Explores the heroic life and revolutionary music of the pioneering German saxophonist, and the radical social and political convictions that informed them.Peter Brötzmann is the first ever, full-length, English-language biography of one of the most fascinating and inspiring personalities in the history of Western improvised music – and one of the key artistic figures to emerge from the socio-cultural tumult of the 1960s.Drawing on extensive interviews with Brötzmann and key associates, it traces the German saxophonist’s crucial role as a pioneer of European free jazz, his restless travels and collaborations and his eventual superstardom, examining the life and work of a fiercely uncompromising artist with a reputation for gruff intensity and total commitment.Digging deep into the history and aesthetics of free jazz in Europe and beyond, it provides detailed analysis of music by Brötzmann and other major figures, while positioning Brötzmann’s work – and the wider free jazz milieu – in the context of the revolutionary left-wing, humanist and utopian ideals that inspired and underpinned it.Both intimate and wide-ranging, it tells the story of a man and a music that changed the world.
In September, 2021, Jimmy Fallon included the Peter Brötzmann album Nipples on a Tonight Show segment called the "Do Not Play List," during which Fallon mocked music he did not understand. His musical director Questlove, who should have known better, laughed along with Fallon. Free jazz fans were outraged; one suggested online that the 80-year-saxophonist "could snap Jimmy Fallon's neck like a f--king twig." Brötzmann himself was unfazed; he was well into his sixth decade of not caring if "the ignorants and stupidos" liked his music.
I have little doubt that Brötzmann could indeed have made short work of Fallon in a dark alley, even at 80. I'm equally convinced that he wouldn't have bothered and didn't care what Fallon thought. From his earliest days as a musician until his death in 2023, he followed his own muse and made his own rules. The result was some of the most uncompromising, intense, and sometimes harsh music that anyone has come up with.
Daniel Spicer's book is primarily a musical biography of Brötzmann, meaning that the basics of his life are here, but that the emphasis is on the saxophonist's musical development, his key recordings, and the changing cast of characters with whom he chose to collaborate. I learned a lot about Brötzmann's music, but even more, I came away inspired. This was a man who was totally dedicated to music and self-expression, not to "being a success," putting on a show, or making money. He broke up one of his longest-running bands, the Chicago Tentet, when most people thought they were at the top of their game. To Brötzmann, though, they were on the verge of becoming stale and predictable. He valued spontaneity over polish, even if that meant the the music might fail sometimes.
If you're reading this and have never heard Peter Brötzmann, listen to the opening track from his second album, from 1968. The track and the album are called Machine Gun, and the album is easily findable online. Machine Gun is one of the key recordings of free jazz, and it has not lost its impact nearly 60 years later. The opening section of the title tune is one of the most shocking musical moments on record. Many people will instantly turn it off, but others will be captivated by the nearly superhuman intensity of the music.
Thank you, Daniel Spicer, and thank you, Peter Brötzmann.
Love music bios as long as I'm tangentially into the artist. Wasn't super familiar with Brotzmann but am familiar with Spicer's writing in The Wire, so knew this would be well researched and written. It managed to describe the music without relying staple terms (or the word Skronk, I don't think) and got me to check out a handful of his releases.
One of the most unabashedly singular artists in the canon of art. His altissimo squeals and guttural squawks will live in the memory of the countless individuals he has touched. Brötzmann was a zeppelin of original thought and oneness with artistic preoccupation. He knew what this all means.
“We both know the world is full of ignorants and stupidos, one more or less, who cares.”