Craig Taborn would like 60 seconds of your time, 60 times

60 x Sixty arrived in September with minimal explanation. The main thing to know is that it’s Craig Taborn’s experiment, an online set of sixty 60-second pieces played in random order. It exists at https://60xsixty.com.

I think of 60 x Sixty as a museum installation built to be experienced from afar. In addition to the varying moods and textures of the music, each track is illustrated by one color, possibly selected at random, filling the browser window. You’re suffused in color, which can make the musical journey feel more like participating in an immersive film (albeit one where nothing physically happens). The color does not necessarily complement the sounds — and yet, you can’t help but try to marry the two.

The music is mostly electronic (solo piano makes several appearances), sometimes busy, sometimes sparse, but always conveying that placid “museum installation” feeling, even when an individual piece presents jarring rhythms or tumbling layers of motion. The tone of each musical doodle stays level — no sudden shifts within any given 60 seconds.

The pieces never feel long, for obvious reasons, but some pieces do seem to linger and develop, while others feel like they make a quick statement and then bow out. I think this was mostly a function of whether my attention was diverted — but then again, some of the “shortest” songs were the ones closest to a conventional melody and rhythm. Maybe those pieces simply offered less to explore.

It’s tempting here to draw comparisons to The Residents’ Commercial Album, which likewise consisted of 60-second tracks. Some of Taborn’s pure synth creations even feel like they could fit on that album. The Residents, though, were coming from a prankster’s POV, the conceit being that they were reducing pop songs to the essentials, stripping away repeated verses and choruses. 60 x Sixty is a more serious exploration of time and attention.

I don’t think my notes from my first listen are all that instructive, but here’s a sample:

2. Greenish brown. A stagger of drums and a distorted horn. 27. Powder blue. Very slow piano notes over a distant motor rumbling. 31. A darker pink. The white noise of ocean waves. 33. Light purple. 5/4 keyboard riff against a springy EDM beat. 38. Pale green. Jagged and corrupt. 44. Mustard. A fading chime and the rumble of an eternal subway train, almost musique concrète. 45. Pale blue. Piano with a touch of free-jazz energy (other solo piano pieces have been more ambient). 53. Forest green. Cinematic strings but also crunching, latching sounds; very Halloweeny. 54. Pale green again. Ambient piano with a Harold Budd-esque central chord. 56. Olive green. Piano in a chaotic vein, classical off the leash. 60. Royal blue. Glass insects skittering on a table of water.