Evil inspires. From Chuck Berry birthing the "devil's music," to the 70s pyrotechnics of KISS, to the gorily detailed Prince sex of the 1980s, indecency and the notion of complete self-empowerment has driven artists and listeners alike. Beyond the well-known (and usually exaggerated) tales of devilish mischief, there are many examples of black inspiration producing great works of art: Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring," Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange, and the work of George Crumb, just to name a few. Free will's ties to deviance go back a long way, and have apparently been of use to more than just practitioners of the black arts.

Experimental music icon John Zorn has been living on the edge of deviance for some time now. In the mid-80s, during his six month sojourns to Japan, repeated exposure to extreme porn and S&M; rubbed off on him-- enough to find a place in his compositions with Naked City and afterwards. He's produced soundtracks for South American gay porn, placed dead bodies and decapitated heads on his CD covers (there's a pentagram on the back of this one), and composed whole albums about deadly poisons. Zorn seems tempted by the dark side, and it often brings out the best in him.

IAO is his meditation on evil, specifically concerned with the Beast (the name IAO is Kabbalistically identical to 'Satan'). The liner notes tell me it was partially inspired by cult theorist Aleister Crowley, who spent most of his life practicing and writing about the concept of 'Magick.' As much as I can gather, Magick was the practice of governing and empowering one's sense of free will through Gnostic rituals (often with sexual symbolism) and tarot cards, all tied together by a system of strange symbols and a mythical poem called "Liber al vel Legis." Crowley was as subversive a figure as you're likely to find, and it's not hard to see how his esoteric deviance could have inspired Zorn to focus on primal fears and ritualistic lusts.

The music of IAO is classic Zorn: dark ambient exoticism, ethnic percussion exercises, hypnotic suspense-film music, thrash, and avant-garde classical. Similar to his recent "Music for Children" series, he seems to be loosening the reins on his tradition for branding each project an isolated incident, opting instead to use all of his best colors on one canvas. "Invocation," follows Crowley's ritual model, and its clanging cymbals and use of null space seem to nod to Nurse with Wound's similarly disturbing Homotopy to Marie. A church organ (of all things) opens the track with dissonant, wavering chords, and bells rustle along both sides of the stereo. They give way to a whirling tailwind, and what sounds like someone sharpening a blade. And like a black hole, this implodes slightly, only to supernova into a wall of flies. This may actually be the loudest moment on the album, and two minutes in, it's apparent that Zorn's new album is one of the better records to be affiliated with the black arts (a short list, I know). I won't bring up the backwards-singing choir or voodoo sticks, as I'm sure you'll want to experience the sheer thrill for yourself.

"Sex Magick" is probably the most straightforward tune here, a 13-minute tribal percussion trance. Again, the act of ritual plays into the program-- where Crowley may have hinted at carnal desires in his individual yoga-like meditations, Zorn goes for hidden jungle rites of sacrifice and ancient fertility. Musically, I'm not sure the idea of these rituals isn't more interesting than the fairly basic groove set up by percussionists Cyro Baptista and Jim Pugliese, but with this music, imagery is everything. "Sacred Rites of the Left-Hand Path" uses repetitive rhythmic patterns again to describe the ritual, but instead of heavy percussion, Zorn uses understated electric and acoustic pianos, synth, and scattered hand drums. The prevailing atmosphere is not unlike classic Tangerine Dream (or even "Everything in Its Right Place"-style Radiohead), but the strange acoustic interruptions emphasize the music's natural inspirations.

"Leviathan" features Mike Patton on lead, er, screaming, and is arguably the best thrash-influenced track in Zorn's entire catalog. The chaotic percussion (which eventually inverts to being played backwards mid-song-- Zorn is getting better at using the studio as an instrument) and completely unrestrained guitars produce a sound that wouldn't be out of place on a black metal album. Even further out is "Lucifer Rising," which features an a capella female choir. The music is almost soothing, though dissonant, as the circular melody pushes higher and higher. However, what stands out is the sickly, desperately tempting whispers from the soloist. I can't quite make out what she's saying, but it sounds like one part seductive invitation, another part surreal plea for torture.

As I mentioned, IAO falls squarely in line with Zorn's recent projects, wherein he seems interested in integrating many of the elements experimented with over the past twenty years into a single statement. Like 2001's Songs from the Hermetic Theater, and going back to 90s releases such as Kristallnacht and Duras:Duchamp, this record is an example of how rampant eclecticism can lead to something more than just a mishmash of styles. Whatever the inspiration for IAO, the results are often so engaging (and, yes, sometimes scary) that it's hard to question Zorn's motives. Go ahead, come in.

-Dominique Leone, August 2nd, 2002