Minimalist Magic

By Michael Walsh

TITLE: JESUS' BLOOD NEVER FAILED ME YET

COMPOSER: GAVIN BRYARS

LABEL: POINT MUSIC

THE BOTTOM LINE: The technique of hypnotic repetition yields a moving affirmation of the power of simple song.

Composers have long recognized the hypnotic impact of repeated melody: the grinding pathos of the Albinoni Adagio; the inexorable drive of Ravel's Bolero; the serene radiance of Gandhi's final aria in Glass's Satyagraha. None of these pieces, however, approach in length or cumulative impact a new work by British composer Gavin Bryars, Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet, which is at once an apotheosis of minimalist technique and a moving affirmation of the power of simple song.

Running nearly an hour, the music could not be more artless: an endlessly repeated tape loop of a now deceased London derelict intoning a hymn tune. "Jesus' blood never failed me yet," he sings. "There's one thing I know, for He loves me so." The old man's voice is untrained and shaky. And yet the tape, recorded in 1971 for a documentary film, has an undeniable dignity that Bryars found irresistible. Starting with a simple piano accompaniment, the composer gradually expanded the orchestration in a series of live performances, which culminated in 1975 in a half-hour recording on art-rocker Brian Eno's Obscure Records label.

And there it languished, obscurely, until the advent of compact-disc technology, which permitted Bryars to fashion a version twice as long -- and at least four times as ambitious. Beginning with a fade-in of the tramp's a cappella singing, it slowly builds and swells, with new instruments constantly added to a basic string quintet. Cellos and basses come and go; horns, trombones and contrabassoons add color; a full string orchestra emerges, along with a vocal choir. Finally, pop singer Tom Waits joins in, his raspy, passionate baritone contrasting with the old man's reedy tenor. Its long journey finished, the music slowly drifts away on the wings of this unlikely duet.

Jesus' Blood is not for everyone. Its lack of development can seem monotonous, its shifting harmonies too subtle. Its strength lies in eloquent simplicity.