The rocky suspension of John Adams's 'Fast machine' (as refurbished for wind band by Lawrence T. Odorn) makes for a rougher 'Short ride' than, say, the composer himself provides in his more luxuriant original version (Elektra Nonesuch, 8/88 – nla); yet either serves as a thrilling concert opener. The sound on this new Chandos recording is pleasingly open and 'up-front', with prominent brass, bright percussion and a realistic dynamism. Likewise in the spaciously rolling Grand Pianola Music, where a tangy blend of two pianos, three sopranos and an ensemble of woodwind, brass and percussion works through sundry ''elements of the composer's heritage'' (I'm quoting from Keith Potter's useful notes) until we reach the vistaed home straight ''On the Dominant Divide''. Here, the two antiphonally placed pianos throw a maddeningly memorable tune between them, excitably supported by the band – and especially by the bass drum. It is in this last respect that EMI's deleted Solisti New York/Ransom Wilson recording (9/85) continues to deliver the greater impact, as well as granting more clarity to the right-hand pianist's echoing embellishments (that is, the passage that falls at precisely 2'23'' both on track 13 of the present collection and on track 2 of EMI's disc). The augmented Netherlands Wind Ensemble play extremely well for Stephen Mosko but create a heavier body of sound than Adams himself commands via the London Sinfonietta, while Elektra's recording achieves the finer balance of textures.
As to choices, Adams adds his madcap Chamber Symphony, whereas Mosko presents two works by another young American composer, David Lang (b. 1957). The first takes its lead from the Jimi Hendrix album ''Are you experienced?'' and starts with a spoken confession from the composer himself, who calmly informs us that while he was ''busy setting up, someone crept up silently behind you [that's you, the listener] and dealt a quick blow to the side of your head''. The musical upshot of this unfortunate piece of enforced biography is a Nymanesque dance, a violent encounter with the 'Voice of God', and a consolatory ''Siren's Song'' – most of it crafted along vaguely minimalist lines, with texts spoken rather than sung. Lang's narrative is surreal yet unpretentious, an entertaining sequence that draws you into its zany world with considerable ease. The music, too, is appealing, whereas Under Orpheus – a fleshed-out re-working of a 1989 piece for two pianos – backs insistent two-piano tremolos with shifting support from wind and brass. It's fascinating stuff, but less immediate than the companion work.
All in all, this is a worthy addition to Chandos's enterprising New Direction series and should be heartily welcomed by those for whom modern music means – among other things one hopes – pulse, harmony and a guaranteed level of accessibility. R1 '9510002'