Love-Hounds-request@EDDIE.MIT.EDU.UUCP (03/23/87)
Really-From: rutgers!uwvax!astroatc!gtaylor (Mr. Sharkey....white courtesy phone, please)
HAROLD BUDD INTERVIEW PART 3. COPYRIGHT 1987 GREGORY TAYLOR
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No, although the acoustic space in this album is still con-
sistent with the dense, thick sound of the other work. It's
only that what fills that space has changed. Longer,
slower, stretched out and a good deal darker.
The flower has a knife in it, as the title to one of the
pieces says. I'll be totally frank. This is absolutely my
best recording.
You're just saying that because it's your most recent,
right?
No, not at all. I'd confess to you in a second if there was
something else I liked better. I'll tell you why I feel
that strongly: If I had to do another album tomorrow-for a
contract's sake or money's sake or whatever, it would be so
near what that album that it would embarass me to have any-
one hear it. I am still really close to this one and the
things wrapped up in it.
That's kind of an embarassing experience to have with one's
own work.
Oh yes, because it makes you sound like a damned egomaniac.
But look-I've finished the thing and now it goes out into
the world and it has a life of its own. It simply turns out
that a part of that is that it has had a real effect on me-
the person who made it. I don't see the point of putting
out something that's merely competent, unless you're out
trying to get it together to put out another one and make
yourself a whole lot of money or whatever. But when you do
have that kind of experience with your own work, it's a most
frightening feeling. You don't know where it came from, but
the sonofabitch has got you hooked, so hooked that you don't
even think about what you'll do next.
I think that's how music is supposed to function, though.
I'm reminded of a statement that Eno made once about making
music that allows one to recover their own sense of wonder.
Wow. Never heard that one. Hold on-this is the oddest
thing I've ever heard-I never heard that before, but I've
got something here to read for you. I kept this notebook
during the last trip to London, in which I jotted down ideas
coming home from the pub so that I could think about them
later. Here it is-one of those "notes to myself"....
"One of my goals is to reacquaint you with emotions you've
forgotten with hallucinating clarity." I can't believe how
close those are!.
Well, if we wanted to broaden the circle a little bit, we
could also throw in Proust and Henri Bergson; they spent the
better part of their lives in search of a literature that
would do just that. But let's get back to those more worka-
day questions and speculations-how did the equipment you
were using on "Lovely Thunder" vary from the things you nor-
mally use-I'm assuming that most of that recording is done
on a Synclavier.
Yes, that what you're hearing. But actually, there's a hell
of a lot of stuff on that recording. I wouldn't get
snowballed by the technology. Whatever it is that I did
use-and I don't really mind doing things like going down
equipment inventories, the important thing to remember is
that it was being used at the most primitive level you can
possibly imagine-very intuitive in terms of being a tool
nothing is programmed, in that sense of using the technology
to tidy up; nothing is moved over here because it doesn't
fit or jacked up later. Every sound there is a performance.
It's me. I'm using this very sophisticated studio in the
same way that I'd be working if this were being recorded out
in the garage.
Since, as you've said before, you've committed yourself to
making public documents of private performances, the place
in which you do that and the circumstances under which you
do that are, in a sense, subordinate to the business of
maing music-transparent, in that sense.
Oh, yes-in fact, it's not really there, except for the fact
that you have to remember to turn the damned thing on.
I was listening to a recording of a live performance you
gave in Chicago a couple of years ago, and I was surprised
to hear you improvising on "Children on the Hill," which I'd
always thought of as a finished piece. The improvisation
(from a performance given at New Music America in Chicago in
1982) was quite long, and it was interesting to hear you
improvise. What was also surprising about that recording
was something that appears quite strongly in recordings like
The Serpent; the notion of your use of the acoustic piano as
a box full of strings-your interest in the sound of the
inside of a piano-those strings vibrating and affecting the
other strings in the box. Your pianistic technique-or
skill, for that matter-is secondary to the changes in the
way that the piano strings vibrate.
That's a great idea. in some point in the future I'm going
to quote you and give you full credit for that-I never found
that good a way of saying it. Dead on.
Listening to that recording, I found myself curious as to how
you approach recorded pieces. What's the difference between
improvising alone in a room and a recorded performance, really?
There's a world of difference between a recording and a live
performance. The recording I'm willing to go up against the
wall for-it is what I mean. The live performance is a kind
of hobby that I indulge myself in from time to time because
I do enjoy it. but it is not what I do well. if I were
Terry Riley and I were gifted with the kind of enormous
skill that he has, I would love live erformance. The truth
is that I don't have that kind of skill. In a way, I would
rather hear him than hear me. I don't really consider
myself a performer. I do it occasionally, somewhat reluc-
tantly, but when I do I enjoy myself immensely. I enjoy the
people who are there- it's a hell of a good time. but it is
not an index of what I consider my work to be or what I'm
really up to. The act of improvising is what comes off the
top of my head....
If that's the case, then what seems unusual to me is the
sense that there is some structure to your live
performances-the performance of"Children on the Hill" bore
quite a congruence to your recorded version of it. There
must be some curve or structure to them-how far ahead of
yourself are you thinking? Also, with the exception of just
the slightest amount of harmonizing, there is no effects
looping or processing at all-it's just you and this slightly
watery-sounding piano frame ringing away.
That is a tremendous pleasure to do once you've settled into
it and found the center of what you're playing.
"Oh boy, wait until I get to this next chord here." I'm
thinking about 5 or 6 seconds ahead. As soon as I get here,
I know what I'll be doing. I'll really do this and see if
it works. If it does, I'll be really, really happy." Aaah.
I understand that you've recently done some live perfor-
mances again. What was the occasion for them?
Practical in a way. I'm associated with Opal music group.
Well, they had this evening-in fact, EG records had an
entire week at Queen Elizabeth hall in London in January.
One of the nights was for their Opal branch, shall we say.
I went over there to do a thirty minute performance. Then
apparently the minister of culture for the Canary Islands is
a big fan and he called us up sand said, "Is there any
chance that you could-since Harold Budd is in London-bring
the whole thing over to the canary islands on very short
notice?" And everyone said, "Yes, I think so," and that's
what happened. It was that quick. Who was involved with
this, then? It was me and Michael Brooks and Roger Eno and
Brian Eno and Laraaji. Brian provided the sound and he had
these light sculptures on stage. On the spur of the moment,
Laraaji and I decided to perform a duet instead of doing
separate sets. We had a great time-we were really playing
like soul mates there for a while. We made some initial
decisions about what key it was going to be in and just sat
down and let it all go. It was so much fun-Laraaji is a
very sensitive player who really knows how to listen to
another player and has a lot more experience in live perfor-
mance than I do. If something really untoward happens,
something that really sounds like a turkey, he can cover.
That's a wonderful skill to have, especiallly if you're
playing with me (dry laughter).
Any chance that that's going to happen again here?
No. that's it.
One of the things that comes into your earlier work is a
kind of foreground/background scheme-like the works you'd
done for saxophonist Marion Brown for the Pavilion of
Dreams" album. Where do you think that goes in your work?
It seems as if "Lovely Thunder" has a bit more of that-
particularly on "Gypsy Violin." .
Without putting too fine a point on it or getting into too
heavy an art trip, I just like very much the idea of concen-
trating on one thing and milking it for all it's worth. It
interests me to find out how much life there is in something
that is fundamentally pretty if you leave it alone and don't
do anything to interfere with it. Does that make any sense
in terms of your question?
It's interesting to find that there are two ways of thinking