Wat luister je nu? -- Nieuwe stijl -- deel 23

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1. Huge
2. Ganbow-Ki
3. Hama
4. Kuruimizu
5. Vomitself

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Cretu being no fool, he figured if it worked the first time, no need to change things much for the second. But he also knew not to simply go ahead and just rehash his debut for Cross of Changes, resulting in a just different enough effort along the same overall lines. The usual air of tasteful middle-of-the-road spirituality takes precedence, right down to the cover art and appropriately pantheistic quote from Persian mystic poet Rumi in the CD booklet. Needless to say, the music attempts to match the same throughout, and often succeeds. Things kick off with more of the synth-whale song noises and atmospherics from MCMXC, however there aren't any monks to be found this time around, but what sounds like the same whispering woman talking about "clearing the debts of many hundred years" and the like. From there, Cretu merrily takes the same plunge -- some of his sample choices this time around show he's got a decent record collection, including parts from Songs From the Victorious City, the striking fusion of Egyptian and Western musics from Anne Dudley and Jaz Coleman. His work with beats and loops noticeably shows a more developed edge -- while hardly an innovator, there's a bit more grime and loud in his rhythms, which in combination with extra electric guitar make a reasonable contrast to the smoother elements. Consider the rampaging conclusion to "I Love You...I'll Kill You," which while sharing some cheese with the title itself still works surprisingly well, right down to a clever Robert Plant vocal sample at the end. "Return to Innocence" was the big single from this one, not quite up there with "Sadeness" in the popular culture in the U.S. but almost inescapable elsewhere. There's another Led Zeppelin sample (this time John Bonham) and a haunting male vocal providing oomph under the fuzzy-headed greeting card philosophy of the main lyrics. It's an impressive effort, showing Cretu had a definite something in his own way. -- Ned Raggett

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Dull, MOR jazz-funk in which the outlines of tougher material (3 Wishes, Desert Players, Healing The Feeling) are smothered in a clotted rock mix and further compromised by Denardo's bland keyboard washes. Grateful Dead man Garcia was a controversial inclusion, but does nothing to merit all the fuss, spinning out inoffensively countrified figures that merely take their place in the queue. Only the haunting title-track wakens memories of what Ornette was once capable of as a pure melodist.

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A word about the cover photograph . . .

Although the illustration on the album cover may seem a trifle bizarre to the uninitiated, knowing intimates of Monk will recognize the setting as that of his studio, an important part of his Manhattan apartment. In this atelier are the memorabilia of an adventurous and richly rewarding life. Most noticeable, perhaps, is the Nazi storm trooper. As real as he looks, he is stuffed, a trophy of Monk's forays as a member of the French Resistance movement in World War II, the famed FFI.With a cry of "Take that, you honkie Kraut!" Capitaine Monk shot him cleanly and truly through the heart. He weighed 187 pounds, dressed. Thelonious' only pet is the cow who answers to the name Jellyroll and has the run of the apartment. It is interesting to know that Capitaine Monk had access to a piano throughout the combat and would never go on a mission without warming up with some forty or fifty choruses of "Darkness on the Delta." The field telephone on the wall, a memento of Normandy, now serves as a direct line to Le Pavillon in the event he wishes to order a delivery of French soul food. The rest of the objects are really almost self explanatory - the Nazi battle flag he captured at Nuremburg, the dynamite he used so often on key objectives in Germany, the grenades, machine pistol, the .45 automatic - all of them bring tears of nostalgia to Monk's eyes as he thinks of action-packed years gone by. He was part of the underground then - for years in post-war America his piano was part of the underground of jazz. Now, and indeed for the past few years, this jazz giant is emerging as the great artist he has always been, one of the most inventive jazzmen in history.

Actually, the title of this album, UNDERGROUND is something of a misnomer - Monk surfaced long ago! He has been committing thelonious assaults on certain hidebound enclaves of jazz since the mid-Forties, and the attacks are beginning to tell. Oh yes, about the girl with the firearm in the background. No explanation was asked, nor was one forthcoming.

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"A cohensive presentation out of a series of incoherent events". Imagine a series of KC improvisations, complete with rogue flash photographers.