Album Review: Balance Of Power Improvisations For Reeds Percussion by Damon Short & Paul Scea
Alright, so here’s the deal with Balance Of Power Improvisations For Reeds Percussion. This 1999 release from Southport Records is one of those jazz albums that doesn’t just sit in the background—it grabs you by the ears and makes you pay attention. The duo of Damon Short on vibes, drums, cymbals, and all sorts of percussion madness, plus Paul Scea doing basically everything else (seriously, dude plays flute, saxophones, piano, and sings?), creates this wild ride through free improvisation territory. And let me tell ya, it ain’t for the faint of heart.
First off, if you’re expecting smooth lounge jazz or predictable melodies, this ain’t your jam. Tracks like “Village Politics” kick things off with a burst of energy that feels more like eavesdropping on an argument between instruments than listening to a composed piece. It's chaotic but strangely satisfying—like overhearing two cats fighting over who gets to nap in the sunbeam. You know they’ll work it out eventually, right? That tension keeps you hooked.
Then there’s “Breath Of Antarctica,” which has stuck in my head for reasons I can’t fully explain. Maybe it’s how Scea’s bass clarinet moans and groans like some kind of alien creature lost in a snowstorm while Short’s vibraphone chimes in like icy wind hitting metal. Or maybe it’s just because the title sounds cooler than anything I could ever come up with. Either way, it’s haunting as hell and gives me chills every time. Like, imagine being stranded in the middle of nowhere, except instead of panic, you feel… intrigued? Yeah, that’s this track.
The rest of the album follows suit—tracks like “Arachnophilia” and “Impending Downpour” keep the vibe unpredictable yet cohesive. There’s no filler here; each song feels purposeful, even when it seems like total chaos. Oh, and shoutout to Ryan Shultz adding trumpet magic on a couple tracks—he brings another layer of unpredictability to the mix. David Baker deserves props too for capturing these raw, unpolished performances without losing their edge.
What really stands out about this record is how personal it feels. Free improvisation often comes across as self-indulgent, but not here. Every note, every squeak of the reeds, every crash of the cymbals feels intentional, like the musicians are telling stories only they understand. By the end of the album, you start piecing together your own version of what went down during those recording sessions.
So yeah, Balance Of Power Improvisations For Reeds Percussion isn’t gonna be everyone’s cup of tea. But if you dig experimental jazz that pushes boundaries and makes you think, this one’s worth a spin. Honestly, it’s kinda like cleaning out your garage—you never know what weird treasures you’ll find buried underneath the clutter.
Final thought: If this album were a person, it’d probably be that eccentric uncle who shows up at family gatherings wearing mismatched socks and talking about conspiracy theories—but somehow, he’s still the most interesting guy in the room.
