I attended the recent performances of the Berlioz Requiem given by Gergiev, the CBSO and the Mariinsky Theatre orchestra at Symphony Hall. The Berlioz makes use of several brass groups – four, in fact – stationed around the auditorium. The effect of loud raspy instruments bouncing around the hall was really rather magnificent, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t heard any antiphonal early brass music for a very long time indeed. In fact, it had been so long that it took me a while to call the name of Giovanni Gabrieli to mind.

Now, hold the art of early Baroque antiphony in the back of your mind for a moment. We shall come back to it with a horrible inevitability shortly.

The other thing that impressed me about the Berlioz was the sheer number of bassoons on the stage. The passage of time may have blurred my memory but I think I counted eight, including two contrabassoons. I’ve long been a fan of the mighty bassoon; it’s one of the instruments, along with the viola, that I’d love to be able to play if I had enough lifetimes. As a tuba-player myself, the contrabassoon is obviously particularly attractive. It’s very low, and, like the tuba, can be heard over just about anything else. And, much like the tuba, it looks pretty daft.

You can probably see where I’m going with this by now. Something happened in my brain that screamed at me “ANTIPHONAL CONTRABASSOONS!”

I’m well aware that one can take tablets to avoid such things happening, but for now, in quiet moments, my mind keeps straying back to this idea. I don’t think 20 contrabassoons would be over-indulgent. Obviously a large performance space would be desirable, with a wet acoustic to allow a satisfyingly muddy wash of harmonics.

But what would they play? An arrangement of Gabrieli might work well – relatively speaking. Or a contrabass rendition of Tallis’s Spem In Alium. Or there’s always the option of a comic song like I am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General from HMS Pinafore. But that, I fear, would be pandering to stereotypes. The bassoon, again, very much like the tuba, suffers from the fact that people think it sounds silly as a solo instrument. Believe me, having heard a fearsome performance of Berio’s bassoon Sequenza live in the summer, I wouldn’t want to promote any view of the bassoon or contra as comedy instruments.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter what they’d play. And I shan’t be bothering to write anything: the chances of my gathering 20 contrabassoonists together are anything from very, very slim to absolutely nil. I shall just file the rather delicious idea away along with the marching Heckelphone ensemble and concerto for Contrabassophone and orchestra as being something that I would love to hear. But only the once.

In the month since I last posted, I’ve discovered that I can just about make sense of Sorabji’s Opus Clavicembalisticum (as a listener rather than a player!) and both the new Bunnymen and Raveonettes albums have turned up. Both are rather good, if you can get past the extremely poppy production of the former and the rather crass “Boys Who Rape” on the latter.

So, anyway, today’s listening:

• Bach – Partitas 1, 5, 6 (Murray Perahia)
• Mussorgsky – Pictures at an Exhibition arranged for accordion duo
• Mozart – early symphony chosen at random (don’t recall which)
• Echo & The Bunnymen – The Fountain
• Haydn – Cello Concertos 1 & 2 (Rostropovich)
• Eels – Hombre Lobo

If anything else gets played, it’ll probably be a randomly-selected disc from the Altarus Opus Clavicembalisticum set. I’m assimilating that piece gradually.

Excuse the lack of commentary for this list. It was a long day at the chocolate teapot factory. Needless to say, the Bunnymen single continues to be magnificent.

At home, I found that the new BBC Music magazine had arrived, and so I cooked the dinner while not really paying attention to Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde (in fact I was so busy reading the reviews section that I didn’t really pay attention to what was bubbling away on the hob either, with the result that my pasta boiled over). I can’t offer anything by way of intelligent comment on the BBC disc. I’ll listen to it properly tomorrow.

This evening it’s been a “jazz curiosities” session:

• Christof Lauer – Fragile Network
• Michel Godard – Castel del Monte II

And, finally, the new Echo & The Bunnymen single, Think I Need It Too. I wasn’t going to buy it, as both tracks are on the album. But that meant depriving myself of hearing them for a fortnight, and that simply wouldn’t do. Needless to say, it’s perfect – classic Bunnymen, with a Krautrocky motoric rhythm, two chords and the sort of chorus that none of today’s mummy’s boys can manage. And Mac is in particularly fine voice.

• Soler – Fandango (Aapo Hakkinen)
• Neil Young – Zuma (several times, again)
• Haydn – assorted piano sonatas (Marc-André Hamelin, thanks to a recommendation by James Rhodes)
• Honegger – Symphony no. 2

That be it.

• Zuma (almost four times)
• Tonight’s The Night
• Mirrorball

I’ve now got a little pre-bedtime post-rock on, in the form of the magnificent self-titled album by This Will Destroy You. They make me very nostalgic for the time when it was still possible to anticipate a new release by Godspeed You! Black Emperor.

• Haydn etc. – Trumpet Concertos – Alison Balsom
• Republica – Republica
• The Jesus & Mary Chain – Automatic
• Jim Reid – Dead End Kids single
• The Libertines – The Libertines
• The Manhattan Love Suicides – Burnt Out Landscapes
• Soft Cell – Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret
• Haydn etc. – Trumpet Concertos again
• J.C. Bach – Symphonies op. 9

In my defense, I only listened to “Ready To Go” and “Drop Dead Gorgeous” off Republica. They were one of those tail-end-of-Britpop groups that only had a couple of songs. And, like Garbage just before them, their main appeal was a trappy and attractive frontwoman concealing the largely charisma-free backing group of older men who could have been session players for all anyone cared.

“Sex Dwarf”, from Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is still one of the most gloriously filthy songs ever committed to vinyl.

I do, however, feel it necessary to state that I listened to something by Muse last night. It was rotten. In contrast, what I did listen to today was, on the whole, marvellous:

• Haydn – Symphonies no. 93, 97 (Colin Davis)
• The Raveonettes – Lust Lust Lust
• Haydn, Hummel etc. – Trumpet concertos (Alison Balsom)
• J.C. Bach – Symphonies, op. 9

I’ve discovered Alison Balsom’s playing rather later than everyone else; I must admit that when a fuss was being made about this album I was put off by the rather vampy photography. Surely, thought I, if EMI are marketing Ms. Balsom on her looks then her playing must be deficient (cf Katherine Jenkins). But no. She is, of course, supremely talented – a woman possessed by music if ever there was one.

That’s yer lot. I promised that I only had one Doctor & The Medics story, and I wasn’t lying.

• Leadbelly – King of the Blues (compilation)
• The Sunday Reeds – Drowning In History
• Brahms – Piano Concerto no. 2 (Ashkenazy, Haitink)
• Brahms – Symphony no. 2 (Abbado, Berlin Phil)
• Betty Boo – Boomania (yes, really)
• Doctor & The Medics – Laughing at the Pieces
• Echo & The Bunnymen – What Are You Going To Do With Your Life?
• Echo & The Bunnymen – Siberia
• Sun Ra – We Travel The Spaceways/Bad and Beautiful
• The Sunday Reeds – Drowning in History (again)
• J.C. Bach – Symphonies, op. 9
• The Wedding Present – Bizarro

One of the saddest gigs I ever attended was Doctor & The Medics reinvented as a terrible tribute band. I really like their original material – it’s cod-psychedelic white soul, with nonsense lyrics about kettles, fried eggs, and naughty no-nos – to see The Doctor plus a band of completely new recruits trudging through (and murdering) things like the B52s’ Love Shack was so distressing that we walked out and went to hear a Thin Lizzy tribute band, Dizzy Lizzy, instead. The latter was far more fun.

In the car, it’s been mostly these three albums:

• The Fall – The Infotainment Scan
• The Sunday Reeds – Drowning in History
• Kronos Quartet with Asha Bhosle – You’ve Stolen My Heart

I’m still enjoying The Sunday Reeds’ album immensely. The guitar feedback on it is absolutely ferocious, which is never a bad thing. And I’m surprised by how often I’m returning to Infotainment; it remains one of my favourite Fall LPs, and definitely one of the group’s stronger LPs (with Levitate) of the 1990s.

Tuesday’s listening was:

• Prokofiev – Romeo & Juliet (Previn)
• Morrissey – Southpaw Grammar
• Teenage Fanclub - Bandwagonesque
• The Fall – Infotainment Scan
• Haydn – Symphony no. 15
• Haydn – Symphony no. 16
• Haydn – Symphony no. 17

On Tuesday night I went to see The Lemonheads at the Irish Centre in Birmingham. I could be misjudging him, but Evan Dando seemed rather (ahem) unfocused. Or, less charitably, off his face. He wasn’t happy with the sound, and stropped off stage in his acoustic solo spot having mumbled something about not being able to hear himself after a second attempt at playing “Favourite Tee”. Now, I don’t mind a decent rock ‘n’ roll strop – but if you’re going to come back on stage, don’t then be surly and ruin the mood. I left with a slightly sour taste in my mouth, which wasn’t helped the following day on listening to the covers album, Varshons, which I picked up at the gig. It is, frankly, completely underwhelming.

Friday’s listening was:

• Honegger – Chamber Concerto for Flute, Cor Anglais & Orchestra
• Schnittke – Praeludium in Memoriam Dmitri Shostakovich
• Shostakovich – Symphony no. 14 (Rostropovich)
• Bruckner – Symphony no. 3 (Haitink)
• Carter – Elegy for String Orchestra
• Carter – Cello Sonata

Friday night heralded another trip to hear the CBSO, and a concert of two halves. Elgar’s In The South opened the evening’s festivities, and it started well. I’m no Elgar fan, but it had me paying fairly close attention to begin with. Unfortunately it soon descended into the all-too-familiar turgid Elgar-by-numbers that I loathe so well. I duly drifted off elsewhere and my attention was only recaptured by a couple of rather nice brass and wind chords towards the end of it. The fourth Mozart horn concerto, with our principal horn, Elspeth Dutch, as soloist, was little better. Dutch was obviously having an off-night, and I felt less and less comfortable as I anticipated split notes that arrived with alarming regularity. Conductor Michael Seal and orchestra seemed to be giving the piece a completely perfunctory treatment and the effect was a performance that gave the impression of wanting to get the piece out of the way as quickly as possible.

The second half was much better – Thomas Trotter never disappoints on organ, and a blazing rendition of “the” Widor toccata on the Symphony Hall organ is worth the price of a ticket alone. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve heard it played badly at a wedding: on that instrument, with Trotter at the helm, you may as well be hearing it for the first time. How can music so familiar be so exciting? Sheer volume has something to do with it, I’m sure… Saint-Saens’s third symphony suffered from some over-quick tempi that left the first movement’s stuttering theme a bit of a shambles in places, but once it got going all was well. Saint-Saens 3 is a miracle of sructural engineering, with the Dies Irae woven into every fibre of its being, and perhaps isn’t taken seriously enough due to its status as a bit of a pot-boiler. It has great emotional power, though, and Seal judged the pace of the slow second half of the first movement absolutely beautifully.

Today I’ve been experimenting with my new speakers, and have had the following on:

• Haydn – Symphony no. 60
• The Jesus and Mary Chain – I Hate Rock ‘n’ Roll 12″ promo
• Pink Floyd – The Wall
• Webern – Symphony, op. 21
• Cecilia Bartoli – Maria
• Shostakovich – Symphony no. 15 (Järvi/Gothenburg SO)
• Shostakovich – Symphony no. 4 (Rostropovich)
• Haydn – String Quartets, op. 33

Phew.