THE WATT WORKS FAMILY [1990 catalog]
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This WATT catalog is 35 years old, maybe in the age of the internet, their last one.
Working with Carla Bley and Michael Mantler was one of the great inspirations of my young work life. Which is probably why I’ve posted a number times of some of their work, from the time I worked with them and afterwards too.
Why am I so interested? Carla and Mike were perfect models of talent, sure, but also resilience, perseverance, determination, and blind, stupid, confidence. We first became acquainted after I crashed a recording session for Carla’s ‘operatic’ Escalator Over the Hill, which they financed themselves, and out of frustration, released and distributed themselves on JCOA Records. which eventually spawned the self determination of the New Music Distribution Service and WATT Works, a label for their continuing works.
When I bumped into this 1990 catalog from THE WATT WORKS FAMILY (by then with bass/composer stalwart Steve Swallow, daughter/composer Karen Mantler [and her cat Arnold], and distributed internationally by ECM Records) I was struck, not only by the sheer volume of personal, completely –can I emphasize completely?– independent work, but also the sheer value of creating this work self sufficiently. It made me suddenly aware of why I felt they were so influential to me.
Are there any other musical composers who’ve succeeded in getting their music recorded with no outside creative interference? Who, because of that complete independence, were able to experiment –often successfully, quite a few, not so much*– across such a wide range of the possibilities of their music? And think about it, what composers have you ever listened to who were completely unafraid of reaching beyond the box they were put in (’jazz’ in their cases) to artists that had the unique talents, and not for nothing, commercial possibilities? (Their records have spanned the Western world of contemporary music... from the jazz world, Don Cherry, Cecil Taylor, Pharaoh Sanders, Charlie Haden, Larry Coryell, Roswell Rudd, but also Linda Ronstadt, Jack Bruce, Robert Wyatt, Don Preston, Terry Adams, and of course, I’ve left out dozens of others.)
Let me stress, it was unbelievably hard for them to hit those accomplishments, no one can say that success is easy. But, it is their very independence that gave them room to try. You know what they say... “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
.....
From the introduction:
Now the truth can be told. The WATT recording label is not the idealistic, uncompromising, visionary creation of two young revolutionaries. No, Michael Mantler and Carla Bley started WATT, almost 20 years ago, to make money.
Like all musicians, they assumed that once the world got to hear their unique individual styles, fame and riches would follow. So they slaved over each new release, always sure that the latest one would sell millions.
Carla went through many phases. After realizing that no one was interested in hearing her zany capricious fantastic amazingly intricate concoctions for large assortments of weird and wonderful musicians, she tried to write simple little songs for small, boring groups of anonymous hacks. Mike, on the other hand, stuck firmly to his grandiose style, turning out gaunt tragic forlorn bleak emotionally distraught masterpieces, certain that someday his music would pay off.
Finally giving up all thoughts of ever cashing in on their own efforts, they formed an·auxiliary company, XtraWATT, and started looking for young talent to exploit. The first sucker that they stumbled upon was Steve Weisberg. He was definitely young, and ready to work for nothing. It wasn't difficult to recruit 20 other desperate musicians to play on his album, I CAN'T STAND ANOTHER NIGHT ALONE (IN BED WITH YOU), by promising to pay them lots of money when it came out.
Next to fall for the XtraWATT scam was young veteran jazz bassist Steve Swallow, who, desirous of getting his collection of overkeening faux-negre soul ballads recorded, handed over his life savings to Mantler·to cover "expenses", and even agreed to call the album CARLA.
But word of the racket got out, and no one else could be found who was willing to record for XtraWATT. In desparation, Mantler and Bley forced their own child, Karen, to learn a few chords and simple melodies. They even tried to train their cat to sing the resulting ditties. (Most of those efforts had to be replaced by unsuspecting teenaged humans, but the album was still called MY CAT ARNOLD, to avoid paying royalties.)
In spite of Mantler's greedy misdoings (word has it that Bley is just a pawn in his game), his victims still adore him, having nothing to compare their music business experiences to. Even Weisberg, who has confessed that he has ambitions of someday graduating into the clutches of a big-time criminal at a real record company, is embarrassingly grateful.
Naturally, the entire WATT/XtraWATT family was honored to go along with his latest plot. Hopefullly, some nice journalist or salesperson will notice how interesting and valuable the music is, and persuade the public to finally fork over those dollars!
.....
*Some reviews, taken from the catalog:
“…the finest examples of progressive large ensemble work written and recorded in America in 1975.” –Downbeat
“This record is a real dog.”
“It’s delightful.” –Melody Maker
“…the least listenable record I have ever heard.” –Melody Maker
“Everything Jesus Christ Superstar should have been and isn’t.” –Changes
“This is a record which all rock musicians as well as general audiences should listen to with care.” –Rolling Stone
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It's That Time Again!!! (1/5)
Through All of Time and Space: Space alien, Thad Thawne, falls to Earth and takes on the form of Bart Allen, making minor changes according to what he saw in orbit... Tim Drake mistakes him for an angel. (yj98/flashfam; TimThad also TimBart; space alien AU)
A Love For All Seasons: Jay Garrick catalogs the first five years of Judy's life. (flashfam/jsa; JayJoan; no powers AU)
magic yellow lightning: AU where Barry keeps Bart while he recovers from a near-death experience. Bart is four years old, and Barry suggests it'd be best for Bart to stay with him on his vacation. (flashfam; BarryIris; no powers AU)
in between seconds: Don goes to the past to speak with his son, knowing his next mission might be his last. They speak to each other between seconds. (flashfam; MeloniDon; canon divergent AU)
Comfortably Wrong, Painfully Right: Bart accidentally sends two similar text messages to Conner and Preston. (flashfam/yj98; KonBart and PrestonBart)
A Joyful Rebellion: AU where Meloni Thawne recalls her time with Digger Harkness. (flashfam/flash rogues; DiggerMeloni)
Nothing But Time: Tim and Thad are roommates and freshman year classmates at Brentwood Academy. Both tightly wound boys struggle to overcome their differences to pass the class's partner assignment. (yj98/batfam/flashfam; TimThad; boarding school AU/no capes AU)
✨Snippets of the fics under the cut to help you guys decide✨
Through All of Time and Space:
The subject’s name is Tim. Bipedal human creature. Non-childbearing. Blue eyes, dark hair, and fewer organs than documented in human literature. I believe something in him is broken. I wonder if he’ll be useful to me in the future despite this. For now, he’s chosen to keep me a secret. I believe this is for his benefit. He doubts his mental faculties despite my original subject, Bart’s declaration of his intelligence. I needed his assistance to assimilate into Earth's culture.
Tim’s expressions change when he looks at me. His heartbeat slows and his eyes waver as he studies my form. He fails to understand that Bart is my blueprint for appearance and nothing more. I tried to explain it but the explanations only upset him. Human emotion feels complicated. I took the form of someone he had a fondness for, but he looks at me with pain in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart. I apologize to him for it, and he smiles. I don’t understand him. But I want to.
A Love For All Seasons:
Day One: As she lay on my chest, I remembered touching her little head. It was the size of my palm. My heart skipped a beat and found the rhythm of hers. I glanced at Joan as she slept peacefully in her hospital bed, wondering how she could remain so calm. I felt her hands and feet, counting her fingers and toes as tears streamed down my cheeks. How could I ever sleep again? How could I ever relax, knowing her tiny life was in my hands? Her little head that couldn’t fill up my entire palm? Her tiny fragile body with her perfect little face—. She had a full head of hair. It was the last thing I noticed. I spent so much time worrying that I didn’t notice my daughter’s full head of beautiful brown hair. I didn’t notice my eyes and nose and mouth translated onto her little face. It all sank in at that moment. I would love her forever.
magic yellow lightning:
I put his red rubber rain boots on as he sat with his hands stretched out. “Grandpa? Am I magic now?” Bart questioned.
“Huh?” I asked in reply.
“I got shocked-ed by lightning. Am I magic now?” Bart asked. I smiled as I held his hand.
There was no harm in letting him see the accident in a fun light. He survived and that was all that mattered. “Yup… And now that we’ve both been struck by lightning, I can tell you all my magic secrets. You can help me make my potions,” I answered. Bart smiled with his eyes shut. “You can open your eyes. If you keep them closed, we won’t be able to tell if you’ve gotten your sight back.”
“It’s not bad to open them?” Bart questioned. I kneeled beside him, rubbing a smudge on his cheek with my finger.
“No, it’s not bad. It’s helpful. You’ll start to see lights again, then shapes, and your sight should come back fully in a few days. It happened to me, too. You’re so brave, Bart. I was really scared when it happened to me, but I’m so proud of you. You’ve been such a big boy,” I commended him. He reached up for me to carry him, and I felt his body go limp in my arms.
“Not seeing makes me sleepy, Grandpa,” Bart mumbled. I rubbed his back, wondering if I upset him. “How am I gonna watch SpongeBob?” I held back a laugh.
in between seconds:
Time is a lot like origami paper to me. If I use the speed force like fingers, I can fold a straight line into a three-dimensional object. And in those folds are points in time. When Bart was born, I could feel all the creases in time where he touched. So, I searched for a crease in time where he would understand. I kissed my Bart goodbye and ventured through the folds of time until I saw an opening. A pocket in time where he and I could talk. I waited for him to feel my presence in his time. Bart.
I felt him before I recognized his face. The speed force carries unique energy for all of us. Dawn felt like cool air like the inside of a tornado. Wally felt like the rumble in a thunderstorm. Bart’s energy felt like rippling rays of sunlight, almost like water. Uncontrolled but uniform.
He met me in a space between milliseconds. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Bart stated. It wasn’t accusatory. It was an observation. My breath caught, and I wanted to cry, but I had an urgency in me that wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. I touched his face, and he gasped.
“Dad?” Bart questioned as tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew me by energy alone. I nodded.
“Hi, Bubs… We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Don’t we?” I asked, still holding back my tears as I held his face in my hands. I was pure energy, but he was flesh and blood. My flesh and blood.
Comfortably Wrong, Painfully RIght:
“Okay… Let me get this right: You have a crush on Kon. You have a crush on Preston. You couldn’t decide which one you wanted to ask out, and you were so baked you sent them the same question. Am I getting this?” Cassie questioned.
Bart nodded. “Oh, you’re fucked. Like this is better than TV,” Cassie laughed.
“You’re not helping,” Bart half-shouted before lowering his voice, “They’re both coming tonight. I can’t cancel on Preston because he went through a lot to come here, and—.”
“Cancel on Conner,” Cassie interrupted.
“I can’t. How do I tell him I take it back?” Bart replied. Cassie groaned. “Exactly!”
A Joyful Rebellion:
I sat there next to him, hiding in a brand-new HDPE pipe for my father’s new construction project. He pushed his feet out, attempting to roll us, and I laughed. “Hey, amnesia boy… Do you wanna do something bad?” I questioned. He grinned, moving to take off his jacket and shirt while I took a lighter out of my pocket. His eyes widened, and he backed away.
“Kinky… But I prefer my pleasure without pain,” he chuckled. I shook my head and climbed over his lap and out of the tube. He followed me, and I reached down into his pocket for his flask.
“Wanna see something cool?” I questioned. He bounced his head from side-to-side, and I walked toward the wooden structure of the building and took a swig of his ancient alcohol before spitting and lighting a fire. He hooked an arm around my stomach and pulled me away from the blaze as he laughed.
He rocked as he walked me back and away with two strong arms wrapped around me. “Good on ya! Fuck that building,” he smiled into my neck. He understood me. Even if it was on a base level, he could accept my actions without any explanation. He didn’t care who my father was. All that mattered was me and what I wanted, and I wanted him.
“It’s my dad’s,” I replied. He froze, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Fuck him,” he whispered. And the weight fell off of me. “Yeah, fuck him. What does he matter? Whatever he did to make you feel this way… Fuck him.”
Nothing But Time:
Thad sighed as he sprayed the room with an air freshener and opened the window. “God,” Thad groaned as he stifled a gag. He asked for a new roommate, but he didn’t expect someone like that. He covered his mouth and nose with one hand as he looked around in horror at the clothes strewn across the beds and floor. Open soda cans lined the nightstand and dressers. A used bandaid rested on the dresser. He stepped outside, waiting for his new roommate to arrive, growing more and more agitated as time progressed.
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