Reissues: Cassava Balls
Hartmut Geerken, John Tchicai, Don Moye

Hartmut Geerken's eclectic voice returns, here in the esteemed company of two champion improvisers, and a glimpse at his instrument inventory for the date recalls that old adage about the kitchen sink. Thankfully, he makes democratic use of most facets of his arsenal over the course of the disc. The live concert taped at the Praxis Festival on the anniversary of the German surrender and the close of World War II visits the trio shortly after a lengthy tour of Africa, with the continent and its peoples fresh in the musicians' minds. Geerken's opening "Patriotic Number One" pays homage to the historic day through an unbroken barrage of collective cacophony.
Tchicai's bleats and squeals twist knotty shapes around Geerken's pummeled keys, and Moye is a blur of percussive tidal force. The vocal poetry of the piece takes shape in a litany of largely nonsensical exclamations by the three that in turn elicit enthusiastic responses from the crowd. "Sawasawa" is shaped around a cyclic motif that conjures a spinning sonic vortex and Tchicai's tenor twirls around Geerken's piano in ever decreasing arcs before the piece's close. "Races Places Faces and Asses", a jocular ode to the diversity of backsides across the globe is most significant for Moye's incredible drum solo which is, according to Geerken, his lengthiest on record. With "Mohawk" and "Mothers", the group pays respects to two pioneers, Charlie Parker and Ayler, and the interplay starts out almost conventionally before the ineluctable dive into liberating improvisation.
On "Mohawk", Geerken walks a casual circuit through his pile of instruments, banging, tapping or scraping briefly at one before moving on to another, all the while adding mirthful scats to Tchicai's muscular tenor explorations. With "Mothers", Geerken returns to his piano stool and sallies forth in a marvelous conversation with Tchicai while Moye keeps a loose, percolating pulse behind the two protagonists. "Marconison" is saturated in Geerken's space-age short wave radio manipulations which lend an even more bizarre air to his accompanying prepared piano tinkerings. Clocking in at over eleven minutes, what is initially intriguing quickly becomes monotonous until Tchicai enters with some emphatic counterpoint. Similarly, Tchicai's warm flute saves "Cassava Snake One Pot" from drowning in the deep end of self indulgence. "Mikel Black", an incantatory chant veiled in a waterfall of chimes, evokes the African vistas so recently traversed by the trio on their tour. This release is well worth exploring in detail and offers an auspicious beginning to Leo's new label.

Derek Taylor