Music was changing in big ways in the 1960s, and the classical music scene wasn’t left untouched by cultural and technological shifts. Composer Terry Riley melded elements of jazz, rock, and classical together with rainbow psychedelic flair to create some of the most innovative music of the time, that would influence everyone from Philip Glass and Steve Reich to Pete Townshend and the Velvet Underground.
To celebrate Riley’s 90th birthday this summer, Sony Classical has compiled Riley’s four albums for Columbia Records into a snazzy new box set with a fascinating 54-page booklet detailing the process of not only recording but listening to these 12 pieces.
It is often said that Riley birthed minimalism with this landmark 1964 piece, “In C,” which takes up the entirety of disc one in this set. The piece begins with a solitary pulse on the piano, followed by 53 short musical phrases that are to be played in order, but any number of times, by any number or combination of instruments. The element of chance is inspired by jazz, yet the music is still “classical” in nature. The result is a swirling, gamelan-like effect that is unlike anything you've heard before. No two performances are alike, and even though the classic “In C” recording from 1968 is fixed in time, your ears will hear something different each time you listen, from a stray saxophone to a unique mallet phrase.
Riley followed “In C” with something completely different, a solo album of overdubbed keyboard and saxophone performance called “A Rainbow in Curved Air.” The technique of simultaneously recording ones self and performing over playback of the recording at the same time created a looping, cascading effect that would find later adherents in Brian Eno and Robert Fripp, who carried the technique forward in their solo album “No Pussyfooting” and Fripp’s solo guitar performances and work with King Crimson in the 1980s.
Riley did have a direct interaction with the rock world, captured on the album “Church of Anthrax,” a collaboration with the Velvet Underground’s John Cale. If the album is less successful than the other three in this set it is only because a couple of the tracks are too similar to one another, and the lone vocal number sounds like a leftover from the Strawberry Alarm Clock. But the title track, “Church of Anthrax,” features a droning, hypnotic pulse on piano and drums similar to the Velvet’s “Waiting for the Man” or “All Tomorrow’s Parties.” It’s the kind of music you might hear as the soundtrack to an imagined underground film of the era.
Lastly, Sony Classical’s set concludes with “Shri Camel,” another solo work from Riley that was almost wholly improvised on electric organ. The instrument is tuned in just intonation, which at times makes the bleeps and bloops sound a little like a hearing test, but if you give yourself the headspace to listen deeply, and crank up the volume, it’s bliss to give in to the Eastern-influenced sounds. The liner notes for the album, and the box itself, conclude with the recollections of some listeners in 1980 of what the music felt like to them. "For me, it's being carried away down a sparkling river," wrote one. Another said, "I feel forced to look directly at the sun, but allowed to see only the good and pure things, and not the heat or conflict."
Terry Riley: The Columbia Recordings is very groovy stuff, and an essential part of 20th century classical music's story. Turn down the lights, turn up the volume, and be transported.
