Form Material: A Free Jazz Odyssey That Tickles the Ears and Mind
Alright, let’s talk about Form Material, the 2014 brainchild of Udo Schindler and ManonLiu Winter. Released under Portugal’s Creative Sources label, this album is like that quirky friend who shows up uninvited but ends up being the life of the party. It’s jazz, sure, but not your smooth, candlelit dinner kind of jazz—this is free improvisation at its most untamed and daring.
Udo Schindler wears more hats on this record than I’ve seen in a hat shop. He plays bass clarinet, contrabass clarinet, soprano saxophone, recorded it all himself, wrote the music, penned the liner notes… phew! And then there’s ManonLiu Winter weaving her magic on piano, adding these delicate yet razor-sharp textures that cut through Udo’s sprawling soundscapes. The whole thing feels less like a studio session and more like an intimate conversation between two wildly creative minds.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck with me long after the needle lifted (yeah, I still use a turntable). First off, “Liudo 5” hits you right away with this eerie, almost cinematic opening. Udo’s bass clarinet growls low, like some nocturnal creature prowling around in the dark. Then Manon-Liu steps in with these sparse, haunting piano notes that feel like whispers from another dimension. There’s no real structure here—it’s just raw emotions spilling out—and somehow it works. By the time the track fades into silence, you’re left wondering if you dreamt the whole thing.
Then there’s “Liudo 8,” which goes full throttle into chaos mode. This one starts with what sounds like someone dropping forks on a drum kit—or maybe that was my cat knocking over my coffee mug while I listened? Anyway, Udo’s soprano sax squeals and squawks like he’s trying to summon aliens or something. Meanwhile, Manon-Liu bangs away at the keys with reckless abandon, creating this beautiful mess of dissonance. It’s chaotic as hell, but oddly satisfying, like eating spicy food when you’re sick—it burns, but you can’t stop.
What makes Form Material so special isn’t just the technical wizardry; it’s how alive it feels. Every note breathes, every pause screams intention. Even Wolfgang Obrecht’s mixing job deserves props for keeping things tight without losing the wild spirit of the performances. And Carlos Santos’ graphic design? Minimalist perfection. Bonus points for Lutz Weinmann’s moody photography, which fits the vibe perfectly.
So yeah, Form Material might not be everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re looking for catchy hooks or sing-along melodies, good luck. But if you dig experimental stuff that challenges your ears and keeps you guessing, this album will blow your socks off. Just don’t expect to understand it completely—it’s like staring at abstract art and finding new shapes every time.
And honestly? That’s kinda refreshing. In a world where everything has to mean something, sometimes it’s cool to just sit back, press play, and let the weirdness wash over you. Oh, and fun fact: Ernesto Rodrigues produced this gem. Dude must have nerves of steel to handle such sonic madness.
Final thought? Listening to Form Material feels like eavesdropping on a secret dialogue between instruments. You won’t get all the inside jokes, but damn, it’s entertaining anyway.
