1. Solo Dancer2. Duet Solo Dancers
3. Group Dancers
4. Trio And Group Dancers
What the hell did I just listen to? I'm pretty sure jazz doesn't regularly feature tuba fart noises. In fact, I'm almost certain it doesn't. It definitely doesn't have random interludes of flamenco guitar. Not that Charles Mingus cares. Considering the liner notes were written by his therapist of all people, I don't think he cared at all.
As you might've discerned, in this release we enter (before leaving just as promptly) the exciting world of avant garde jazz. This is some dense stuff, too. I'm not even quite sure how to review it. It's sort of like when you try to read Finnegans Wake but your attention lapses for a bit and you look back and oh god what the hell is happening? Like a dream, this album keeps shifting around in a manner that is frequently bizarre. One moment it'll be nice and easy, the next you're getting bombarded with a sonic wall of sound that would make Phil Spector shit his pants. It's both beautiful and terrifying. In fact, there's all sorts of moods to this album. No wonder his therapist had to write about it.
This album is one of the first to really use the studio as an instrument to its full potential. Although it is instrumental, I find it manages to convey the most emotion of all the albums so far. Challenging, of course, but thoroughly rewarding. I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe. 10/10
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