Review Summary: The man alone; the saxophone.
For Alto is absolutely ***ing insane. On first listen, it didn't make any sense. It didn't on second, either. Nor third, nor fourth, nor thirteenth. To say that it makes sense to me now would be stretching the truth, although I do feel I have begun to crack the code as to why I return to the album so much. Something about the pure insanity of the album (specifically the second track, "To Composer John Cage") gives it such an intriguing, infinitely replayable value that I just can't stay away, for better or worse.
For Alto has a nightmarish quality to it. Consisting solely of prolific avant-garde artist Anthony Braxton (father of Tyondai Braxton, of math-rock band Battles) playing his saxophone, it shouldn't seem to scare or captivate, but it simply defies all expectations. His uses the saxophone as an emotional tool, wailing and screaming (rendering emotional anxiety musically disconcerting) but also quivering and softly fluttering between notes and scales.
For Alto won't appeal to those who don't easily warm to long compositions of seemingly random, arbitrary blow sessions. Give it time, however, and it will reveal itself in ways you may not have thought possible from the get-go. John Coltrane devoted
A Love Supreme to God; this one's for the devil. Have at it.
