The flow of the river is ceaseless And its water is never the same. The bubbles that float in the Pools, now vanishing, now forming, Are not of long duration: So in the world are people And their dwellings Kamo no Chomei

Sedimental is an Austin, Texas label with some extremely interesting releases to its credit. This CD with austere and spartan theremin explorations, teamed-up with for example aluminum cello and sarangi plus undefined electronics make for a formidable issue for the brave of hearing!

A winding, surging, swelling theremin tone opens, joined by deep vibrations from some kind of base percussion.
As the second track begins, screeching and bent events are accompanied by the theremin’s lonely line of thought, and when other instrumentalists join in you have a Dumiterscian set of timbres, billowing forth, spreading question marks along their path as they pass. The theremin of James Coleman is utilized in a way I’ve never heard this classical instrument of electronics before, sounding a bit like a moaning puppy on the leash, creeping towards its master with meek eyes tracing your every expression…

These are fork and knife improvisations at the brink, in a kind of tranquil setting that really spooks you. Sometimes it’s easy to picture a small kid, perhaps two years old, sitting in the middle of the floor, poking about with his gear; all kinds of little objects, stacking them and demolishing the constructions with a sudden wave of his chubby arm…

Like the best kind of sound poetry – represented by, for example Dutch wonder boy Jaap Blonk – the best and most whole-hearted improvisational venture in these realms comes across like the bubbling energy and inward focus of a little child, who is completely at one with his actions. It sounds like that is the case in these overwhelming expressions from James Coleman and his associates.

I keep forgetting that the whistling, whining, moaning and jolting, jumping, bending, wobbling voice – sometimes sounding like frictional sounds of wet balloons or wet glass objects – stem from a theremin! I wonder how Mr. Theremin himself would have judged these latter-day exploitations of his invention! He’d probably enjoy them!

“Zuihitsu” is truly original, but to the experienced ear some of the events may sound like a meeting of Iancu Dumitrescu (his spectral music) and Swedish saxophone improviser Mats Gustafsson. I’m thinking about the CD “Hidros One” for nine improvisers, tape and conductor with Mats Gustafsson and a gang of musicians on the Caprice label.

The way the title “Zuihitsu” is drawn on the cover is reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy, and I believe that deep inside this music, in a very still and silent center around which these sounding trails of motion move, there is an elegant and swirling stillness of Japanese mountain contours rising out of morning mist.