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Critic's Review
Eugene Chadbourne, All Music Guide
The lovers of weird noise will get their money's worth out of this Polish release, the equivalent of a exuberant shopping spree in the border town of Szecin. The shopping bags are emptied, there is much more there than meets the eye, and coins are still jingling in the pocket. It is, as the more rowdy Polish might say, "Zupadupakupa!" One aspect of the riches is the fact that between the two of them, Johannes Bergmark and Martin Klapper can make more noise than any assorted dozen of improvisers. Their interplay during a pair of concerts in Sweden and Denmark has been further enriched by the creative editing process. The 58 tracks mentioned in the title of 58 Tracks From a Common Orbit do actually exist; each are indexed to be played as individual entities. These tracks range in length between six minutes and three seconds. The two extremes are actually presented in the course of the first two tracks, not that anyone would notice. None of these tracks stands out as an individual item if the disc is simply played straight through; there are no gaps separating any of the tracks. The editing involved couldn't really be called seamless, since that is hardly the point. Ears educated in this style of improvising, which at its finest sounds more like animals chewing things then musicians playing, will no doubt recognize at least some of the cuts between what were different parts of the concerts. Perhaps to provide evidence of just how thoroughly the performance has been chopped up, the 56 tracks are given various numbers of their own, the CD opening with the longish "31," while its presumed kinfolk, "30," appears as the 19th track. This isn't the first release in this genre of avant-garde music in which listeners could potentially become quite stimulated playing with their programming buttons, reconstructing these pieces in the order they were originally played, listening only to the sections that are under ten seconds, hearing the whole thing backward or whatever floats their battleship. Recordings of this nature in themselves make an interesting point about the uniqueness of this kind of music, how its surrealistic and abstract nature is the equivalent of a giant jigsaw puzzle in which any piece can fit together with any other. Of course, those listeners who find modern jazz too harsh for their ears will not find this recording comforting, no matter how the tracks are programmed. Part of both players' approach seems to be pushing at the boundaries of what is considered acceptable as music, often involving a balancing act on the edge of what could easily develop into nausea and/or boredom, at least sonically speaking. A glance at the instrumental credits confirms that these fellows are making music, or trying to, with toys, water, and glass, among other things. Bergmark takes a credit for "antique corn grinder" and "dissection." All previous discussion of track sequencing options might be just plain irrelevant to the noise fiend who would rather be informed that a power drill makes an appearance at about ten minutes into the action. Following these performers on their explorations will not be everybody's dream ticket, but for those who are ready, 58 Tracks From a Common Orbit is your rocket ship.
