2025 stock In the early 1980s, the Dutch improvisation scene was a crucible of restless invention, and Cellotape & Scotchtape stands as a quietly radical document from its margins. Released on the small but influential Data label, this collaboration between cellist Ernst Reijseger and Scottish percussionist Alan "Gunga" Purves is a study in playful, tactile exploration—music that feels as if it’s being assembled in real time from the detritus of the everyday.

Reijseger, already known for his unorthodox approach to the cello, here treats the instrument as a laboratory for extended techniques: bowing, plucking, scraping, and coaxing out a spectrum of timbres that veer from the lyrical to the percussive. Purves, meanwhile, is a one-man cabinet of curiosities, deploying an arsenal of found objects, toys, and homemade percussion to create a sound world that is as whimsical as it is precise.

The album’s title is more than a pun; it’s a manifesto. Like the sticky tapes referenced, the duo’s improvisations bind together disparate textures and ideas—sometimes transparent, sometimes leaving a residue of friction and surprise. The music is experimental without aggression, mellow yet never complacent, always inviting the listener to lean in and discover the micro-events unfolding beneath the surface

Cellotape & Scotchtape is a testament to the art of listening and responding, a dialogue where silence and space are as vital as sound. It’s a record that rewards close attention, revealing new details with each spin—a minor classic of European free improvisation, and a reminder that the most profound musical adventures often begin with a sense of play.