About three weeks ago I wrote about a new solo CD by the Japanese percussionist Seijiro Murayama called 4 Pieces with snare drum, issued on the Petit label. It was one of a few new CDs of his I had recently bought, and specifically one of two solo discs  for snare drum. At the close of that review I wondered out loud how different that release might be from the other solo CD, and so tonight I have got around to listening to, and writing about it. The second solo release was recorded in April 2009, just a month after the first, again in France, actually by the same sound engineer Thomas Tilly but this time released on the ZeroJardins label. This second disc is simply titled Solos. The obvious question then, is just how different are the two sets of music (there are four tracks here as there were on the Petit release) is one of more value than the other, and I guess the question must be raised; did we need them both?

The first piece here (called Ssev I think, though the text isn’t easy to read) is actually very similar to the opener on 4 Pieces… in that it once again uses the same technique involving rubbing a piece of ribbed plastic piping held against the drumhead that I now relate immediately to Murayama’s playing in a similar manner, executed at quite a fast pace so as to give the sound a kind of simplistic hypnotic feel. The recording has a particular quality to it, not really murky or distant, but affected by what sounds like quite a resonant room as the sounds Murayama makes seem to drift off very slowly. There are subtle differences between the two tracks,  the pitch here is slightly higher as the piping seems to be attacked slightly faster, but essentially its a very similar piece. After this though, there is nothing else as immediately obviously the same, but Murayama’s very simple, elemental sounding approach to his instrument is generally quite recognisable, and beyond the added warmth of the recording situation the tracks here would fit the Petit release just as easily.

The second piece here, called Auci is quite different. Although the piece begins and ends with one approach to making sound, as did the first track, the style of this piece, all rapid, fluttering drumsticks skittering around in a kind of muted but high-speed stream. There are hints of jazz playing in there, I am reminded of Eddie Prevost’s breakneck flourishes when in jazzier mode, but although the playing is far more expressive and less drone based there is still only very slight development throughout the piece, and in general the track sounds like a rough and ready drum ‘n bass number sped right up so that the different drum strikes seem to blur together into one. I think I commented in the other review that Murayama is a powerful presence in a live situation, and I suspect that had I been placed in front of him as he performed this piece I would have been blown away, but as I have to settle for the recording here the music remains enjoyable, but obviously separated from the intensity of the live display.

Llott comes next, and has more of a randomised Patrick Farmer / Jeph Jerman feel to it, like a lot of small objects being either scrunched up or rolled about the surface of the drum, captured by very close miking. As the track progresses through its nine minute length though, it very slowly transforms, so gradually that the change is almost imperceptible, into a rhythmic, abrasive rubbing. The sounds halt every so often to leave pregnant pauses of a few seconds each, but otherwise the music has a quietly ritualistic feel to it. When played quite loud it really seems to cloud around you in the room, never particularly mechanical sounding but still having a kind of relentless inhuman quality, perhaps like rain hammering against a window you are sat close to, though the actual sounds are quite different.

The final piece is the longest here, clocking in just short of seventeen minutes, and is a bowed piece that forms a more familiar drone form. I think metal objects are placed against the drumhead and then bowed methodically and continually so that each object resonates with a glowing tone that slowly changes as various angles are applied to the technique. The method of creating sound here is hardly original, but the subtleties in the sound here, particularly in the way the drone is shifted seamlessly through its varying stages is very well done indeed. Some of the transitions are every beautiful and almost sound electronically produced, which they certainly are not, but the control Murayama has over the sound here is very impressive.

So to answer my questions one at a time; firstly, how does this disc differ? Well three quarters of the tracks are different enough in style to be able to say they stand separate to the music on the Petit release, and my descriptions of each piece should indicate the differences. Is one of the discs of more value than the other? Well this probably depends on individual taste, but I think I prefer this second CD, if only for the richness of the final track. they really are hard to separate though. That point may indeed lead me to the answer the final question; Do we need both discs? To be frank, no, we don’t, and really the two recordings would have been better combined into one longer disc (The two albums together would have fitted on one normal CD) Of course I know nothing of the circumstances behind the two releases and such an exercise may well have been impossible, but in an ideal world, as both discs were recorded close to each other in time and place by the same person this would have made financial sense. There is one other point that might suggest that the separate releases have different purposes however. The Petit label seems to have its roots firmly in the jazz canon, with Murayama’s disc standing out in the catalogue as something different. The ZeroJardins label would appear to be much closer related to the noise and new folk scenes (I was amused as a middle-aged Brit to see the label’s MySpace site describe their release as “totally insane drones”) Perhaps releasing the two CDs like this, to what must be potentially very different audiences could introduce Murayama’s music to a wider set of listeners. Maybe the point is that none of us are meant to be daft enough to buy both of the discs anyway.