Before The Beginning by Oluyemi Thomas: A Sonic Free-for-All That’ll Mess With Your Head (In a Good Way)
If jazz is your jam and free improvisation makes your heart race like an over-caffeinated squirrel, then Before The Beginning might just be the album you didn’t know you needed. Released in 2002 under the Recorded label, this U.S.-bred gem is basically one guy—Oluyemi Thomas—and his army of instruments duking it out for your attention. And let me tell you, it’s as wild as trying to explain cryptocurrency to your grandma.
First off, picture this: Oluyemi plays bass clarinet, soprano saxophone, flute, bagpipes (yes, bagpipes), gong, and even adds some unclassifiable “noises” into the mix. It’s like he raided a music shop during a fire sale and decided to use everything at once. Oh, and he sings too—or at least something resembling singing. Backed by collaborators like Helena Espvall-Santoleri on cello and Jim Baker doing double duty on piano and synthesizer, the whole thing feels like a chaotic house party where everyone brought their own weird instrument but no one agreed on the playlist.
Now, let’s zoom in on two tracks that stuck with me because they’re either brilliant or bonkers—I haven’t decided yet.
Track 1: "Interior Of The Moment"
This one kicks off with what sounds like someone accidentally dropping silverware onto a drum kit while simultaneously tuning a radio to Mars. Then Jim Baker’s synths swoop in like a UFO abduction scene from a low-budget sci-fi flick. Andy Hayleck’s percussion rattles around like a caffeinated toddler banging pots and pans, while Oluyemi’s soprano sax wails like it’s auditioning for a David Lynch movie. Somehow, all these moving parts coalesce into something hypnotic. You won’t hum it later, but you will sit there blinking, wondering how anyone thought this was a good idea—and secretly loving them for it.
Track 5: "Humbled & Grateful"
Here’s where things get downright tender. Enter Helena Espvall-Santoleri’s cello, which wraps around you like a warm blanket made of melancholy. Oluyemi switches gears here, ditching the chaos for something more introspective. His voice cracks through softly, almost whispering, like he's sharing a secret only you can hear. This track slows down time—or maybe it’s just me zoning out—but either way, it’s hauntingly beautiful. If “Interior Of The Moment” is a fever dream, “Humbled & Grateful” is the cold glass of water you wake up clutching afterward.
The rest of the album keeps the vibe going—equal parts thrilling and bewildering. Tracks like “Dancing Butterflies” feel like being chased through a forest by invisible creatures playing tag, while “Detachment” leaves you floating weightlessly in space. Honestly, I’m still not sure if I love it or if my brain is broken, but isn’t that kind of the point?
So, would I recommend Before The Beginning? Absolutely—if you’re ready to have your musical comfort zone obliterated. Just don’t blame me if you start hearing bagpipe solos in your sleep.
Final thought: Listening to this album feels like walking into a room where everyone speaks a different language, but somehow, you still understand exactly what they mean. Or maybe I’ve been sniffing too much gong vibes. Who knows?
