Spectrum 上原ひろみ

Spectrum were by far Australia's best known prog band of the 70s. The funny thing is that, just like the Madder Lake, Spectrum weren't all that prog, at least not by hardcore British prog standards of the day…

The Melbourne-based Spectrum was a highly regarded Australian progressive psych rock band that came together in 1969 around its central figure, expatriate New Zealand guitarist/singer/songwriter, Mike Rudd. In its formative year Spectrum played covers of work by its contemporaries, such established psychedelic / progressive artists like Pink Floyd, Soft Machine and Traffic before developing a style of its own. The Spectrum sound was formed around Neale's skilled Hammond organ playing - mostly without the use of a Leslie speaker cabinet - and Rudd's extraordinary finger-picking guitar style (a style he reportedly used to avoid being compared to the more accomplished guitarists of the time), his often humorous and offbeat song titles and lyrics, plus his unusual and distinctive voice. Add to these two the very skilled and reliable rhythm section of Putt and Kennedy and the Spectrum equation is complete…

Spectrum Road is a jazz-rock supergroup featuring bassist Jack Bruce, guitarist Vernon Reid, drummer Cindy Blackman-Santana, and organist John Medeski that formed as a tribute to the inspiration and music of Tony Williams' pioneering Lifetime group (of which Bruce was a member). In the process of playing Lifetime's music as a project, they became a bona fide band. All but two of these cuts are from Lifetime's catalog. The set begins with the scorcher "Vuelta Abajo," from 1970's Turn It Over album. All four members come storming out of the gate on a syncopated, intense series of riffs and stops. Blackman-Santana, a Williams disciple, plays furiously with countless rolls and fills yet never drops her sense of groove.

Violinist Irvine Arditti, pianist Claude Helffer, and the Spectrum ensemble conducted by Guy Protheroe produce consummate performances of the Greek avant-gardist's unwieldy chamber music. If you're familiar with Xenakis's career you'll know he was trained in mathematics and enjoyed a successful career as an architect. Such background might prepare you for the music's preoccupation with line, volume, and form in an unusually abstract way, but it won't prepare you for its visceral, almost primitive power. On Akanthos, the singer Penelope Walmsley-Clark must cope with what is surely one of the most ridiculous soprano parts ever written.