b o b

When I bought this CD, I didn't really know that it was a Soft Machine spin-off. That fact might have been tucked away in my subconscious, but it was seeing the fairly cheap $9 price sticker on it at a prog festival vendor's table, and recognizing the band's name that made me decide to give it a try. If I had realized that Robert Wyatt was the main vocalist, I might have skipped the disc since I'm not very fond of his voice. Fortunately the album is largely instrumental, and what vocals there are don't really bother me much. The album kicks off in a fairly experimental mode, with "Starting in the Middle of the Day We Can Drink Our Politics Away". The song consists entirely of the title sung over a repeated piano riff. Each syllable of the lyrics is held for so long that it takes the song's entire two and a half minute length to sing the title once and then again about half way through before the track abruptly ends. Oddly amusing. The next four tracks all segue, creating what seems to be one long piece of music. The eight minute "Marchides" starts out as a blistering jam that wouldn't sound out of place on a Soft Machine album. It has a distorted keyboard (or is that guitar?) solo in the middle that gives way to a quieter and more composed sounding closing section that could still pass for Soft Machine. The album then shifts seamlessly into "Nan True's Hole", which produced an odd feeling of deja vu the first time I heard it — it turned out to be because The Muffins had snuck an instrumental cover version of it into their ProgDay set a year or two earlier. The main riff of the song is memorable enough that it stuck with me. This track in turn shifts into "Righteous Rhumba"; I wouldn't have noticed that it was even a new track if the lyrics hadn't suddenly started saying something about the Chinese. And finally the album side is rounded out by "Brandy as in Benj", a four minute piece with some catchy guitar riffing and lots of electric piano soloing. Very Canterbury sounding. "Gloria Gloom" starts side two off with some very slow building, very spacey synthesizer experimentation from Eno. After a few minutes that gives way to a section where the balance of volume fades back and forth between a Wyatt-sung song and what sounds like three conversations going on at the same time. The overall effect is like listening to an annoying bootleg where the audience chatter often overtakes the band that everyone came to see but nobody's listening to. Finally for the last couple minutes, the song shifts back to Eno's spacey synth noodling. "God Song" is a ballad sung by Wyatt over acoustic guitar and bass. The lyrics seem to be some sort of sarcastic advice to God, which normally I'd probably find amusing but I just can't concentrate on them because Wyatt's voice really rubs me the wrong way. "Flora Fidgit" returns to instrumental music that sounds more than a bit like Soft Machine. After a few minutes it goes annoyingly out of tune and then gets overlapped by the beginning of "Smoke Signal", another jazzy jam in the Canterbury style. Overall, there's enough good music on this disc to make me glad that I bought it. But it's not one that I've gotten the urge to listen to a lot since I picked it up, and I doubt it's ever going to become a favorite. review by Bob Eichler — 6-18-05 —

j o e

The second Matching Mole studio album is generally considered to be the more consistent of the two they released. Also of interest, it was the album that introduced Robert Fripp (producer) to Brian Eno (guest synth player). The first song, "Starting in the Middle of the Day..." shows the craftier moments of the band, with frenetic piano lines from McRae bouncing off of Wyatt's disguised vocals. "God Song" is a bit of socialist angst from Wyatt, played against a delicate acoustic guitar backdrop from Miller. Although a bit overdone in the lyrics department, at least it doesn't take itself too seriously and truth be told, it does contain some witty lines. "Nan True's Hole," features the catchiest riff on the album (indeed, that's pretty much all the song is) and a hilarious cameo from Alfreda Benge (Wyatt's wife), who provides dual voices for a bewildered prostitute and her sheepish, 40-year old customer. "Marchides," powered by Wyatt's forceful drumming, seems taken straight from the Soft Machine engine, and will please those fans uncertain of exploring Wyatt's post-Softs waters. Much of the rest of the album, however, doesn't particularly stick with me, and mileage will vary for how much you can take of Wyatt's lyrics. But besides that: da Komrade, da! review by Joe McGlinchey — 10-5-00 —

g a r y n

I'd only had the faint notion that Matching Mole was some kind of Soft Machine spinoff (the name being taken from the French for "Soft Machine": Machine Molle), but didn't realize the rest of the impressive genealogy until I stumbled upon this album (and also noticed it was produced by Robert Fripp). I was certainly not disappointed. As has been stated repeatedly elsewhere, this album was a marked change from their debut in that it was more of a band effort than their first release, which was commandeered almost entirely by Wyatt. The difference is... well, less Wyatt, and more instrumental input from everyone, resulting in a nice combination of spacey jazz and groovy jams, with Wyatt sticking to the skins more so than on their first. I actually gained quite an appreciation for his lyrics and voice, which hadn't made as much an impression on me in Soft Machine, thanks to "God Song", on which he lends his humorous philosophy to a quiet and somber tune by Phil Miller. For the most part, though, all members of the band shine brightly on this album, and the whole thing has a comfortable loose concept feel to it, applying wit and experimentation throughout with some great composition coupled with jamming by seasoned musicians. review by Gary Niederhoff — undated —

m a t t

Matching Mole was initially formed to support material written by Robert Wyatt, which comprised the bulk of the band's debut album. The musicians got along fairly well and developed a collective personality while on a busy 1972 tour (during which time keyboardist David Sinclair left to rejoin Caravan, not being comfortable with the very loose approach that the band had moved towards). Little Red Record is an attempt to capture the sound of Matching Mole, the democratic entity, in the studio. Unfortunately, I find Little Red Record to be a mixed bag that never really takes off. My initial impression of this album was that it's basically a bunch of very talented guys dicking around. I think more highly of the album these days, but not a lot more. Nothing on it is really bad, but only about a third of it interests me much — mostly, I just find it to be boring. Producer Robert Fripp has to shoulder some of the blame, although I can’t really tell what his contributions were since the general style and sound of the record is similar to the previous one and the most obvious differences — apart from a paucity of memorable passages or grooves — are not the kinds of things that one would associate with Fripp as producer. Another concern is why he’s even involved with this project in the first place: Canterbury jazz fusion is outside the scope of what he usually does and the wacky sense of humor often attendant in the style is certainly not Fripp-like. The album has more vocals than the debut, although these are often encountered in the form of asides rather than actual song lyrics. They consist of little more than light stabs at sexual and political humor and if this is the kind of stuff that Wyatt felt slighted by not being able to contribute to Soft Machine, his leaving that band was probably an exercise in making a mountain out of a mole-hill. My favorite tracks ("Marchides," "Brandy As In Benj" and the second half of "Smoke Signals"; all compositions by new keyboardist Dave McRae) are as good as the best material from the debut album, in my opinion. And even on the pieces that I don't like as much, Robert Wyatt's drumming is superb. But considering that all three of these songs can be found on the live document Smoke Signals (which includes superlative performances of other tunes from the album as well) I don't recommend seeking out Little Red Record as a way to begin an acquaintance with the band. Great cover art, though. review by Matt P. — 6-7-05 —