Along with vast numbers of luminaries and laureates, among them playwrights, cosmologists, sculptors and microbiologists, John Zorn was, in 2006, named a MacArthur Fellow. The MacArthur Fellows Programme is granted to varying numbers of U.S. citizens who "show exceptional merit and promise for continued and enhanced creative work." In some ways it’s as good a summary as any of John Zorn; American saxophonist and composer. However, it would be an inherent non-sequitur to attempt to summarise John Zorn; his work sprawls and encompasses everything. Therein lies his genius, the juxtaposition of absolutely everything with itself. The man himself says “my musical world is like a little prism. You look through it and it goes off in a million different directions. Since every genre is the same, all musicians should be equally respected. It doesn’t matter if it’s jazz, blues or classical. They’re all the same.” John Zorn is everything different and everything the same. The crystalline comparison is one used by a number of modernist composers: Edgard Varese said “possible musical forms are as limitless as the exterior forms of crystals”, Arvo Part is noted to have said “I could compare my music to white light which contains all colours. Only a prism can divide the colours and make them appear; this prism could be the spirit of the listener”. Whether or not Zorn was aware of those quotations is irrelevant, the point is that he’s the most recent example of a composer of music as a catalyst for the sublimination of feeling, a theory that Iannis Xenakis proposed.


John Zorn mines a plethora of influences, it’s well known. From cartoon music (Raymond Scott), to traditional Jewish music, to the more obvious points of reference (Ennio Morricone and Ornette Coleman). Above it all, however, John Zorn is about amalgamation. Sure, it was his tribute to Ennio Morricone (The Big Gundown) that was his breakthrough, but it was the fact Zorn drew from the roots of Morricone, from soul to jazz and stopping off in Latin America, and reinvented the songs themselves.
There is a TV programme called The Twilight Zone. I became aware of this show because Omar Rodriguez-Lopez (of The Mars Volta) is quoted saying: “the theme of the programme explores the idea that once you’ve created something, like a song, it carries on its own life in some other dimension and becomes something that exists beyond you.” It’s an apt elucidation of the success of The Big Gundown and Zorn’s reinterpretation of his influences. Ennio Morricone composed the music on The Big Gundown and many people have recorded versions of Morricone’s work but in Morricone’s words, “no-one has done them like this”. One major point of interest about this album is the sheer number of amazing guests: Diamanda Galas, Fred Frith, Bill Frisell and Arto Lindsay are all featured and most would become regular collaborators.


Before his Morricone tribute, Zorn embarked on three albums of “musical and cultural terrorism”. Structured and improvised, Pool, Archery and Locus Solus are all fascinating artefacts that explore multiple permutations of ensemble composition and possibility of expressive playing (read: soloing). It’s true that these anarchic early recordings, reminiscent of Karlheinz Stockhausen and Antony Braxton are probably more a part of history than essential purchases but the template roots of Zorn’s manic improv-jazz/rock can be found here.


Spy Vs. Spy: The Music of Ornette Coleman is, obviously, a tribute to one of Zorn’s major influences and, again, he reinvents the originals, moulding them with his own clay. However, this time, it doesn’t work and the resulting mess is oft acknowledged as one of the worst John Zorn albums, despite its historical importance. The songs merge into one another due to the listener’s boredom rather than deliberate segues and I would strongly recommend leaving this until your Zorn collection nears fanatical levels.

Around the late ’80s Zorn formed one of his best (and certainly his most famous) band, Naked City. For the most part, it comprised of himself on alto sax, Wayne Horvitz, Fred Frith, Joey Baron, Bill Frisell and Yamatsuka Eye (of the Boredoms). In essence, this band was to act out Zorn’s infatuation with cartoon music by way of a jazz/grindcore band. The band’s aesthetic, stylistically, was a no-holds-barred overview of pretty much any genre you care to mention; the band is famed for the frequent tempo changes in the midst of a torrent of styles and themes. If you’re looking for where Blind Idiot God and Mr. Bungle got their schtick, look no further. Speaking of Mike Patton, he took over from Yamatsuka Eye for Naked City’s later live performances. It’s this band, more than any other, that gained Zorn attention that included people more acquainted with rock music.


Of the four albums that typify the Naked City stereotype, their self-titled is the best. (Torture Garden, Grand Guignol and Radio being the others.) The music is violent and fleets from white noise to smooth jazz, often visiting degenerate subsections of acid rock, funk and 12-tone serialism. The band doesn’t take themselves too seriously however and it’s the sense of humour that overrides all the S&M imagery and damaged themes and ultimately makes the music such a joy to listen to. Look no further than this and you have what should be your first Zorn album. The aforementioned quartet of somewhat ‘typical’ Naked City albums are the albums, generally, that influence modern bands; The Locust, for instance, seem like the logical evolution of the highly violent streak of Naked City. (An extension of the abrasive, waves-of-noise side of Zorn can be found with Painkiller: Guts of a Virgin is probably the best place to look for an introduction into the band.) Beyond the obvious quartet, however, are the lesser-known but no less influential works Leng Tch’e and Absinthe. Both of these albums, entirely metal and entirely ambient respectively, seem (paradoxically) to have been the precedent to such works as Meshuggah’s Catch Thirty Three and Orthrelm’s OV.

As much as I’d like to, I can’t go through every segment of Zorn’s career and detail all of his musical activities, there is not enough time and I have only a portion of his considerable output. Instead, I will, at a later date, write about the two main sections of his career left unwritten, his work with Masada and his chamber music.

Connected music: John Zorn; Edgard Varèse; Arvo Pärt; Iannis Xenakis; Raymond Scott; Ennio Morricone; Ornette Coleman; Omar A. Rodriguez-Lopez; The Mars Volta; Diamanda Galás; Fred Frith; Arto Lindsay; John Coltrane Bill Frisell; Karlheinz Stockhausen; Miles Davis; Eric Dolphy; Peter Brötzmann; Hoahio; Scott Johnson; Anthony Braxton; Wayne Horvitz; Joey Baron; Yamatsuka Eye; Frank Zappa Boredoms; Blind Idiot God; Mr. Bungle; Naked City; Mike Patton; The Locust; Meshuggah; Orthrelm; Ikue Mori; Masada; DNA; The Big Gundown; The Circle Maker; Pool; Archery; Locus Solus; Spy vs. Spy: The Music of Ornette Coleman; Naked City.