Bernard Parmegiani's soundtrack to Michel Treguer's Rock (1982) may not be an acousmatic masterpiece but it's an enjoyable exercise in mood pieces for a motion picture, more akin to classic electronic library music, perhaps, than anything else. Or John Carpenter's minimalist techno soundtracks. Then again, Depart reminds me of Tangerine Dream's Sorcerer soundtrack from 1977. It's all pared down, minus the space and depth we're accustomed to with Parmegiani, but the uptempo tracks bubble along like proto-'techno' and some of the atmospheric slower pieces succeed in conjuring up images desolate, possibly hostile alien environments (I haven't see the film - who has?). I particularly like the trombone on Serge Assommé. Us fans are just glad of something new from Him and if this snack tempts newcomers to start feasting on the 'main course' all the better.
A portly white Englishman is walking the streets holding a massive boombox on his shoulder with reference to Spike Lee's Do The Right Thing - looking faintly ridiculous - it's Neil Brand in his three-part documentary for BBC4, The Sound of Song. I watched some of this latest episode, but had to hit 'mute' when he explored the studio technique which made that Cher song even more unbearable. I still suffer the psyche scars from having to hear that several times-a-day where I used to work.
Neil's a right square so the programme's hardly cutting edge in either form or content, although he did interview Hank Shocklee. The funniest part was Steve Albini being asked to listen to an album he'd produced on MP3. The look on his face! He was disgusted with the sound, of course, the point being that old argument about vinyl vs digital. No bass, he complained. Yes, Steve, that's because you were listening through crappy Apple earbuds, so what did you expect? My Sansa ones give more bass than those and they cost about £3.50.
When my friend Gloria linked this article about CDs vs vinyl recently it reminded me of something I'd read years ago about the myth of vinyl sound. In that case an engineer made the point that most vinyl isn't heard at anywhere near it's best due to inferior equipment. An obvious aspect that's usually omitted when the vinyl-lovers get going. They drop a cheap needle belonging to a low rent turntable on a poorly pressed album and gloat about suckers who buy digital.
I love my vinyl, mainly because the few remaining examples I have tend to be things that aren't available digitally or, in the case of Sun Ra, provide a larger canvas for brilliant art work. In some cases I simply haven't bothered to get the files. That and the fact that the original albums (as opposed to repressings) naturally have an appeal - they are the objects that first entered people's homes all those years ago.
In a discussion on this subject, someone recently said they mainly buy 45s, from the 60s. On vinyl, you can see the appeal. But I replied that when Bernard Parmegiani's work get's boxed up as CDs, who can argue with that? Most of us can't afford original electronic works from the 60s and 70s. If 'everything' once got shared on blogs, since that golden age ended, even rarities can be hard to find.
I remember being tethered to the hi-fi in the 70s, cans clamped to my head to get the best out of that great new Nazareth album (ha-ha!). Compared to that experience, the MP3 player in my pocket today is a wonder of the modern age and, more to the point, delivers the sonic details created by Parmegiani straight to my brain with ease. Perhaps those old half-melon-sized cans would have done as good a job, but I doubt it. Besides, I wasn't listening to anything as advanced as electroacoustic/musique concrete back then. If I was, there would no doubt have been crackles and pops from impure vinyl. Whilst that's a popular conscious addition to some sound today, it isn't what you want where it's unintended and nostalgia crackle isn't wanted. Unless you revel in the extras time has added to your worn copy of a Pierre Henry album.
These thoughts of vinyl encouraged me to go to the shelves yesterday morning and pull out something good from the surviving examples. Acid Rain III - Meteor Shower by Underground Resistance. One thing the digital world doesn't provide are messages etched into the product. On Side B of this the question is asked: 'DO LIGHT & SOUNDWAVES HAVE EMOTIONS' (the question mark is missing). I wonder. If so, are they rubbed out by the digital process? Should that be the case, the argument for vinyl would be wholly justified.
Box sets are big, stupid and outmoded. Right? Not in the homes of a generation old enough to have bought LPs first time 'round and when the CD box sets started coming collect them too because many contained previously unreleased tracks. And besides, what else were baby boomers going to spend their money on?
Box sets were exciting for others too, of course, myself included. But to confess that is also to confess to being of certain age, probably. Do kids buy box sets? No, surely not. Many can be downloaded anyway. I'm not precious about sleeve notes and packaging, but they're seen as a bonus by some.
A box set signifies the old world, the last hurrah of music companies still creating cash from the vaults. Pony-tailed executives rubbing their hands with glee as yet another take of a track is dusted off - ''The suckers'll lap it up!".
Yet there's something appealing about these digital dinosaurs. They sit heavily (literally) in a world where music is weightless. They defy this anti-gravity world of one-click access and the virtually invisible file storage system where recordings exist in name alone (lost amongst all the others). Almost every day I catch sight of the boxes below. Admittedly this is because I no longer have a large CD collection.
So here are some of my favourites.
Bernard Parmegiani - L'Œuvre Musicale (INA)
Acousmatic/electronic/tape genius. An infinite world of sound.
Miles Davis - The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions (Columbia Legacy)
Of the many Miles Davis box sets, this is the one I play most often. Electric voodoo.
Various - Popular Electronics: Early Dutch Electronic Music From Philips Research Laboratories (Basta)
Tape/electronic genius.
Ornette Coleman - Beauty Is A Rare Thing: The Complete Atlantic Recordings (Rhino Records)
Arranged as the sessions were recorded. It's Ornette Coleman.
Duke Ellington - Anniversary (Masters Of Jazz)
13-disc epic feast of Ellington. A gift (from myself) that keeps on giving.
'This is why the electronic human lives faster and faster....Every morning he has information, information, information...And this crazy environment full of images and sounds builds a screen around him. And only those who know how to remain deaf or blind will be able to escape the screen...'
As you can tell by the quote above Bernard Parmegiani's film predicts our current screen-dominated environment. He wasn't the first to suggest the future domination of electronic audio-visual content over our willingly subservient modern brains, of course. But he was Bernard Parmegiani and it's his vision, his music, which makes it brilliant.
The recent report suggesting that eating five fruit and veg a day may not be enoughand seven would be better may well be true but is ridiculously optimistic. I hereby suggest a different kind of diet; one that will nourish your eyes and ears. You may also increase your fitness levels by dancing to Serge Gainsbourg, if you wish. Or, if you prefer, simply lounge on the sofa in a smoking jacket, smoking.
The examples below are by no means the only ingredients for a healthy lifestyle. It may be supplemented by many other artists who will do you good. Most inhabitants of the planet may be poisoning themselves with cultural junk (no Lady Gaga on these premises, please, or outside, or anywhere I can see you), but you, at least, can set a good example.
My diet provides a healthy balance of music, film, literature and art but be warned, too much Laurel & Hardy may result in your sides splitting. Whilst there is no such thing as too much Daphne Oram, I recommend a mixture of products by the following. You may even combine some by staring at a Hannah Hoch collage whilst listening to Bernard Parmegiani - it's highly recommended!
Daphne Oram
Serge
Mr Parmegiani
His Holiness Jacques Demy
Hitch
Stan & Ollie
Holy Moholy-Nagy
Hannah
El Hombre Invisible
Georges Simenon
Feed your ears...with peas, chicken and salt peanuts...
Another treat for lovers of deep listening, unless you prefer Beyoncé, in which case, what are you doing here? Something of an acousmatic thread runs through this, although other musics feature, such as The Haxan Cloak, who I accidentally omitted from the listing. His 'Dieu' appears after 'Intensites'. No mix is ever perfect just as a work of art is only ever abandoned, as Jack Vettriano or some other great artist said.
Chemical Imbalance - W. Murch
1 Descent Into Deep Time - A Dontigny
2 Fleure - Autechre
3 Trawsfynydd Nuclear Power Station - Emptyset
4 Dynamique Resonance - B. Parmegiani
5 Cristaux Liquides - M. Rodrigue
6 Tar - H. Vaggione
7 Lethe - Dhomont/Krebs
8 Intensites - A. Yterce
9 Archives - L. Ferrari
10 Bédé - R. Normandeau
11 Repons - P. Boulez
12 Portrait - C. Calon
13 A Sign Of Tension - Paranoia Dept
14 Belli Machina - Tetreault/Mori/Labrosse
15 Derailment - Marclay/Yoshihide
16 Wrekwahn - Ensemble Skalectrik
17 Autour - C. Schryer
It's not often you'll see Pierre Boulez and Anton Webern's names in the same sentence as 'Bladder', but that's the kind of crazy place this is. Ha-ha. Truth is I wouldn't have this box set if my bladder hadn't been fit to burst.
I'd got off the bus in Kentish Town yesterday morning and had the tough choice of walking home whilst desperate for a pee or going to the café, where I could use their toilet. I'd had one coffee already, although I do occasionally unleash the hedonist within and indulge in two whilst foraging for kulture in town. I already had a bag full of books but going to the café would mean absolutely having to check out the charity shops nearby. Decisions, decisions...it's not easy being me...in Kentish Town...having spent a fair bit already but faced with more shops...
So I went to the café, where I like to sit watching the dregs of society hobble past (not that I feel superior, of course, but look at the state of her! And why do slobs insist on walking around in tracksuit bottoms?!). One mad man did go by, alerting me to his presence by barking unfathomable words at the top of his voice, thus interrupting the creative flow pouring onto the notepad on the table before me...such lines as: 'Ought to really get LJ to cut my hair tonight', and 'Why am I writing? I have nothing to say' - oh yes, Kerouac's got nothing on me when it comes to spontaneous prose, I tell you....
So of course I went into the charity shop and having looked at the books then went to the vinyl in a fit of optimism because there's never anything there but utter shite and I do wonder if those bastards who share rare electronic music claiming to have done so from albums they found for $2 are just winding us all up because I've never, ever found anything that good for that kind of price. Well, I've found things like this, but they're hardly essential listening, you'll be surprised to learn.
But there sat Webern's Complete Works Opp 1-31 conducted by Pierre Boulez. The sleeve notes state that it's Volume One, but another was never released. I wonder why...it couldn't have been because this box set didn't reach sales expectations, surely. Wasn't the world clammering for Webern records in 1978? No?
The cover clinched it, of course. I mean, look at it - Kandinsky's 'The Black Circle' (1923). Did the Columbia people choose it because that black circle looks like the kind people always used to gain so much pleasure from on their hi-fidelity stereos? I wonder. Was Kandinsky thinking of the 10-inch record in relation to the modernist world and all that Jazz? I dunno.
Oh, and more than that, or at least equal to that, was the price tag. £1.49. Yes, £1.49. The records had to be in a terrible condition for that price, surely, but as soon as I tried to pull one from it's sleeve and felt that gentle resistance immaculate vinyl puts up, as if trying not to be spoilt, I knew I was onto a winner - all pristine, every one of the four discs. A Cliff Richard album would be priced more highly, but then, they've more chance of selling that, presumably. Who wants a box set like this? A man with a comfortably empty bladder, and only slightly emptier pockets, thank you.
This dropped through the letterbox a few weeks ago. I love to say it was a surprise promotional gift from GRM because they just know I'm their main man in the UK when it comes to hyping electro-acousmatic vibrations - but what do you think? I bought it - how extravagant!
'In the acousmatic approach, the listener is expected to reconstruct an explanation for a series of sound events. ' - Francois Bayle
But I can't explain...I think it's love...a 15-CD box set...a box, a cardboard one containing 15 slim cardboard sleeves on which the details are printed...same design as the Parmegiani set, also from GRM, which I'll say again is an essential collection. OK, so it's cheaper (£15) to buy the MP3 version of this but a material object has many advantages, least of all the booklet, which I've yet to read properly, and titled sequences, plus all the dates, some of the which are 1980, 2001, and the starter, 1963...
...back then Bayle was intimidated by the company of Parmegiani, Luc Ferrari, Xenakis and others...who could blame him? He waited about five years before feeling confident in his abilities, and since he was running GRM knew he had to deliver. Not being 'a symphonist at heart', Bayle was free from either rigid 12-tone dogma or the shackles of older classical schools. As a child of the stereo generation he was the right age to enter new territory, the unmapped sonic regions beyond early electronic and musique concrete beginnings.
There is so much music here that I couldn't do it justice in a few hundred, or probably thousand,words. It changes according to the technology used, of course, from tape to analog synths, MIDI and real-time computers. Bayle said 'Acousmatics is the art to fill with nuances, to work with spatiality', and there is much 'spatiality' going on. Sounds move, but not like stereo panning Rock gimmickry. Instead, to advocate a philosophy of creation and listening. You have to listen hard. Your head becomes an auditorium in which sounds shift, disappear, leap out, shimmer and so on - the sound of sounds, alien and vaguely familiar.
I've lived with this collection for almost two months and it feels as if I've barely scratched the surface. That might be normal for a big set of 'normal' songs, never mind music as deep as this. It's deep and above all wide. Bayle's realm is the space in-between, which he seeks to expand, rather than simply fill, by seemingly stretching it. In short, this is mind-expanding music, ma-a-an, if I dare say so. Bereft, though, of clichéd psychedelic effects. Instead, technology becomes...transcendent?
Radio interference, distorted piano chords, plucked strings, whispered voices, chimes, silence, fluttering noise, hum, drones, bird calls...but what is that...and that? Primordial off-world field recordings...a broadcast from planet Bayle calling prisoners of the earth - come out? Layered sounds, remote sounds...gentle, menacing, disturbing, dense and airy sounds...
It's pointless recommending this kind of thing - you either get it or you don't, and if you do, spend the cash. You won't regret it.
Luc Ferrari - Bernard Parmegiani - François Bayle - Guy Reibel & Arne Nordheim amongst the artists featured.
One of the best compilations of electronic music ever made. It's now been made available again via the Wolf Fifth collection as acquired by UbuWeb. Grab it here.
Smith-Corona didn't kill off pencil (why not pen?) and paper...computers did that. But the portable electric probably helped nudge nations towards being unable to write by hand. I know how liberated I felt buying my first typewriter (manual), then the electric, which really made me feel like my fingers could keep up with my thoughts. I soon realised that my fingers were capable of moving faster than my thoughts, actually, although for a few months I pretended to be Kerouac on speed and henceforth typed all letters, as well as poems and terrible not-even-half-finished novels about neo-Beats in London on the dole listening to Jazz...kind of autobiographical, you might say....
I'm nosey when it comes to what other people like, so here's a peak at my collection as revealed by the shuffle mode...see it as an invite into my room whereby you can take a quick look at my 'record collection' whilst I'm making the tea...
Against The Clock - The Simonsound - ooh, good start, retromaniac radiophonia, still sounds fine Transition - Bernard Parmegiani - yes, yes! Big bazar - Lionel Marchetti - love this musique concrete operatic vocal and all Landing On The Moon - Peter Thomas - space-age penthouse perfection, eh? Ritorno All'inizio - Ennio - cooking with psyche-Jazz soundtrack gas,man! Occam - Monolake - golden oldie & good to hear again Love Theme (Twin peaks) - Angelo Badalamenti - solo Rhodes version...classic Africa - Sun Ra - cosmo-roots genius, of course Diagonalam - Focus Group - brief beauty More Difficult - The Tape Beatles - I love plunderphonics Saturn - Gultskra Artikler - his ambient space-age work (and I still can't type his name without checking) Dance Souer - A. Kalma - chirpy ditty a la audio librarian mode Contrasts Essconic - Daphne Oram - oast house music (the only kind of house music for me) A Hard Kill - (from Blade Runner, The Audio Cut) - Deckard and Pris get it on LOiseau - Alain Goraguer - marvellous (trying to recall who sampled it, but can't) Small-Time Charlie - Kenyon Hopkins - my love of Kenyon Hopkins knows no bounds We Travel The Spaceways - Sun Ra - one of many versions of the definitive Ra song Route 66 - Mike Hurst - excellent version Sea Of Dreams - unknown - will I ever know?
There's a good debate herecalled The Rise And Fall Of The Obscure Music Download Blog, which I read whilst listening to a free download called Fullerton Collage Tapes recently culled from the Internet Archive. This sound collage of US under/overground hits mixed with electronic effects and tape manipulation naturally echoes earlier works of Henry, Schaeffer, Parmegiani and James Tenney, whilst pre-dating the plunderphonic exploits of John Oswald and The Tape Beatles. The creator is Frank Long, about whom there's no info on the Net.
Whilst Long's sampled and spliced tunes played they mirrored perfectly the state of mind induced by so many files filched from download blogs. As Eric Lumbleau of Mutant Sounds so eloquently puts it, our experience of music today does feel like being 'inside this cyclotron of atomized information' which produces 'a palpable sense of vertigo'. He speaks from a blogger's perspective, but the same must be true of those reaping the rewards.
Reading the debate reminds me of so many discussions about musical 'golden ages', whether in the realms of Jazz, Jungle or just about any other genre that's since become calcified in time and treasured by fans. Who could have imagined, during it's peak, that file sharing would eventually have it's own classic era? Despite infamous crashes and shut downs, the impression we get is that the internet offers All Things for Eternity, whilst, ironically, perpetuating the feeling that nothing is permanent amid the ever-tumbling cascade of digital info. Music now is akin to information, such is the scope and quantity of it; a blizzard of bytes forceful enough to make anyone's head spin.
Yet, even for a relative newcomer to file mining like me, it does feel as if the golden age is well and truly over. Since the death of Megaupload, bloggers at best make valiant efforts to re-up some files, often with the help of their audience. Whilst others have simply given up due to the ever-changing specifications of hosts. Those of us who missed out on the good ol' days are more likely to find sites as mausoleums filled with hundreds of dead links. And as mentioned in the debate, the search today is frequently hampered by having to navigate spam whilst enduring a storm of prurient pop-ups, only to finally be confronted with the dreaded phrase 'this file has been deleted'.
However, as I remind myself time and time again, I do have plenty of music to listen to without needing more. Oh yes, the dilemma of the downloader who cannot resist the hunt, just as the shopaholic cannot resist another pair of unnecessary shoes. Like you, probably, I have great albums stored which I hardly know except through fleeting visits which prompt reminders to 'Listen properly'...another day.
Like democratic capitalist countries, we bask in this freedom to consume ourselves to death, whilst inhabitants of some tiny communist state (vinyl-only buyers, perhaps) look on, shaking their heads, and laughing whilst we endeavour to quench the insatiable desire for sound.
If blogs offering 'classic' obscure music (how's that for a contradiction in terms?) really are dead or dying, perhaps it's for the best. As options close down we're forced to re-examine what we already have, and to treasure what came so easily. For those of us old enough to have straddled the old vinyl and new digital eras, that shouldn't be so hard, should it?
The latest mix, which took me what felt like several lifetimes to create because I couldn't seem to find the right tunes to fit alongside each other or determine the overall tone of this sonic collage masterpiece (ha!). In the end I opted for a certain mood (well, one emerged, anyway) which is eclectic within certain bounds and once again features Sun Ra, along with other firm favourites such as Bernard Parmegiani and Mort Garson. Opted for an old-school blast off countdown intro; a cliché, but a classic way to start mixes. If you like this follow meon Mixcloud.
I had a good chuckle at Mojo magazine's 50 Greatest Electronic Records in the latest issue - well you wouldn't expect the bastion of Rock heritage to get it right, would you? And they don't. Which I'm not pleased about, believe me - yes, I'm also known as 'Snobin', but that doesn't mean I'm laughing because many names on the list are popular - oh no - they're plain WRONG is all. Roxy Music is an 'electronic record'? Eh? Oh, just 'cause Eno's on it, right. King Tubbys Meets The Rockers Uptown? Er, OK, if wizardry at the mixing desk meets the criterion where the hell is Lee Perry, or for that matter, Phil Spector? Massive Attack's Blue Lines is there...mmm...so sampling/breakbeats in Trip-Hop form counts, does it? Well, Tricky's Maxinquaye should be in then, or DJ Shadow's Endtroducing, because both are far more ground-breaking.
The POP/Rock connection is an umbilical chord that Mojo seem unable to cut, which makes this list a lie. If they'd stated first that most selections related to Pop/Rock & Dance that would be fine, but they don't, so they give the impression that researchers really have presented the 50 Greatest Electronic Records instead of 50 Electronic Records For Those Who Don't Like Pure Electronic Music Without Vocals Or Guitars Incolved. There's no Stockhausen. I repeat, in caps, THERE'S NO STOCKHAUSEN. Silver Apples' Silver Apples, but not Morton Subotinik's Silver Apples Of The Moon. Heh-heh - you gotta larf. Silver Apples gets the nod because that's sort of like a Rock record, but with electronics, and the effect's the same.
I can only presume that Terry Riley's A Rainbow In Curved Air is in because some ex-hippy staff member (or powerful hippy ex-staff member) fondly recalls lighting incense and getting stoned to it in '69. Ditto Tangerine Dream, whose Phaedra continues the longhair freek connection - jesus. That's all dubious enough, but then we move forward in time and look who's here, Burial! I can't say anything bad about Burial, though, that's the law. If I did, I'd be banned from breathing - fact. Nine Inch Nails...The Prodigy...LCD Sound System...Radiohead...Radiohead? Yes, Radiohead. And look, here's Stevie Wonder's Music Of My Mind. Why? Because none of them have heard Innervisions? As much as I love this era of Stevie in no way does it qualify as Electronic Music. Notably, his aids in the electronic realm, Malcolm Cecil and Margouleff (Tonto's Expanding Headband) do not make the list, despite their debut, Zero Time, supposedly inspiring Stevie to get with the new technology.
Jean-Michel Jarre's in there, because he wrote the intro so, you know, it wouldn't be fair to exclude him, would it? Even though his music's the equivalent of being trapped in a New Age shop whilst a Las Vegas lounge bar star plays Eno's greatest hits - no wonder he sold trillions, it's Electronic Music as Valium and resides in the homes of every pony-tailed L.A. producer since 1976 - I rest my case.
Of course there are good, right and proper things on the list, but they're undermined by all the Electronic Music For Twats, by which I mean those who really think it all began with Kraftwerk and still jump up and down to The Chemical Brothers at festivals. Oh, and those for whom The Prodigy represent Acceptable Dance Music because, well, he's a bit of a nutter, isn't he? And they just rocked Glasto.
So here are 25 of my Greatest Electronic Records. Only 25 because I can't be bothered to do 50 and yes there are many left out but, you know, life's too short, and being a reader of this blog you'll know most of what I choose because you're hip, aren't you? I must state that these are not simply my favourites but indisputably some of The Greatest as scientifically and sonically proven. (Oh, and there's nothing 'contemporary' because I didn't get 'round to thinking about everything that's happened since Techno was born and I'm sure you'll agree that the test of time is not easy to pass or apply unless you think Jeff Mills is a genius.)
1.Silver Apples of the Moon - Morton Subotnik
2. Kontakte - Stockhausen
3. Trans-Europa Express - Kraftwerk
4. Futurissimo - Egisto Macchi
5. Quatermass - Tod Dockstader
6. Effets Speciaux - Pierro Umiliani
7. Zero Time - Tonto's Expanding Headband
8. Complete Electronic Music - Iannis Xenakis (yes, I'm including compilations)
9. Oramics - Daphne Oram
10. Electrosound - Ron Geesin
11. Zerkalo - Eduard Artemiev
12. Song Of The Second Moon - Tom Dissevelt & Kid Baltan
13. World With Worlds - Basil Kirchin
14. L'OEil ecoute - Bernard Parmegiani
15. Cesi Est Cela - Philippe Besombes
16. Independent Electronic Music Composer - Edward M Zajda
17. Ataraxia - Mort Garson
18. Biomechanoid - Joel Vandroogenbroek
19. The World Of Electro-Acoustic Sound and Music - Matsuo Ohno
20. Musique Pour Le Futur - Nino Nardini
21. Les Livre des Morts Egyptien - Pierre Henry
22. Film Music - Vladimir Ussachevsky
23. Logos - Igor Wakhevitch
24. Death Of The Moon - Rune Lindblad
In/Out, Up/Down, Bless/Blast, Hip/Square...such lists have long graced magazines as largely ironic signifiers of social trends. This tongue-in-cheek (what else could it be?) book captures the spirit of '59 in the USA, by which time the Beat Generation was 'OUT', as was seeing Kerouac in public. Aside from the content, I love the wonderfully stressed cover.
Party animals, Indie rockers, hip-hoppers and neo-folkies, don't touch this new mix. Yes, I've been messing around with (I mean carefully blending) sounds again - for your stereophonic pleasure - well, it keeps me off the streets. Special treats here include Jon Appleton's vox pop on electronic music and a killer Slant Azymuth track. If you dig it, don't forget to Twitter about it and, er, Facebook it and..um...do anything else that will make me a legend in my own lifetime - ha-ha...
Rummaging through my books I came across this Zeta Press booklet, which I bought from Compendium, the best bookshop in London then. It's going for silly money now, but I've no idea how many of these essays are available in other forms.
I like to think I've made my mark, culturally-speaking, by being the first (and last) writer to twin John Cage with courgettes. It's no great claim to fame, perhaps, but in the absence of a masterpiece in Art or Literature, it will have to suffice.
That post still attracts visitors who Google 'courgette', much to my amusement. Imagine their disappointment in finding an avant garde composer instead of either recipes involving courgettes, or more information about what is probably the best-known member of the species Cucurbita pepo (although the pumpkin is a strong challenger to that title). It is also called a zucchini, from the Italian, zucchina.
'Courgette' is a French word, and Bernard Parmegiani was born in Paris, but his name is strikingly similar to the Italian for parmesan, Parmigiano-Reggiano. I know nothing about Permegiani's parentage, or his personal life, but I can tell you that he joined the Groupe de Recherches Musicales (GRM) in 1959, and worked for French television in a studio, along with Xenakis.
I can also tell you that there's a 12-CD box set called'L'Oeuvre Musicale', which includes his major works from 1964 to 2007. Regardless of it's current value, you should buy it if you have any interest in musique concrete and electro-acoustic composition. It would be the soundest musical investment you will ever make, providing as it does a lifetime's-worth of deep listening, the brilliance of which can only be truly appreciated in time, a considerable length of time. That is if, like me, you are constantly distracted by an endless supply of other music. I'm still discovering new elements to this great man's work.
So there we have it; parmesan and Parmegiani. I do apologies for the lack of content regarding parmesan, but if you came looking for that, hard cheese.
I featured the hardbackhere, which is far superior, but seeing this I couldn't resist it, especially at £1.49. The good thing about this beat-en up copy is that it looks like it might have travelled in the back pocket of an aspiring British beat circa '62 as he waved bye-bye to mummy and daddy with just a duffle coat to sleep in whilst dreaming of being Jack Kerouac but after five days looked homeward because it rained too much and motorway caffs just don't have the glamour of diners and there were no big rolling trains to jump into or Jazz joints to discover. I was going to hit The Road once but got as far as the door when Mum said 'D'you want a cuppa tea before you go?', and I did. And that was the end of that.
