Craig Taborn's "60 x Sixty"

Never say never again, James Bond: I was telling myself I was putting aside writing and playing for a minute to focus on politics, trying to get a rhythm going with phone banking (because with Covid numbers in my neck of the woods at February levels, blockwalking is not happening for your humble chronicler o' events) like I had with guitar last year and cardiac rehab gym the year before that. Then Craig Taborn's 60 x Sixty showed up in my inbox (traffic to which has been substantially lighter since I unsubscribed from a shit ton of mailing lists) and garnered my rapt attention.

Taborn's a pianist from the same cohort as Vijay Iyer and Kris Davis (both of whom he's duetted with), a Minneapolis native who was mentored by Marcus Belgrave while attending the University of Michigan and went on to play with the likes of Roscoe Mitchell, James Carter, and Tim Berne. I first heard him on Davis' Duopoly and in Berne's Hardcell trio, but he also popped up in Dan Weiss's heavy metal-ish Starebaby, and one of his personal favorite projects is Junk Magic, in which he makes electronic music with Mat Maneri and Dave King. A musician with a wide range of influences and interests, is Mr. Taborn.

60 x Sixty synthesizes all of these strands seamlessly in a unique presentation. Streaming free worldwide, the work consists of 60 pieces, each approximately 60 seconds long, that stream in randomized order each time a listener initiates play. The numbers that appear on screen at the start of each piece refer to the order of the present playlist and are not tied to the individual pieces. Taborn says that in time, new pieces may be added and old ones replaced.

In spite of their short duration, each piece creates a sound world that feels complete, and their progression reminds one, as my wife says, of looking into the windows of different apartments in a cityscape (if you're a cinephile, think Tati's Playtime or Tom Noonan's What Happened Was...). Some of the piano miniatures recall Cecil Taylor encores (the dissonant chords, tone clusters, and wide intervallic leaps). Other pieces sound orchestrated and cinematic. Some delve into realms of pure sound and texture. It should surprise no one that this endlessly fascinating work is released on Kris Davis' Pyroclastic Records and produced by David Breskin, both of whom have impeccable track records when it comes to documenting creative music.