I first heard the term “lean-back listening” in a 2017 essay by Liz Pelly about the dangers of Spotify. Defined as a symptom of algorithmically generated playlists, this phenomenon finds “distracted, perhaps overworked, or anxious listeners” submitting to passive forms of attention. While it sounds convenient in theory, the technology becomes insidious when it replaces context and information about the artists and their music with an emphasis on evoking emotions and moods.
For the past fifty years, avant-rock percussionist and ReR Megacorp label founder Chris Cutler has offered the antithesis of this occurrence in “lean-forward listening,” which rewards close concentration. In the liner notes of his archival box set—featuring collaborations with Henry Cow, Art Bears, Pere Ubu, and many others—Cutler describes the music contained within as “scenes rather than a story.” Ten CDs and a twenty-two-hour-long DVD provide only a pinhole glimpse into the drummer’s prolific output, which was largely improvised and left on the stage. Originally released in the early 2000s, the first three discs spotlight Cutler’s solo performances, experimental radio broadcasts, and environmental works. “North Car Roulette,” a highlight, reappears throughout the box, juxtaposing timpani-like swells with buzzing drones and electronic squelches. As Cutler notes, “I have a special fondness for sustained tones, layering, and variable pitching; things we drummers miss in our regular instrument.”
Discs four and five tell a thrilling story. Henry Cow’s pastoral prog begets Art Bears’ avant-torch songs, followed by The Work’s Beefheartian freak-punk featuring Hawaiian guitar. Cutler’s concept of Rock in Opposition took many forms over the years, from woozy tape loops to prog songs in 29/8 time. Yet there are connections between his many bands. Les Quatre Guitaristes De L’Apocalypso-Bar’s surfy instrumentals (1989) sound strikingly like Vril (2002). On the more exploratory pieces of discs six to nine, Cutler toys with mbira, bowed guitar, and an amplified cactus.
It’s fun tracing the evolution of Peter Blegvad’s avant-pop, from late-’80s cosmic folk to traditional country-rock featuring pedal steel legend B. J. Cole. A pair of unreleased Pere Ubu instrumentals pop out thanks to Allen Ravenstine’s lovely synth, while a meandering jam with Soft Machine’s Hugh Hopper goes nowhere, and Cutler’s pieces for a Hungarian circus troupe grow more annoying with each passing minute. Of course, by including live performances that received audibly mixed reactions, Cutler tacitly admits that listener appreciation is far from the only marker of musical success.
In a Box resulted in one of the longest sustained listening sessions I’ve had in years. Over several days, the discs played on a boombox while I washed dishes, folded laundry, and generally went about my business. I took breaks to avoid ear fatigue, then kept going until Cutler’s splashy fills and stop-on-a-dime time shifts became the rhythm of my life. Like anything that requires effort, the best thing to do is lean in.
Jesse Locke (he/him) is a writer and musician based in the traditional, unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations, also known as Vancouver. He currently contributes to Pitchfork, Bandcamp Daily, Xtra, Musicworks, Tone Glow, and Aquarium Drunkard. Jesse hosts the music interview podcast “Tracing Spaces” and is the author of the biography Heavy Metalloid Music: The Story of Simply Saucer. He plays drums with the bands Tough Age, Motorists, and Chandra. Follow him on Twitter! @wipeoutbeat