McPhee was a rum-soaked composer who enjoyed the climate of
the South Pacific; he was so overtaken by Balinese gamelans that upon returning
to the States, he was unable to do anything other than compose in gamelan
style. Now, this was both good and bad, depending on how you look at it:
for us today, it was a blessing; McPhee introduced Balinese music to the
West--he transcribed it and got it played. Thank you. For him, however,
it was a disaster. He became very depressed and basically drank himself
to death in the early '60s as a result of being ignored (or perhaps being
labeled as a one-trick-pony). Little did he know that the Minimalists were
just around the corner and had he lived, he would've been canonized by them.
Oh well, listen and enjoy the fruits of this early modernist classicwritten
in 1935. Lift your glasses high to the memory of McPhee as you lilt to the
warm breezy gamelan-inspired sonic wealth of this oddball work and composer.