USA, 1966, free jazz

Cecil TaylorUnit Structures: Obviously the focus here is the piano, that tumbling downhill wonderful mess of a piano, tumbling and losing all sense of direction as you are bruised from head to foot. And if you survive the fall, you find yourself in an underworld of deep shade, where the black eaves hide only more confusion as the music, a capricious guide, pulls you this way and that. You’re on your feet, but you might as well be tumbling again. You may love the music, but you don’t trust it.

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