Phillip Golub - LOOP 7

Phillip Golub is an American West Coast pianist who started out playing jazz, and now regularly ventures into new music.

To discover the high quality of his jazz-inspired work, listen to his quintet’s album Abiding Memory, released last June (Berthold Records). You can also listen to Dream Brigade, his duet with Lesley Mok on drums, due out in March on Infrequent Seams.

But for now, let’s talk about LOOP 7. This album, which contains just one 28-minute piece, follows on from Filters released in 2022, also by Greyfade. This contained four pieces for solo piano, Loops 1, 3, 4 and 5. These pieces, as the title suggests, are made up of short, looped melodies. The interesting thing about Golub’s loops is that he actually plays them, i.e. they are not simply loops aligned by a machine, but rather interpreted by a human being, with all the variations that this can entail, whether unintentional or not. These first loops were played on a standard piano. With LOOP 7, we’re somewhere else.

This time, the pianist ventures into the realm of microtonal music, with an instrument tuned to the 22 TET system (temperament equal to twenty-two tones). The vast majority of music we hear every day is tuned to the 12 TET (twelve-tone temperament) system. The difference, for our inevitably novice ears, gives the impression of music heard in a dream, and causes a certain discomfort, even in more familiar surroundings—such as the techno music of British musician Sean Archibald, alias Sevish, who makes bougalous (or boogaloo) dance in 22-TET—see his piece Gleam.

The melody of LOOP 7, and of course the repetitive process, are reminiscent of Érik Satie’s Les vexations (1893)—which, however, are not microtonal. Gavin Bryars’ “Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet,” which also sinks into the (sonic) abyss of dreams, also comes to mind. This time, then, the music is played on a Disklavier (Yamaha), in two recordings—essentially for technical reasons—and the pianist is accompanied by guitar (Ty Citerman), microtonal vibraphone (Aaron Edgcomb), and live electronics (Joseph Branciforte). The accompaniment remains extremely discreet. This “furniture music” is nonetheless a different kettle of fish from the musical aid to death regularly served up by the makers of neo-classical tapestries.