Short, jagged improvisations that hit hard and move fast, drawn from the restless New York scene of 1983.
Locus Solus opens with a rush of abrasive, stop-start playing, the kind of sound that jumps between clipped phrases and sudden silences before you have settled into a tempo. John Zorn's clarinet darts and scrapes over a bed of turntable noise from Christian Marclay, and the music rarely stays in one shape for long. The tracks are short and angular, and the overall effect is restless rather than soothing, with a raw energy that comes through even on a first listen.
The album was originally released as a double vinyl set on Rift Records in 1983, a document of improvisation at a time when Zorn was working heavily in New York's downtown scene. Spin's Alternative Record Guide gave it 8 out of 10, and The Penguin Guide to Jazz called it one of the sacred texts of 1980s New York improv, noting its fierce, scrabbly associations and its debt to the power trio aesthetic, though it also found the set rather abrupt at times. A 1990 CD reissue on Eva/Wave added material, and Zorn's own Tzadik label reissued it again in 1997.
Where it sits in Zorn's catalogue is a matter of taste. It is not the place to start with him, but for listeners already drawn to his noisier, more confrontational side, it is a useful and very direct piece of that work. Expect something rough and fast rather than polished, and it will likely reward you.