Didier Petit-Alexandre Pierrepont

Passages
RogueArt ROG-0042

By Ken Waxman

While the ‘50s were the heyday for “Jazz with Poetry” recordings, leave it to the French to create a “Jazz without Poetry” recording. Unlike say Jack Kerouac reading his works while Zoot Sims improvises beside him in the studio, the musicians here improvise while listening to Alexandre Pierrepont’s poetry through headphones. Further confounding the paradigm, Pierrepont reads in French, then an English-speaker reads the same passage in French idiosyncratically altering the meaning. Very occasionally snatches of field recordings, including guitar strums or soprano vocalizing leak into the mix, but except for once, nothing of the poem is heard.

The results are fascinating instances of bare-bones improv, which exists independently of the poem, but is informed by Pierrepont’s retelling of Martin Frobisher’s doomed 16th Century search for the Northwest Passage. Passages’s tracks were recorded during a US cross country trip during which veteran Paris-based cellist Didier Petit traded ideas with improvisers in Woodstock, NYC, Chicago or LA.

Despite similar sentiments in their headphones, it’s notable how different each track sounds. For instance, “Passage” with pianist Marilyn Crispell, and “écluse” with clarinetist François Houle exude a semi-classical sensibility. Crispell’s recital-ready chording calmly meets Petit’s moderato cello tones; while Houle’s contralto flutters and lyrical sophistication is matched by the cellist’s restrained glissandi, which percussively double stops at the end.

On the other hand in Chicago, when Petit meets flutist Nicole Mitchell, the two bond over a chromatic blues line, plucked by the cellist, which is later deconstructed by the flutist’s sharply pitched tones as Petit adds twangs and verbal yelps. Chicago’s blues history doesn’t figure into other improvisations recorded there either. For instance with Michael Zerang creating darabukka throbs and Hamid Drake strumming the tar alongside cello glissandi on “vendanges”, the effect is more Maghreb then Michigan Avenue.

Then in NYC, Gerald Cleaver’s pointed thrusts on “les ciseaux de l’air et de l’eau” avoid a backbeat and concentrate on blunt rebounds plus scratching shrills from cymbal tops as Petit mordantly saws his strings and vocalizes gutturally.

“Crâne-Sablier” featuring tenor saxophonist Larry Ochs and “je lis sur toutes les lèvres” where Kamau Daáood joins Ochs and Petit, best exemplifies the project. Petit’s high-pitched scat singing and strident string adjustments, which expose partials as well as root textures, perfectly complement Ochs’ harsh tongue stops and sour vibrations. Later, alongside recurring cello patterns and Tranesque altissimo bites, Daáood’s sing-song recitation lets you hear Pierrepont’s root poetics.

Unlike Frobisher’s misjudgment, the passages here are ones which many listeners will want to negotiate for unique musical rewards.

Tracks: Passage; la Reine Rêve Rouge; les ciseaux de l’air et de l’eau; l’alphabet de leur rayures; sous l’arbre en pleine mer; Déesse-Allégresse; des griffes, des racines, des pierres; vendanges; il faut descendre plus au Sud; écluse; le gîte et le couvert; Crâne-Sablier; je lis sur toutes les lèvres

Personnel: Didier Petit: cello, voice; Alexandre Pierrepont: poetry, voice; plus Michael Dessen: trombone; François Houle: clarinet; Nicole Mitchell: flute; Matt Bauder or Larry Ochs tenor saxophone; Marilyn Crispell: piano; Jim Baker: analog synthesizer; Andrea Parkins: electronic accordion and effects, laptop electronics, amplified objects; Joe Morris: guitar; Hamid Drake: tar; Gerald Cleaver: drums, percussion; Michael Zerang: darabukka; Hal Rammel: amplified pallet; Kamau Daáood: voice

--For The New York City Jazz Record June 2013

June 13, 2013

Festival Report

The Guelph Jazz Festival
By Ken Waxman

A spectre was haunting the 2012 Guelph Jazz Festival (GJF), but it was a benign spectre: the ghost of John Coltrane. The influence of Coltrane, who died in 1967, was honored in direct and indirect ways throughout the five days of the festival which takes places annually in this mid-sized college town, 100 kilometres west of Toronto.

This year’s edition (September 5 to 9), featured two live performances of Ascension, Coltrane’s free jazz masterwork from 1965, one with the original instrumentation by an 11-piece Toronto ensemble at the local arts centre; the other on the main stage of the soft-seated River Run Centre concert hall featured the Bay-area ROVA saxophone’s quartet reimaging of the work, scored for 12 musicians adding strings and electronics to the basic ensemble.

Coltrane’s legacy was also apparent in the improvising of Reggie Workman, bassist in one version of Trane`s quartet, with the Brew trio with kotoist Miya Masaoka and percussionist Gerry Hemingway, as well as in the impassioned playing of alto saxophonist Darius Jones, whose duo with pianist Matthew Shipp split the bill with Brew during an afternoon concert in the River Run`s smaller concert hall. Coltrane’s commend of the saxophone was not only recalled in the wide ranging work of many other reedists present, including a trio of saxophonists in the jazz-jive-R&B Shuffle Demons band, one of the high points of the GJF’s 12 hours of free outdoor concerts in a large tent in front of Guelph City Hall, but in a more profound fashion by the incisive tenor soloing by Peter Brötzmann and Larry Ochs. Those two gigs were part of the more than six dozen other performances during the GJF’s third annual dusk-to-dawn Nuit Blanche extravaganza. The ghostly forms visible during Nuit Blanche, were those of festival goers moving at interval s among sites throughout the city ranging from art galleries, yoga studios to parks attending as many shows as possible.

True to the shape of the composition, Rova’s Electric Ascension – cornetist Rob Mazurek; saxophonists Larry Ochs, Jon Raskin, Steve Adams and Bruce Ackley; violinists Carla Kihlstedt and Jenny Scheinman; guitarist Nels Cline; Fred Frith on electric bass; drummers Hamid Drake; Ikue Mori and Chris Brown on electronics – used prompts and hand signals to pilot Trane’s amorphous score. With Drake’s backbeat plus Brown’s and Mori’s processed oscillations and juddering vibrations constant presences, the performance frequently was transported from dense tremolo crescendos for all, to measured solos, duos and trios. An impassioned, double-time alto solo for instance would be paired with opaque guitar distortion and sluicing electric bass runs; or a phrase would toggle between Mazurek’s looped triplets and Raskin’s stretched tongue stops; or unison guitar and violin plinking would presage a cacophonous sound-shard explosion

Frith’s characteristically witty guitar playing was better exposed during a Nuit Blanche show at the intimate Guelph Youth Music Centre (GYMC). Instrument resting on his knees, bare feet manipulating effects pedals, Frith pummeled and bowed his strings more often than he strummed them; showed drum stick between strings and the neck and used an e-bow to create chiming vibrating while picking up snatches of local radio programs. Although processing as well, Masaoka was similarly restrained at the Brew set, relying instead on her koto command able to replicate anything from harp-like glissandi to isolated guitar picking on her multi-string instrument; she even used chop sticks on the bridge for different effects. Committed to three-way dialogue, Hemingway smacked, rotated, patted and tapped his drums and cymbals. Meanwhile Workman maintained pulsating, jazz-defining bass lines when he wasn’t rubbing his strings or bowing and stroking them in one fluid motion. At one point he achieved a rhythmic effect knee-slapping and foot-banging.

Rhythmic beats were present in abundance during a well-attended church-basement set by Norway’s Huntsville – guitarist/banjoist Ivar Grydeland, electric bassist Tonny Kluften and percussionist Ingar Zach – joined by Cline and drummer Glenn Kotche. Although there were sequences during which Kluften’s pedal point joined Grydeland, jangling guitar runs or bowed banjo twangs plus Zach’s contrapuntal tap, wiggle and pops on miscellaneous percussion gave new impetus to the buoyant folk-like melodies the trio uniquely reconstruction. Cline and Kotche may have spent too much time in rock bands. Flashy and busy in the guitarist’s case or overwhelming percussive in the drummer’s, the two exacerbated a tendency to leadenness only lessened when Kotche withdrew for Zach’s beat manipulation and Cline concentrated on vibrating a shruti box.

Simple, folk-like melodies were also prominent during a morning recital at the (GYMC) by Scheinman and pianist Myra Melford. Melford frequently also squeezed accordion-like tremolos from a harmonium as Scheinman used glissandi friction and flying spiccatto to build up dramatic sequences from what sometime threatened to turn into a hoedown. But the detours away from fiddle tunes with accompaniment towards compositions that allowed the pianist to exhibit spiky intonation and a slippery blues time sense were more notable. Melford’s 12-bar command also appeared 24 hours later in the same location as her encore following a rapturously received solo piano showcased was a pumped-up version of honky-tonk. Her skill digging into blues chord progressions was as obvious as her playing of a series of emotional miniatures she previewed, composed to reflect a series of artist’s sketches. Using assertive elbow pushes on the keyboard plus jocular stops and variously weighted climaxes, she composed a series of interludes that threatened to fragment into dissonance but never did.

Another pianist skillful in exhibiting the broad strokes of dissonance is Shipp. His recourse to glistening arpeggio runs, processional chording, kinetic patterning and waves of impressionistic color was notable in itself. Evolving in parallel fashion to Jones’ reed invention was another highlight. With his all-encompassing and fluid blowing approaching the intensity of late Coltrane, Jones often compressed distended cries and altissimo screams into aggressive almost impenetrable glossolalia; elsewhere he built solos out of key percussion, distended slurps and reed bites or churned so many splintered runs that Shipp relied on foot pedal pressure to meet him.

Ochs and Brötzmann were two other extenders of Trane’s spirit, the former in a duo with Drake in a yoga studio and the latter with vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz at the (GYMC). Weaving his tenor or soprano saxophone above the packed crowd seated on the floor, Ochs mixed moderato and agitated tones as he slid from harsh reflux to shofar-like bays, swallowed breaths, vocalized altissimo riffs or nephritic cries. Connecting these disjointed vibrations, Drake used windmill-like patterning as he rapped on a wood block, strokes drum tops and cymbals with brushes and gauged exactly when to clobber his bass drum for maximum effect. If Ochs/Drake recalled Trane’s celebrated duets with Rashied Ali, then Brötzmann, who created an unparalleled Euroimprov variant around the time Ascension was recorded, boisterously pushed each one of its four horns to its limits backed only by an instrument he professed to dislike. Favoring four mallets, vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz held his own however emphasizing his instrument’s chordal and percussive qualities. With marionette-like jerks, sometime balancing on one foot, the vibist rang out enough polyphonic chords or hard-hitting single notes to match Brötzmann, whether he was producing blues-based multiphonics from his alto, angled smears from his tárogató or stacking intense blasts ridden with even tougher split-tone shrieks from his tenor.

Like Coltrane or nearly every one of the featured performers at the 2012 festival, Brötzmann balanced absolute sound experimentation with sonic story telling. His breath-taking textural display helped pinpoint why the GJF has become a major international festival. Participants are now anxiously awaiting 2013’s edition to find out what the GJF’s significant 20th anniversary edition will highlight.

--For New York City Jazz Record October 2012

October 7, 2012

Chicago Trio

Velvet Songs: To Baba Fred Anderson
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A tribute disc without including any of the dedicatee’s music, this two-CD set was actually recorded almost two years before the death of Chicago tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson in 2010. But these uncompromising, heart-felt performances captured at the Velvet Lounge, the south-side club Anderson ran for many decades, are more meaningful tributes to the musician and his abiding influence than any lachrymose song recreation.

That’s because, before a late career re-discovery in the 1990s that saw Anderson record dozens of CDs before his death, he was best-known as a club owner – the Birdhouse was his previous venue – and a bandleader who encouraged young talent and gave experimental musicians, mostly, but not exclusively from, the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, a regular place to play. Each of the Chicago Trio members benefitted from Anderson’s counsel in different ways. Now in-demand for a multitude of gigs in Europe and North America, Hamid Drake was a teenage percussionist given his first professional experience in Anderson’s band. Bassist and cellist Harrison Bankhead, a confrere of the tenor saxophonist in Anderson’s later bands, also worked with other committed improvisers like flautist Nicolle Mitchell and trumpeter Malachi Thompson. Meanwhile Ernest Dawkins, who plays soprano, alto and tenor saxophones plus percussion here played his first gig at the Birdhouse and often played with his New Horizons band at the Velvet Lounge.

Almost a quarter-century younger than his mentor, Dawkins, as can be seen by his choice of instruments and allusions to Africa and the Caribbean in his compositions, is open to more influences than the straight Coleman Hawkins-to-John Coltrane improv ethos which Anderson followed. For instance on “Down n’ the Delta”, a performance that seems inspired by Rahsaan Roland Kirk, he blows both alto an tenor saxophone simultaneously and once the theme is stated goes into an R&B-tinged version of “When The Saints Go Marching In.” As Dawkins’ lines squeak through the narrative, stop-time and staccato, Drake slams a bouncing shuffle beat and Bankhead slaps his bass strings hard. “Jah Music,” which mixes Reggae-styled sways with that of a Jazz ballad, is kept steady by Drake’s duple beats, cow-bell whacks and hearty bounces. At the same time, as fluid in his part as if he was manipulating a bass guitar, Bankhead moves the chromatic line forward. Playing soprano, Dawkins’ initial narrowed split tomes moves through shrill whistles and climaxes with double and triple tonguing, matched with the drummer’s rim shots and rolls.

As masterful with a press roll as Art Blakey, Drake’s facility with it plus paradiddles and wood block accents are given prime exposure on “Sweet 22nd Street (The Velvet Lounge)”. With Dawkins expressing himself in emotional tenor saxophone slurs and repeated melody fragments, the piece builds up to a double-time climax of percussion pops and pressurized glottal punctuation. Although the reedist is also capable of wild Aylerian screams as well as more intense lyricism on his horns, he seems to reserve his most impassioned soloing for the two tracks dedicated to Anderson. “Peace and Blessing (to Fred)” and “One For Fred”.

With the former track featuring Bankhead’s expressive cello lines harmonized with Drake’s frame drum rubs, as the drummer shakes small bells and gongs, the piece is more celebration than threnody. Reaching a crescendo with supple bent notes from the saxophone, the exposition skitters more quickly, than wraps up with a gentling finale from Dawkins on soprano saxophone. The extended “One For Fred”, in contrast features as many quarter tones, reed bites, overblowing and false register excursions from Dawkins’ tenor saxophone as Anderson himself would bring to an impassioned solo. With the percussionist’s pounding driving him ever forward, the saxophonist moves through multiphonics and modular honks plus guttural snarls before climaxing with repeated tremolo phrases. Even so this bravura display is followed every step of the way by quick bounces from Drake.

Without being maudlin or sentimental the strength of the playing and (instant) composing of Dawkins, Drake and Bankhead is as fitting a memorial to Anderson as he and his club’s many customers should rightly expect.

--Ken Waxman

Track List: CD1: 1. Astral Projection 2. Sweet 22nd Street (The Velvet Lounge) 3. You Just Cross My Mind 4. The Rumble 5. Peace and Blessing (to Fred) 6. Down n’ the Delta CD2: 1. Jah Music 2. Galaxies Beyond 3. Woman of Darfur 4. Waltz of Passion 5. Moi Tre Gran Garcon 6. One For Fred

Personnel: Ernest Dawkins (soprano, alto and tenor saxophones and percussion); Harrison Bankhead (bass and cello) and Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum

July 26, 2012

Indigo Trio/Michel Edelin

The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest
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Nicole Mitchell

Awakening

Delmark DE-599

By Ken Waxman

Even after nearly 60 years as a double for woodwind players – and first choice for a select few – the flute can’t shake off its reputation as a secondary jazz axe. But Nicole Mitchell, who recently moved from Chicago to the West Coast, is doing her best to overcome this stigma. Avoiding the transverse tube’s frillier association, she also stays away from atonal experiments. As these CDs demonstrate, impressive improvisations are created even as the flute retains its lyrical characteristics.

Each quartet disc, with a different front-line partner, but with most compositions by Mitchell, is distinct. Recorded in Strasbourg with Paris-based Michel Edelin the other flautist, The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest is formal and delicate. Awakening, from Chicago, adds guitarist Jeff Parker, whose affiliations include rock band Tortoise, for a more aggressive session. Bassist Harrison Bankhead, a regular in saxophonist Ernest Dawkins’ bands is on both discs. Hamid Drake, one of jazz’s busiest percussionists also meets The Ethiopian Princess, while solid AACMer Avreeayl Ra is the Awakening percussionist.

By blending Edelin’s flute and alto flute with Mitchell’s flute, alto flute and piccolo, their disc is reminiscent of a Sam Most-Herbie Mann face off. Meanwhile Bankhead’s pulsing coupled with Drake’s inventive slaps and rebounds pace the eight selections, allowing Mitchell and Edelin to extemporize distinct flute sequences in turn. Legato, “Inside the Earth” finds aviary wisps and whistling peeps from the flutists giving way to mellow pitches. “Wind Current” on the other hand balances low-intensity and low-pitched glissandi atop pedal-point bass lines and rim shots. “Call Back”, one of Edelin’s two compositions, has a stealthy, elongated theme framed by a martial beat from Drake. As the flutists solo in turn, one produces pitched chirps and the other evocative lowing. Eventually as glottal slurps, tongue stops and growls are added to the mix, the piece resolves itself capaciously with arpeggios from Bankhead, rat-tat-tats from Drake and mixed tongue pressures from Edelin and Mitchell.

Awakening’s precursor could be a sessions when a polite flautists like Moe Koffman improvised with an orderly guitarist like Ed Bickert. On the other hand when the session’s momentum augments on a track like “Momentum”, Parker’s linear work suggests Herb Ellis, with bluesy asides cozying up to the flautist’s staccato flutter tonguing. Contributing to the mood swings are the guitarist’s chiming chords and the bassist’s popping thumps or measured bow slides. Meanwhile, since Mitchell’s narrative skill also encompasses fortissimo whistles and gritty blowing, varied emotions are on tap throughout, from slow romanticism to moderated funkiness. The suite-like “Journey on a Thread” is probably the finest instance of her articulated and animated story-telling, as an innocent melody alternates with the flutist articulating a more staccato line. Irregularly vibrated breaths and mouth buzzes give the piece a time-stretching pattern, intensified by Parker’s circular comping and Bankhead’s string pulsing.

Flute fanciers may prefer The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest, while those seeking pronounced swing should gravitate to Awakening. What’s obvious on both is that nowhere does Mitchell – or Edelin – have to make any allowances for the flute’s supposed deficiencies as an instrument for profound improvisations.

Tracks: Ethiopian: Top Secret; Inside the Earth; Dérives; Wind Current; Call Back; The Ethiopian Princess Meets the Tantric Priest; Ambre Sunset; Return of the Sun

Personnel: Ethiopian: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Michel Edelin (flute and alto flute); Harrison Bankhead (bass and piano) and Hamid Drake( drums and frame drum)

Track Listing: Awakening: Curly Top; Journey on a Thread; Center of the Earth; Snowflakes; Momentum; More Than I Can Say; There; 8. F.O.C.; Awakening

Personnel: Awakening: Nicole Mitchell (flute); Jeff Parker (guitar); Harrison Bankhead (bass) and Avreeayl Ra (drums and percussion)

--For New York City Jazz Record June 2012

June 5, 2012

Festival Report:

dOek's 10th Anniversary
By Ken Waxman

Unexpectedly but appropriately, Sean Bergin tenor saxophonist and tour-guide-for-the-day, added an extra stop to an afternoon bus tour of selected jazz clubs during Amsterdam’s 10th anniversary dOeK festival April 21-22. In front of a construction site on a narrow street beside a canal, which from 1974-2005 been home to the Bimhuis, the South African-born Bergin passed out noise-makers and lead the participants in a brief fanfare celebrating ground zero for advanced Dutch sounds,

The salute was doubly significant. Not only was that location progenitor of the spacious, soft-seated, harbor-front location of the new Bimhuis in which the two-day festival took place, but long-time Amsterdam resident Bergin, who during the bus journey entertained with quirky songs and stories about the city’s musical history while playing saxophone, penny-whistle and ukulele, is a representative of the foreign improvisers who have contributed to the city’s musical gestalt over the years.

Organized as a non-profit foundation promoting improvisation in the Netherlands, dOek’s global reach was emphasized during the fest with concerts that featured American, German and Australian musicians playing alongside their Dutch counterparts.

One of the most significant was WoKaLi that melded the verbalized whinnies, mumbles and rapid lip motions of local trombonist Wolter Wierbos, with the crisp, heel-of-hand key palming of pianist Achim Kaufmann and the hyperactive, irregular rhythms produced by vibrating tambourines, crumbling foil and slapping hard objects on drum heads from Christian Lillinger, both from Berlin. A staccato climax was reached as Wierbos’ slurs turned to tongue-grinds as the drummer beat on the hi-hat with a stick, while press-rolling as Kaufmann’s cascades kept the theme cohesive.

Oddly there was no piano present during the set by The Gap, a sextet organized by dOeK founding member Cor Fuhler, who has relocated to Sydney. Usually a keyboardist, Fuhler played guitar instead and was backed by Germans Axel Dörner on slide-trumpet and Jan Roder on bass; another dOeK founder, who now live in Berlin, reedist Tobias Delius; plus two Aussies: percussionist Steve Heather and vibraphonist Dale Gorfinkel, whose kinetic sound and light sculptures were on display on another floor of the Bimhuis. A suite of Fuhler-composed, airy, connected miniatures the pieces depended as much on Gorfinkel’s four-mallet rubs and slides on the metal bars and Heather’s soft, sensitive brush work. Ironically despite the Ur-modernist playing of Dörner, whose distanced breaths often seemed to leak back into his horn, the taunt voicing of vibes, guitar and Delius’ simple, flat-line clarinet could have been that of Lionel Hampton, Charlie Christian and Benny Goodman in the ’30s.

A more assertive bass-and-percussion team of dOeker, Amsterdam’s Wilbert de Joode and Chicago’s Hamid Drake demonstrated contemporary Dutch-American, with The Now quartet, with the front-line similarly divided between American flutist Nicole Mitchell and saxophonist Peter van Bergen from the Netherlands. That’s divided only in nationality, for the players are equally proficient in mixing multiphonics, minimalism and mellowness. Drake’s frame-drum rubs and occasional reggae backbeats didn’t prevent him from preserving a press-roll-and-rim-shot jazz pulse, while no matter how many bass face scratches or vibrating buzzes de Joode emphasized in solos, his sturdy walking was omnipresent. Meantime Mitchell matched lyrical glissandi with rougher piccolo tweets, while van Bergen moves between near New music spaciousness and mellow near-blues. Most notably cooperation is more notable as the flute, tenor saxophone and bass hold a single note between them as Drake decorates the background with hand drum pops.

A stirring Dutch-dOeK variant on another jazz style, the Tough Tenor tradition of the ‘40s and ‘50s was apparent at two funky, performance spaces during the afternoon club tour. At Kwikfiets, a combination café, art gallery and bicycle repair shop [!], reedist Ab Baars went mano-a-mano with Brazilian-born Yedo Gibson, backed by Finnish guitarist Mikael Szafirowski and drummer Gerri Jäger. Meanwhile at OT301, the former Netherlands Film Academy, now a club space with a bar and vegan restaurant, contrasting tenor saxophone stylists American John Dikeman, a dOeK member, and Delius were set off by Wierbos’ trombone.

Playing mostly Baars’ tunes, whose Dutch titles were humorously mispronounced by Gibson, the two tenors’ styles were distinctive even playing in lockstep. In steady rolling fashion the Brazilian’s snickering freak tomes encompassed reed bites and tongue stops, while the other played mid-range, excepting sporadic altissimo leaps. With Baars on clarinet, shaggy group harmonies approximated those of Tim Berne’s recent bands, especially when Szafirowski alternated finger slides and slashing distortion as the drummer produced unique rhythms, smacking wood blocks or bouncing bound straw on drum tops. Sticking to tradition, the band also alluded to Monk, Trane, “Lullaby of Birdland” and the blues.

So did Dikeman, Delius, and Wierbos. Sometimes in fact the trombonist’s cup-muted growls and Delius’ spacious vibrato sounded like they migrated from a foot-tapping Swing Era jam session even though the rhythm section included synthesizer and electric bass. Still the chief attraction was a rugged power engendered by the two tenor saxophonists. Playing originals ranging from approximation of gentle ballads to rocking bar-room stompers, the two, like Baars, Gibson and any number of other Amsterdam players maintained distinctive identities. In contrast to Delius’ studied classicism, Dikeman appeared comfortably wedded to an extension of Energy Music.

And if Energy Music was needed there was no better example than the sextet’s first tune, appropriately a kwela-influenced piece composed and recorded by Begin a few years ago. A go-for-broke workout, the dynamic performance combined a joyous African melody, staccato rhythm that were half Cape Town and half Chicago and snapping solos whose feeling for blues, jazz and the indefinable other went a long way towards defining the sounds that characterized the important anniversary of this festival.

--For New York City Jazz Record June 2012

June 5, 2012

Indigo Trio/Michel Edelin

The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest
RogueArt ROG-0034

The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest

RogueArt ROG-0034

Even after the nearly 60 years since it became an accepted double for many woodwind players – and instrument of choice for a select few – the flute still can’t shake off its reputation as a secondary axe for improvisation. But Nicole Mitchell, who recently moved from Chicago to the West Coast, is doing her best to overcome this stigma. Avoiding the transverse tube’s frillier association, in her writing and playing she also stays away from outright timbral experimentation. Nevertheless, as these CDs, recorded within two months of one another demonstrate, impressive improvisations can be created, even as the gold-plated stick retains its so-called lady-like characteristics.

Each quartet disc with a different front-line partner, but with most compositions by Mitchell, is tactfully different. Recorded in Strasbourg, with self-taught, Paris-based Michel Edelin the other flautist, The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest is more formal and delicate. Awakening, from Chicago, adds guitarist Jeff Parker, whose affiliations include electro experimenters like Tortoise and cornetist Rob Mazurek, for a more aggressive session. Mitchell, who has held high positions in the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (ACCM) organization, is backed by fellow AACMers on the two sets. Bassist Harrison Bankhead, who has been in the bands of among others, saxophonist Fred Anderson and trumpeter Malachi Thompson, is on both CDs. Arguably the scene’s busiest Free Jazz percussionist, Hamid Drake completes the Indigo Trio, while Avreeayl Ra, who has played with saxophonists Ari Brown and Ernest Dawkins is on the other disc. For his part, Edelin’s playing partners have ranged from saxophonists Steve Lehman to pianist Sophia Domancich.

United in merit, the personnel is the demarcation line between the two discs. With Edelin, who plays flute and alto flute here, one disc is reminiscent of a Sam Most-Herbie Mann or Buddy Collette-Bob Cooper face off, especially because Mitchell varies her approach playing alto flute and piccolo as well as the standard model. Considering the line-up and the unforced swing due to Parker clean, single-note execution, Awakening’s precursor could be those sets when flautists like Moe Koffman or Paul Horn improvised with orderly guitarists such as Jim Hall or Ed Bickert.

At the same time when the sonic momentum augments on a track like “Momentum”, Parker’s clean, yet linear work suggests Herb Ellis or Barney Kessel, with bluesy asides cozying up to the flautist’s staccato flutter tonguing. Since her work here also encompasses fortissimo whistles and gritty blowing, the four Chicagoans express different emotions from slow romanticism to moderato swing, with Ra’s rebounds plus bass drum emphasis, and Bankhead’s bow slides contributing to the mood.

Throughout, it appears that the quartet members have managed to reach a confluence where tight harmonies lack harsh distortion, but still manage to express emotions whether it’s through Parker’s chiming chords, Mitchell’s narrative linearism or the bassist’s popping thump. This cool detachment even extends into “More Than I Can Say”, composed for the flutist’s fiancé. Although legato flute lines repeatedly quiver with restrained passion, the counterpoint between her angled breath intervals and the guitarist’s resilient strums reference strength not subservience,

The suite-like “Journey on a Thread” is probably the finest instance of her articulated and animated story-telling, as an innocent melody alternates with flute glissandi which speak of a more staccato theme. Irregularly vibrated breaths and mouth buzzing mixed with instrument-produces air give the piece a time-stretching pattern advanced by Parker’s circular comping and Bankhead’s pulsing.

Bankhead’s pulsing is just as noticeable on the other CD, and he even plays some meditative piano on it which gives the dual flutists’ bouncing glissandi context. Overall though his rhythm work coupled with Drake’s inventive kit use manages to pace the eight selections while Mitchell and Edelin extemporize inventive flute sequences. On a tune such as “Inside the Earth” for example their playing has elements of atonality and lyricism at the same time with aviary sweeps and whistling peeps giving way to mellow pitches, while Bankhead walks and Drake cymbal slaps. “Wind Current” on the other hand balances low-intensity and low-pitched glissandi atop pedal-point bass lines and rim shots. Moving from rococo coloration of one another’s narratives to moderato harmonies, the dual flutists make common cause with the rhythm section.

“Call Back”, one of the French flautist’s two compositions, has a stealthy theme that is elongated as Drake sounds a martial beat. With the two flautists soloing in turn, one produces pitched chirps and the other evocative lowing. Eventually as glottal slurps, tongue stops and growls are added to the mix, the capacious climax involves arpeggios from Bankhead, rat-tat-tats from Drake and mixed tongue pressures from Edelin and Mitchell.

Flute fanciers should have a field day with The Ethiopian Princess meets the Tantric Priest, while those seeking more pronounced swing should gravitate to Awakening. What’s clear on both discs is that nowhere does Mitchell – not to mention Edelin – have to make any allowances for the flute’s supposed failings as an instrument for profound improvisations.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Ethiopian: 1. Top Secret 2. Inside the Earth 3. Dérives 4. Wind Current 5. Call Back 6. The Ethiopian Princess Meets the Tantric Priest 7. Ambre Sunset 8. Return of the Sun

Personnel: Ethiopian: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Michel Edelin (flute and alto flute); Harrison Bankhead (bass and piano) and Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum)

Track Listing: Awakening: 1. Curly Top 2. Journey on a Thread 3. Center of the Earth 4. Snowflakes 5. Momentum 6. More Than I Can Say 7. There" 8. F.O.C. 9. Awakening

Personnel: Awakening: Nicole Mitchell (flute); Jeff Parker (guitar); Harrison Bankhead (bass) and Avreeayl Ra (drums and percussion)

February 20, 2012

Mihály Dresch, Lafayette Gilchrist, Mátyás Szandai, Hamid Drake

Sharing the Shed
BMC Records BMC CD 174

Budapest and Baltimore may have more in common than most realize – at least when it comes to improvised music. That`s the message communicated by this compelling CD, featuring Hungary’s most accomplished saxophone stylist and a Maryland based Funk-Jazz pianist. Woodshedding originals and one standard, the high energy front men are aided by a veteran Chicago drummer on call throughout the world and one of the Danube-bisected city`s most dependable bassists.

Hungarian Mihály Dresch, who plays tenor and soprano saxophones plus a fuhunna recorder he developed himself, epitomizes how attributes from Magyar folk heritage can be worked into a modern Jazz concept. He does this both with his own band, often featuring trumpeter/fiddler Ferenc Kovacs, as well as with visitors such as fellow tenor man Archie Shepp. Young pianist Lafayette Gilchrist, the Washington-born, Baltimore-based member of the Black Saint Quartet, headed by another tenor star, David Murray, brings elements of D.C. Go-Go, old school Soul, hard Funk and progressive Hip-hop into his playing here. Meanwhile the quartet’s rhythm section is made up of bassist Mátyás Szandai, part of Dresch’s working group as well as other Hungarian combos; and Hamid Drake who is as likely to show up in Europe backing numerous first-class players as doing likewise on his own Windy City turf.

Distinctive but similar brawny approaches to performance by the principals can be noted by comparing the Gilchrist composed “All In”, with Dresch’s tune, “Old House Ballad”. The latter is a bit of a misnomer since Drake’s accompaniment encompasses stop-time drags, rattles and martial stomps. When the pianist concentrates on feathery key plinks, the composer’s double-tongued overblowing with a thick reed are almost rock-solid in expression. Similarly murky flute or recorder vibrations take up a large portion of “All In”. But on it they’re expressed in the context of rocking piano rhythms. Gilchrist’s low-boil glissandi and harmonized bluesy cadenzas and Drake’s bass drum accents maintain the finger-snapping beat until the final turnaround. Even the coda is divided between heavily pummeled piano keys and a set of flute cadenzas.

Reductionist, since only Drake on hand drum and Dresch on recorder participate, “Night Spirit” also lives up to its title. Together the percussionist’s double-dutch palm whumps and resonations mated with the reedist’s staccato multiphonics suggest a sound picture of two Magyar warriors in repose on the plains expressing themselves through folk melodies.

More attuned to Jazz sensibilities is the pianist’s “Dried Goods” which begins with harpsichord-like plinks from Gilchrist and introductory rim shots from Drake. These set up Dresch’s elaboration of the theme with intense slurs, side-slipping exaggeration and bent notes. Before the pianist’s tremolo variations recap the head, Szandai’s sustained bass string slaps which sluice upwards and downwards in tandem with Drake’s flams, maintain the pace without bringing undue attention to themselves.

This type of musical modesty may be the key to the whole collaborative session. No matter how apocryphally flamboyant Hungarians or Americans may be elsewhere, in this situation they combine their talents selflessly to get the job done.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Shift One 2. Delicate Dancer 3. Down the Street 4. Waves 5. Dried Goods 6. Naive 7. All In 8. Old House Ballad 9. The Night has a Thousand Eyes 10. Night Spirit

Personnel: Mihály Dresch (tenor and soprano saxophones and fuhunna recorder); Lafayette Gilchrist (piano); Mátyás Szandai (bass) and Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum)

July 2, 2011

FMP In Rückblick

In Retrospect 1969-2010
FMP CD 137 - FMP CD 148

Something in the Air: FMP`s 40th Anniversary

By Ken Waxman

Throughout jazz history, independent labels have typified sounds of the time. In the Swing era it was Commodore; Modern jazz was prominent on Blue Note and Prestige; and with Improvised Music, FMP is one of the longest lasting imprints. Celebrating its 40th anniversary, the Berlin-based label has given listeners a spectacular birthday present with FMP In Rückblick – In Retrospect 1969-2010,12 [!] CDs representing FMP’s past and future – the oldest from 1975, the newest, by American cellist Tristan Honsinger and German guitarist Olaf Rupp from 2010, half previously unissued – plus an LP-sized, 218-page book, lavishly illustrated with contemporary photographs, posters, album covers and a discography.

FMP’s musical scope was overwhelming. In this box, for instance, are discs by an early Pan-European ensemble, the Globe Unity Orchestra (GUO); solo sessions by Belgian pianist Fred Van Hove, German bassist Peter Kowald and others; outstanding combo dates including British saxophonist Evan Parker and Swiss pianist Irène Schweizer; and instances of minimalism from German string-player Hans Reichel and Austrian trombonist Radu Malfatti. Ferocious German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann, who almost single-handedly formulated Free Music in Germany and helped create FMP, is represented on three CDs. No exercise in nostalgia, the book outlines in unsentimental details how the revolutionary climate of the late 1960s sustained the growth of tough, experimental, music modeled on American-influenced Free Jazz. FMP’s value was that by 1971 it was recording distinctively European Free Music, blending layers of contemporary notated and electro-acoustic music, Fluxus art ideas plus folk-based material onto the American base. Triumphs such as FMP’s documentation of American pianist Cecil Taylor and its wide dissemination of essential American, European and created-in-East-Germany discs are also noted.

Broadminded, FMP never asserted European musical superiority however. For example, Steve Lacy Solo 1975 & Quintett 1977 In Berlin CD 02 (FMP CD 138), is a reissue by Americans Lacy on soprano saxophone; alto saxophonist Steve Potts; bassist Kent Carter and drummer Oliver Johnson plus Swiss cellist Irène Aebi. The band’s super-fast harmonies plus the contrast between Potts staccato and linear style and Lacy’s bugle-like moderato blowing atop Carter and Johnson’s Freebop backbeat, demonstrate why the quintet was admired. Most of the CD consists of some of Lacy’s earliest solos, including The Duck. Characteristically that thrilling improvisation is built from a collection of kazoo-like reed bites, split-tone yelps, hissing and rasping growls and muffled mid-range retorts. Lacy defines free music.

Another way to mark the evolution of FMP and European Free Music is by following the thread from Schweizer/Carl/Moholo 1975/77 Messer und… CD 03 (FMP CD 139) to MANUELA+ Live In Berlin 1999 CD 10 (FMP CD 146). Almost 25 years later Rüdiger Carl’s mercurial and atonal saxophone squeals sprayed out in never-ending blasts alongside Louis Moholo’s paced drumming and Schweizer’s percussive pianism with a hint of Stride, has mutated into contradictory but equally aleatory inventions. Now Carl, in the company of Carlos Zingaro’s spiccato violin buzzes, Jin Hi Kim’s throbbing komungo strings, and Reichel’s thumping daxophone rhythms layer the interlude with distinctive colors from his new instruments of choice – light-toned clarinet and pumping accordion glissandi. Without lessening his commitment to improvised sounds the former leather-lunged saxman, now operates in a more placid area, as his quivering intonation toughens the other strings’ tremolo jetes while the daxophone’s strident whines provide comic relief.

Demarcation of a unique style – which suggested a different path than all-out Free Jazz characterized by discs such as Baden-Baden ’75 CD 01 (FMP CD 137), with five previously unissued performances by the 16-piece GUO providing plenty of space for genre-defining reed-splintering solos from Parker and Brötzmann; the soaring triplets of trumpeter Manfred Schoof; plus high-energy piano dynamics from GU leader Alexander von Schlippenbach – was germinated by another of this collection’s reissued CDs. In 1977, trombonist Malfatti’s and guitarist Stephan Wittwer’s UND? ... plus CD 06 (FMP CD 142) conclusively proved that interactive pointillism and polyphony as reductionist chamber improv was another option. Sometimes this strategy involves Wittwer’s kinetic rasgueado seemingly filling all the sonic space, before Malfatti’s puffs, mouthpiece osculation or leaking discordant tones move to the forefront. Despite this, connections are always linear with tracks like Cotpotok (still valid) exhibiting a broken octave coda of koto-like picks from the guitarist plus lower-case slurs and growls from the brass man.

Underlining the sparks he still generates and his importance to FMP, as player, designer and talent scout – the book’s first and final images are of Brötzmann in quartet formation and in frantic performance with Taylor. Similarly besides his GUO affiliation, two other CDs demonstrate the saxophonist’s prowess. Close Up/Die Like A Dog 1994 CD 08 (FMP CD 144), is a hitherto unreleased concert date with one of his most powerful formations: Japanese trumpeter and electronics manipulator Toshinori Kondo, Americans William Parker on bass and Hamid Drake on drums and tablas, plus Brötzmann playing saxophones, tarogato and clarinets; and Wolke in Hosen/Brötzmann Solo 1976 CD 05 (FMP CD 141), the reedist’s first solo disc. On it he shows the breath of his skills, from surprisingly mellow, yet atonally-tinged alto saxophone vibrations on Two Birds is a Feather to the elongated and contrasting contralto and altissimo obbligatos on Piece for Two Clarinets; to how he uses tuba-like blasts and slurs plus heavy flutter tonguing to turn Humpty Dumpty, a showcase for his bass sax, into a jaunty march. Characteristically Close Up demonstrates not only high-quality Free Music, but also other musical currents welcomed by FMP. On the 46-minute Close Up/Man, Kondo’s flutter tongued runs and plunger tones are further fragmented by electronic wave forms, while Drake’s rhythmic tabla pulses suggest World Music. Meantime Brötzmann progressively masticates and splinters dissident ostinatos from tenor saxophone or bass clarinet, using the nephritic friction for call-and-response with the trumpeter’s rubato strategies, and sometimes stopping for speedy spicatto friction from Parker, all backed by the percussionist’s ruffs and pops.

Brötzmann is still going strong 16 years later, as are many improvisers recorded by FMP from its beginning. Nonetheless, as Stretto CD 12 (FMP CD 148) demonstrates, new music still comes from the label. Spiced with aviary field recordings, the eight tracks blend the timbres from cellist Honsinger’s sardonic verbal humor, col legno smacks or enhanced legato quivers with Rupp’s chromatic frails plus spidery finger picking. With new generations to record, perhaps FMP can last for another 40 years.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 16 #7

April 8, 2011

Tell No Lies Claim No Easy Victories

Edited by Phillipp Schmickl
Impro 2000

ECM 40th Anniversary Catalogue

Edited by Kenny Inaoka

Tokyo Kirarasha

As globalization intensifies, American-birthed popular music forms – most especially Jazz and Improvised Music – have evolved far beyond their initial audiences, confirming one of the hoariest of clichés, that music is a universal language. Creative music of many stripes has for many years been often treated more seriously in Europe and Asia than in North America. Consequently to be truly informed about the breadth of musical sounds it helps to understand other languages besides English. That’s the challenge related to the valuable books here. Neither is published primarily in English, but both can serve as resources for followers of Jazz and Improvised Music, no matter their native tongues.

Tell No Lies Claim No Easy Victories is a celebration of the annual Konfrontationen festival which has taken place in Nickelsdorf, Austria near Vienna since 1979. Contributions to the volume in German, English and French are more a compendium of thoughts about improvisation and musical influences than a potted history of the festival. On the other hand, published in Japanese and English, the ECM 40th Anniversary Catalogue presents complete discographical information about every release put out by the influential German-based label from its first issue in 1969 to December 2009. Putting aside the language issue for the moment, each volume is profusely illustrated with beautifully realized black-and-white and color photographs.

As attractively presented as any catalogue can be, the ECM volume is published by a firm that has put out similar volumes on Blue Note records. Included is an entire section of six-to-the-page full-color photos of every ECM album cover. The remaining pages are devoted to detailed descriptions of every ECM and JAPO CD, LP and DVD then extant with cover pictures, personnel, recording dates and song titles included. Reviews of every disc by 11 commentators – in Japanese –are provided as well

While those who can’t read Japanese may miss out on the commentary, perusing the catalogue reveals many unexpected facets of Manfred Eicher’s label. His supervision and the engineering of Jan Erik Kongshaug may have created the sonically pristine, often imitated, though sometimes near-lifeless ECM sound; but ECM’s characteristic album cover art often masked unexpected efforts.

The catalogue does picture such ECM classics as Keith Jarrett’s Facing You (ECM 1017), The Sun Bear Concerts (ECM 1100) and Standards Vol. 1 (ECM 1255); Pat Metheny’s American Garage (ECM 1155), As Falls Wichita ... (ECM 1190), and Offramp (ECM 1216); plus Gary Burton & Chick Corea’s Crystal Silence (ECM 1024) and Jan Garbarek and The Hillard Ensemble’s Mmemosyne (ECM 1700/01 NS); but also noted are other efforts which many would think don’t fit the ECM mould.

Did you know, for instance that German saxophonist Alfred Harth was featured on the second ECM release, Just Music (ECM 1002) and saxophonist Evan Parker and guitarist Derek Bailey are on the fifth The Music Improvisation Company (ECM 1005)? While it may have seemed at times that the label was churning out endless series of guitar and/or piano dominated Chamber Jazz sessions, the ECM net has always stretched further. The label was recording a variant of World Music as early as guitarist Egberto Giasmonti Dança Das Cabeças (ECM 1089) in 1976; and first dabbled in so-called New music in 1978 with Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians (ECM 1129).

Furthermore ECM did more than provide a home for such accepted Jazz standard bearers as the Art Ensemble of Chicago, trumpeters Kenny Wheeler and Enrico Rava, saxophonists Charles Lloyd and John Surman, drummer Jack DeJohnette and pianist Paul Bley, to cite a few examples. Over the years it gave and continues to give exposure to quirkier, underappreciated or far-seeking avant-Jazz standard bearers from Europe or North America such as reedists Louis Sclavis, Gianluigi Trovesi, Hal Russell and Joe Maneri, trumpeter Tomas Stanko, pianist Marilyn Crispell, drummers Pierre Favre and Edward Versala, and Parker’s Electro-Acoustic Ensemble.

In contrast, Austria’s Nickelsdorf Konfrontationen has always been about presenting newer forms of Improvised Music. And the sometimes makeshift sonic conditions under which festival curator Hans Falb presents concerts may cause Eicher and Kongshaug a variant of apoplexy. Tell No Lies Claim No Easy Victories is a reflection of the festival itself. Collated like a scrap book, the text is broken up with posed, portrait and performance, contemporary and historical photographs of musicians who have appeared at Nickelsdorf over the years. Thus you can see what trombonist George Lewis looked like when he played the festival in 1985 or clarinetist John Carter’s jeans and white tie ensemble from 1983. At the same time there are portrait photos of saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell on the cover and bassist Joëlle Léandre inside.

This haphazard arrangement continues throughout the volume. Reminiscences of Nickelsdorf festivals past by the likes of electronics manipulator Christof Kurzmann, drummer Hamid Drake and Mitchell share space with such articles as an extensive discussion about improvisation with Léandre and Schmickl – printed in both French and German –and short biographical studies of brass man Clifford Thornton by his friend saxophonist Joe McPhee and DY Ngoy. Also published in both French and German is Alexandre Pierrepont’s extensive, if somewhat disjointed, musings on the history and influences of Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (ACCM); while the verbatim dialogue between Falb and Evan Parker while unearthing some interesting gems about improvised music in Europe, reads more like the late-night ramblings of a couple of old friends than anything approaching rigorous scholarship.

Sometimes the choice of language puzzles as well. It’s understandable that the articles by drummer Paul Lovens and pianist Georg Graewe should be in German, their native tongue. But why is an article on the Romanian festival Jazz and More – strongly inspired by the Konfrontationen – in English, whereas the piece that precedes it, dealing with improvised music in Romania is only in German?

Despite these shortcomings, both of these volumes would make valuable if unusual additions to the book shelves of anyone interested in Improvised Music. And if a follower of this music can reads any one or more of the languages used in the books besides English, there are additional bonuses.

--Ken Waxman

March 14, 2011

Frank Gratkowski-Hamid Drake

Frank Gratkowski & Hamid Drake
Valid Records VR-1014

Gratkowski/Nabatov/Schmickler

Deployment

Leo Records CD LR 565

Ever-widening his circle of playing partners and the musical textures involved, German saxophonist and clarinetist Frank Gratkowski has the past decade established himself as a notable genre-jumper. Overall, he’s as apt to lend his talents to the pseudo-classical Zeitkratzer ensemble as he is playing Free Improv with trumpeter Herb Robertson, to take one partner, or dabbling in live electronics with the likes of keyboardist Chris Brown.

Exposing complementary but opposed sides of his playing, are these two discs. The atmospheric Deployment matches him with Russian-American Simon Nabatov, who uses a prepared piano and German laptopist Marcus Schmickler in a Köln session. Meanwhile the other CD preserves freeform improvisations captured in New Orleans three months previously in the company of Chicago drummer Hamid Drake.

Probably the most-recorded American percussionist in advanced improv, percussionist Drake has had one-on-one meetings with saxophonists as varied as Chicago’s Fred Anderson and Wuppertal’s Peter Brötzmann. On the other hand, while Schmickler is best-known as a member of the laptop ensemble Mimeo or for duo work in with analog synth player Thomas Lehn, some of the mercurial Nabatov’s ensembles have featured Gratkowski,

Although the trio CD purports to have eight tracks, the entire performance is more of a piece, notwithstanding the first four tracks which together make up the “Allocation” suite. Cohesive and connective, Schmickler’s triggered crackles and chirps are often repeated in such a way that they form both ostinatos and obtruding thematic material. On “Instance”, for instance, as the computer’s peeping sequences oscillate, the pianist alternates romantic chording and percussive clanking as the saxophonist reed bites and tongue stops, eventually arriving at split tone barnyard cackles and nasally blocked honks. Although it may be that some of the sounds may have been captured and played back in real time by Schmickler’s computer. The succeeding and concluding “Node” does more than concentrate on single vibrations, even though Nabatov’s strident, high-frequency syncopation is in constant collision with Gratkowski’s wide vibrato and aviary twitters. \to bypass this, triple counterpoint evolves, encompassing echoing keyboard picks and crashing chords, key percussion and flat-line air from the reedist plus splatters and drones from the computer. Eventually the three reach a crescendo on “Allocation 4”. As Schmickler’s machine emphasize signal delays and electric-shaver-like buzzing, Nabatov’s tinkling portamento runs and sympathetic internal string stopping together line up in contrapuntal collusion with Gratkowski’s thick bass clarinet puffs and percussive snorts.

If tongue gymnastics and key percussion are the order of the day in Köln, then Gratkowski has to call on even more spectacular reed stratagems when dealing with Drake. Going mano-a-mano in the purported cradle of Jazz, tentative heads quickly give way to backbeat-driven improvisations. Drake’s multi-faceted percussion command is such that he can create a groove without the resulting beats eschewing cerebral experimentation.

For instance on “Square Root of Distraction”, bass drum thumps, clanks and clips on higher-pitched drums and simple cymbal responses reverberate as Gratkowski on clarinet cross blows whispering trills. Soon the reedist is alternating among coloratura and chalumeau, a variety of tongue slaps plus sudden jagged leaps southward. All this is outlined in broken chord fashion alongside Drake’s rasping drum tops, bell-pinging and maracas-driven rhythms. Ultimately the two meld drum stick bounces and discordant peeps plus buzzes and dog-whistle squeals that dissolve following a conclusive press roll from the drummer.

Earlier and later interactions find Drake’s innate swing nudging Gratkowski away from distracted whimpers and trills and towards a northern German version of bar-walking R&B, complete with stuttering squeaks and vaulting cries. Once the contrapuntal groundwork is established the two continue in similar fashion to the concluding “Varm Somehow”. First narrowly vibrating a near-rococo clarinet fantasia, the reedist turns to super-fast spiccato tongue slaps as Drake moves among rim shots, clattering cymbals and drags. A concluding intermezzo finds Gratkowski back on alto for some strident flutter tonguing. Drake’s nerve beats and cross-sticking guide the piece to a conclusive diminuendo.

Whether live or in the studio, just as long as Gratkowski is matched with appropriate playing partner(s), his multi-faceted skills can be used to easily produce fine music.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Deployment: 1. Allocation 1 2. Allocation 2 3. Allocation 3 4. Allocation 4 5. Artifact 6. Cluster 7. Instance 8. Node

Personnel: Deployment: Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet); Simon Nabatov (piano) and Marcus Schmickler (computer)

Track Listing: Valid: 1. Brother G’s Walk 2. Square Root of Distraction 3. Well, It’s Complicated 4. Varm Somehow

Personnel: Valid: Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet) and Hamid Drake (drums and percussion)

November 11, 2010

Guelph Jazz Festival

Guelph, Ontario
September 9 - 13, 2009

Always populist, the annual Guelph Jazz Festival extended its support of outdoor improvisation plus interaction between Third and First World musicians in its 16th edition, without lessening its commitment to Free Music. Much of the outstanding music-making came from the later however, with American pianist Marilyn Crispell one standout.

Featured in American, European and Canadian group settings, Crispell’s playing was powerful and outer-directed at the River Run Centre concert hall, in a trio with two AACM stalwarts, seemingly ageless tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson and colorful percussionist Hamid Drake, whose rhythmic conception is comfortable in any context. Anderson often quivered or vibrated reflective lines that were paralleled with linear arpeggios or kinetic pedal-pushed frequencies by Crispell. Meantime Drake’s palm or stick movement conveyed all the rhythm. Climax was a version of Muñoz’s “Fatherhood”, built on ecclesiastical chording from the pianist, ruffs and rebounds from Drake and gospel-like preaching from Anderson.

Only one member of the Stone Quartet is European – French bassist Joëlle Léandre. Yet when she and the Yanks – trumpeter Roy Campbell, violist Mat Maneri and Crispell – intersected with limpid, sophisticated and intuitive improvising in the sanctuary of St. George’s church, the outcome related more to Continental sounds than American Free Jazz. Subtly phrasing, Campbell at points appeared to be breathing in notes rather than expelling them. Hand-muting asides were another favorite strategy, clutching a tone until it dissolved. Crispell rumbled or spun out connective chords, decorating the improvisations. Maneri shredded fiddle notes in a deadpan fashion, equally honoring Paganini and Stuff Smith. Léandre sometime bowed with excruciatingly heavy motions as if physically pulling the notes from the bass, and other times sliced, diced and rubbed timbres from the instrument while yodeling in a pseudo-operatic soprano. Adapting to the moment she emphasized her resounding pizzicato pulse.

At the River Run the next night, Crispell was featured in Ottawa bassist John Geggie’s trio with Toronto drummer Nick Fraser. Without perpetuating Canadian stereotypes, Geggie’s compositions – and the affiliated improvisations – were more cerebral and studied than those from American bands. Yet there was enough sense of space and structure to separate them from European conceptions. The bassist confined himself to thumping tone-bonding or resonating picking, leaving theme statements to the pianist’s key patterning and downshifting runs. Fraser’s inventions included irregular clip-clopping and the suggestion of bell-pealing on the Gregorian chant-based “Credo”.

Canada’s other solitude was represented by a rip-snorting performance at St. George’s church hall by Jean Derome et les Dangereux Zhoms + 7. With both extended performances post-modern pastiches, individual talents of the 12 musicians gave the Montreal-based reedist/composer scope to express his heraldic, heroic ideas. As Martin Tétreault’s pressurized turntable drone created a crackling ostinato and Joane Hétu’s moist murmurs, hiccups and yodels verbal commentary, the pieces mixed rock beats from the electrified rhythm section; legato pacing from the violinist and violist; and jazz-inflected jabs from pianist Guillaume Dostaler, gutbucket blows from trombonist Tom Walsh and expressive triplets from trumpeter Gordon Allen.

Equally flamboyant days later at the River Run Centre, was World Saxophone Quartet plays Hendrix Experience. Resplendent in sharp suits, the four reedists – David Murray, Tony Kofi., James Carter and Hamiet Bluiett – were backed by Lee Pearson’s showy drumming and the electric bass of Jamaaladeen Tacuma. Crowd-pleasing when Person played with his sticks behind his back, while balancing another stick on his head, and when Murray or Carter ripped off a series of screaming vamps while body-swaying across the stage, Southern Soul riffs mixed with Free Jazz-extended techniques were more obvious than any direct link to Jimi Hendrix. “Hey Joe” was announced and a snatch of “Fire” heard, but the pumped drum backbeat and finger-popping bass work alluded to Funk not Fusion. Off to one side, Bluiett was most notable when he eschewed baritone sax snorts for a spidery, tremolo clarinet solo.

As self-effacing as others were flamboyant, Léandre’s solo performance Saturday afternoon at the Guelph Youth Music ignored the bass’s percussiveness to concentrate on the instrument’s other qualities. Performing on a bare stage, at one point Léandre drew an imaginary line on the floor with her bow, then proceeded to rub arco timbres from different parts of the bass: its back, belly and bridge, as well as the strings. Clipping and clapping the strings as well as spanking the wood and whisking the bow through the air, she encouraged sounds with body English. Creating distinctive multiphonics, she spiced her improvisations with bel-canto shrieks and onomatopoeia that sibilantly deconstructed the textures of certain phrases.

Solo expression was also the leitmotif later that same afternoon for Acoustic Orienteering, the most grandiose of the festival’s outdoor installations. A “cartographic composition” by Scott Thomson for 15 freely improvising musicians, the 45-minute piece featured performers circumnavigating downtown Guelph as they played. Audience members were given maps so they could follow particular musicians or choose a place to stay and let the players pass them. While acoustics in certain areas aided the expression of Paul Dutton’s sound-singing or the fluttering ripples from Jean Martin’s trumophone, the only provision made for musical interaction seemed to be serendipity. If a listener stayed in one place, it meant that a musician hovered into view, played a coupe of notes then moved on.

Interactivity was on display in profusion at Mitchell Hall later that night, when veteran Ethiopian tenor saxophonist Getatchew Mekuria and dancer Melaku Belay performed with Dutch Punk-Jazz outfit The Ex . Perform is the operative word, since in short pants and Doc Martens, Ex guitarists Andy Moor and Terrie Hessels skittered and slid over the stage as they unleashed feedback torrents and frenzied riffs; trumpeter Arnold De Boer emphasized with spastic movements the lyrics he shouted; while Belay wiggled and shifted with Jell-O-like undulations, sometimes on his feet, yet parallel to the floor, and other times upright, performing choreography half-way between the Moon Walk and the Saint Vitus’ Dance. Drummer Kat Bornefeld pounded away as well as contributing one echoing vocal in Amharic

As for Mekuria, who at one point topped his flowing white robes and Ethiopian flag color sash with an embroidered hat and cape, he moved regally across the stage playing with wide vibrato a decidedly pre-modern style that recalled Swing saxophonists like Ben Webster. Yet his solos fit in with the cacophonous electronic pulse that shuddered almost visually, as well as reed counterpoint that encompassed alto saxophonist Brodie West’s split tones plus clarinetist Xavier Charles’ squeaks and squiggles.

A similar cultural blending had been attempted earlier that night at the River Run Centre never achieved the same reckless exuberance. Toronto’s Woodchoppers Association and two Malian musicians created an interaction whose sum was less than its parts. Seemingly most comfortable singing gentle folk songs, the Malians adopted a simplified World Music style with the Choppers. Wearing matching white outfits the vamping Choppers aimed for the greasy Funk the WSQ would play in lieu of Fusion, but came across as tentative improvisers.

Now a robust teenager, the Guelph Jazz Festival appears intent on exploring new sounds and fusions. With its Free Music orientation solidified, experimenting this way should be a productive path to follow.

-- Ken Waxman

-- For MusicWorks Issue #106

March 8, 2010

Mike Reed’s People, Places & Things

About Us
482 Music 482-1068

Viktor Tóth

Tartim

Budapest Music Center Records BMC CD 150

Adding special guests to an already existing ensemble can often be a shortcut to confusion. Either the news players don’t mesh with the others or the group loses its individuality and become the backing band to the guests. Leaders of the ensembles on these CDs avoid both drawbacks, yet each does so in a fashion that’s as different as their respective backgrounds.

Chicago drummer Mike Reed, who gigs with everyone from cornetist Rob Mazurek to flautist Nicole Mitchell, also produces contemporary improv concerts in the city and is vice-chairman of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians. Yet his band People, Places & Things – filled out by alto saxophonist Greg Ward, tenor saxophonist Tim Haldeman and bassist Jason Roebke – is organized to play original material honoring advanced Chicago sounds from 1954-1960. That’s homage not fealty; there’s no overt imitation here. In addition, the guests – trombonist Jeb Bishop, tenor saxophonist David Boykins and guitarist Jeff Parker – play on one track each to further orient the music towards contemporary improv.

Alto saxophonist Viktor Tóth’s trio is differently composed. Although the saxophonist and bassist Mátyás Szandai are Budapest-based, the third member, master drummer Hamid Drake, is another Chicagoan. Meeting and playing together at a Hungarian festival, the three decided to collaborate. They work together as frequently as Drake – who may be improvised music’s busiest percussionist – can extricate himself from other commitments. As a unit, the interaction is intuitive enough so that Drake’s musical roots in Evanston, Ill. seem almost congruent to Tóth’s background in Kiskunhalas and Szandai’s in Balassagyarmat.

Trumpeter and violinist Ferenc Kovács amplifies the interaction on the seven tracks on which he plays, since he has worked with Szandai in many circumstances. So has tenor saxophonist Mihály Dresch, who joins the others for four collective improvisations. Violist Ádám Jávorka and drummer György Jeszenszky – who probably splits the percussion duties with Drake on those tracks – are similarly supportive.

Throughout both the alto saxophonist and bassist demonstrate the skill which likely turned Drake’s head. Someone who favors a wide-bore attack with full-flavored edges and double tonguing, Tóth is a proto-typical FreeBopper who prefers harsh interplay and spikiness. You can hear that when he trades fours with Drake on “Bringing Light Towards Me” following a slinky exposition. As for Szandai, his steady, pumping or walking bass line locks in with Drake’s output, whether the American is using rim shots or hand slapping his drums.

Kovács, who is able to hold his own in any circumstances – and on either of his instruments –, contributes bent note brassiness and tongue curves in his trumpet solos. On “Falling Down in Fancy Clothes” for instance, the moderato, sliding theme benefits from his rubato intertwining with Tóth, so that the timbres include rococo coloration, following the saxophonist’s satisfaction at shoving as many notes into his solo as he can.

As a septet though, while the band sound is obviously fuller, the front-line harmonies are equivalently thicker, barely thinned by quivering percussion stops. Unfortunately as well, as on “In the Sun-dried Summer”, when both Jávorka and Kovács play full-force fiddle, the Hungarian tendency towards syrupiness is a little too obvious.

Overall Tóth’s best work comes on “. In the New Morning of the River” and “Soaring in Autumn”, where his arched sax lines take on a buzzing, double-reed-like consistency. This inadvertent ney-like sound references the country’s Arabic as well as Magyar past. Otherwise the nagging suspicion remains that as good as Tóth’s work is, his style is still in the process of formation. If he can eventually distinctively mix his Hungarian and jazz backgrounds – as Kovács and Dresch often do impressively – he will have more than lived up to the promise exhibited here.

Someone who has finally realized his promise during the later part of this decade, Reed is evidently consolidating his position as a conceptualizer – as well as a versatile drummer – with sessions like About Us. Not only do some of the tracks swing in an updated Jazz Messengers style, but several of the melodies sound familiar, as if Reed, Ward and the other composers had tapped into a collective Windy City gestalt.

On the Reed-composed “Flat Companion” for instance, the piece moves outwards from Ward’s squeaky, squirrelly solo into snorting and smeary asides from Haldeman, who then picks up the theme and runs with it. As the ruffled double-and-triple tonguing call-and-response plays out, Roebke’s walking bass and Reed’s chiming cymbals and snares keep the pulse steady.

Despite a clashing and hocketing exposition, Ward’s own “V.S. #1” also suggests a familiar sounding riff, the origin of which can’t exactly be placed. No matter. As the drummer pops his cymbals and thumps his toms, extrusive and complicated rhythmic tones come from both sax men. Haldeman vibrates split tones at the top, while before the inevitable drum roll and recapitulation of the head, Ward exposes an a capella muted and flutter-tongued line. Meantime “Under the Influence of Lunar Objects” – again written by Reed – is another full-blown swinger, suspended on the drummer’s modernistic stomps and ruffs and with an intense vibrated theme that’s pulled very which way but never breaks. The drummer’s stop-time breaks divide the accompaniment enough to push the horns towards a lyrical head recapping.

As for the guests, Bishop’s and Boykins’ contributions are most noticeable. On his own “Big Stubby”, the trombonist uses a sequence of pitch-sliding Dixieland-styled counterpoint to frame his burnished, burry tone. As the canon-style arrangement moves up and down the scale, one reedman even sounds like he’s playing Classic Jazz-styled clarinet. At the finale, the melody is recapped, but faster and wilder than at the top.

Boykins’ distinctive gritty split-tones are all over “Big and Fine”. Double- and triple-tonguing, his solo is followed by high-pitched riffing from the altoist and cacophonous smears, emphasized cries and an intense vibrato by all the reeds. Eventually the tune speeds up to a slurring staccato finale.

Broadening his vision of People, Places & Things to include the input of other musicians, Reed has crafted a CD that celebrates the past in present day terminology. How he precedes next in his ongoing examination of Chicago music will be interesting to hear.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Tartim: 1. 13 lines 2. Bringing Light Towards Me 3. In Easiness of Steps 4. In the New Morning of the River 5. I’m Waiting for the Moment 6. Surrounded by Signs 7. Falling Down in Fancy Clothes 8. In a Clearing 9. Forgetting Past and Future 10. In the Sun-dried Summer* 11. Soaring in Autumn* 12. In Winter’s Palm* 13. In Spring Fields*

Personnel: Tartim: Ferenc Kovács (trumpet and violin [tracks 6-13]); Viktor Tóth (alto saxophone and flutes); Mihály Dresch (soprano saxophone and flutes)*; Ádám Jávorka (viola)*; Mátyás Szandai (bass); Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum) and György Jeszenszky (drums and percussion)*

Track Listing: About: 1. It's Enough 2. V.S. #1 3. About Us 4. Big and Fine* 5. The Next Time You Are Near 6. Big Stubby 7. Flat Companion 8. First Reading: Paul's Letter to the Ephesians 9. Under the Influence of Lunar Objects 10. Days Fly By (with Ruby)+

Personnel: About: Jeb Bishop (trombone)^; Greg Ward (alto saxophone); Tim Haldeman and David Boykin* (tenor saxophone); Jeff Parker (guitar)+; Jason Roebke (bass) and Mike Reed (drums)

January 11, 2010

Viktor Tóth

Tartim
Budapest Music Center Records BMC CD 150

Mike Reed’s People, Places & Things

About Us

482 Music 482-1068

Adding special guests to an already existing ensemble can often be a shortcut to confusion. Either the news players don’t mesh with the others or the group loses its individuality and become the backing band to the guests. Leaders of the ensembles on these CDs avoid both drawbacks, yet each does so in a fashion that’s as different as their respective backgrounds.

Chicago drummer Mike Reed, who gigs with everyone from cornetist Rob Mazurek to flautist Nicole Mitchell, also produces contemporary improv concerts in the city and is vice-chairman of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians. Yet his band People, Places & Things – filled out by alto saxophonist Greg Ward, tenor saxophonist Tim Haldeman and bassist Jason Roebke – is organized to play original material honoring advanced Chicago sounds from 1954-1960. That’s homage not fealty; there’s no overt imitation here. In addition, the guests – trombonist Jeb Bishop, tenor saxophonist David Boykins and guitarist Jeff Parker – play on one track each to further orient the music towards contemporary improv.

Alto saxophonist Viktor Tóth’s trio is differently composed. Although the saxophonist and bassist Mátyás Szandai are Budapest-based, the third member, master drummer Hamid Drake, is another Chicagoan. Meeting and playing together at a Hungarian festival, the three decided to collaborate. They work together as frequently as Drake – who may be improvised music’s busiest percussionist – can extricate himself from other commitments. As a unit, the interaction is intuitive enough so that Drake’s musical roots in Evanston, Ill. seem almost congruent to Tóth’s background in Kiskunhalas and Szandai’s in Balassagyarmat.

Trumpeter and violinist Ferenc Kovács amplifies the interaction on the seven tracks on which he plays, since he has worked with Szandai in many circumstances. So has tenor saxophonist Mihály Dresch, who joins the others for four collective improvisations. Violist Ádám Jávorka and drummer György Jeszenszky – who probably splits the percussion duties with Drake on those tracks – are similarly supportive.

Throughout both the alto saxophonist and bassist demonstrate the skill which likely turned Drake’s head. Someone who favors a wide-bore attack with full-flavored edges and double tonguing, Tóth is a proto-typical FreeBopper who prefers harsh interplay and spikiness. You can hear that when he trades fours with Drake on “Bringing Light Towards Me” following a slinky exposition. As for Szandai, his steady, pumping or walking bass line locks in with Drake’s output, whether the American is using rim shots or hand slapping his drums.

Kovács, who is able to hold his own in any circumstances – and on either of his instruments –, contributes bent note brassiness and tongue curves in his trumpet solos. On “Falling Down in Fancy Clothes” for instance, the moderato, sliding theme benefits from his rubato intertwining with Tóth, so that the timbres include rococo coloration, following the saxophonist’s satisfaction at shoving as many notes into his solo as he can.

As a septet though, while the band sound is obviously fuller, the front-line harmonies are equivalently thicker, barely thinned by quivering percussion stops. Unfortunately as well, as on “In the Sun-dried Summer”, when both Jávorka and Kovács play full-force fiddle, the Hungarian tendency towards syrupiness is a little too obvious.

Overall Tóth’s best work comes on “. In the New Morning of the River” and “Soaring in Autumn”, where his arched sax lines take on a buzzing, double-reed-like consistency. This inadvertent ney-like sound references the country’s Arabic as well as Magyar past. Otherwise the nagging suspicion remains that as good as Tóth’s work is, his style is still in the process of formation. If he can eventually distinctively mix his Hungarian and jazz backgrounds – as Kovács and Dresch often do impressively – he will have more than lived up to the promise exhibited here.

Someone who has finally realized his promise during the later part of this decade, Reed is evidently consolidating his position as a conceptualizer – as well as a versatile drummer – with sessions like About Us. Not only do some of the tracks swing in an updated Jazz Messengers style, but several of the melodies sound familiar, as if Reed, Ward and the other composers had tapped into a collective Windy City gestalt.

On the Reed-composed “Flat Companion” for instance, the piece moves outwards from Ward’s squeaky, squirrelly solo into snorting and smeary asides from Haldeman, who then picks up the theme and runs with it. As the ruffled double-and-triple tonguing call-and-response plays out, Roebke’s walking bass and Reed’s chiming cymbals and snares keep the pulse steady.

Despite a clashing and hocketing exposition, Ward’s own “V.S. #1” also suggests a familiar sounding riff, the origin of which can’t exactly be placed. No matter. As the drummer pops his cymbals and thumps his toms, extrusive and complicated rhythmic tones come from both sax men. Haldeman vibrates split tones at the top, while before the inevitable drum roll and recapitulation of the head, Ward exposes an a capella muted and flutter-tongued line. Meantime “Under the Influence of Lunar Objects” – again written by Reed – is another full-blown swinger, suspended on the drummer’s modernistic stomps and ruffs and with an intense vibrated theme that’s pulled very which way but never breaks. The drummer’s stop-time breaks divide the accompaniment enough to push the horns towards a lyrical head recapping.

As for the guests, Bishop’s and Boykins’ contributions are most noticeable. On his own “Big Stubby”, the trombonist uses a sequence of pitch-sliding Dixieland-styled counterpoint to frame his burnished, burry tone. As the canon-style arrangement moves up and down the scale, one reedman even sounds like he’s playing Classic Jazz-styled clarinet. At the finale, the melody is recapped, but faster and wilder than at the top.

Boykins’ distinctive gritty split-tones are all over “Big and Fine”. Double- and triple-tonguing, his solo is followed by high-pitched riffing from the altoist and cacophonous smears, emphasized cries and an intense vibrato by all the reeds. Eventually the tune speeds up to a slurring staccato finale.

Broadening his vision of People, Places & Things to include the input of other musicians, Reed has crafted a CD that celebrates the past in present day terminology. How he precedes next in his ongoing examination of Chicago music will be interesting to hear.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Tartim: 1. 13 lines 2. Bringing Light Towards Me 3. In Easiness of Steps 4. In the New Morning of the River 5. I’m Waiting for the Moment 6. Surrounded by Signs 7. Falling Down in Fancy Clothes 8. In a Clearing 9. Forgetting Past and Future 10. In the Sun-dried Summer* 11. Soaring in Autumn* 12. In Winter’s Palm* 13. In Spring Fields*

Personnel: Tartim: Ferenc Kovács (trumpet and violin [tracks 6-13]); Viktor Tóth (alto saxophone and flutes); Mihály Dresch (soprano saxophone and flutes)*; Ádám Jávorka (viola)*; Mátyás Szandai (bass); Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum) and György Jeszenszky (drums and percussion)*

Track Listing: About: 1. It's Enough 2. V.S. #1 3. About Us 4. Big and Fine* 5. The Next Time You Are Near 6. Big Stubby 7. Flat Companion 8. First Reading: Paul's Letter to the Ephesians 9. Under the Influence of Lunar Objects 10. Days Fly By (with Ruby)+

Personnel: About: Jeb Bishop (trombone)^; Greg Ward (alto saxophone); Tim Haldeman and David Boykin* (tenor saxophone); Jeff Parker (guitar)+; Jason Roebke (bass) and Mike Reed (drums)

January 11, 2010

Indigo Trio

Anaya
Rogueart Rog-0018

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth Strings

Renegades

Delmark DE 587

Having established herself as one of the primary flute voices in today’s improvised music, Chicago’s Nicole Mitchell has reached the point when she can record within six months of one another such dissimilar – yet equally engrossing – CDs. At the same time however, the sessions also pinpoint yet another evolution in the music as well as the challenge for the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) of which Mitchell is co-chair.

Anaya finds Mitchell as one-third of the co-op Indigo Trio. Her associates, cellist and bassist Harrison Bankhead, best-known for his work with AACM stalwart saxophonist Fred Anderson; and percussionist Hamid Drake – who seems to have played with more improvisers world-wide than just about any other drummer – are, like the flautist, second generation AACMers. The parameters of Anaya thus very much relate to the on-going jazz tradition.

Renegades on the other hand, featuring Mitchell’s Black Earth Strings, matches her with musicians who are either another generation younger than her, or like violist/violinist Renee Baker have an affiliation with non-improvised chamber music. Consequently this disc encompasses African, Native American, so-called classical and even folk-ballad influences – along with jazz and improvised music inflections – factoring in the collective experience of bassist and gimbre-player Josh Abrams, cellist Tomeka Reid and percussionist Shirazette Tinnin. Mitchell – who composed all 16 tracks on the CD – faces the challenge with Renegades of preventing this additional sonic input from overpowering the music’s jazz-based core. That, in the main she succeeds, is the result of allotting those other musical currents appropriate space alongside backbeat blues and jazz soloing.

For instance “Wade”, which takes its core melody from the spiritual “Wade in the Water”, is transformed during the performance. Spacious cello slices and marimba-styled resonation which introduce the initial melodious theme are soon superseded by walking bass lines, ruffs and flams from Tinnin, contrapuntal string extensions and wide-bore flute flutter-tonguing. Similarly, “Ice” extends from Abrams’ steady time-keeping, rasgueado cello accompaniment and the percussionist’s brush strokes and palm slaps to an interlude where Baker offers enough triple-stopping and floating spiccato to suggest Billy Bang. However the ethereal flute trills, and guitar-like picking from the cello are fulfilled by swelling string movements that could easy come from a chamber ensemble.

Three “Symbology” tunes explore atonality with broken-octave node exposure and jagged runs from the strings plus flute lipping and spitting. Yet other piece show just how delicate the multiple music interface is. Shrill contrapuntal flute bites push the instrument towards dizi tones; agitato string bowing take on erhu qualities; while the drummer could be playing a djembe. In contrast, the harmonized string voicing is definitely Europeanized, although a bit spikier.

“By My Own Grace” compounds the melody’s folk-song feel with string strumming and an uncomplicated double bass pattern. Darbuka-like percussion thumps, scrubbed string accompaniment and contrapuntal flute glissandi are what prevent the song from disappearing into wispiness, especially when Mitchell vocalizes a verse of female self-empowerment.

A cooperative vision in contrast, the Indigo Trio’s three powerful musical personalities equally divide the composing and playing chores on Anaya’s eight tracks. Still, the flautist’s “Wheatgrass” gives an idea of how they operate. As Bankhead’s bull fiddle walks with a steadying pace, Mitchell vamps piccolo-like intonation that hockets vibrating timbres and strident cheeps into animated buzzes. Meanwhile Drake uses bounces, rim shots and shuffle rhythms to speed the jazzy syncopation to staccatissimo, prodding Mitchell into andante, agitato timbres. After a recap of the theme, the final section features unison piccolo riffs in counterpoint with Bankhead’s and Drake’s rhythms.

A Bankhead piece such as “A Child’s Curiosity” is even more in the jazz tradition, with his quivering sul tasto thumps and Drake’s rebounds making it seems as if the kid is most inquisitive about the funk vamps that made the reputations of pianist Les McCann and saxophonist Eddie Harris – another Chicagoan – in the 1970s. Countering the drummer’s paradiddles and bounces as well as the bassist’s strong strokes is Mitchell, initially with the only child-like syncopation of the three. Eventually she introduces heavy-breathing staccato timbres and cascading lines which sluice from near inaudibility to concordance with Drake’s thick reverberations.

As for the drummer’s affiliated “Anaya” tunes – named for his granddaughter – the polyrhythms and subverted modes at points reach the World Music-jazz fusion that is also expressed on Renegades. Drags, flams and rolls from his toms and snares plus cymbal slaps and strokes take their place alongside sizzling flute tessitura mixed with glottal extensions. Meanwhile on “Anaya with the Sunlight”, Bankhead finger picks a cross tone so astonishing that he could be playing an oud or a resonator guitar rather than a bass or cello. Functional as well as flighty, this composition plus most of the others, holds to the concept of theme recapitulation for jazz-like reinforcement.

Staying true to jazz’s roots while exploring new admixtures, Mitchell’s work always merits attention whether in trio or quartet form.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Anaya: 1.Sho Ya Right 2. A Child’s Curiosity 3. Anaya with the Sunlight 4. Song for Ma’at (Ma-ah-t) 5. Beloved’s Reflection 6. Wheatgrass 7. Anaya with the Moon 8. Affirmation of the One

Personnel: Anaya: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Harrison Bankhead (bass and cello) and Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum)

Track Listing: Renegades: 1. Crossroads 2. No Matter What 3. Ice 4. Windance 5. Renegades 6. By My Own Grace 7. What If 8. Symbology #2A 9. Wade 10. Waterdance 11. Symbology #1 12. Mama Found Out 13. If I Could Have You The Way That I Want You 14. Symbology #2 15. Waris Dirie 16. Anaya’s Rainbow

Personnel: Renegades: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Renee Baker (violin and viola); Tomeka Reid (cello); Josh Abrams (bass and gimbre) and Shirazette Tinnin (drums and percussion)

October 16, 2009

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth Strings

Renegades
Delmark DE 587

Indigo Trio

Anaya

Rogueart Rog-0018

Having established herself as one of the primary flute voices in today’s improvised music, Chicago’s Nicole Mitchell has reached the point when she can record within six months of one another such dissimilar – yet equally engrossing – CDs. At the same time however, the sessions also pinpoint yet another evolution in the music as well as the challenge for the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) of which Mitchell is co-chair.

Anaya finds Mitchell as one-third of the co-op Indigo Trio. Her associates, cellist and bassist Harrison Bankhead, best-known for his work with AACM stalwart saxophonist Fred Anderson; and percussionist Hamid Drake – who seems to have played with more improvisers world-wide than just about any other drummer – are, like the flautist, second generation AACMers. The parameters of Anaya thus very much relate to the on-going jazz tradition.

Renegades on the other hand, featuring Mitchell’s Black Earth Strings, matches her with musicians who are either another generation younger than her, or like violist/violinist Renee Baker have an affiliation with non-improvised chamber music. Consequently this disc encompasses African, Native American, so-called classical and even folk-ballad influences – along with jazz and improvised music inflections – factoring in the collective experience of bassist and gimbre-player Josh Abrams, cellist Tomeka Reid and percussionist Shirazette Tinnin. Mitchell – who composed all 16 tracks on the CD – faces the challenge with Renegades of preventing this additional sonic input from overpowering the music’s jazz-based core. That, in the main she succeeds, is the result of allotting those other musical currents appropriate space alongside backbeat blues and jazz soloing.

For instance “Wade”, which takes its core melody from the spiritual “Wade in the Water”, is transformed during the performance. Spacious cello slices and marimba-styled resonation which introduce the initial melodious theme are soon superseded by walking bass lines, ruffs and flams from Tinnin, contrapuntal string extensions and wide-bore flute flutter-tonguing. Similarly, “Ice” extends from Abrams’ steady time-keeping, rasgueado cello accompaniment and the percussionist’s brush strokes and palm slaps to an interlude where Baker offers enough triple-stopping and floating spiccato to suggest Billy Bang. However the ethereal flute trills, and guitar-like picking from the cello are fulfilled by swelling string movements that could easy come from a chamber ensemble.

Three “Symbology” tunes explore atonality with broken-octave node exposure and jagged runs from the strings plus flute lipping and spitting. Yet other piece show just how delicate the multiple music interface is. Shrill contrapuntal flute bites push the instrument towards dizi tones; agitato string bowing take on erhu qualities; while the drummer could be playing a djembe. In contrast, the harmonized string voicing is definitely Europeanized, although a bit spikier.

“By My Own Grace” compounds the melody’s folk-song feel with string strumming and an uncomplicated double bass pattern. Darbuka-like percussion thumps, scrubbed string accompaniment and contrapuntal flute glissandi are what prevent the song from disappearing into wispiness, especially when Mitchell vocalizes a verse of female self-empowerment.

A cooperative vision in contrast, the Indigo Trio’s three powerful musical personalities equally divide the composing and playing chores on Anaya’s eight tracks. Still, the flautist’s “Wheatgrass” gives an idea of how they operate. As Bankhead’s bull fiddle walks with a steadying pace, Mitchell vamps piccolo-like intonation that hockets vibrating timbres and strident cheeps into animated buzzes. Meanwhile Drake uses bounces, rim shots and shuffle rhythms to speed the jazzy syncopation to staccatissimo, prodding Mitchell into andante, agitato timbres. After a recap of the theme, the final section features unison piccolo riffs in counterpoint with Bankhead’s and Drake’s rhythms.

A Bankhead piece such as “A Child’s Curiosity” is even more in the jazz tradition, with his quivering sul tasto thumps and Drake’s rebounds making it seems as if the kid is most inquisitive about the funk vamps that made the reputations of pianist Les McCann and saxophonist Eddie Harris – another Chicagoan – in the 1970s. Countering the drummer’s paradiddles and bounces as well as the bassist’s strong strokes is Mitchell, initially with the only child-like syncopation of the three. Eventually she introduces heavy-breathing staccato timbres and cascading lines which sluice from near inaudibility to concordance with Drake’s thick reverberations.

As for the drummer’s affiliated “Anaya” tunes – named for his granddaughter – the polyrhythms and subverted modes at points reach the World Music-jazz fusion that is also expressed on Renegades. Drags, flams and rolls from his toms and snares plus cymbal slaps and strokes take their place alongside sizzling flute tessitura mixed with glottal extensions. Meanwhile on “Anaya with the Sunlight”, Bankhead finger picks a cross tone so astonishing that he could be playing an oud or a resonator guitar rather than a bass or cello. Functional as well as flighty, this composition plus most of the others, holds to the concept of theme recapitulation for jazz-like reinforcement.

Staying true to jazz’s roots while exploring new admixtures, Mitchell’s work always merits attention whether in trio or quartet form.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Anaya: 1.Sho Ya Right 2. A Child’s Curiosity 3. Anaya with the Sunlight 4. Song for Ma’at (Ma-ah-t) 5. Beloved’s Reflection 6. Wheatgrass 7. Anaya with the Moon 8. Affirmation of the One

Personnel: Anaya: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Harrison Bankhead (bass and cello) and Hamid Drake (drums and frame drum)

Track Listing: Renegades: 1. Crossroads 2. No Matter What 3. Ice 4. Windance 5. Renegades 6. By My Own Grace 7. What If 8. Symbology #2A 9. Wade 10. Waterdance 11. Symbology #1 12. Mama Found Out 13. If I Could Have You The Way That I Want You 14. Symbology #2 15. Waris Dirie 16. Anaya’s Rainbow

Personnel: Renegades: Nicole Mitchell (flute, alto flute and piccolo); Renee Baker (violin and viola); Tomeka Reid (cello); Josh Abrams (bass and gimbre) and Shirazette Tinnin (drums and percussion)

October 16, 2009

Viktor Tóth

Climbing with Mountains
BMC CD 132

Mihály Dresch Quartet

Árgyélus

BMC CD 131

Hungarian saxophonists Viktor Tóth and Mihály Dresch may have their names on the CD covers as leaders of the dates, but their joint secret weapon is Ferenc Kovács. A multi-instrumentalist, he demonstrates equal facility playing trumpet on six tracks of Climbing with Mountains, and violin on three tracks of Árgyélus. Both these CDs aptly demonstrate the present state of Hungarian Jazz, which is still striving to asset its individuality.

Born in Kiskunhalas in 1977, alto saxophonist Viktor Tóth has performed with Hungarian pop groups as well as local and international jazz players including pianist Béla Szakcsi-Lakatos and New York-bassist William Parker. Featured on his CD is Chicago-based drummer Hamid Drake, who often works with Parker as well as in other bands around the world. Seconding them – and saxophonist Dresch on his CD as well – is Balassagyarmat-born bassist Mátyás Szandai, who is as in demand in Hungary as Drake is internationally. Gifted with rhythmic strength and supple linear movement, at 32, he has been playing professionally for half his life. Classically trained, Szandai has many folkloric jobs as well as jazz gigs with the likes of Parker and saxophonists Archie Shepp and David Murray.

This American orientation of Tóth and the disc means that Kovács usually plays his trumpet in a modified Don Cherry-Miles Davis style, whereas his violin playing on the CD of tenor and soprano saxophonist Mihály Dresch, hews closer to the Magyar tradition – imagine a Roma fiddler with a familiarity with Billy Bang-styled licks. Budapest-born Dresch, is 22 years older than Tóth, and organized the band featured here in 1998. A modern jazz explorer, who has recorded with Shepp and other Americans, on Árgyélus the saxophonist aims towards a Hungarian-American folk-jazz fusion

To intensify this mixture, besides the fiddle playing of Kovács – Dresch’s near contemporary, born in Budapest in 1957 – the place in a group usually reserved for a pianist is taken by cimbalom player Miklós Lukács. Kovács, a member of Djabe, a popular jazz-folk-World fusion group and whose background encompasses everything from first trumpeter of the Hungarian Post’s Symphony Orchestra, to a founder of the Budapest Ragtime Band and working with other folkloric groups.

Törökszentmiklós-born in the same year as Tóth, Lukács is a virtuoso of the cimbalom, a board zither with strings strung up-and-down and cross-wise, struck with hammers or beaters. Besides the expected folkloric and jazz/improv gigs, the cimbalomist also works with chamber and symphony orchestras, sometimes playing his own compositions as well as Liszt. Dependable drummer István Baló holds down the bottom on Árgyélus.

This strategy is especially effective when Dresch unveils his vibrant bluesy tone on tenor saxophone as on the title tune based on a Hungarian folk melody. Cushioned by cascading arpeggios from Lukács’ cimbalom and Szandai’s thumping bass, the saxophonist balances altissimo timbres with intense spiccato pulls from Kovács. Following an abrupt tempo shift that finds Baló laying on a heavy back beat, the fiddler extends the melody with double-stopping and tremolo jetes. Sounding as if he’s playing two instruments at once, Kovács provides the appropriate commentary on Dresch vocalizing a Hungarian folk song about an angelic figure which appears in the shape of a bird.

Self-consciously pentatonic “Heritage” slyly notes the five-note scale’s connection to both Magyar and African-American music. With resounding cimbalom taps matched with Roma-styled staccato runs, Dresch’s soprano trills manage to be both serpentine and sensuous. Eventually reed and string textures meld to near-weeping timbral undulations.

Even “Tziganesque (for Archie)” the saxman’s salute to Shepp, gains more from the violinist’s slick, but not sharp, hoe-down like interface and Lukács’ low-frequency chording and string-snapping than Dresch’s too-sweet soprano saxophone. With the drummer’s soft-mallet offbeats and ringing cimbalom’s peals, the tune reaches a proper finale only to be extended with reed cadenzas that recap the head on top of the drummer’s cross sticking and circular sawing from the violinist.

Oriented towards his Middle European legacy here, Dresch never forgets his equally powerful jazz roots. Recapping of the head is mandatory throughout his compositions, and he concludes the program with a flowery, late-Swing Era run through of Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood”. As splayed notes cascade from his soprano, Lukács supplies the harp-like backing.

This spectre of American jazz apparently haunts the much younger Tóth much more than the spectre of Communism haunted Hungarian society after 1956. If there are non-American sound references here, they show up in pieces like “Snake”, where Toth’s tone take on a lilt that stretches eastward past the Tartars to the Arab countries. However the tune’s low-key march tempo finds the saxophonist vibrating close harmonies with Kovács to hold things together.

Inculcated with Jazz education, Toth’s tone on gentle pieces recalls that of mid-1950s Bud Shank. He’s much more assertive on burners such as “Március”, but that’s because his alto lines relate not to earlier small horn specialists but to tough tenors such as Booker Ervin and Dexter Gordon. Demonstrating his youth with a near-endless note spew throughout, he does prove himself latterly as his altissimo tongue slices interlock with Drake’s chattering tom-toms and cowbell whacks.

Toth’s allegiance is made clear on “Ornette’s Smile”, where his front-line partner is again Kovács. Together however, the resulting dual strategy is less abstract than Ornette Coleman’s with any of his brass partners. With Szandai firmly adapting the anchoring role of Charlie Haden or David Izenzon, the saxman’s harsh split tones are more tentative than the trumpeter’s burbling grace notes that gradually toughen.

Oddly – or perhaps tellingly – the most impressive trio performance comes on “The Meaning of Three”, which unlike all the other tunes – composed by the saxist – is from Szandai’s pen. Accentuating the Roma-Arabic connection, Tóth’s trills are snake-like, distended with flutter-tonguing punctuation. The composer contributes tough, thumping resonation and the occasional twang, while Drake’s irregular paradiddles, flams and cymbal vibrations sometimes make it seem as if he is the front-line soloist with the two Hungarians backing him. It’s hoped that the others don’t see him as “the mountain” which they’re climbing.

Instructive glimpses into the evolving Hungarian Jazz scene, both CDs are memorable and listenable, but not in the masterworks category. Hopefully in the future the improvisers here – or other more junior or senior –will end up creating sounds true to both Hungarian and American traditions. Judging from ideas apparent on these discs it could happen soon.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Climbing: 1. Március 2. Autumn in Sicily 3. Message for Fishes 4. Snake 5. Train to Sarajevo 6. Mese 7. R’s Day 8. The Meaning of Three 9. Late Late Serenade 10. Ornette’s Smile 11. Green with Blue

Personnel: Climbing: Ferenc Kovács (trumpet on 3, 4, 5, 7, 10, 11); Viktor Tóth (alto saxophone); Mátyás Szandai (bass) Hamid Drake (drums) and Péter Pallai (spoken word)

Track Listing: Árgyélus: 1. Fragment 2. Soldier’s Farewell from Szék Village 3. Heritage 4. Homeward Bound 5. Árgyélus 6. Tziganesque (for Archie) 7. In a Sentimental Mood

Personnel: Árgyélus: Mihály Dresch (tenor and soprano saxophones, recorder and vocals); Miklós Lukács (cimbalom); Ferenc Kovács (violin on 3, 5, 6); Mátyás Szandai (bass) and István Baló (drums)

February 18, 2009

Mihály Dresch Quartet

Árgyélus
BMC CD 131

Viktor Tóth

Climbing with Mountains

BMC CD 132

Hungarian saxophonists Viktor Tóth and Mihály Dresch may have their names on the CD covers as leaders of the dates, but their joint secret weapon is Ferenc Kovács. A multi-instrumentalist, he demonstrates equal facility playing trumpet on six tracks of Climbing with Mountains, and violin on three tracks of Árgyélus. Both these CDs aptly demonstrate the present state of Hungarian Jazz, which is still striving to asset its individuality.

Born in Kiskunhalas in 1977, alto saxophonist Viktor Tóth has performed with Hungarian pop groups as well as local and international jazz players including pianist Béla Szakcsi-Lakatos and New York-bassist William Parker. Featured on his CD is Chicago-based drummer Hamid Drake, who often works with Parker as well as in other bands around the world. Seconding them – and saxophonist Dresch on his CD as well – is Balassagyarmat-born bassist Mátyás Szandai, who is as in demand in Hungary as Drake is internationally. Gifted with rhythmic strength and supple linear movement, at 32, he has been playing professionally for half his life. Classically trained, Szandai has many folkloric jobs as well as jazz gigs with the likes of Parker and saxophonists Archie Shepp and David Murray.

This American orientation of Tóth and the disc means that Kovács usually plays his trumpet in a modified Don Cherry-Miles Davis style, whereas his violin playing on the CD of tenor and soprano saxophonist Mihály Dresch, hews closer to the Magyar tradition – imagine a Roma fiddler with a familiarity with Billy Bang-styled licks. Budapest-born Dresch, is 22 years older than Tóth, and organized the band featured here in 1998. A modern jazz explorer, who has recorded with Shepp and other Americans, on Árgyélus the saxophonist aims towards a Hungarian-American folk-jazz fusion

To intensify this mixture, besides the fiddle playing of Kovács – Dresch’s near contemporary, born in Budapest in 1957 – the place in a group usually reserved for a pianist is taken by cimbalom player Miklós Lukács. Kovács, a member of Djabe, a popular jazz-folk-World fusion group and whose background encompasses everything from first trumpeter of the Hungarian Post’s Symphony Orchestra, to a founder of the Budapest Ragtime Band and working with other folkloric groups.

Törökszentmiklós-born in the same year as Tóth, Lukács is a virtuoso of the cimbalom, a board zither with strings strung up-and-down and cross-wise, struck with hammers or beaters. Besides the expected folkloric and jazz/improv gigs, the cimbalomist also works with chamber and symphony orchestras, sometimes playing his own compositions as well as Liszt. Dependable drummer István Baló holds down the bottom on Árgyélus.

This strategy is especially effective when Dresch unveils his vibrant bluesy tone on tenor saxophone as on the title tune based on a Hungarian folk melody. Cushioned by cascading arpeggios from Lukács’ cimbalom and Szandai’s thumping bass, the saxophonist balances altissimo timbres with intense spiccato pulls from Kovács. Following an abrupt tempo shift that finds Baló laying on a heavy back beat, the fiddler extends the melody with double-stopping and tremolo jetes. Sounding as if he’s playing two instruments at once, Kovács provides the appropriate commentary on Dresch vocalizing a Hungarian folk song about an angelic figure which appears in the shape of a bird.

Self-consciously pentatonic “Heritage” slyly notes the five-note scale’s connection to both Magyar and African-American music. With resounding cimbalom taps matched with Roma-styled staccato runs, Dresch’s soprano trills manage to be both serpentine and sensuous. Eventually reed and string textures meld to near-weeping timbral undulations.

Even “Tziganesque (for Archie)” the saxman’s salute to Shepp, gains more from the violinist’s slick, but not sharp, hoe-down like interface and Lukács’ low-frequency chording and string-snapping than Dresch’s too-sweet soprano saxophone. With the drummer’s soft-mallet offbeats and ringing cimbalom’s peals, the tune reaches a proper finale only to be extended with reed cadenzas that recap the head on top of the drummer’s cross sticking and circular sawing from the violinist.

Oriented towards his Middle European legacy here, Dresch never forgets his equally powerful jazz roots. Recapping of the head is mandatory throughout his compositions, and he concludes the program with a flowery, late-Swing Era run through of Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood”. As splayed notes cascade from his soprano, Lukács supplies the harp-like backing.

This spectre of American jazz apparently haunts the much younger Tóth much more than the spectre of Communism haunted Hungarian society after 1956. If there are non-American sound references here, they show up in pieces like “Snake”, where Toth’s tone take on a lilt that stretches eastward past the Tartars to the Arab countries. However the tune’s low-key march tempo finds the saxophonist vibrating close harmonies with Kovács to hold things together.

Inculcated with Jazz education, Toth’s tone on gentle pieces recalls that of mid-1950s Bud Shank. He’s much more assertive on burners such as “Március”, but that’s because his alto lines relate not to earlier small horn specialists but to tough tenors such as Booker Ervin and Dexter Gordon. Demonstrating his youth with a near-endless note spew throughout, he does prove himself latterly as his altissimo tongue slices interlock with Drake’s chattering tom-toms and cowbell whacks.

Toth’s allegiance is made clear on “Ornette’s Smile”, where his front-line partner is again Kovács. Together however, the resulting dual strategy is less abstract than Ornette Coleman’s with any of his brass partners. With Szandai firmly adapting the anchoring role of Charlie Haden or David Izenzon, the saxman’s harsh split tones are more tentative than the trumpeter’s burbling grace notes that gradually toughen.

Oddly – or perhaps tellingly – the most impressive trio performance comes on “The Meaning of Three”, which unlike all the other tunes – composed by the saxist – is from Szandai’s pen. Accentuating the Roma-Arabic connection, Tóth’s trills are snake-like, distended with flutter-tonguing punctuation. The composer contributes tough, thumping resonation and the occasional twang, while Drake’s irregular paradiddles, flams and cymbal vibrations sometimes make it seem as if he is the front-line soloist with the two Hungarians backing him. It’s hoped that the others don’t see him as “the mountain” which they’re climbing.

Instructive glimpses into the evolving Hungarian Jazz scene, both CDs are memorable and listenable, but not in the masterworks category. Hopefully in the future the improvisers here – or other more junior or senior –will end up creating sounds true to both Hungarian and American traditions. Judging from ideas apparent on these discs it could happen soon.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Climbing: 1. Március 2. Autumn in Sicily 3. Message for Fishes 4. Snake 5. Train to Sarajevo 6. Mese 7. R’s Day 8. The Meaning of Three 9. Late Late Serenade 10. Ornette’s Smile 11. Green with Blue

Personnel: Climbing: Ferenc Kovács (trumpet on 3, 4, 5, 7, 10, 11); Viktor Tóth (alto saxophone); Mátyás Szandai (bass) Hamid Drake (drums) and Péter Pallai (spoken word)

Track Listing: Árgyélus: 1. Fragment 2. Soldier’s Farewell from Szék Village 3. Heritage 4. Homeward Bound 5. Árgyélus 6. Tziganesque (for Archie) 7. In a Sentimental Mood

Personnel: Árgyélus: Mihály Dresch (tenor and soprano saxophones, recorder and vocals); Miklós Lukács (cimbalom); Ferenc Kovács (violin on 3, 5, 6); Mátyás Szandai (bass) and István Baló (drums)

February 18, 2009

Kidd Jordan

The Vision Festival New York
June 11, 2008

Figuratively – and usually single-handedly – carrying the banner for experimental Jazz in New Orleans for many years, tenor saxophonist Edward “Kidd” Jordan, 73, must have felt metaphorically out-in-the-cold on many occasions. But heat was certainly in evidence – literally and emotionally – mid-June in New York as a turn-away crowd helped celebrate the reedman’s Lifetime Achievement with a series of concerts.

Highlight of the 13th Annual Vision Festival that took place at the Lower East Side’s Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center, the five sets honoring Jordan were hot – as was the venue. Despite a few strategically placed revolving fans, the temperature hovered around 35 degrees Celsius in the venerable space, with body heat from the packed audiences adding to the ventilation challenges.

Besides working as a sideman in Crescent City bands and an educator at Southern University, introducing generations of students – including his own children – to improvised music, Jordan has been playing “outside” since the 1960s, but wasn’t really recognized until collaborating with outsiders in the late 1970s. His most affecting work during the festival was with two of those ensembles.

Culmination of the evening was an incendiary workout between Jordan and another Free Jazz pioneer, 79-year-old tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson of Chicago backed by the unbeatable rhythm section of Chicago’s Hamid Drake on drums and New York’s William Parker on bass. Earlier there was as impressive a collaboration with some of Jordan’s Southern associates: pianist Joel Futterman from Virginia, New Orleans trumpeter Clyde Kerr, plus Parker and – subbing for indisposed Mississippi-based drummer Alvin Fielder – New York drummer Gerald Cleaver. As if he was playing at New Orleans’ Preservation Hall, Kerr remained seated on a chair throughout the set.

Perhaps the most notable part of this meeting was how seamlessly the full rounded tone of Kerr’s trumpet fit with Jordan’s split tones and frequent altissimo excursions, plus Futterman’s hunts, pecks and stops both inside on the piano strings and on the keyboard. Kerr’s burbling, heraldic timbres and carefully measured lines existed besides, but not quite in the same time-space as the other four. Yet even as Futterman jabbed the keys and Parker played sul tasto vibrations, Jordan made common cause with the brass man without altering his characteristic style. Knitting quotes from late period John Coltrane ballads and the familiar “Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child” to Kerr’s grace notes, Jordan ensured harmonic inclusion, with the improvisation’s conclusion as tender as a lullaby.

The saxophonist’s gift for melodic interpolation was used even more effectively in the evening’s first set which matched his long-lined theme elaboration with the baritone saxophonist Hamiet Bluiett’s high pitches. Backed by Dave Burrell pounding high frequency piano chords and Maynard Chatters stretching the piano strings, the baritonist however seemed to feel he had to mirror every one of Jordan’s excursions into altissimo, shrilling similar pitches on his larger horn. Rarely was the baritone’s basso timbre properly exploited. But again – with some help from Burrell’s boogie-woogie-like arpeggios – it was Jordan who kept the exposition on an even keel.

Segueing into “Body and Soul” references, he moderated the bigger saxophone’s altissimo blats. Following Chatters’ piano string scraping and Burrell’s song-like patterning, Jordan interpolated the hymn “Wade in the Water” into the mix, had the melody doubled with gospel chording from Burrell and finally had it accepted by a more relaxed Bluiett.

Jordan could relax himself in a later set of nimble swing that paired him with animated violinist Billy Bang, backed by Parker and Drake. With the bassist flaying his strings rhythmically and the drummer sounding a powerful backbeat, the bravura front line lobbed sound shards at one another – but shards that owed more to the blues than dodecaphony.

Often operating in double counterpoint, the two were a study in contrasts. Bang, who sometimes swayed in an Elvis-like snake-hipped dance as he double-stopped and picked at near warp-like speed, faced Jordan, who at one point sprawled on a nearby chair and fired off chorus-after-chorus of multiphonics and double tonguing while foot-tapping. With Bang replicating participation in a demented hoedown, the saxophonist varied his responses with Woody Woodpecker-like cries and staccato trills. Finally over a chorus of brittle, jagged sweeps from Bang, he shouted out a series of vocalized exhortations, which rather than being disruptive, fit jigsaw-puzzle-piece-like with the fiddler’s runs.

Jordan’s skills so energized Bang’s imagination, that in the late-night finale, after prowling the stage, he made an unannounced addition to the Anderson-Jordan quartet romp. So too, mid-way through that set, did another veteran Chicago tenor saxophonist, Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre. Unlike Bang whose broken octave confrontation with Anderson and Jordan provided spirited contrapuntal lines to the dual tenor’s exposition, McIntyre merely vamped, and his sound was eventually subsumed beneath the churning Parker-Drake rhythm section.

Upfront Anderson and Jordan perfectly complemented one another. Despite the geographic gap, the two have worked frequently in a quartet configuration since the late 1980s, after discovering they were reedists of a similar age, who had been attempting similar experiments independently of one another. That night, preferring staccato breaks and splintered altissimo runs, the animated Jordan’s improvisations were easily distinguished from Anderson’s, whose meditative exposition is explicitly linked to the classic tenor saxophone tradition that encompasses Coleman Hawkins as well as John Coltrane.

Someone who bends into a semi-crouch when he plays, Anderson expanded his sounds with foghorn honks, while Jordan splayed split tones, alternating with sudden reed bites. With Bang playing near-saxophone-like lines as well, the three produced a series of chases and shouts. Eventually the tune turned towards steady blues progression as Parker walked and slapped and Drake thickly press rolled the beat. Diminuendo, the tune climaxed as the saxophone honked lustily and gradually more softly.

Each of these varied collaborations made it clear why Jordan had been honored. Although his saxophone conception takes its basic vocabulary from the advances of John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman, unlike some others he was quickly able to escape their influence and forge his own style. Another saxophone veteran of the 1960s, altoist Sonny Simmons who played in the next day, provided a contrasting example of someone who never escaped the Trane-Coleman trajectory.

Jordan, who wryly noted that if you live long enough you become appreciated, also deserved his accolades for passing on improvisation skills to further generations, even if – like his own sons, trumpeter Marlon Jordan and flutist Kent Jordan, who played less interesting contemporary sounds with their own band in a set honoring their father that night – the aim becomes professionalism rather than invention.

--Ken Waxman

-- For MusicWorks Issue #102

November 20, 2008

William Parker

The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield – Live in Rome
Rai Trade RTPJ 0011

William Parker/ Raining On The Moon

Corn Meal Dance

AUM Fidelity AUM043

William Parker Double Quartet

Alphaville Suite

Rogue Art: ROG 0010

Concerned with different varieties of the Black vernacular experience, each of these fine CDs by bassist William Parker is impressive on its own. More profoundly each illustrates in a different way that the musical divisions among jazz, R&B, improvised music and soul are, in many cases, merely arbitrary.

Encompassing themes that are respectively populist (The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield), particular (Alphaville Suite) and highly personal (Corn Meal Dance), the sessions are stimulated not only by the resourcefulness of Parker’s compositions and arrangements, but by emphatic contributions from other band members. Although the personnel vary from disc to disc, each group includes, besides Parker, drummer Hamid Drake, trumpeter Lewis Barnes, and most spectacularly, vocalist Leena Conquest.

A Dallas native who has also worked with jazz-funk vibesman Roy Ayers and neo-bop pianist Mulgrew Miller, Conquest’s impressive vocal range, elevated diction and theatrical presentation pushes the performances on each of her appearance with the combo(s) another notch higher. No strident scat singer or flighty diva, she’s heir both to the clearly enunciated soul tradition of Dinah Washington and Aretha Franklin and to the socio-political undertakings of Abby Lincoln and Jeanne Lee.

That’s one inadvertent disappointment on Alphaville, since as “special guest” Conquest sings only on two short tracks. On the other hand the instrumental work is Parker’s most precise, since his compositions and arrangements salute the themes and influence of Alphaville, French director Jean-Luc Godard’s 1965 film classic. To amplify his compositional palate for the CD, Parker’s core trio is joined by his usual reed partner, alto saxophonist Rob Brown, plus a post-modern version of a string quartet: Mazz Swift on violin, Jessica Pavone on viola and cellists Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu.

Rather than being used for conventional sweetening, the string performances are instead most often angular, spiccato and staccato, adding discordant arpeggios and shredded pulsations which at separate times cleave to Parker’s strummed centre tones or Brown’s skittering vibrato.

Although the CD is an exceptional showcase for the alto man’s tart, neo-bop tongue fluttering, it doesn’t mean that he’s the only soloist who excels here. Drake’s bass drum breaks and shadowed paradiddles add percussive heft to the 10 tracks. Meanwhile, to pick another highlight, Barnes’ trumpet flourishes and muted runs are involved in a contrapuntal duet with the thumping bass line on “Alpha 60”. Another theme is elaborated by Barnes’ darting, swift half-valve brass effects as well as Drake’s single cymbal reverberations, succeeded by sul ponticello circular bowing from the five strings. Its summation involves Barnes’ bugling tempo changes, bent notes and an extended mouthpiece tongue kiss.

With its loping Crime Jazz-like theme filled with sharp arco patterning and splintered tension-release “Doctor Badguy” is one of the two most programmatic tracks here; the other, “Interrogation”, depends on the aural images crated by descending double-pumping massed strings. Still, “Civilizations of the Light”, which was in Duke Ellington-fashion put together in the studio on the day of recording, proves that thematic fidelity doesn’t fully supersede improvisational smarts.

Composed with an almost Latinesque cast the tune has violinist Swift’s fierce, discursive solo introduce contrapuntal shrieks from other strings followed by their tremolo, squeezed triplets and Brown’s spilling arpeggios. Parker’s obbligato whorls finally order the extensions into a connective line. Andante, the contrapuntal horn and string patterns are constricted in the finale courtesy of a walking bass line and Drake’s rim shots.

The string section had been left at home three years previously when Parker and company played a jazz festival in Rome. In their place – and to provide more rhythmic impetus to this salute to Chicago Soul songwriter Curtis Mayfield (1942-1999) – is Daryl Foster on soprano and tenor saxophones, Sabir Mateen on tenor and alto saxophones and pianist Dave Burrell, plus Barnes, Parker and Conquest. In glorious voice, Conquest personifies the Mayfield’s material which encompasses his period with the Impressions (“People Get Ready”) as well as tunes from his influential Superfly soundtrack (“Freddie’s Dead”).

Adding to the purported street cred of the performance is the voice and poetry of professional Black firebrand Amiri Baraka. Although his sardonic, Afro-nationalism adds a few wryly poetic quips to the encore of “Freddie’s Dead” – he even gets off a line about Italy’s ex-right-wing premier Silvio Berlusconi – too often his nattering and mumbling interferes with Conquest’s soaring vocalizing.

Overall a rollicking affair, Parker’s chunky bass lines bring to mind Motown’s 1960s low-string vamp master James Jamerson, the riffing horn section channels 1960s Stax-Volt, while Drake’s stout backbeat could have gotten him R&B studio gigs during Mayfield’s Windy City heyday. Burrell, who has always been comfortable with piano history, adds pre-modern and conscious primitvist inflections to his two-handed accompaniment. Most spectacularly, on “Think” he pulls off the feat of creating a solo that’s simultaneously half-gospel and half-rococo.

However this is also the tune where Foster’s lightweight soprano sax obbligato appears to be paying homage to Grover Washington rather than more substantial players, while Baraka’s shouts and growls are merely annoying. Only Conquest’s verbal tonality and Mateen’s larger horn snorts keep things on an even keel.

Centrepiece of the performance is an almost 21-minute version of Mayfield’s “We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue”, with full-bore shuffle rhythm from Drake and undercurrent of riffing horns. Maintaining her bel canto take on the lyrics and backed by Burrell’s gospelish chording and low-frequency coloration, Conquest’s melodious inhabiting of the lyrics provides a profound foundation for Baraka’s heavily rhythmic Afro-American chanting. Later she reveals a hitherto unexposed talent, using scatting glossolalia to blend with Mateen’s altissimo squeaks and slides, while the pianist’s comping accelerates to house-party-style riffs.

A pianist of a far different background joins Parker and company on Corn Meal Dance, which is the newest and perhaps most fully realized CD here. Eri Yamamoto usually plays in more mainstream, piano-trio settings, including on an earlier disc with Parker. Here though, her references are high-frequency near-honky-tonk cadences, which are appropriate for this slice of the modern Black experience reflected not only in the bassist’s compositions, but his gnarly, poetic lyrics as well,

Luckily Conquest is on hand again for verbal interpretation, along with Drake, Barnes and Brown providing the musical ballast. Parker’s imagery appears to equally reflect agit-prop, Black folk tales, the stridency of 1970s’ Gil Scott-Heron and Bob Dylan’s 1960s surrealistic song-poetry. When provided with the proper setting, notable performances result.

“Gilmore’s Hat”, for instance, a light-hearted salute to John Gilmore, the late Sun Ra tenor saxophonist, is a stop-time hand-clapper with snappy words personalized by Conquest, and the music illuminated by Brown’s choked slithery reed lines, wah-wah expansions from Barnes and backbeat rolls from Drake. It concludes with perfectly pitched scatting from the vocalist. On the other hand, proper gravitas is reflected in Conquest’s interpretation of “Tutsi Orphans”, as the band’s vamps underlies this tragic tale of inter-tribal genocide, echoing similar situations in many other Africa countries.

Even better are the overtly political Soledad” and “Land Song”, which unlike Baraka’s limp attempts at relevancy on the Italian disc, manage to score points while remaining sonically first-rate. The latter tune is built up from unison horn lines and metronomic piano key battering, and has lyrics which cleverly mix contemporary asides with references to traditional post-Reconstruction inequalities. Featuring bull fiddle rumbles and drum rolls, it’s also a solo high point on the session for Brown who illustrates the theme with crying, evocative tones.

Mixing a blues progression and progressive lyrics in the mold of Max Roach’s and Charles Mingus’ 1960s militancy, “Soledad” gains its unmistakable power from the sincerity in Conquest’s voice, which in turn humanizes Parker’s lyrics no matter how far-fetched or obscurely poetic. Barnes’ high-pitched obbligatos provide perfect counterpoint to the singer’s warbling, yodeling and soulful groans.

Each of these outstanding discs provides an opportunity to sample the work of two artists – Parker and Conquest – in full maturity. All are worthy of your time.

-- Ken Waxman

.

Track Listing: Inside: 1. The Makings Of You 2. People Get Ready 3. Inside Song #1 4. We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue 5. Spoken Introduction 6. Think 7. Freddie’s Dead

Personnel: Inside: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Daryl Foster (soprano and tenor saxophones); Sabir Mateen (tenor and alto saxophones); Dave Burrell (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums); Leena Conquest (voice) and Amiri Baraka (voice and poetry)

Track Listing: Alphaville: 1. Alphaville Main Theme 2. Journey to the End of the Night 4. Natasha’s Theme I 5. Interrogation 6. Alpha 60 7. Oceanville Evening 8. Civilization of Light 9. Outlands 10. Natasha’s Theme II

Personnel: Alphaville: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Mazz Swift (violin); Jessica Pavone (viola); Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu (cellos); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

Track Listing: Corn: 1. Doctor Yesterday 2. Tutsi Orphans 3. Poem for June Jordan 4. Soledad 5. Corn Meal Dance 6. Land Song 7. Prayer 8. Old Tears 9. Gilmore’s Hat

Personnel: Corn: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Eri Yamamoto (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

March 28, 2008

William Parker/Raining On The Moon

Corn Meal Dance
AUM Fidelity AUM043

William Parker Double Quartet

Alphaville Suite

Rogue Art: ROG 0010

William Parker

The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield – Live in Rome

Rai Trade RTPJ 0011

Concerned with different varieties of the Black vernacular experience, each of these fine CDs by bassist William Parker is impressive on its own. More profoundly each illustrates in a different way that the musical divisions among jazz, R&B, improvised music and soul are, in many cases, merely arbitrary.

Encompassing themes that are respectively populist (The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield), particular (Alphaville Suite) and highly personal (Corn Meal Dance), the sessions are stimulated not only by the resourcefulness of Parker’s compositions and arrangements, but by emphatic contributions from other band members. Although the personnel vary from disc to disc, each group includes, besides Parker, drummer Hamid Drake, trumpeter Lewis Barnes, and most spectacularly, vocalist Leena Conquest.

A Dallas native who has also worked with jazz-funk vibesman Roy Ayers and neo-bop pianist Mulgrew Miller, Conquest’s impressive vocal range, elevated diction and theatrical presentation pushes the performances on each of her appearance with the combo(s) another notch higher. No strident scat singer or flighty diva, she’s heir both to the clearly enunciated soul tradition of Dinah Washington and Aretha Franklin and to the socio-political undertakings of Abby Lincoln and Jeanne Lee.

That’s one inadvertent disappointment on Alphaville, since as “special guest” Conquest sings only on two short tracks. On the other hand the instrumental work is Parker’s most precise, since his compositions and arrangements salute the themes and influence of Alphaville, French director Jean-Luc Godard’s 1965 film classic. To amplify his compositional palate for the CD, Parker’s core trio is joined by his usual reed partner, alto saxophonist Rob Brown, plus a post-modern version of a string quartet: Mazz Swift on violin, Jessica Pavone on viola and cellists Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu.

Rather than being used for conventional sweetening, the string performances are instead most often angular, spiccato and staccato, adding discordant arpeggios and shredded pulsations which at separate times cleave to Parker’s strummed centre tones or Brown’s skittering vibrato.

Although the CD is an exceptional showcase for the alto man’s tart, neo-bop tongue fluttering, it doesn’t mean that he’s the only soloist who excels here. Drake’s bass drum breaks and shadowed paradiddles add percussive heft to the 10 tracks. Meanwhile, to pick another highlight, Barnes’ trumpet flourishes and muted runs are involved in a contrapuntal duet with the thumping bass line on “Alpha 60”. Another theme is elaborated by Barnes’ darting, swift half-valve brass effects as well as Drake’s single cymbal reverberations, succeeded by sul ponticello circular bowing from the five strings. Its summation involves Barnes’ bugling tempo changes, bent notes and an extended mouthpiece tongue kiss.

With its loping Crime Jazz-like theme filled with sharp arco patterning and splintered tension-release “Doctor Badguy” is one of the two most programmatic tracks here; the other, “Interrogation”, depends on the aural images crated by descending double-pumping massed strings. Still, “Civilizations of the Light”, which was in Duke Ellington-fashion put together in the studio on the day of recording, proves that thematic fidelity doesn’t fully supersede improvisational smarts.

Composed with an almost Latinesque cast the tune has violinist Swift’s fierce, discursive solo introduce contrapuntal shrieks from other strings followed by their tremolo, squeezed triplets and Brown’s spilling arpeggios. Parker’s obbligato whorls finally order the extensions into a connective line. Andante, the contrapuntal horn and string patterns are constricted in the finale courtesy of a walking bass line and Drake’s rim shots.

The string section had been left at home three years previously when Parker and company played a jazz festival in Rome. In their place – and to provide more rhythmic impetus to this salute to Chicago Soul songwriter Curtis Mayfield (1942-1999) – is Daryl Foster on soprano and tenor saxophones, Sabir Mateen on tenor and alto saxophones and pianist Dave Burrell, plus Barnes, Parker and Conquest. In glorious voice, Conquest personifies the Mayfield’s material which encompasses his period with the Impressions (“People Get Ready”) as well as tunes from his influential Superfly soundtrack (“Freddie’s Dead”).

Adding to the purported street cred of the performance is the voice and poetry of professional Black firebrand Amiri Baraka. Although his sardonic, Afro-nationalism adds a few wryly poetic quips to the encore of “Freddie’s Dead” – he even gets off a line about Italy’s ex-right-wing premier Silvio Berlusconi – too often his nattering and mumbling interferes with Conquest’s soaring vocalizing.

Overall a rollicking affair, Parker’s chunky bass lines bring to mind Motown’s 1960s low-string vamp master James Jamerson, the riffing horn section channels 1960s Stax-Volt, while Drake’s stout backbeat could have gotten him R&B studio gigs during Mayfield’s Windy City heyday. Burrell, who has always been comfortable with piano history, adds pre-modern and conscious primitvist inflections to his two-handed accompaniment. Most spectacularly, on “Think” he pulls off the feat of creating a solo that’s simultaneously half-gospel and half-rococo.

However this is also the tune where Foster’s lightweight soprano sax obbligato appears to be paying homage to Grover Washington rather than more substantial players, while Baraka’s shouts and growls are merely annoying. Only Conquest’s verbal tonality and Mateen’s larger horn snorts keep things on an even keel.

Centrepiece of the performance is an almost 21-minute version of Mayfield’s “We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue”, with full-bore shuffle rhythm from Drake and undercurrent of riffing horns. Maintaining her bel canto take on the lyrics and backed by Burrell’s gospelish chording and low-frequency coloration, Conquest’s melodious inhabiting of the lyrics provides a profound foundation for Baraka’s heavily rhythmic Afro-American chanting. Later she reveals a hitherto unexposed talent, using scatting glossolalia to blend with Mateen’s altissimo squeaks and slides, while the pianist’s comping accelerates to house-party-style riffs.

A pianist of a far different background joins Parker and company on Corn Meal Dance, which is the newest and perhaps most fully realized CD here. Eri Yamamoto usually plays in more mainstream, piano-trio settings, including on an earlier disc with Parker. Here though, her references are high-frequency near-honky-tonk cadences, which are appropriate for this slice of the modern Black experience reflected not only in the bassist’s compositions, but his gnarly, poetic lyrics as well,

Luckily Conquest is on hand again for verbal interpretation, along with Drake, Barnes and Brown providing the musical ballast. Parker’s imagery appears to equally reflect agit-prop, Black folk tales, the stridency of 1970s’ Gil Scott-Heron and Bob Dylan’s 1960s surrealistic song-poetry. When provided with the proper setting, notable performances result.

“Gilmore’s Hat”, for instance, a light-hearted salute to John Gilmore, the late Sun Ra tenor saxophonist, is a stop-time hand-clapper with snappy words personalized by Conquest, and the music illuminated by Brown’s choked slithery reed lines, wah-wah expansions from Barnes and backbeat rolls from Drake. It concludes with perfectly pitched scatting from the vocalist. On the other hand, proper gravitas is reflected in Conquest’s interpretation of “Tutsi Orphans”, as the band’s vamps underlies this tragic tale of inter-tribal genocide, echoing similar situations in many other Africa countries.

Even better are the overtly political Soledad” and “Land Song”, which unlike Baraka’s limp attempts at relevancy on the Italian disc, manage to score points while remaining sonically first-rate. The latter tune is built up from unison horn lines and metronomic piano key battering, and has lyrics which cleverly mix contemporary asides with references to traditional post-Reconstruction inequalities. Featuring bull fiddle rumbles and drum rolls, it’s also a solo high point on the session for Brown who illustrates the theme with crying, evocative tones.

Mixing a blues progression and progressive lyrics in the mold of Max Roach’s and Charles Mingus’ 1960s militancy, “Soledad” gains its unmistakable power from the sincerity in Conquest’s voice, which in turn humanizes Parker’s lyrics no matter how far-fetched or obscurely poetic. Barnes’ high-pitched obbligatos provide perfect counterpoint to the singer’s warbling, yodeling and soulful groans.

Each of these outstanding discs provides an opportunity to sample the work of two artists – Parker and Conquest – in full maturity. All are worthy of your time.

-- Ken Waxman

.

Track Listing: Inside: 1. The Makings Of You 2. People Get Ready 3. Inside Song #1 4. We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue 5. Spoken Introduction 6. Think 7. Freddie’s Dead

Personnel: Inside: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Daryl Foster (soprano and tenor saxophones); Sabir Mateen (tenor and alto saxophones); Dave Burrell (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums); Leena Conquest (voice) and Amiri Baraka (voice and poetry)

Track Listing: Alphaville: 1. Alphaville Main Theme 2. Journey to the End of the Night 4. Natasha’s Theme I 5. Interrogation 6. Alpha 60 7. Oceanville Evening 8. Civilization of Light 9. Outlands 10. Natasha’s Theme II

Personnel: Alphaville: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Mazz Swift (violin); Jessica Pavone (viola); Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu (cellos); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

Track Listing: Corn: 1. Doctor Yesterday 2. Tutsi Orphans 3. Poem for June Jordan 4. Soledad 5. Corn Meal Dance 6. Land Song 7. Prayer 8. Old Tears 9. Gilmore’s Hat

Personnel: Corn: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Eri Yamamoto (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

March 28, 2008

William Parker Double Quartet

Alphaville Suite
Rogue Art: ROG 0010

William Parker/ Raining On The Moon

Corn Meal Dance

AUM Fidelity AUM043

William Parker

The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield – Live in Rome

Rai Trade RTPJ 0011

Concerned with different varieties of the Black vernacular experience, each of these fine CDs by bassist William Parker is impressive on its own. More profoundly each illustrates in a different way that the musical divisions among jazz, R&B, improvised music and soul are, in many cases, merely arbitrary.

Encompassing themes that are respectively populist (The Inside Songs of Curtis Mayfield), particular (Alphaville Suite) and highly personal (Corn Meal Dance), the sessions are stimulated not only by the resourcefulness of Parker’s compositions and arrangements, but by emphatic contributions from other band members. Although the personnel vary from disc to disc, each group includes, besides Parker, drummer Hamid Drake, trumpeter Lewis Barnes, and most spectacularly, vocalist Leena Conquest.

A Dallas native who has also worked with jazz-funk vibesman Roy Ayers and neo-bop pianist Mulgrew Miller, Conquest’s impressive vocal range, elevated diction and theatrical presentation pushes the performances on each of her appearance with the combo(s) another notch higher. No strident scat singer or flighty diva, she’s heir both to the clearly enunciated soul tradition of Dinah Washington and Aretha Franklin and to the socio-political undertakings of Abby Lincoln and Jeanne Lee.

That’s one inadvertent disappointment on Alphaville, since as “special guest” Conquest sings only on two short tracks. On the other hand the instrumental work is Parker’s most precise, since his compositions and arrangements salute the themes and influence of Alphaville, French director Jean-Luc Godard’s 1965 film classic. To amplify his compositional palate for the CD, Parker’s core trio is joined by his usual reed partner, alto saxophonist Rob Brown, plus a post-modern version of a string quartet: Mazz Swift on violin, Jessica Pavone on viola and cellists Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu.

Rather than being used for conventional sweetening, the string performances are instead most often angular, spiccato and staccato, adding discordant arpeggios and shredded pulsations which at separate times cleave to Parker’s strummed centre tones or Brown’s skittering vibrato.

Although the CD is an exceptional showcase for the alto man’s tart, neo-bop tongue fluttering, it doesn’t mean that he’s the only soloist who excels here. Drake’s bass drum breaks and shadowed paradiddles add percussive heft to the 10 tracks. Meanwhile, to pick another highlight, Barnes’ trumpet flourishes and muted runs are involved in a contrapuntal duet with the thumping bass line on “Alpha 60”. Another theme is elaborated by Barnes’ darting, swift half-valve brass effects as well as Drake’s single cymbal reverberations, succeeded by sul ponticello circular bowing from the five strings. Its summation involves Barnes’ bugling tempo changes, bent notes and an extended mouthpiece tongue kiss.

With its loping Crime Jazz-like theme filled with sharp arco patterning and splintered tension-release “Doctor Badguy” is one of the two most programmatic tracks here; the other, “Interrogation”, depends on the aural images crated by descending double-pumping massed strings. Still, “Civilizations of the Light”, which was in Duke Ellington-fashion put together in the studio on the day of recording, proves that thematic fidelity doesn’t fully supersede improvisational smarts.

Composed with an almost Latinesque cast the tune has violinist Swift’s fierce, discursive solo introduce contrapuntal shrieks from other strings followed by their tremolo, squeezed triplets and Brown’s spilling arpeggios. Parker’s obbligato whorls finally order the extensions into a connective line. Andante, the contrapuntal horn and string patterns are constricted in the finale courtesy of a walking bass line and Drake’s rim shots.

The string section had been left at home three years previously when Parker and company played a jazz festival in Rome. In their place – and to provide more rhythmic impetus to this salute to Chicago Soul songwriter Curtis Mayfield (1942-1999) – is Daryl Foster on soprano and tenor saxophones, Sabir Mateen on tenor and alto saxophones and pianist Dave Burrell, plus Barnes, Parker and Conquest. In glorious voice, Conquest personifies the Mayfield’s material which encompasses his period with the Impressions (“People Get Ready”) as well as tunes from his influential Superfly soundtrack (“Freddie’s Dead”).

Adding to the purported street cred of the performance is the voice and poetry of professional Black firebrand Amiri Baraka. Although his sardonic, Afro-nationalism adds a few wryly poetic quips to the encore of “Freddie’s Dead” – he even gets off a line about Italy’s ex-right-wing premier Silvio Berlusconi – too often his nattering and mumbling interferes with Conquest’s soaring vocalizing.

Overall a rollicking affair, Parker’s chunky bass lines bring to mind Motown’s 1960s low-string vamp master James Jamerson, the riffing horn section channels 1960s Stax-Volt, while Drake’s stout backbeat could have gotten him R&B studio gigs during Mayfield’s Windy City heyday. Burrell, who has always been comfortable with piano history, adds pre-modern and conscious primitvist inflections to his two-handed accompaniment. Most spectacularly, on “Think” he pulls off the feat of creating a solo that’s simultaneously half-gospel and half-rococo.

However this is also the tune where Foster’s lightweight soprano sax obbligato appears to be paying homage to Grover Washington rather than more substantial players, while Baraka’s shouts and growls are merely annoying. Only Conquest’s verbal tonality and Mateen’s larger horn snorts keep things on an even keel.

Centrepiece of the performance is an almost 21-minute version of Mayfield’s “We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue”, with full-bore shuffle rhythm from Drake and undercurrent of riffing horns. Maintaining her bel canto take on the lyrics and backed by Burrell’s gospelish chording and low-frequency coloration, Conquest’s melodious inhabiting of the lyrics provides a profound foundation for Baraka’s heavily rhythmic Afro-American chanting. Later she reveals a hitherto unexposed talent, using scatting glossolalia to blend with Mateen’s altissimo squeaks and slides, while the pianist’s comping accelerates to house-party-style riffs.

A pianist of a far different background joins Parker and company on Corn Meal Dance, which is the newest and perhaps most fully realized CD here. Eri Yamamoto usually plays in more mainstream, piano-trio settings, including on an earlier disc with Parker. Here though, her references are high-frequency near-honky-tonk cadences, which are appropriate for this slice of the modern Black experience reflected not only in the bassist’s compositions, but his gnarly, poetic lyrics as well,

Luckily Conquest is on hand again for verbal interpretation, along with Drake, Barnes and Brown providing the musical ballast. Parker’s imagery appears to equally reflect agit-prop, Black folk tales, the stridency of 1970s’ Gil Scott-Heron and Bob Dylan’s 1960s surrealistic song-poetry. When provided with the proper setting, notable performances result.

“Gilmore’s Hat”, for instance, a light-hearted salute to John Gilmore, the late Sun Ra tenor saxophonist, is a stop-time hand-clapper with snappy words personalized by Conquest, and the music illuminated by Brown’s choked slithery reed lines, wah-wah expansions from Barnes and backbeat rolls from Drake. It concludes with perfectly pitched scatting from the vocalist. On the other hand, proper gravitas is reflected in Conquest’s interpretation of “Tutsi Orphans”, as the band’s vamps underlies this tragic tale of inter-tribal genocide, echoing similar situations in many other Africa countries.

Even better are the overtly political Soledad” and “Land Song”, which unlike Baraka’s limp attempts at relevancy on the Italian disc, manage to score points while remaining sonically first-rate. The latter tune is built up from unison horn lines and metronomic piano key battering, and has lyrics which cleverly mix contemporary asides with references to traditional post-Reconstruction inequalities. Featuring bull fiddle rumbles and drum rolls, it’s also a solo high point on the session for Brown who illustrates the theme with crying, evocative tones.

Mixing a blues progression and progressive lyrics in the mold of Max Roach’s and Charles Mingus’ 1960s militancy, “Soledad” gains its unmistakable power from the sincerity in Conquest’s voice, which in turn humanizes Parker’s lyrics no matter how far-fetched or obscurely poetic. Barnes’ high-pitched obbligatos provide perfect counterpoint to the singer’s warbling, yodeling and soulful groans.

Each of these outstanding discs provides an opportunity to sample the work of two artists – Parker and Conquest – in full maturity. All are worthy of your time.

-- Ken Waxman

.

Track Listing: Inside: 1. The Makings Of You 2. People Get Ready 3. Inside Song #1 4. We Are The People Who Are Darker Than Blue 5. Spoken Introduction 6. Think 7. Freddie’s Dead

Personnel: Inside: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Daryl Foster (soprano and tenor saxophones); Sabir Mateen (tenor and alto saxophones); Dave Burrell (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums); Leena Conquest (voice) and Amiri Baraka (voice and poetry)

Track Listing: Alphaville: 1. Alphaville Main Theme 2. Journey to the End of the Night 4. Natasha’s Theme I 5. Interrogation 6. Alpha 60 7. Oceanville Evening 8. Civilization of Light 9. Outlands 10. Natasha’s Theme II

Personnel: Alphaville: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Mazz Swift (violin); Jessica Pavone (viola); Julia Kent and Shiau-Shu Yu (cellos); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

Track Listing: Corn: 1. Doctor Yesterday 2. Tutsi Orphans 3. Poem for June Jordan 4. Soledad 5. Corn Meal Dance 6. Land Song 7. Prayer 8. Old Tears 9. Gilmore’s Hat

Personnel: Corn: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Eri Yamamoto (piano); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) and Leena Conquest (voice)

March 28, 2008

Steve Swell’s Fire Into Music

Swimming in a Galaxy of Goodwill and Sorrow
Rogue Art ROG-0009

Showcasing four major players operating at the top of their game, this nearly 73- minute CD is a pulsating and passionate essay on top-flight composition and improvisation that stays fully in the present while subtly referencing the past. Most pieces feature expected call-and-response from the horns, and the heads are nearly always recapped.

With his ability to articulate J. J. Johnson-style runs as effortlessly as he finesses Classic Jazz inflected tremolo slurs, trombonist Steve Swell, who wrote two-thirds of the tracks, builds many of them on the contrapuntal contrast between his solid timbres and the astringent trills of veteran alto saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc. As their intertwined output explores the spectrum of extended techniques, the tunes’ fundamental rhythmic shape is maintained by bassist William Parker. With that function solidified, drummer Hamid Drake – who may, along with the bassist, be the most recorded advanced jazz player of this century – pops and ruffs his drums, whacks wood blocks and generally elasticizes the beat.

Although Parker offers a mournful arco intro to “For Arthur Williams”, in contrast his four-square, double-and-triple stopping provides the bottom on “For Grachan”, Swell’s swinging blues honoring older trombonist Grachan Moncur III. Each quartet member shines on the 17-minute title tune, which is initially squeezed back-and-forth by unaccompanied horns, then slinkily torqued with the entry of the rhythm section. Braying plunger trombone tones, nasal reed spits and bell-pealing propel the mid-range pitch variations that reflect the title.

-- Ken Waxman

-- For CODA Issue 336

December 4, 2007

Hamid Drake & Bindu

Bindu
RogueArt ROG-0001

With the ensemble and the CD entitled Bindu, an Indian concept that signifies action as in worship or prayer, you know that this almost 75-minute, eight-track CD is not going to be a standard blowing session.

A further look at the personnel confirms this. Leader Hamid Drake plays drums, percussion and tabla, while the other participants are four saxophonists – Daniel Carter and Sabir Mateen from New York; and Greg Ward and Ernest Dawkins from Chicago –

plus Windy City flautist Nicole Mitchell. The reason why the CD is not wholly satisfying however is that the date is segmented: harder, fast-paced riff pieces featuring the reed players and two devotional pieces, the lengthiest of the set.

Moving among his extended percussion kit, which ranges from J. Arthur Rank-like gongs to regular snares, cymbals and floor toms and on to sound makers that resemble congas, bongos, djembes and batás, Drake manipulates and maneuvers them to confirm why his rhythmic aptitude is in demand literally throughout the world. Yet the result may be more inspirational for those who worship at the alters of Paiste and Sonar etc. than those seeking a group identity from Bindu. There’s also a short prelude to this display of spiritual percussion placed midway on the disc.

Similarly, in fact, the lead off track finds Mitchell at variance with the other players. Sticking to complementary hand and palm modulated rhythms, with African echoes, the percussionist only allows the flutist full range for her improvisations. Moving between mostly legit-sounding trills and sometimes raggedy duple-toned timbres, Mitchell proves that her traverse mastery is on the level of Drake’s percussion chops. Together the two oscillate space filling tones that speed up and slow down as she showcases Pan-flute like reverberations, piccolo-shrill double tones and harsh, almost electronically altered overblowing with the same facility.

Regrettably those instrumental stunners seem to be designed for a different CD than the five tracks with Carter, Mateen, Ward and Dawkins. Honoring some of Drake’s heroes such as tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson and drummer Ed Blackwell most of the action takes place with distinctive, vamping call-and-response trills plus outward sounding vibrations from all the horns as the drummer pitter patters on conga and other diminutive parts of his kit.

Most memorable is the consecutive “Bindu #1 for Ed Blackwell” and “Bindu #1 for Ed Blackwell, from Bindu to Ojas”. Despite the mystical trappings of the title, both contain the sort of funky, pared-to-the-bone riffing that wouldn’t have been unfamiliar to Count Basie’s or any other Southwestern territory band reed section. Off-kilter foot-tappers, they highlight irregular vibrated split tones and glottal punctuates from one altoist, double tongued, overblown honks from one of the tenorists and intense ornamentation from a clarinetist as Drake supplies triple-metered Africanized beats.

Unhappily none of the soloists are identified, which is a drawback when four of the horn men play alto saxophone, three tenor and two clarinet. Only Matten stands out because of his guttural chanting screaming and yodeling on the second tune.

Drake’s major devotional and rhythmic statement has many fine moments scattered among the eight tracks here. But those who prefer the music a bit more chordal and cerebral associations will have to live with disappointments.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Remembering Rituals* 2. Bindu #1 for Baba Fred Anderson+ 3. A Prayer for the Bardo, for Baba Mechack Silas+ 4. Meeting and Parting+ 5. Born Upon a Lotus 6 Bindu #1 for Ed Blackwell+ 7. Bindu #1 for Ed Blackwell, from Bindu to Ojas+ 8. Do Khyentse’s Journey, 139 Years and More

Personnel: Daniel Carter (tenor and alto saxophone and clarinet)+; Greg Ward (alto saxophone and clarinet)+; Ernest Dawkins (tenor and alto saxophone and percussion) +; Sabir Mateen (tenor and alto saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet and voice); Nicole Mitchell (flute)*; Hamid Drake (drums, percussion, tabla and voice)

November 10, 2006

Kidd Jordan/Hamid Drake/William Parker

Palm of Soul
AUM Fidelity AUM038

Temporarily and involuntarily away from his home in the Big Easy due to Hurricane Katrina, tenor saxophonist Kidd Jordan’s playing is more meditative than usual – although just as inspired – on this exceptional trio CD

Partnered by improv’s busiest rhythm section – New York bassist William Parker and Chicago percussionist Hamid Drake – Jordan, who for many years has not only been New Orleans’ most accomplished Free improviser, but often it’s only one, bring a lifetime of studied iconoclasm to the seven compositions here. Cerebral as well as fiery, he knows how to adjust his solid mid-register glottal punctuation and reverberated split tones for maximum impact. Always straightforward – although not straightahead – his improvising includes dirge-like atonal contrafacts of Crescent City classics like “Lonely Avenue” and “The Saints”.

With Parker vibrating gongs and bowls and Drake manipulating frame drum and tabla, Palm of Soul takes on World Music implications. Yet Jordan’s emotional force is such that he subordinates these elements to the honks and slurs that issue from his horn, just as pop and R&B inferences have been individualized during his 50 years as a performer and teacher.

Ignore the comic title, for “Last of the Chicken Wings” most clearly illuminates his reed characteristics. With the others accompanying him percussively, the entire middle section is taken up by the saxophonist using irregular and intense vibrato to experiment with endless possibilities and permutations of the reed line, finally completing the piece with the perfect tongue flourish.

-- Ken Waxman

CODA Issue 329

October 16, 2006

ASSIF TSAHAR/COOPER-MOORE/HAMID DRAKE

Lost Brother
Hopscotch Records HOP 33

LOST BROTHER seems to be a misnomer, at least if it’s supposed to apply to any of the performers on this trio CD. For if any one of Chicago drummer Hamid Drake and New Yorkers, reedist Assif Tsahar and multi-instrumentalist Cooper-Moore, was ever a “lost brother” he’s certainly found himself as evidenced by this CD. Furthermore so collaborative is their improvising here that you’d think that the three are reuniting musical siblings.

In truth the Israeli-born Tsahar, Louisiana-born Drake and the Virginia-born Cooper-Moore met and first played together as adults. All have extensive recording histories – especially Drake, who seems to have played with nearly every musician from A (Sardinian guitarist Paolo Angeli) to Z (Chicago percussionist Michael Zerang) – and each of the other two has recorded in duo with Tsahar. But this is the three players’ first trio session, with the nine instant compositions giving each enough space in which to express himself. Each is proficient on more than one instrument. Tsahar plays both tenor saxophone and bass clarinet; Drake drums, tablas and frame drums, and Cooper-Moore ashimba, twanger and diddley-bow.

It’s the last who sets the tone for many of the tracks, for the unique timbres of his home-made and Africanized instruments add polyrhythmic lilts to his output. With the twanger for instance, it often sounds as if he’s playing rockabilly guitar and backbeat percussion simultaneously. Then on “The Coming of the Ship”, he wields the one-string diddley bow with the dexterity of a jazz or classical bassist and manages to pull as many tones out of it as those folks would from their carefully tempered four strings.

This piece features raspy tenor sax obbligatos from Tsahar, who alternates among road house-like slurs, watery reed squeaks and glottal tongue stretching – and does so whenever he solos here. Each style fits the particular mood. For instance, the reedist blares ratcheting lines on “Breaking the Water” that eventually work into double counterpoint with Cooper-Moore’s twanger. Somehow at this point though, Cooper-Moore processes his contraption so that its pulsations resemble both rubberized tones and electronic impulses.

Drake’s traps set the backbeat effortlessly that underlines the rhythm on this track and others, but just as easily he can trade the bounces and rebounds of his regular kit for tablas on “Dugong the Sea Cow” or frame drum on “Confessions”. On the former Cooper-Moore’s ashima joins with Drake’s pulsations for a double shot of percussion. As the palm slaps multiply and adapt complementary vibrations, Tsahar’s robust bass clarinet tone thins and becomes more atonal. On the later tune, the reedy authority of the bloated licorice stick isn’t challenged as the polyrhythmic ratchets from the percussionists showcase these surging reed lines.

Some of the song titles appear to relate to Africans’ experience in the middle passage during slavery time, which gives additional significance to the mix of contemporary and primitive instruments. Yet whether you view LOST BROTHER as an allegorical or practical application of improvisationary techniques, it remains an outstanding CD.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Breaking the Water 2. A Falling Leaf 3. Departure 4. Dugong the Sea Cow 5. Seeking the Punto Fijo 6. Confessions 7. The Coming of the Ship 8. The Shepherd 9. Goin’ Home

Personnel: Assif Tsahar (tenor saxophone and bass clarinet); Cooper-Moore (ashimba, twanger and diddley-bow); Hamid Drake (drums, tablas and frame drum

April 17, 2006

Abs (.) Hum

No Heroes
Tiramizu Triacd

Angeli/Drake
Uotha
Nu Bop Records

Korber/Rowe/Müller
Fibre
For4Ears

The London Electric Guitar Orchestra
Sticks and Stones
2:13 Music

Jozef van Wissem
Objects in Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear
BVHaast

By Ken Waxman
April 10, 2006

Strings in multiples sets are the focus of these CDs, which match electronics to traditional instruments in programs that in most cases could only be created in the 21st Century. Featuring musicians from five European countries and the United States, they also suggest that globalism can be beneficial – when it involves sounds rather than commercial trade. All the discs feature strings manipulated in different fashions, although the majority of musicians are playing some variation of the world’s most popular string set – the guitar.

Sticks and Stones highlights all that can be done with the six-string, when the 11 [!] members of the British-based London Electric Guitar Orchestra (L.E.G.O.) combine forces. Even more sound-oriented, Fibre matches up the six-string guitars and electronics of Zürich-based Thomas Korber and Keith Rowe of the United Kingdom with the ipod and electronics of Günther Müller of Itingen Switzerland; while Uotha is a first-time meeting between Chicago drummer Hamid Drake and Sardinian Paolo Angeli, whose cello-sized, guitar from North Sardinia, has extra strings and a bridge and is played with either fingers or a bow.

More minimally, Amsterdam-based Jozef van Wissem extends the timbres of his 10-course lute with electronics and pre-recorded airfield sounds on Objects in Mirror are Closer than They Appear. Finally, showcasing the most labor-saving method of preparing an instrument, No Heroes features both Charles-Henry Beneteau and Christophe Havard from St-Nazaire, France playing the same guitar, remotely controlled with a computer and mixer and extended with installations.

Concentrating many of the machine or man-made vibrations and pulsations that a full-sized electro-acoustic band would display, the 10-year-old L.E.G.O. runs through three semi-improvised/semi-notated tracks in less than 20 minutes. An augmentation of many of the sonic experiments art schools lecturer and conductor John Bisset has advanced with only one guitar partner – Alex Ward – or German drummer Burkhard Beins, the buzzing, clinking, tapping and slack key effects create one 66-string instrument, that here is played by Christopher Evans, Simon Williams, Perry, Viv Dogan Corringham, Michael Rogers, Ivor Kallin, Nigel Teers and Jon Lever; plus Jem Finer and Darryl Hunt of the Pogues band, as well as Bisset.

Extending ring modulator whooshes, delay, zooms and drones, the massed strings can sometimes be so overwhelming that they nearly suck all the available air from the compositions. Recurrent tremolo whammy-bar excursions and modulated feedback buzzes make things even more claustrophobic. Alternately by attaching alligator clips or raising the strings horizontally, then using knitting needles, the massed plectrumists produce bell-ringing, aviary-styled chirps that scramble upwards from metallic scrapes and widely-spaced harmonized strokes to whines and flanges. At times, as well, chromatic licks that could come from old-timey banjos are transformed into slurred finger picking and superseded by steady rasgueado strums – then reprised in different combinations.

Related to this sort of guitar retuning and rethinking but on a micro scale are Abs (.) Hum and Korber/Rowe/Müller, whose conceptions resemble one another’s. A maximum of two guitarists are involved in Fibre and No Heroes, with both aggregations using electronics and distinctive preparations to create wave forms that rarely relate to standard guitar sounds. A self-described tinkerer, who recorded on soprano and tenor saxophones with Rowe and the members of AMM, Havard has found the perfect partner for guitar à distance in the initially self-taught Beneteau, whose background encompasses rock, blues and multi-guitar chamber music.

Using small engines, and chord-pulling-initiated vibrations and tension, the two players glide among the strings without colliding with one another, diffusing distorted tones that range from walloped drones to bell-like sideband whooshes. Using delay for repeated effects, at points Havard and Beneteau resonate folksy strums ad infinitum and build up to jet plane-like quivering resonance elsewhere. Sometimes electronically triggered facsimiles of sounded timbres are immediately mixed with primary signals so the number of phantom guitarists multiples as well. Sharp, near ear-piercing noises shrill as do pseudo-cymbal cracks. When these blend with concentrated buzzes and drones, the texture suggested is that of a constantly revolving dust-encrusted turntable.

In spite of piezo pickups isolating individual string tones and split-second sound loops, flat-picked tones and palm-tapped string distortions are audible as well as are staccato finger-picking not to mention constantly rotating rasgueado rubs and associated echoes. The coarse overlay from the preparations allow triggered loops of sound to disappear, then appear and augment in volume and intensity until the two human performers subside into infrequent metallic clanking.

Linked even more to electronic fluttering and delays, Fibre extends first-generation electro-acoustic diagnostics from Rowe, whose playing partners have ranged from percussionist Beins to British saxophonist Evan Parker and Müller, who has partnered the Swiss cracked everyday-electronic band Voice Crack and British soundsinger Phil Minton among many others, with concepts from 27-year-old computer scientist Korber, whose collaborators range from ex-Voice Cracker Norbert Möslang to Japanese no-input-mixing-board specialist Toshimaru Nakamura.

During the course of two 20-minute and one shorter track, triggered sequences and droned static often complicate and stabilize the results, nearly stripping them of all string references. One example is the second track which, like the others, is untitled. Broadened with envelopes of buzzing motor-driven twists plus percolating watery billows, these high-pitched almost inaudible squeaks are resequenced into bell-ringing and thumping pulsations. More than half-way through, a single guitar chord reverberates as fingers slide up-and-down the strings only to have dial-twisting radio static – most likely from Rowe – divide the ensuing textures into faint drones.

Another echoing guitar chord and the occasional chromatic thumb picks characterize the primary scene-setting of the third track. But generated sounds accumulated from Müller’s ipod and the others’ electronics soon transform into dense, near hisses and pulsations, solid enough to slide up against immovable objects of equal hardness. Conclusively, a single organ-like chord subsumed all other noises into watery drones which eventually become a regularized sequence of gradually fading, well-spaced pings.

Comparing Objects in Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear to these other sessions makes its10 brief tracks appear to be a mixture of musique concrète and the early multi-string experimentations of non-jazz guitarists like Sandy Bull and John Fahey. Using backwards reading palindromes, repetitive flat-picking and flamenco-like strumming as his base, van Wissem adds loudspeaker announcements, passenger cross talk and luggage car wheel squeaks to his double-picked bass string passages – and inserts supplementary tension with percussive whacks. Using fretting hand pressure to vibrate nylon-string squeaks, by the conclusion he has reshuffled his string resonation in such a way that found sounds and created notes are nearly indistinguishable.

Percussionist Drake – the one non-string player featured on all these albums – constructs distinctive responses to anything Angeli’s mammoth strummed and stroked guitar can create during Uotha. Considering Drake’s musical associates have ranged over the spectrum of powerful and individualistic players from German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann to New York bassist William Parker, there’s little doubt that he wouldn’t have been equally unfazed by Abs (.) Hum and Korber/Rowe/Müller’s electronics, van Wissem’s palindromes and all of L.E.G.O.’s 11 guitarists improvising simultaneously.

Not that he isn’t willing to cooperate with the Sardinian guitarist. Especially instructive is “The Many Faces of the Beloved”, which features Drake chanting and rattling a frame drum in response to Angeli’s bowed cello-like continuo plus the plucking of multiple strings. In this case, undercurrents link Sardinian, Arabic-tinged sounds to North African memories present in Drake’s solos. As the American vocalizes, the surrounding musical gestalt is transformed in such a way that Drake could be playing a bata and Angeli a 21-string kora. The guitarist’s double-stopped accents easily complement the drumming, and introduce finger-picked vamps when Drake harshly vibrates his lathed cymbals.

Pieces such as “Fuga dal Mouse” and “Specchi d’Arancia”, may have traditional sounding titles. Yet resonating chromatic guitar lines and sharp bowed arpeggios augment to winging, Jimi Hendrix-like feedback as the drummer rams and plops intense flams and ruffs hard beats from his kit. While Drake’s American background can’t – and won’t – deny a jazz history, except for the odd, perhaps inadvertent quote, the guitarist stays clear of that music. Nor, despite an extended section of authentic-sounding chant-vocalizing mixed with string-snapping picks from Angeli is this unaltered ethnic music disc.

Instead, the end result is yet another example of the adoption of new patterns and new thinking to the playing of conventional stringed instruments. This leitmotif unites all these sessions.

April 10, 2006

WILLIAM PARKER

Luc's Lantern
Thirsty Ear THI 57158.2

WILLIAM PARKER QUARTET
Sound Unity
Aum Fidelity Aum 034

Conventional and unconventional sounds reflecting the improvisational and compositional talents of New York bassist William Parker, both these CDs are noteworthy. What's most surprising though is that the unconventional one is LUC'S LANTERN. Known as one of the prime movers in New York's avant-garde scene, Parker is still able to create a session that could have been put out by such classic 1960s piano trios as Ahmad Jamal's, Bill Evans's or Oscar Peterson's. It's unconventional in its very conventionality.

More expected, but in truth conventional only if you're very familiar with Free Jazz, SOUND UNITY features the bassman's quartet working out on six exciting tracks recorded live in Montreal and Vancouver. Even though the compositions nod powerfully to Ornette Coleman's legendary 1960s' quartet, they, along with Coleman's work, are really modern mainstream, no matter what musical neo-cons tell you.

Ranging from slightly more than eight to more than 21 minutes, the selections are stylish and graceful. Taking the Coleman comparison a bit further, Parker's measured pacing allow him to assay Charlie Haden's role, while trumpeter Lewis Barnes and alto saxophonist Rob Brown - who both also play in the bassist's Little Huey orchestra - become an updated Don Cherry and a Coleman respectively. However Chicago-based Hamid Drake, who sometimes appears to work with half the improv bands on the planet, is the wild card in the bunch. Sure his drumming is sympathetic, but his power is such that comes across like a combination of Billy Higgins and Ed Blackwell, who split drum duties with Coleman.

Less famous than Drake, Michael Thompson who occupies the drum chair on LUC'S LANTERN holds his own when dealing with Parker's stentorian bass playing. That shouldn't be a surprise, since he's worked in combos with the likes of Parker associate, trumpeter Roy Campbell, and reedist Joe Giardullo. This CD's surprising component comes from pianist Eri Yamamoto, usually heard in certified mainstream settings. A native of Kyoto, Japan, Yamamoto has lived in New York City 1996, and on the faculty of The Mannes College of Music. Someone who has worked with other powerful bassists such as Ron McClure and Reggie Workman, her playing here encompasses the impressionism of Bill Evans and the swing and technique of a clutch of hard bop key thumpers.

In a way, this pianistic link to earlier time is quite appropriate to the CD, for some of the 10 Parker compositions honor fallen jazz heroes such as pianists Jaki Byard and Bud Powell, bassist Scotty Holt, and saxophonists Charles Tyler and Booker Ervin.

Not that there's any attempt to recreate anyone's style. As a matter of fact, Parker and Yamamoto throw a monkey wrench into hearing this as a tribute CD, most notably on "Bud in Alphaville". Not only are her hard octave downshifts and double timing key clips closer to Monk than Powell, but the title and accompanying poem reference director Jean Luc Goddard's film Alphaville. Goddard and Powell may have concurrently inhabited Paris, but there's no jazz music in his films.

There's plenty of jazz on this CD though. Often operating contrapuntally, Parker and Thompson could be a bop rhythm section - the bassist walking and the drummer playing a backbeat. But few boppers had the same command of woody spiccato runs that the bassist exhibits, plus the ability to ruffle and sluice patterns up and down his strings sul ponticello. Furthermore, in response to or accompanied by Parker's unvarying pulse and Yamamoto's metronomic note clusters, the drummer often easily lets loose with a post bop romp of dedicated rolls, flams and paradiddles with extra flashy hi hat accents.

Preeminently her own woman, Yamamoto has enough command of jazz's piano literature to streak from one series of near tributes to another - usually within the same piece. Tunes like "Song For Tyler" bring out Evans-like lush voicing and soft glissandi, although she explores the piano's upper quadrants with foreshortened note patterns as effectively as the New Thing saxophonist did with his horn. Meanwhile the title tune features pseudo Peterson-like runs and stabbing note cascades that migrate from Herbie Nichols'style. Channeling McCoy Tyner, she easily counters Parker's hard and heavy bass work with organic patterning into additional overtones.

It's the same with "Mourning Sunset", as her built up key clusters with chordal color start to resemble "All Blues". As Thompson breaks up the time with ratamacues and opposite sticking, and Parker fuses a repeated bass line, her high frequency dynamics turns to taciturn, softer variations.

No one could accuse the Parker Four of being soft and taciturn on "Harlem" and "Groove", - the almost onomatopoeic riffs that conclude SOUND UNITY. Bluesy rhythm tunes that belie the so-called avant garde's reputation for solemnity, the two centre on rock-solid, resonating bass work from Parker and cross sticking and soft-shoe-like rim shots from Thompson. As for the front line, Barnes' choked, dirty pecks could come from Rex Stewart or Roy Eldridge. Meanwhile Brown's pitch vibrations and slurs plus dangling, flutter-tongued altissimo tones go back past Coleman's cries to the country blues that inspired early jazz. Modernly moderato and impassioned polyphonic at the same time, Brown has rarely played better on record.

Earlier on, those Coleman echoes intensify with the head of "Wood Flute Song" sounding like "Focus on Sanity", as Barnes and Brown operate in double counterpoint, resolutely moving up the scale in unison. A short boppy smear inaugurates the shakes Barnes puts into his solo, while Brown squeals irregular vibrations that intensify rather than detract from the tune. Here and elsewhere the bassist directs the beat like a captain navigating a boat through choppy water, as Drake's splash cymbal, hi-hat coloring and snare and bass drum whacks agitate the waters and speed up the tempo.

Balladically Barnes contributes portamento grace note and Brown tongue stops and slurs to other numbers, yet the quartet's stance is so fixed and forceful that story-telling attributes aren't lost no matter the pitch or tempo,

Of course, all these are preludes or postludes to the 21-minute title track. With the main theme set up by Parker's unvarying pulsation plus paradidles, ruffs and cymbal cross sticking from Drake, the first of its variations ping-pong between Brown's stabbing Jackie McLean-like tone and Barnes' speedy hummingbird-like brass bites. Subsequently open horned with comfortable middle-range grace notes, Barnes halves the tempo for his own melody. Thick slurs from Brown interrupt, then lead to mirrored note patterns, first from the trumpeter, then the altoist. Riffing softly behind the bassist, they then yield centrestage to the bassist whose stentorian layering brings out both the designated note and its reverberating nodes. As the horn blowing increases in volume, Drake cross sticks on his toms and snares, reverberates his cymbals with industrial strength and pounds martially. Walking, Parker reprises the theme, aided by trilling alto and muted trumpet until the tune is suddenly cut off.

You won't have to do that as long as you keep playing these CDs. Most valuable for the Parker follower, individually and together they will impress everyone, whether the music's thought of as conventional or unconventional.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Sound: 1. Hawaii 2. Wood Flute Song 3. Poem for June Jordan 4. Sound Unity 5. Harlem 6. Groove

Personnel: Sound: Lewis Barnes (trumpet); Rob Brown (alto saxophone); William Parker (bass) and Hamid Drake (drums)

Track Listing: Luc's: 1. Adena 2. Song For Tyler 3. Mourning Sunset 4. Evening Star Song 5. Luc's Lantern 6. Jaki 7. Bud in Alphaville 8. Charcoal Flower 9. Phoenix 10. Candlesticks on the Lake

Personnel: Luc's: Eri Yamamoto (piano); William Parker (bass); Michael Thompson (drums)

September 19, 2005

DAVID S. WARE

Live in the World
Thirsty Ear THI 57153.2

David S. Ware doesn’t shy away from the Free Jazz label. Unlike some contemporary improvisers who say they play Free Music and treat jazz the way nouveau riche yuppies view acquaintances still wearing last year’s clothes, the tenor saxophonist esteems the tradition that goes back through 1960s New Thing to take in distinctive reed stylists such as Sonny Rollins and before that Coleman Hawkins.

This three-CD set of live performances helps stake his claim as one of the foremost jazz tenor saxophone stylist in the 21st century. Made up of one 1998 Swiss concert and two Italian gigs from 2003, it features three different drummers: the band’s former trapsperson, Susie Ibarra; its present one Guillermo E. Brown; and Hamid Drake, the gentleman from Chicago who often plays with the quartet’s longtime bassist William Parker. Ware’s tough love jazz values are such that they run roughshod over any tendency towards electronica or world music in which some of the other players have indulged at other times. The three hours of music also confirm Ware’s status as a major league jazzer.

Key statement here is the first disc and two additional tracks from the same session on discs two and three that couldn’t have been squeezed onto CD1. By the time it ends, the Ware-Parker-Ibarra-pianist Matthew Shipp four has fused into an indivisible unit of improvisational skill, sort of like the Modern Jazz Quartet or John Coltrane’s classic quartet with McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones. Here and on the other CDs, Shipp demonstrates that in the right situation his jazz credentials are fully in order and his comping and pianisms perfectly mesh with the rest; ditto for Parker’s rasping and rhythmic double bass underpinning.

Somewhat constrained by the band’s heavy jazz orientation, Ibarra’s use of offbeat and miscellaneous percussion still confirms that she offered the most varied percussion response to the others’ testosterone-fuelled playing. Drake, whose experience with Chicago veterans like tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson allows him to mix the unexpected with heavy time keeping is also a fine addition. Brown, a beat-meister does his job thoroughly and competently.

His powerful yet commonplace rhythmic work is why CD3 is the weakest of the three discs. Although the lengthening and recasting of Rollins’ “Freedom Suite” are noteworthy, especially for Shipp’s high-frequency gospellish piano work, the four tracks are most impressive to “Suite” virgins. Ware recorded his definitive studio version of the suite for AUM Fidelity (AUM 023) that same year, and the necessity for the preservation of a live version is somewhat louche. Rollins himself only recorded the original once.

Back to the Swiss date however, and the almost 32-minute “Aquarian Sound”. Pivoting on Parker’s walking, modal fills from Shipp, and steady cymbal clinks and bouncing bass drum beats from Ibarra, Ware initially enters mimicking the rhythmic backbeat. Soon, however, he pushes himself into double-tonguing glossolalia, encompassing a swelling crescendo of resonating honks and reverberating blasts. Depending on extended variation provided by sonorous bass thumps, Shipp begins to vigorously voice patterns that seem to draw on Herbie Hancock’s freebop period. Shipp’s dramatic voicing extend the music even further, sluicing from treble to bass clef without interrupting its vigorous flow, and only gearing down half way through to make space for a low-pitched arco solo of strained, high-pitched motions from Parker that melt into moderato and legato shuffle bowing. Meanwhile, Ibarra is cunningly altering the backing with gourd-shaking, gong-soundings and cymbal claps.

When the head is finally recapitulated, by Ware’s droning tongue stops and Shipp’s stolid heavy chording, she has switched to brisk cross rhythms. This precedes a climatic, extended – and concluding – renal scream from Ware.

Ibarra brings similar inventiveness to “Stargazer”, CD3’s bonus track from 1998 appended to the 2003 material. Except in this case the pianist varies his output as well. Feeding prepared, almost harpsichordic tones or quivering, theremin-like timbres to the composition, Shipp’s foreshortened piano expressions meet up with cymbal cracks, varied patterning on the snares, and crosswise stick thumps. Parker’s penetrating bass lines link these quirks with focused comping from Shipp that resembles mainstream nightclub strategies. On top of all this is Ware’s majestic soling, which creeps in mildly then distends into colossal foghorn-like honks and overblowing, nasally masticating the notes.

For the unconvinced, there’s how Ware recomposes Marvin Hamlisch’s “The Way We Were”, as it morphs from unrecognizable to almost familiar. Low-key rumination, split-tone variations and body-tube blasts a cappella is Ware’s initial strategy, until a few minutes later false register glissandi hints at the melody’s harmonics. With his droning vibrato wide and wider and his use of glottal punctuation and double tonguing referencing Rollin’s and Coltrane’s way with a ballad, by the finale he finally double-times the recognizable tune. His variations may be like the tail wagging the dog, but what a tail it is.

Drake’s interface brings out the Tyner-like modal emphasis in Shipp’s playing, scraping and sawing double-stopped runs from Parker and some of Ware’s most emotional soloing. But considering his cross-handed deliberations hardly let a phrase from the others pass without a flam, rebound or ruff comment, lesser histrionics are really Drake’s forte.

One of those tunes is “Unknown Mansion”, an edifice that seems to have been partially built on the calypso-chanting Caribbean island where Rollins likes to dwell. Varying his beat patterns with doubled smashes and Latinesque prettiness, Drake somehow manages to get the usually dour-sounding Ware to appear as if he’s swinging a Louis Jordan ditty. At one point you can swear you hear the riff from “Open the Door, Richard”. Meantime Shipp is uncoiling cadences that contain Monk-like key clipping and steady, left-handed percussive notes. Harmonically conservative compared to Ibarra’s accompaniment, Drake is as externally directed in his solos. Apparently spanking his toms and snares with his palms, he also horizontally cross patterns a single drum on those same surfaces, while simultaneously propelling the beat with hi-hat and cymbal resonation. Ware, almost mellow, returns to sound broken cadences in tandem with Shipp and provides a clenched-teeth version of the head.

Subsequent tunes like “Sentient Compassion” and “Co Co Cana” may feature harder reed tone and shrill whinnying from Ware, but, possibly because of Drake, his abrasive tone is less than it would be with Brown. On the first he reverberates split tones back and forth, as Parker bows vibrating double stops, bringing out the woodenness of his bass along with the solidity of his strings. Combined, the four produce almost ballad-like twittering lines that echo onto themselves. On the later, Ware’s high-pitched yelps, Drake’s rim shots and Shipp’s high frequency double counterpoint serve as backing for a Parker display. Moving from walking to relay race string action on the fretboard, Parker double stops with masculine power and by the end of his solo has Shipp spinning out circular patterns to sustain his momentum.

LIVE IN THE WORLD is a major achievement in quantitative heft as well as music.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: CD 1: 1. Aquarian Sound 2. Logistic 3. Sentient Compassion 4. Mikuro’s Blues CD 2: 1. Elder’s Path 2. Unknown Mansion 3. Sentient Compassion 4. Co Co Cana 5. Manu’s Ideal 6. Lexicon CD 3 [Freedom Suite]: 1. Part One 2. Part Two 3. Part Three 4. Part Four 5. Stargazer

Personnel: Disc One: David S. Ware (tenor saxophone); Matthew Shipp (piano); William Parker (bass); Susie Ibarra (drums): Disc Two: Ware; Shipp; Parker; Hamid Drake (drums) Disc Three: Ware; Shipp; Parker; Guillermo E. Brown (drums)

September 12, 2005

Ernest Dawkins’ Chicago 12

Misconceptions of a Delusion, Shades of a Charade
Dawk Music Release #04

Designed as a celebration of the 35th Anniversary of the Chicago Seven trial, this nearly 80-minute slice of agitprop avant-garde is as much forward looking as backwards glancing.

Recorded live in Paris in early 2004, the narration voiced by “disco poet” Khari B. recalls the repressed radical anti-war and anti-racist sentiments of the late 1960s, which strike a responsive chord in an audience familiar with similar situations involving the Iraq War. At the same time, composer Ernest Dawkins, who directs but doesn’t play in the 12-piece band, uses this expanded version of his usual quintet to show off some of Chicago’s emerging improvising talents. Considering the AACM, with which all the musicians here are affiliated, was also established in the mid-1960s, the link seems appropriate and apt.

With 10 selections ranging from moderated New Thing lines and Free Jazz miasma to straight Swing, a quasi-Dixieland shuffle and backbeat R&B, the standout soloist is trumpeter Corey Wilkes. Now working with the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the brassman showcases clarion-calling open-horn work, plunger exhibitions and mouthpiece kisses with equal facility. Other memorable sounds come from the fat buttery textures of Norman Palm III’s trombone; from alto saxophonist Greg Ward, whose tone can be half-Hodges and half-Dolphy; from sonorous baritone sax explorer Aaron Getsug, who makes sophisticated use of altissimo alarums; and from pianist Justin Dillard, whose cross-handed dynamics relate to Chicago’s blues, gospel and boogie-woogie history, though he comps as sympathetically as any mainstreamer..

Driven by twin percussion from Dawkins’ regular bandmate Isaiah Spencer plus the inventiveness of peripatetic Hamid Drake, the CD is probably Dawkins’ most realized project. Only at the very end is it weakened by some show-biz flourishes from the singer during the encores the crowd demands after completion of the suite.

-- Ken Waxman

September 7, 2005

HENRY GRIMES TRIO

Live at the Kerava Jazz Festival
Ayler ayl CD-028

Henry Grimes’ rediscovery and return to performing has been one of the pleasant surprises of the 21st Century improv scene. Formerly a shadowy, but respected figure whose sophisticated bass playing made him one of the pioneers of the New Thing, his employers included Cecil Taylor, Sonny Rollins and Albert Ayler.

Returned to active playing action after a 30-year absence – and without literally touching a bass for most of those years – initially his output was diffident and hesitant. However, as the cliché says, practice makes perfect. Honing his chops after a year of steady gigging, this CD proves that Grimes is back in the groove. If nothing else, holding his own for over an hour in concert with two of jazz’s most accomplished and busiest performers – reedist David Murray and percussionist Hamid Drake – parades his undiminished prowess.

Further proof of this can be heard here in his extended strumming and swaying solo that bridges the nearly 26-minute “Eighty Degrees” and Murray’s best-known composition “Flowers for Albert”, honoring Grimes’ old employer Ayler. Stentorian in power, without ever losing the beat, Grimes plucks and double plucks different patterns, variations and chord substitutions. Here his polyrhythms bring forth snorts and swells from Murray and a timekeeping mixture from Drake.

Earlier, Grimes makes his own low-pitched statement of booming counter tones, while Murray, on bass clarinet, meshes his tongue slaps with the bassist’s lowest possible tones. When the tempo doubles one-third of the way through, Murray adds ethereal floating pitches to his honking. Accelerating once again, Drake puts aside the unobtrusive tambourine-on-hi-hat beat for a solo of flams, paradidles, quick rushes and drags on the snares, ride cymbals and hi-hat – plus some bass drum propulsion. Switching to tenor sax, Murray leads Grimes’ thundering strings on a chase that features sluicing irregular vibrations, quick, throaty note scoops and altissimo dog-whistle-like action. At points his dual output is so diametrical that he could be duetting polyphonically with himself.

Interrupted by Grimes’ strumming, these frenzied variations then give way to Murray’s instantly recognizable head, conveyed at a tougher pace by Drake’s cross-sticking rim shots. The composer’s almost impermeable texture of node variation eventually turns to a passage of extended overblowing and then a recapitulation of the theme. Climaxing by decelerating to a leisurely Aylerian march, the performance excites the audience. This building excitement is such, that after two full minutes of applause, the three are forced by the audience to encore with a hand-clapping boppish blues with a faint Monkish cast.

All and all, it’s safe to say Grimes is back at the height of his powers, while Murray and Drake aren’t missing any talent themselves.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Spin 2. Eighty Degrees 3. Flowers for Albert 4. Blues for Savannah

Personnel: David Murray (tenor saxophone and bass clarinet); Henry Grimes (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

May 2, 2005

EVAN PARKER TRIO & PETER BRÖTZMANN TRIO

The Bishop’s Move
VICTO cd 093

A extraordinary face off between veteran improv titans or as they prefer to say at the Victoriaville festival, un première mondiale, this meeting combines British saxophonist Evan Parker’s touring group with German reedist Peter Brötzmann’s Northern American band. More of a rapprochement than a battle royal, the 73½-minute session, recorded live at Quebec’s Festival International de Musique Actuelle de Victoriaville in 2003 categorically accentuates the similarities rather than the differences between the two improv power trios.

Could it be otherwise? Although Parker is famous for highly technical extended reed techniques like everlasting circular breathing, and Brötzmann is portrayed as the emotional, heart-on-his-sleeve Free Jazzer, they’ve collaborated at various times since the late 1960s. Parker, for instance, is on the German saxophonist’ seminal MACHINE GUN session in 1968. Brötzmann’s association with German pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach, here officially as part of the Parker band, goes back even further and is more intense, since the two were initial members of the Globe Unity Orchestra. Parker recorded with New York bassist William Parker of Brötzmann’s trio in pianist Cecil Taylor European Orchestra in 1988. Only percussionists Paul Lytton, a Belgium-dwelling-Briton, and Hamid Drake of Chicago don’t have an extended history of playing with members of the other bands or each other. But considering both are among the most prominent on-call drummer in the global improv scene, connections have long been made.

That said, while “The Bishop’s Move” is a notable piece of high-intensity improv, there are only patches of interaction between members of the different trios, let alone among all six musicians at once. Customarily one threesome plays alone, followed by another triad grouping. Most of the time its Von Schlippenbach’s characteristic solos cum accompaniment that bridge the gap between both bands, especially when reed extravagance is highlighted.

Both woodwind players widen the playing field with distinctive slurs and snorts, after the initial Brötzmann renal explosion commences the onslaught. Shortly after the primary statement though, Parker’s trio takes centrestage. Mixing the saxman’s slurring, quacking counter tones and irregular vibrations with the pianist’s contrasting keyboard dynamics and high intensity fantasia of splayed notes, the section turns on Lytton’s pinpointed shattering clatter. Shadowing Parker -- his playing partner of 30-odd years -- the drummer uses cymbal snaps and snare rumbles to modulate the saxophonist’s timbres from elongated, repetitive snarls to the whorls and sprints of circular breathing.

Unexpectedly the pianist’s low frequency tremolos and descending runs not only reinforces a less programmed approach from Parker, but also help orchestrate a Free Jazz, rather than Free Music orientation. With the reedist pitch-vibrating and tongue-stopping, the three display triple counterpoint, each expressing complementary but very separate lines.

Von Schlippenbach’s resounding recoils from the piano innards test the instrument’s balanced tension and abrasively signal Brötzmann’s entry, first with a broken counter line to Parker, then almost immediately, with screaming altissimo and extenuated smeary honks. Power chording from the pianist also overcomes the faint thump of Parker’s bass, until Drake’s ratcheting snares and the pop of hollow percussion moves the sound into the other trio’s corner. Abrasively stroking his hourglass-shaped djembe and other surfaces with sandpaper-like swipes, Drake’s interlude, coupled with an interjection of metronomic arpeggios from the pianist, sets up the German reedist’s utilization of the tarogato for oddly accented, serpentine lines. Added to this is constant ascending pressure points from the bassist.

After Brötzmann’s distinctive choked screams and triple-tongued action finally brings out a split-second of screaming flattement from Parker’s sax, the German-American trio reconfigures itself. Drake’s African-oriented cavernous djembe reverberations serve as the perfect counterweight to the mellow, European-oriented chirrups Brötzmann produces from his clarinet. True to his reputation however, the German reedist is soon exploring the register above coloratura, making incursions to nephritic territory. When he quiets down though, hearty, iron-fingered pizzicato plucking is evident along with restrained portamento color.

Climax is reached as both saxophonists display their idiosyncratic tenor tones, the German snorting and the Briton flutter-tonguing. On top of the bassist’s shuffle spiccato and Drake’s cross sticking, they draw closer together, ejaculating screaming overtones that wouldn’t have been out of place in the militant days of 1968. Egged on by

dynamic patterns from Von Schlippenbach, the two echo one another’s note-placement in the instant composition’s penultimate minutes, with the finale a cross patterning of the pianist’s cadenzas and restrained breaths from the saxophones that fade to dead silence.

Subsequent tumultuous applause characterizes how exciting the ride has been, with only crotchety reviewers eager for more distinct trio interaction.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. The Bishop’s Move

Personnel: Evan Parker (soprano and tenor saxophones); Peter Brötzmann (tenor saxophone, tarogato, a-clarinet); Alexander Von Schlippenbach (piano); William Parker (bass); Paul Lytton (drums and percussion); Hamid Drake (drums, djembe and percussion)

March 28, 2005

FRED ANDERSON/HAMID DRAKE

Back Together Again
Thrill Jockey thrill 139

Thirty years after they first played together Chicago-based tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson and drummer Hamid Drake have finally got around to recording a duo session.

Fuelled by the flexible sophistication of the percussionist and the homebody maturity of Anderson, there are many fine passages throughout. But as good as it gets, the limitations of hearing only one saxophone and a drummer over more than 72½-minutes -- plus an additional CD that includes a QuickTime movie -- are apparent.

Known as the lone prophet of the Prairie, Anderson, a founder of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians in the 1960s, kept a low profile for many years. Although he has led bands since that time, it’s only in the past decade that Anderson, and the Velvet Lounge bar he runs on the city’s near South Side have become internationally known.

Many of his earlier bands were almost workshops for developing talent and his most promising discovery was Drake. Although born in Anderson’s hometown, Monroe, La., the drummer was younger than Anderson’s sons were when he finally hooked up with the older man in Chicago. His versatility in all forms of music has since led to Drake becoming an in-demand percussionist internationally. His associations range from kora player Foday Musa Suso, sintar player Hassan Hakmoun, German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann plus longtime connections with reedist Ken Vandermark and New York bassist William Parker.

Here Drake’s game plan involves outlays of cross-sticking, inverted sticking, bounces, flams, ruffs and rebounds on the regular kit, as well as an extended workout on the resonating frame drum.

It’s his work on that primitive instrument, highlighted on “Lama Khyenno (Dearly Beloved)”, that’s most illustrative of the connections and separateness of the two men. For almost 13 minutes, Drake coaxes a variety of echoes and vibrations out of the large hand drum, chanting and whispering as he manipulates the single drum skin. While keeping the ratcheting beat, the percussionist’s outlay is undeniably mystical, not imitation Third World, the way some jazzbos have approached these sorts of sounds.

While Drake follows his muse, Anderson, whose duo drum partners encompass Robert Barry and Kahil El’Zabar, spins out breathy obbligatos that give as much shape to the other’s lines, as if he was backing up a Billie Holiday ballad, not an ancient chant.

“Black Woman”, which Anderson first recorded in the mid-1990s with a quartet featuring Drake, is another standout. With the saxman’s spiky melody made even starker with minimalist backing, Drake contributes hi-hat splatters and bass drum thumps, while the theme picks up a certain chant-like elaboration.

The older man’s hard and austere texture, with its echoes of 1960s Sonny Rollins, is still flexible enough to adapt when Drake’s hand drumming begins sounding as if he’s whaling a Native Indian drum. Other places Anderson’s repetitions and pitch vibrations often push the younger man into New Thing-like door-knocking rhythms and rim shots.

A shared background may be why the aptly named “Louisiana Strut” appears to shift from calypso to Zydeco. But it’s not the only place Drake plays a shimmy. His shuffle rhythm is so authentic he could be playing at a country dance, while Anderson’s flutter tonguing repeats the same lilting phrases. Putting aside so-called modernism he follows Drake’s flams and hi-hat paradiddles by reprising the melody as the finale.

The almost 14-minute title track points out all the strengths and weaknesses of this dual approach. Although Drake lets loose with beboppy slams and Anderson repeatedly worries phrases with characteristic long-lined but unbending runs, hands, feet and lungs can only produce so many variations. With snorts and glottal stops, Anderson complements Drake’s counter rhythms. Yet by the time the last note is sounded, your aural memory isn’t of the lighter phrases, but of how close this tune sounds to others.

Committed Anderson and Drake fans may ascribe more strength to this singular meeting. Yet the challenges and color of larger combos seem to work better for both.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Leap Forward 2. Black Woman 3. Back Together Again 4. Losel Drolma 5. A Ray from THE ONE 6. Louisiana Strut 7. Know Your Advantage 8. Lama Khyenno (Dearly Beloved)

Personnel: Fred Anderson (tenor saxophone); Hamid Drake (drums)

December 20, 2004

PETER BRÖTZMANN CHICAGO TENTET

Signs
Okkadisk OD 12048

MS4
PETER BRÖTZMANN CHICAGO TENTET
Images
Okkadisk OD 12047

More than five years after it was first organized, German reedist Peter Brötzmann’s mostly Chicago-populated Tentet has become a welcomed presence on the international improv scene.

In the tradition of the Globe Unity Orchestra -- of which Brötzmann was also a member -- the reed-heavy band plays long, involved compositions more concerned with spur of the moment interpretation than elaborate arrangements. Yet, as this matched set of live and studio material demonstrates, the 10-piece band actually sounds best when organized patterns and section work are added to the massed firepower.

Overall, the tentet is most impressive as a full-fledged band. Yet only Ken Vandermark takes full advantage of its varied colors on his more than 37-minute “All Things Being Equal” on IMAGES. Most ambitious and the longest tune on either disc, its overture is made up of gathered horn cadenzas, resonating hand drumming from Hamid Drake and a walking bass line from Kent Kessler. Soon second drummer Michael Zerang pounds out a counter rhythm and, in sections, the brass and reeds pile on top of one another polytonally.

Irregular backing figures from the band, give Joe McPhee’s trumpet the space to push out higher notes with flutter tongue ornamentation. Next up, saxist Mars Williams sprays a circular set of splayed, staccato notes before the theme is reprised for the first time. The split tone sopranino solo continues abstractly -- falling from pinched altissimo to unrefined low timbres -- as the dual drummer pitter-patter and pop behind him. Then, from among the polyphonic harmonies appear sul tasto tremolos from cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm, muted wah-wah trumpet counterpoint, and a gentle pastoral eclogue from the others.

Trombonist Jeb Bishop introduces rubato slurs that bounce off trumpet trills and spiccato sweeps from the strings. Blowing harshly, he gets most of his individualism from echoes. Following is a series of tongue slaps plus key percussion and glottal punctuation from Swede Mats Gustafsson or Vandermark on baritone. Adding lip-smacking verbal tones to ponticello bass movements and hand drumming, this orchestral formation adds up to the DKV trio writ large. Then, trilled slurs from the trumpeter, snaky chalumeau lines from Brötzmann’s clarinet and ride cymbal patter from Zerang are added.

The clarinet’s spittle squeaks soon meet up with baritone snorts and staccato interpolations from the brass. Pushed to a quicker tempo by two drum kits’ rough smears and irregular flutter-tonguing invigorate the reeds as Bishop’s slide ranges over the thematic variations. The climax refreshes all concerned, as horns, percussion and strings meld into a miasmic legato howl, with an Ornette Coleman-like folksy finale arriving with polyphonic counterpoint.

Inspirational in their own way, the other tunes pale in comparison to this one, with the exception of Brötzmann’s title track on SIGNS. But even here, the piece that’s almost exactly half the length of “All Things Being Equal” is most convincing because most of the players get to strut their stuff. With polyharmonic and polytonal passages reminiscent of John Coltrane’s “Ascension” or Brötzmann’s “Machine Gun”, there are instances of the band members improvising every which way as their dissonant textures mass then explode -- a musical foliage of smears, burrs, cries, hoots and snorts. Electrified -- but playing acoustically -- Lonberg-Holm rampages out flat-picked notes as the horns join for hocketing, squealing pantonality.

A double-tongued alto solo from Williams vibrates its way into R&B territory, trailed by battering percussion and stentorian runs from the two baritone saxists. Finally, after Brötzmann snakes out some nasal tarogato notes complete with glissandi, chesty-toned fortissimo reeds circle back to riff counterthemes and the cellist scrapes his strings as if he was severing them at the bridge.

Individual passages stand out elsewhere, but all the other tunes are made up of little more than isolated passages from different instruments with no attempt to bond them into a whole. Impressive they may be, but when soloists are heard a cappella or as duos in isolation, they raise the question of what the other band members were doing -- and why they were present at all. The other glaring oversight here is proper identification of soloists. Much of the description above is based on knowledge and guesswork.

Followers of any of the musicians may rate these sessions more highly -- and there’s certainly nothing second-rate or offensive about them. It merely seems that with the massed talents on display from Chicago and Europe -- not to mention upstate New York’s McPhee -- much more could have been done in terms of arrangements and organization.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Signs: 1. Bird notes (for Bengt Nordström) 2. Six Gun Territory 3. Signs

Track Listing: Images: 1. All Things Being Equal 2. Images

Personnel: Signs and Images: Joe McPhee (trumpet); Jeb Bishop (trombone); Peter Brötzmann (alto and tenor saxophones, A clarinet, tarogato); Mars Williams (sopranino, alto and tenor saxophones); Ken Vandermark(tenor and baritone saxophones, Bb clarinet); Mats Gustafsson (tenor and baritone saxophones); Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello); Kent Kessler (bass); Michael Zerang and Hamid Drake (drums)

December 6, 2004

STÉPHAN OLIVA

Itineraire Imaginaire
Sketch SKE 333042

GAETANO LIGUORI
L’Anima Di Un Uomo
Splasc (H) CDH 858.2

Program music that could be the soundtracks for journeys, real and fanciful, characterize the music on these CDs composed by vastly different European pianists.

Leading a sextet, Paris-based Stéphan Oliva’s ITINERAIRE IMAGINAIRE vaults between the sounds of his two greatest influences, Bill Evans and Lennie Tristano. With 13 tracks that offer up his version of escapist romanticism, this imaginary itinerary takes in the filmic territory inhabited by movies like Claude LeLouche’s “A Man and a Woman” and Jacques Demy’s “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg”. Imagine a post-modern Gallic twist on Cool Jazz.

Milan-based Gaetano Liguori only has two associates -- local saxist Roberto Ottaviano and Chicago drummer Hamid Drake -- to Oliva’s five, and the trio has plenty of room to stretch on four selections that range from almost 9½ minutes to almost 25. More committed to neo-realism -- which musically means recasting Freebop and The New Thing -- cinematically L’ANIMA DI UN UOMO or the Soul of a Man, is more involved in the committed experimental mode of left-wing filmmakers like Gillo Pontecorvo, known for “Burn” and “The Battle of Algiers”.

A Free Jazzer from the get-go, the pianist has been associated with local saxist Carlo Actis Dato and BritImprov’s Evan Parker. Bari-born Ottaviano has worked with Swiss drummer Pierre Favre, while Drake fits in with visionaries ranging from Chicago saxist Fred Anderson to New York bassist William Parker.

The cohesion of the Italian/American trio is most apparent on the nearly 25 minute title tune. With Ottaviano blasting away on alto, Liguori contributing tough cadenzas and Drake reverberating most parts of his kit, the comparison would be to the Jimmy Lyons/Cecil Taylor/Sunny Murray trio -- if the saxist wasn’t so committed a Coltranite. Liguori, who formerly composed more elaborate thematic pieces, is paradoxically more traditional and less free in his playing than Taylor, while Drake is nothing but his own man.

Liguori may use contrasting dynamics -- sliding from very highest pitched tones of the piano to low down ones -- but he also likes extended tremolos. Light fingered, and with a swinging pulse, he resonates notes on the keyboard, and uses the sustain pedal to increase the tension and fervor of the arpeggios popping from the keys -- and he never loses sight of the basic beat.

Meanwhile Ottaviano overblows into the deepest crevices of his horn’s body tube, producing distinct split tones with flutter tonguing and intense vibrations. His lines are abstract but pure at same time. When the pianist halves the tempo for a legato passage that’s practically an intermezzo, for instance, the reedist begins quoting Trane’s showpiece “My Favorite Things”, while Drake hardens the tempo.

For a finale, Liguori extricates protracted chords with his left hand, as his right hand keeps the rhythmic impetus at a slower tempo. Coda is 30 seconds of helter-skelter piano runs and small animal squeaks from the saxophone.

Vibrated, aviary-sounding motifs alternate with more exotic musette-like tones from the reed, as Ottaviano works his way through the other tracks. Flutter tongued obbligatos that build up to marathon racer speeds are as common as more Trane emulation from both his saxophones. Yet that doesn’t stop him from occasionally interjecting warbling tarantella-like themes where appropriate.

Liguori’s inventiveness takes on different forms. On “La nube della non conoscenza”, for instance, he spends time scraping and strumming the piano’s internal strings and percussively stopping the action. But “Il monte analogo” finds him in full Italo romantic mode, strumming chords with one hand and producing a modal overlay with the other. To meet Drake’s solid timekeeping, he creates splayed dynamic resonation; to keep up with Ottaviano’s snaking riffs, he crafts curlicue melodies elsewhere. And could it be that those rumbling octaves constitute themselves into a rocking salute to “Honky Tonk Train” in the first tune, the better to join with Drake’s ride cymbal pressure and cow bell thwacks?

Steady explosions of rolls and flams from Drake’s kit, plus slipping and sliding over the keys to contrasting dynamic clusters confirm the Freebop orientation of pieces like “Il monte analogo”. Yet no matter how staccato the saxman’s obbligatos or how fleet the pile-driver chords and a high frequency attack from the pianist, all three players manage to keep compositional strands together.

Meanwhile, Oliva and his four associates are reading from the same score all right, but would that some of the Liguori three’s animation and energy had made its way north to France.

Not that anything on this imaginary trip is second rate. The musicians -- especially the pianist who has worked with American drummer Paul Motian and his longtime bassist Bruno Chevillon, who does double duty with guitarist Marc Ducret and drummer Daniel Humair -- are technically impressive. It’s just that cohesiveness seems to dissipate over 11 tunes ranging from a tich over one minute to slightly less than eight. Especially at risk are soprano saxophonist Matthieu Donarier -- who has also worked with Humair -- and clarinetist Jean-Marc Foltz, whose respective tones are often so thick and legit that they move beyond cool to symmetry.

“Marche Antique”, for instance, the longest track, sounds like an attempt to mix Tristanto’s time sense with the coloration of 1970s modal jazz. Donarier’s sour-sounding timbre appears to be waiting for a (non-existent) airy electric piano riff to complement his flutter tonguing, while Oliva’s low-frequency, two-handed attack resembles a double-timed waltz. Eventually the piece concludes with irregular drumbeats and the distinctive coloratura trill from Foltz that makes its appearances frequently on the CD.

“Cecile Seule”, which conjures up a picture of a distressed heroine contemplating her next melancholy move, is impressionistic and traditional at the same time. With the theme carried by airy drumbeats and sprightly clarinet tones, it could fit in with the imaginary folklore created by other reedists like France’s Louis Sclavis and Italy’s Gianluigi Trovesi. Low frequency piano cadenzas playing a chromatic progressions add to this faux romanticism.

With other brief expositions either pastoral intermezzos for the pianist, or jocular free counterpoint from the two horns, one high pitched, the other darker and lower, there’s isn’t much sense of movement, let alone autonomy here.

Before the final number echoes the sound of the first to complete the compositional circle, the penultimate three tracks exhibit as much musical elasticity as Oliva is prepared to allow on this journey.

“Tango Indigo” features snaky, twittering lines from both horns over a pumping tango rhythm created from the piano and ends with an uncharacteristic reed squeak. “Passage En Marge” features the pianist alternating Tristano-like adagio tremolos in one hand and low-pitched, irregular offbeats with the other. But the energy and passion drummer Nicolas Larmignat brings to one of his infrequent solos contrasts with the low-key role Tristano envisioned for the traps set.

Rattling drum beats characterize “Ellipse” as well, as Larmignat punctuates treble horn trills and some flat picking from Chevillon. With Foltz finally exhibiting split tone color and slurred tones as he glides down the octaves, he’s met by speedy tremolo piano notes and concentrated percussion sound busts. Faster and more raucous, the tune ends with a sibilant, veloce finale from the horns.

Purported soundtracks to two musical journeys, the Southern Europeans appear to provide a better road map then their Gallic brethren.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Itineraire: 1. Preface 2. Marche Antique 3. Resonance d’Un Silence 4. Spirales 5. Cercle Ouvert 6. Partance Immobile 7. Cecile Seule 8. Mouvement Interrompu 9. Paradoxe 10. Tango Indigo 11. Passage En Marge 12. Ellipse 13. Postface

Personnel: Itineraire: Jean-Marc Foltz (clarinets); Matthieu Donarier (soprano saxophone); Stéphan Oliva (piano); Bruno Chevillon (bass); Nicolas Larmignat (drums)

Track Listing: Uomo: 1. L’anima di un uomo 2. La nube della non conoscenza 3. Come sopra, così sotto 4. Il monte analogo

Personnel: Uomo: Roberto Ottaviano (alto and soprano saxophones); Gaetano Liguori (piano); Hamid Drake (drums)

August 30, 2004

WILLIAM PARKER

Scrapbook
Thirsty Ear THI 57133.2

William Parker’s name may be above the title, but as the subtitle -- violin trio -- makes clear, the spectacular success of this CD rests in the bow and four strings of Billy Bang.

Legitimate successor to the mantle of Stuff Smith as jazz’s most original string soloist, New York-based Bang’s output has been inconsistent since he first came to prominence in the late 1970s with the String Trio of New York. But everything must have been in alignment on this date as Bang cuts loose on a half-dozen of Parker’s compositions, backed by the New York bassist and Chicago drummer Hamid Drake.

On “Singing Spirits”, which Parker dedicates to Charles Mingus, not only are the creations of his fiddle speech-like, but instrumentally the phrases are tougher than any gang-associated rapper could even hope to equal. At time Bang’s tone is so abrasive that it sounds as if he’s cutting into the wood and the catgut to slice out the music. Never a believer in proper violin timbre, his lines are even more dissonant here as he aims for the spirit beneath the music. At times he sounds like the type of country violinist who recorded with Mississippi blues pioneer Charlie Patton or perhaps an African one-string fiddler. Yet Parker’s string progression and the color from Drake’s press rolls and cymbal power, cut that primitivism with the sophistication of a modern improviser.

Parker describes “Dust on a White Shirt” as a “square dance song”. It’s more like a country and western blues, though, sort of what would happen if country fiddler Johnny Gimble knew Stanvinsky or if Muddy Waters and Anton Webern got together at a barn dance. Piercing at times, Bang’s tone sounds that way in order to allow him to play as quickly as he needs. Most of the time he seems to go beyond portamento and never take the bow off the strings, while Drake provides the rhythmic bounce. Countrified all right, at one point it seems that the violin lines and Parker’s solid bass pulse are sounding out “Turkey in the Straw”.

“Sunday Morning Church” is the bassman’s real showcase however. As secular as it is sacred, the polyphonic, more than 11½-minute composition mixes a tough ostinato from Parker and Bang’s melancholy violin line. The fiddler spends so much time figuratively speaking it tongues though, that sometimes it seems he’s sounding two violins simultaneously. Meanwhile the bassist revels in the resonation he can get from the lowest part of his instrument, never pretending that he’s playing a cello or a bass guitar. Eventually the tune resolves itself into a cousin of one of John Coltrane’s single chord vamp pieces, in near inert tempo.

On other tracks on the CD based, says Parker, on memories and images from dreams, Bang trade fours with Drake, but the overriding auditory image he suggests is that of a string quartet made up of four violinists, each quadruple stopping with solos in palatable screech mode.

Want a bang up demonstration of the skill of Parker of a composer and/or Bang has a soloist? SCRAPBOOK is the CD for you.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Scrapbook 2. Sunday Morning Church 3. Singing Spirits 4. Dust on a White Shirt 5. Urban 6. Holiday for Flowers

Personnel: Billy Bang (violin); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

September 22, 2003

BRÖTZMANN/PARKER/DRAKE

Never Too Late But Always Too Early
Eremite MTE 037/038

FRODE GJERSTAD TRIO WITH PETER BRÖTZMANN
Sharp Knives Cut Deeper
Splasc (h) CDH 850

More than 35 years after he roared onto the international Free Jazz scene, German reedist Peter Brötzmann’s playing still seems as ferocious as ever. This is a good thing. For unlike some of his contemporaries who have settled into a sort of middle-aged timidness, the tenor saxophonist still improvises with the same intensity and commitment at 60 as he did when he was 25.

Those who now hear a newly toned down Brötzmann are also a bit deluded. For the saxman’s playing has never been out-and-out raunchy and, as these two -- actually three, one is a two-CD set -- sessions demonstrate, his creations, are as solid or as subtle as he wants them to be.

Furthermore, Brötzmann, whose very first trio -- with the late German bassist Peter Kowald and Swedish drummer Sven-Åke Johansson -- was an international affair, has continued to maintain his non-German connections. Case in Point, NEVER TOO LATE is a record of his American trio with bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake, while SHARP KNIVES adds Brötzmann to the working trio of alto saxophonist Frode Gjerstad of Norway, filled out by fellow Norwegians bassist Øyvind Stroresund and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love.

Dedicated to Kowald, who first explored the then new music when they were both teenagers in their hometown of Wuppertal, the tracks on NEVER TOO LATE are alternately as stormy as the music the initial trio first made, and as sombre as a threnody should be. Kowald died of heart failure in September 2002 between the recording and release of this live set.

Encompassing three tracks, the title tune begins with mournful clarinet tones from Brötzmann and restrained arco work from Parker. Unsurprisingly the reedist keeps the growled melancholy theme going for several minutes, only occasionally heading into higher, screech mode as the bassman produces thick and solid chords and Drake appears to be doing little more than merely touching the drums. Although an instant composition, the band probably decided to use it as a memorial since the subsequent solo by Parker, who also had a longtime association with Kowald, is rooted in the creation of simultaneous tones, overtones and undertones that the German bassist would have appreciated.

By the second track, Brötzmann on tenor, is keening like a traditional Muslim widow, sluicing out slipsliding shrills and overblowing tones. Drake has turned to harder rock-style drum beating, as the saxman seems to relinquish his control and turn to multiphonics -- if it’s possible to quadruple-tongue, he’s doing it. Finally, as the rhythm section gradually slows down then speeds up its accompaniment, the beat settles and the saxman’s irregular vibrato gets so frenzied that it almost seems as if he’s about to levitate. Ghost notes, false fingering, flutter tonguing combine as entire passages are taken in sopranissimo pitch. Soon the entire audience is screaming as Brötzmann honks out elongated tones to the climax.

“Half-hearted beast” seems almost anti-climatic in retrospect, with an re-energized reedman screeching a cappella as if he playing a hunting horn leading a charge at the foxes. Meanwhile, Drake’s free, but rhythmically powerful, rim shots complement Parker’s unvarying tone. Construction is almost pure soulful R&B, if you can accept that description of a German avant gardist’s work.

The first CD is pretty powerful as well, with Brötzmann’s renal cry announcing his presence almost from the beginning. Taking up the first four tracks of that disc, “Never Run but Go” finds the saxman rolling forward like a tank battalion, using his slightly nasal tone and split tones to push obstacles away. Not that the bassist and drummer are obstacles. Parker’s pizzicato pulse holds the beat to the road, while Drake uses cow bell, snare and ride cymbal to roll and slide out his All-American commentary on the blitzkrieg. Throughout the Chicago-based percussionist subtly alters the tempo underneath Brötzmann’s explosions.

Listen closely as well, and you’ll hear Parker quote from “Boogie Stop Shuffle” at one point. This is appropriate, since the New York-based bassist seems to have inherited its composer, Charles Mingus’ mantle not only as a first-class bassist, but also as an organizer and bandleader.

Although the emphasis here is on the reedist’s collection of nephritic cries and intestinal tones plus Drake’s roughs and drags, nothing seems to faze the bassist. By the end of the mini-suite, using his bow, he’s managed to get the others to halve the tempo to such an extent that the piece becomes almost quiet and reverent. Then again Brötzmann squealing in tongues is as close to “Taps” as Free Jazzers can play.

If that piece is quiet than “The Heart and the Bones” almost sounds like restrained BritImprov. After introducing the theme with abrasive steel wool-like string tones, Parker stands aside for muted squeals from Brötz and hand drumming from Drake. Soon the beat turns hypnotic as the bassist begins revealing the distinctive string sounds of the Donso Ngoni or Malian hunter’s harp. The coda relates a lot more to his pinpointed strums than the reedist’s squeals.

Recorded eight months later, SHARP KNIVES is a reunion of sort for Brötzmann and the veteran alto saxist, who recorded as a duo CD in 1998. Here, as a matter of fact, they start out this disc unaccompanied, with Gjerstad playing short nervous cadenzas on clarinet, while Brötz pushes out dark-colored continuum on bass clarinet. The German continues to go south with his sound as Gjerstad moves higher until all hell breaks loose with the entry of Stroresund and Nilssen-Love, pumped as if they have to run the four-minute mile.

Like Parker on the other disc, Stroresund holds the pulse, while Nilssen-Love, who has recorded with everyone from saxists Mats Gustaffson to Ken Vandermark, relies on press rolls to keep things on an even keel. Meanwhile the two woodwind players are getting louder, biting down on their reeds and vocalizing notes in the aviary range.

Pressure cooker pulses continue to appear for the remainder of the session, with Brötz’s taragto at times adding a bit of Eastern European color to the proceedings. For his part Gjerstad often clambers up the scale, spearing high pitched notes and operating in dog whistle territory. Together, the mixture of claxon calls and growling multiphonics from the two saxists often produces something that could be the soundtrack for feeding time at a zoo filled with particularly bad-tempered carnivores.

Everything reaches a climax in the final -- and longest -- track, when chalumeau clarinet tones matched with bowed bass lines are superseded by irregular drum beats and reed expositions that vary from whines to Bronx cheers. As the drummer channels Sunny Murray on rat-tat-tat snares and echoing cymbals, Brötzmann lacerates the melody, double and triple tonguing as if he was pulling notes straight from the very marrow of the saxophone. Gjerstad responds at higher intensity and higher pitch to such an extent that the dense notes and tones are packed tighter than the passengers in a Tokyo subway. With each woodwind note seemingly bent, simultaneous rattling drum and bowing bass push the tempo faster until the tune finally ends.

What’s left behind from the sax-created ostinato however is the promise that either of these veteran saxmen could have continued to blow all night.

As Kowald’s death at 58 proved, no one lives for ever. But on the evidence of these CDs, veterans like Brötzmann -- and come to think of it Gjerstad -- appear to have plenty of spunk left in them for many years to come.

-- Ken Waxman

Personnel: Never: Peter Brötzmann (tenor saxophone, taragato, clarinet); William Parker (bass, donso ngoni); Hamid Drake (drums)

Track Listing: Never: Disc 1: 1. Never Run but Go I 2. Never Run but Go II 3. Never Run but Go III 4. Never Run but Go IV 4 5. The Heart and the Bones Disc 2: 1. Never Too Late But Always Too Early I 2. Never Too Late But Always Too Early II 3. Never Too Late But Always Too Early III 4. Half-hearted beast

Track Listing: Sharp: 1. Sharp Knives Cut Deeper Part 1 2. Sharp Knives Cut Deeper Part 2 3. Sharp Knives Cut Deeper Part 3 4. Sharp Knives Cut Deeper Part 4

Personnel: Sharp: Frode Gjerstad (alto saxophone, clarinet); Peter Brötzmann (tenor saxophone, taragato, bass clarinet); Øyvind Stroresund (bass); Paal Nilssen-Love (drums)

July 7, 2003

VARIOUS ARTISTS

Live from the Vision Festival
Thirsty Ear THI 57131.2

The next best thing to being there, this combination CD and DVD package offers a distillation of some of the outstanding performances from last year’s Vision Festival in New York’s Lower East Side. Lacking the name recognition of Newport, Montreux, or any other capitalist entity-associated international star festival, in its less than 10 year existence, Vision has still promulgated a unique artistic vision.

Built around the vision of bassist William Parker, it’s a place where pioneering avant gardists from the 1960s mix it up with younger players who are carrying on experimental ideals. It’s cross-cultural, national and international as well, with the musicians showcased on this session arriving from Germany, Korea, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, Minneapolis, Valencia, Calif., New Orleans… and Brooklyn,

Substantiating his ubiquity, Parker holds down the bass chair on five of the nine tracks --in five different bands, Fellow bull fiddle masters Tyrone Brown, Reggie Workman and the late Peter Kowald are represented as well.

Longest performance, at more than 11 minutes, is “Crepuscule IV in Powderhorn Park”, which reunites three founding members of Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Music who now reside in different parts of the country. Minneapolis-based Douglas Ewart shows up with his reed collection -- some of which are homemade -- to improvise with the woodwinds of Brooklyn’s Joseph Jarman. From California, Wadada Leo Smith adds his trumpet to the duo, and the three members of the front line are backed by the unbeatable rhythm section of Chicago’s Hamid Drake and Parker.

Perhaps it’s the strength of the go-for-broke rhythm of the bassist and drummer, but the performance is more convincing than some recent CDs by each of the front line partners. Expelling a mixture of gritty bluesiness and elegant, brassy grace notes, Smith states the theme, which is then elaborated by Jarman’s soprano saxophone. Using whistles and straining his notes sharply to make a point, the saxman turns rubato with a brief stop-time section, which is then echoed by Ewart’s tenor sax undertow and Parker’s perfectly proportioned bass line. Finally the three horns conclude triple forte, with Drake’s rolling roughs giving them enough leverage on which to soar.

The same rhythm team backs up tenor veterans Kidd Jordan from New Orleans and Chicago’s Fred Anderson. Each pushing 70, the extended multiphonics they propel from their horns often mix with a primeval funkiness, hinting at how Johnny Griffin and Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis might have handled Free Jazz. At a little more then four minutes though, “Spirits Came In” is barely long enough to let everyone feel the spirit.

Almost double in length, but flashing by at supersonic speeds is “Bangart 100”, performed by unconventional fiddler Billy Bang, World Saxophone Quartet anchor, baritone saxophonist Hamiet Bluiett, and contemporary composer Jin Hi Kim on Korean komungo. With his unaccompanied attack as reminiscent of hoedown as Heifetz, here Bang’s technique keeps up with his emotionalism. Working the opposite end of his horn’s palate, Bluiett ignites basement tones, altissimo wild pig squeals and growling feline feints. Keeping this all-together fingerpicking on her multi-stringed traditional instrument is Kim.

Other highlights include the definition of “Existence” provided by the duo of Dave Burrell on piano and bassist Brown. Cognizant of jazz history, like the late Jaki Byard, Philly’s piano pride mixes several of the music’s key streams on his keyboard. Initially he outputs high frequency, percussive cadenzas that are as far out as anything practiced by the New Thing, which counted Burrell as a member for his work with Archie Shepp. Later, providing fills behind Brown’s ringing tones, he shows off his lyric side that characterized him as a “song man” when he played with David Murray.

Then there’s Kowald’s stinging, more then 10½-minute solo “Improvisation”. Sometimes appearing to make his bass talk in several voices, the German maestro wraps together pizzicato buzzing strings, vocal drone and some grating, yet impressive arco thrusts into a characteristic show-stopping display.

Running down the outstanding merits of every track would be pointless, since each offers a different perspective on modern free sounds. The weakest piece, in fact, is also the first: “Truth Is Marching In”. Not the Albert Ayler standard, this reunion tune by alto saxophonist Jameel Moondoc’s Muntu quartet, featuring trumpeter Roy Campbell, drummer Rashid Bakr and bassist Parker seems, like the composition’s title, to be more caught up in New Thing revivalism than inventing the music anew. But isn’t nostalgia one construct of reunions?

Couple the more than 70½-minutes of music with the images available on the DVD and you’ll yearn to be in attendance at the Fest next time it takes place. Making light of geography, this VISION package means you can experience some of festival highlights at home.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing:1. Truth is Marching In 2. Existence 3. Bangart 100 4. Crepuscule IV in Powderhorn Park 5. Speech of Form 6. 45 Hours 7. Synchronicity 8. Sprits Came In 9. Improvisation

Personnel: 1. Muntu: Roy Campbell (trumpet); Jameel Moondoc (alto saxophone); William Parker (bass); Rashid Bakr (drums) 2. Dave Burrell (piano); Tyrone Brown (bass) 3. Hamiet Bluiett (baritone saxophone); Billy Bang (violin); Jin Hi Kim (komungo) 4. Wadada Leo Smith (trumpet); Douglas Ewart (bass clarinet, clarinet, tenor saxophone); Joseph Jarman (alto clarinet, bass clarinet, flute, bass flute, alto saxophone); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) 5. Mathew Shipp (piano); Mat Manner (viola); William Parker (bass) 6. Rob Brown (alto saxophone); Karen Borca (bassoon); Reggie Workman (bass); Newman Taylor Baker (drums) 7. Ellen Christi (vocals); Rolf Strum (guitar); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) 8. Kidd Jordan; Fred Anderson (tenor saxophones); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums) 9. Peter Kowald (bass)

June 16, 2003

GARY LUCAS/JOZEF VAN WISSEM

Diplopia
BVHaast 0103

WILLIAM PARKER/JOE MORRIS/HAMID DRAKE Eloping With The Sun
RITI CD 007

String-driven, these CDs work with the idea of adapting traditional plucked instruments to new roles, new sounds and unusual additions. Thus, on one disc, the country bluesman’s favorite National steel guitar and the Renaissance minstrel’s lute are mixed with electronics and percussion for futuristic versions of 16th century airs. On the other, three free jazzers use instruments rescued from the stringband and world music ghettos to create some highly rhythmic improvised sounds.

A follow-up of sorts to NARCISSUS DROWNING, Dutch lutanist Jozef Van Wissem last CD which featured downtown New York guitarist Gary Lucas on three tracks, this short (31½-minute) disc has Lucas on board for all nine tracks.

Designated as DIPLOPIA or double image, the idea seems to be that Lucas’s National steel and acoustic guitars complement Van Wissem’s lute and electronics so well that they seem to be joined at the frets. Indeed on the seven songs -- two appear both in studio and live versions -- the duo seems to be extending the fingerpicking instrumental tradition of John Fahey and Leo Kottke. Most tunes find the lutanist advancing the sounds, which range from near gavottes to Renaissance processional themes to something that sounds suspiciously like “Ode to Joy”, with passing chords tossed out to the guitarist. The crash of percussion and suggestions of droning electronics further dislocate the melodies from four centuries-old histories.

For the most part eschewing strumming folkie accompaniment, Lucas either constructs underlying flat-picking as a continuum or uses the sort of lancet-sharp whine Bukka White or Son House could draw from their strings to comment on the proceedings. Operating in tandem or counterpoint, the two pickers often pass floating motifs back and forth, but with a single exception, have stalled the presentation on virtuosity rather than resolution.

Although it’s just as pleasant as the duo’s previous CD, DIPLOPIA is also very similar sounding. Unless some fresh input is added to their sound, the two may find themselves trapped in a medieval ghetto waiting for a musical Renaissance.

One tune, “The Mirror Stage” does offer some hope for a rebirth, though, with the allusion to sprightly Aegean dance music tossed into the mix. Interestingly enough it’s the same sort of Greco-Turkish rhythm that enlivens some of the sounds on ELOPING WITH THE SUN.

On the final and penultimate tunes of that session, for instance, the trio appears to lock into suggestions of Greek Rebetika music, harsh, urban dance rhythms played by violin, guitar oud, cenbalo and lyre. Those ethnic axes aren’t in evidence, but the three musicians are playing what is for them unusual instruments. Bassist William Parker keeps the hypnotic beat going with the zintir, a Moroccan bass lute usually associated with Gnawa music. Drum kit master Hamid Drake confines himself to creating counter rhythms on a frame drum that looks like a giant tambourine. And Joe Morris puts aside his guitar to play banjo and ukulele hybrid, the banjouke.

“Stepdance” features those Greco-Turkish suggestions unrolling over the sort of repeated bass patterns popular in Africentric jazz-funk of the 1970s and, to be honest, the Newbeats’ hit “Bread and Butter”. Drake bangs his hand drum and Morris introduces some flailing commentary with his banjo.

Gus Cannon-like chromatic blues banjo comes to the fore on “Dream”, as Drake and Parker are able to use their acoustic instruments to lock into a repetitive groove as if they were the electric bassist and drummer in a crack rhythm team from the golden age of Motown. Probably switching to the banjouke, Morris alternates the Rebetika echoes with first speedy finger picking then slurred fingering with an eccentric choice of notes.

Earlier there have been sections where it has sounded as if some Scruggs-style bluegrass banjo picking had been mixing it up with African and Middle Eastern drones. That’s because Drake seems to be able to produce snare and bass drum sounds from his one percussion implement. “Hop-kin”, the longest tune at nearly 17 minutes, finds clawhammer banjo licks facing what could be a walking jazz bass and Native American tom toms at one point. Another section turns vaguely North Indian, with the strings and percussion instruments implying the sounds of a sarod and a tabla. Wonder if Old Joe Clark ever met Ravi Shankar? Meanwhile, as Morris’s decorations on the basic tune ascends and descends the chord structure, Parker’s finger patterns don’t slacken in intensity.

An interesting experiment, this CD would probably have been better if it was one long, but more condensed track, rather than one divided into five shorter parts. It’s a disc that will be sought out by followers of any of these experimenters to see how they transfer their unique technique(s) to other instruments. Whether this total instrumental cross-dressing should be tried again may be open to argument.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Diplopia: 1. Sick 2. If it doesn’t fit, thou must acquit 3. For whom the bell tolls 4. Will o’ the Wisp 5. Diplopia 6. The Mirror Stage 7. Brethren of the Free Spirit 8. If it doesn’t fit, thou must acquit (live) 9. The Mirror Stage (live)

Personnel: Diplopia: Gary Lucas (National steel and acoustic guitars); Jozef Van Wissem (10-course Renaissance lute, electronics, percussion)

Track Listing: Eloping: 1. Sand Choir 2. Dawn Son 3. Hop-Kin 4. Stepdance 5. Dream

Personnel: Eloping: Joe Morris (banjo and banjouke); William Parker (zintir); Hamid Drake (frame drum)

April 14, 2003

NICOLE MITCHELL/BLACK EARTH ENSEMBLE

Afrika Rising
Dreamtime Records 004

Creativity is still common currency in Chicago as the new CD by flutist/composer Nicole Mitchell proves. Even more ambitious than her debut disc (VISION QUEST also on Dreamtime Records) this CD finds Mitchell, who also teaches flute at Chicago State University, convening an even larger Black Earth Ensemble made up of 19 different musicians on various tracks. The result is an Afrocentric disc that shows off not only her flute, piccolo and vocals, but also the wealth of other Windy City talent, many of whom are also part of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians.

Some of the better known names include everyone’s favorite drummer Hamid Drake; trombonist Steve Berry and drummer Arveeayl Ra, who are part of Ernest Dawkins’ New Horizons Ensemble; pianist Jim Baker who has made CDs with Ken Vandermark and Fred Anderson; trumpeter Corey Wilkes, who has recorded with Roscoe Mitchell; and musicians such as multi-reedist David Boykin and violinist Savoir Faire who work in bands under Mitchell and Boykin’s leadership.

Yet such is the Midwest’s embarrassment of musical riches that two of the other soloists besides Mitchell herself and Faire, who turn out impressive work -- trombonist Tony Hererra and pianist Wanda Bishop -- are almost unknown outside of Chicago’s South Side. This South Side connection is significant as well. For like The Art Ensemble or Rahsaan Roland Kirk before her, Mitchell’s Afrika is a mythical place, whose sounds include early and modern jazz, country and urban blues and Black religious music, as well as more distinctive influences from the Mother continent. On one tune you can even hear an echo of Kirk’s “Bright Moments”, mixing it up with hard bop piano and a slice of Sam Cooke’s “Chain Gang”.

You can experience this bubbling musical stew most clearly on a tune like “Bluerise”, written like all the other material, except for the traditional “Wade in the Water” by Mitchell. With its Mingusian time and tempo changes, this off-kilter blues is driven along by the vocalized trombone of young Hererra with echoes of Tricky Sam Nanton, and some deep dish, rent-party piano from veteran Bishop, who from her picture looks as if she didn’t learn how to play the 12-bar form from a text book. Faire unveils a light swinging tone that relates to the advances of Eddie South, another fiddler and Chicago club mainstay of the 1930 and 1940s, while even Ur-modernist Boykin varies his clarinet showcase between AACM style split tones and old-timey trills that could date back to Johnny Dodds in the 1920s. As the almost 11-minute piece changes shape and tempo as it moves along, Mitchell’s flute often mixes it up with Faire, showing that she can create sounds from deep inside her throat and from her lips while maintaining a bouncy legato tone.

“Wheatgrass” finds her expressing this potent tone on both flute and piccolo (!) as Boykin goes into a heavy bar-walking tenor saxophone mode. In counterpoint, the fiddler is scratching out dissonant asides, while drummer Isaiah Spencer -- on his only appearance on the discs -- and percussionist Jovia Armstrong, who sounds as if she’s playing a darbuka, combine for some Middle Passage rhythm as American as it is African. After Mitchell and Faire entwine once more in front of riffing R&B-style horns, the piece concludes with a powerful, hard bop bass solo in a Wilbur Ware mode courtesy of Darius Savage

Besides a 53-second exhibition of extended flute technique on “Emerging Light”, Mitchell gets to exercise her vocal chords both wordlessly, with a suggestion of African throat singing on “Intergalactic Healing” and with words on “Goldmind” and “Peaceful Village Town”. With its Oprah-meets-Operation Push affirmative lyrics the former seems to be attuned to the 1960s, while the later with its naïve sentiments about the perfection of rural African life is almost Garveyite in its diasporic nostalgia. Still some hearty obbligatos from Hererra and Faire enliven the first; and what sounds like Armstrong’s mbira mixed with Hererra’s plunger tone and modern 4/4 bass from Josh Abrams prevents the second from becoming too maudlin.

This disc, which available from Mitchell’s Web site at www.NicoleMitchell.com, proves that her music that was promising last time is moving into the realm of must-hear. With such quality to build on, it also makes waiting for her next statement with anticipation, even more of a necessity.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Afrika Rising Trilogy Movement I: The Ancient Power Awakens 2. Movement II: Metamorphosis 3. Movement III: Intergalactic Healing^ 4. Peaceful Village Town^ 5. Emerging Light 6. Umoja (Intro)^ 7. Umoja^ 8. Bluerise 9. Goldmind 10. Wheatgrass* 11. Towards Vision Quest

Personnel: Corey Wilkes (trumpet); Tony Hererra (trombone, shells, vocals); Steve Berry (trombone); Nicole Mitchell (flutes, piccolo*, vocals^) David Boykin (tenor saxophone, clarinet, vocals); Miles Tate III, Jim Baker (piano); Wanda Bishop (piano, vocals); Savoir Faire (violin, vocals); Edith Yokley (violin); Tomeka Reid (cello); Josh Abrams or Darius Savage (bass); Hamid Drake or Isaiah Spencer (drums); Arveeayl Ra (drums, vocals); Coco Elysses (percussion); Jovia Armstrong (percussion, vocals)

February 10, 2003

WILLIAM PARKER

WILLIAM PARKER … And William Danced
AYLER aylCD-044

JEMEEL MOONDOC
Live at Glenn Miller Café Vol. 1
AYLER aylCD-026

True, exceptional, improvised music depends on particular circumstances to be actualized. Mood, time, location and acquaintance are capable of altering the equation to such an extent that two sessions recorded hours apart can be vastly different.

That’s what happened with these two CDs, both of which feature bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake. LIVE was recorded one night at Stockholm’s Glenn Miller Café by the two, plus their regular playing partners, alto saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc. The result is a representative hour of high class, New York-based free improv sound. Earlier that day Parker and Drake, met and played for the first time with veteran Swedish alto saxophonist Anders Gahnold, who isn’t even that well known in his homeland. Touchingly, the ensuing studio-recorded 66 minutes, offers up a slice of free improv at its finest.

Obviously the novelty of the arrangement, time of the day, circumstances of the meeting, or to use a 1960s word, the vibes, were in alignment at that time. Gahnold, was for eight years until the 1986 death of bassist Johnny Dyani, part of a European avant trio with Dyani and the bass man’s fellow South African, drummer Gilbert Matthews. Today he works as an electronic engineer for a large Swedish high tech firm. Perhaps understandably, given improv’s low media profile, the saxophonist had literally never even heard of Drake and Parker before he met them at the session.

Thrown together, though, the three soon make a rapprochement, with each subsequent improvisation longer than the one that proceeded it, and with the boiling point reached on the title tune, at more than 30 minutes, LP-length itself.

More a finger-snapping freebop number than a true avant garde vehicle, Gahnold’s edgy, piercing tone is reminiscent of Jackie McLean or Sonny Rollins in their 1960s New Thing-flirting days. A foot on the floor, plowing ahead, the saxman eventually begins double timing with a pronounced burr in his delivery. Ultimately, after he stops spinning out longer phrases, Gahnold makes his sound even sharper and higher-pitched, using multiphonics to construct variations on the changes, and changes on the variations. He doesn’t so much stop playing at the end, but grounds to a halt, as if he’s ready to start again on a moment’s notice.

Contrary to the title, the only dancing Parker does is with his fingers, but he shapes identical notes over and over again, creating melodies and counter melodies, playing one phrase on a string and then echoing it with another. One technique used is to produce a buzz as a string is loosened, finally returning to foursquare rhythm and speeding up the attack. Sizzles from Drake’s cymbals worry an off-kilter beat as all this is going on until he too turns boppish, bending bass drum pedal work, cross sticking and press rolls to fit the role. Someone (Drake?) even yells out “yeah” -- the distinctive call of the hipster.

The other two tunes are no less exciting, with the second grotesquely named by the actions of the studio owner’s next door neighbor. When the trio began playing the fellow complained that the music was disturbing his customers, though he runs an undertaker’s parlor. Thus “The Undertaker’s Dance”.

On both, as Gahnold’s jagged alto sax slips in and out of key, creating gritty, stairstep arpeggios Drake and Parker lay down a groove. Manfully pulling on the strings, Parker comes up with a nearly endless bluesy vamp that speeds up and slows down as it herds the others from one tempo to another. Using his palms, sticks and brushes, Drake rollicks around the bassist’s centre point with his snares and toms as the alto saxophonist trills staccato notes, which touches of an outside Charles Lloyd.

During the course of the session, it’s reported, the musicians hardly talked to one another, they just played, without bothering about titles and time signatures. Would that had happened with Moondoc that same night. If the Swede and two Americans were like a trio of John Waynes, the American altoist, who has been a Parker associate for more than 20 years, comes on like Robin Williams.

Musing about the history of the saxophone on “Blues From (sic) My People”, Moondoc mires himself in an extended rap about marching bands, saxophone inventor Adolphe Sax, legendary tenorman Coleman Hawkins who “reinvented the sax” and how he doesn’t take requests, even from family members.

This may have been diverting in a club, but when he finally starts playing “Blues”, which isn’t really a blues, it’s up to Parker and Drake to guide Moondoc’s strident tone into melding with their never less-than-professional work. The drummer unveils many press rolls, rim shots and hi hat cymbal splatters, after the bassist sounds out one of his characteristic deep, dark bass explorations.

Unfortunately, with both numbers clocking in at either side of 30 minutes, there’s too much round robin soloing. Often flashing by at supersonic speeds, you can note Parker snapping his strings as he illuminates both the high and low parts of his axe and, at times, he seems to be playing duets with himself. Hard and fast, Drake appears to be in a bop mode, with much emphasis on bass pedal and sizzle cymbal. Notwithstanding both men trading fours with the altoist at different times, on his own Moondoc appears to have no on/off switch, often worrying a riff over and over and over again.

Those who follow the careers of the American trio members will be most interested in the second disc. But be forewarned that it’s a standard club set where flashes of brilliance vie with banality. The first disc with Gahnold is a find, though. More discs featuring him -- new or reissues -- will be anticipated.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: … And: 1. First Dance 2. The Undertaker’s Dance 3. … and William Danced

Personnel: … And: Anders Gahnold (alto saxophone); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

Track Listing: Live: 1. Hi Rise 2. Blues From My People

Personnel: Live: Jemeel Moondoc (alto saxophone); Parker (bass); Drake (drums)

September 23, 2002

AALY TRIO/DKV TRIO

Double or Nothing
Okka Disc OD 12035

SCHOOL DAYS
In Our Time
Okka Disc OD 12041

SPACEWAYS INCORPORATED
Version Soul
Atavistic ALP 130 CD

Eventually Ken Vandermark is going to have to stop wearing his emotions --and influences -- on his sleeve and CD booklet.

Now that the Chicago-based reedman has established himself nationally and internationally as an extender and interpreter of free music, aren’t the dedications he appends to each of his original compositions getting to be a bit redundant?

He was honored with the so-called “genius” grant from the MacArthur Foundation a couple of years ago, has proved himself a valuable contributor to musical situations ranging from duos to big bands and constantly records with his own or cooperative groups. So isn’t it about time to acknowledge that audiences can now be as interested in his tunes for what they sound like rather than whom they honor.

Perhaps this need to link himself to “the tradition” is a sign of modesty or even self-abasement. The former is a more attractive emotion than the later, but neither is necessary. Vandermark’s various bands haven’t yet produced one masterwork, but despite some inconsistencies, are still creating a shelf of memorable work.

Take the discs at hand for instance. Two involve him with Europeans; the last is an all-American product.

DOUBLE OR NOTHING was recorded in 1999 as a match up between his Chicago-based SKV trio -- Vandermark, bassist Kent Kessler and drummer Hamid Drake -- and the Swedish AALY trio -- saxist Mats Gustaffson, bassist Ingebrigt Håker-Flaten and drummer Kjell Nordeson, a band which has frequented toured with Vandermark as a guest. The idea seemed to mix and match twinned instrumentalists sort of like Ornette Coleman’s FREE JAZZ or the recordings by the late Glenn Spearman’s double trio.

The only other time Vandermark tried a similar experiment was in 1986 with UTILITY HITTER, where he matched the members of his Boston trio, including bassist Nate McBride, with Chicagoans. But while that session broke down into duo and trio showcases DOUBLE OR NOTHING -- an apt title -- is a group effort. In fact, with only three tunes examined in nearly 52 minutes, the similarities among the six improvisers are on view much more than their differences.

Strangely enough, the bass duo get to show off, not on the first tune, dedicated to bassist Henry Grimes, but at the beginning of the medley of the final two, written respectively by Albert Ayler and Don Cherry, both of whom employed Grimes on important 1960s LPs. Spending almost the first five minutes with one arco bass playing in a high register, and the other bowing at an even more elevated pitch, reverberating, woody thrusts finally elaborate the theme.

Before both drummers redefine themselves with the combination of snare bashing and a sound that resembles door knocking, a characteristic of Ayler’s drummers like Sunny Murray, both hornmen have unleashed a symphony of glossolalia, producing as much spit as overtones. Vandermark rumbles contentedly and straightforwardly on bass clarinet while Gustaffson uses growls, smears and lingual tones to produce what could be the first off-side variations on “God Save The Queen” or is it “A Love Supreme”?

Fitting the front line like a plug in an electrical socket, the Cherry tune recalls the time he was part of Ayler’s band. Here, as Gustaffson elaborates the head at half tempo, Vandermark on tenor showcases some flutter tonguing and vibrato overflow, backed by the buzzing of bowed basses. These hoards subside for a time as Nordeson uses snares, toms and cymbal to attach his soloing to Elvin Jones’s lineage.

If Nordeson, who made his reputation in Sweden with pianist Per-Henrik Wallin and the Low Dynamic Orchestra, channels Jones on the first disc, which was recorded in Chicago, he was in full Bobby Hutcherson-Gary Burton mode as a vibist on the second. A live session from Oslo’s Blå club done late in 2001, it matches Vandermark and Håker-Flaten with the two other members of the School Days group -- American trombonist Jeb Bishop and Norwegian drummer Paal Nilssen-Love -- plus the vibraharpist.

Because of the novelty of his instrument -- at least in this context -- Nordeson ends up front and centre most of the time, while the configuration is strongly reminiscent of those Archie Shepp bands that featured Hutcherson plus Roswell Rudd or Grachan Moncur III on trombone.

In a program featuring one Bill Evans tune, a different Cherry line, one by Bishop and four Vandermark originals -- all with dedications -- this is definitely a jazz record with a lot of theme-solo-solo-theme work. Also, in a club space, the five fare best on the faster tunes, with the slower ones dragging a bit. As a matter of fact, tunes like “Off The Top” dedicated to organist Larry Young, really end up resembling the sort of hummable soul jazz that coexisted with The New Thing in the 1960s. Bishop may be double-tonguing like Moncur, but Vandermark ends up rearing back and honking like Stanley Turrentine or one of the other boss tenors of that era.

Constant vibe accents, probably played with four mallets, enliven “What About”, which is even dedicated to Hutcherson. More of his own man, though, Nordeson brings a hefty marimba-like tone to his solos that extend on top of tasty Nilssen-Love brushwork. Then at the end, the theme, which initially pinponged between Bishop’s comfortable middle register and Vandermark’s horn, resolves itself into something that could be a mid-1960s Blue Note records boogaloo.

Closer to the Shepp-Hutcherson-Moncur aggregations, Bishop’s “Octopus” is almost sabotaged by under-recording -- at least you have to strain to hear the fleet mallet work. The composer himself lets loose with some growling shout choruses, goosed by the speedily vibrating metal bars. Soon the long-limbed trombone spit and polish is joined by Vandermark on tenor, trilling, double timing, and flutter tonguing. Powerhouse drumming pushes the saxman still further into lingual multiphonics until the entire aggregation brings back the head.

IN OUR TIMES’ music that slithers from cloistered to on the corner and back again, with the emphasis on party time, also has its parallel in VERSION SOUL, recorded two months earlier in Chicago. Credited to School Days, this trio has Vandermark on clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor and baritone saxophones, Drake on drums and guesting from Boston, McBride on bass and electric bass.

It’s the last instrument that distinguishes this session from the others. In spite of claims made for its suppleness when played by so-called fusion masters, the electric bass like the electric keyboard can’t produce the same individual touch that an acoustic instrument can. So while rhythmic input goes up exponentially on those tracks on which it’s featured, one potential solo instrument is removed from the mix.

What's more, during the course of the nine foot-tappers that make up the disc, Vandermark seems to have put himself on the horns of a dilemma -- pun intended. Boasting dedications encompassing artists as different as Reggae forefather, keyboardist Jackie Mittoo, abstract painter Mark Rothko and Larry Graham, bassist for Graham Central Station and Sly and the Family Stone, Vandermark seems to be struggling for his individuality here. Should he concentrate on being an out-and-out raucous player like the usually anonymous saxists who provided instrumental breaks in funk and reggae singles; or should he be a highbrow improviser. He tries both identities on for size here with mixed results.

“Back of a Cab”, for instance, which tries for a prototypical ska or rock steady rhythm courtesy of Drake’s woodblock percussion, doesn’t really follow through when it comes to Vandermark’s sax lines. His squeaks and gentleness seem out of place and when he uses fewer notes than usual it sounds as if he’s holding himself back. Much more impressive is “Clocked”, where the drummer’s heavy, but not overbearing effects suggests both the Crescent City and JA. With McBride thumb tapping on his electric bass, making like The Meters’ George Porter, the reedist adopts a tone that’s midway between reggae and 1950s’ New Orleans R&B, where Lee Allen’s baritone sax reigned supreme.

Probably the most impressive performance comes on “She Just Got Here” though. A McBride line with no attached musical baggage or dedication, it slips along on a Drake created reggae backbeat and some in-your-face fuzztone courtesy of the composer’s electrical outlet. Mixing his rock and his reggae, Vandermark seems perfectly content to honk away.

This overblowing is put to a more cerebral use on “Force at a Distance”, a salute to New Thing honker tenor saxophonist Frank Wright -- who, incidentally, also recorded with Henry Grimes. Apparently comfortable emulating the style of a man who always mixed gospel and blues with his Energy music, Vandermark sounds more sure of himself, indulging in extended harmonics and holding notes for an inordinate length of time. Meantime Drake glides all over his kit with the strength and imagination Wright should have got from his percussionists, and alternately plucking and bowing his acoustic upright, McBride holds everything together with strength unparalleled elsewhere.

Odd number out here, “Rothko Sideways” the CD’s longest track, is muted and melancholy, with Vandermark on clarinet relating more to Jimmy Giuffre’s early 1960s work that was as far away from pop music as British crumpets are from West Indian patties. A slow-moving, low-key recital, Vandermark’s reedy output is shadowed step-by-baby-step by McBride’s talents on the acoustic, with Drake contributing little more than the occasional cymbal splash or -- appropriately -- brush stroke.

Here are three more, wildly different, contributions to the Vandermark discography, which will probably be sought out by the reedist’s many fans. Each has something to recommend it, though overall it seems that Vandermark’s chameleon personality often needs another strong horn player to provide contrast. That’s why IN OUR TIMES is probably the most interesting of the three.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Double: 1. Left to Right 2a. Angels 2b. Awake Nu

Personnel: Double: Mats Gustafsson (alto and tenor saxophones); Ken Vandermark (clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor saxophone); Kent Kessler and Ingebrigt Håker-Flaten (bass);

Kjell Nordeson and Hamid Drake (drums)

Track Listing: In: 1. Another Double 2. Off the Top 3. What About 4. Shift 5. Octopus 6. Loose Blues 7. Elephantasy

Personnel: In: Jeb Bishop (trombone); Ken Vandermark (clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor saxophone); Kjell Nordeson (vibraphone); Ingebrigt Håker-Flaten (bass); Paal Nilssen-Love (drums)

Track Listing: Version: 1. Back of a Cab 2. Reasonable Hour 3. Size Large 4. Journeyman 5. She Just Got Here 6. Clocked 7. Rothko Sideways 8. Force at a Distance 9. All Frequencies

Personnel: Version: Ken Vandermark (clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor and baritone saxophones); Nate McBride (bass and electric bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

September 2, 2002

PETER BRÖTZMANN TENTET PLUS TWO

Short Visit To Nowhere
Okka Disk OD 12043

PETER BRÖTZMANN TENTET PLUS TWO
Broken English
Okka Disk OD 12044

Three years after it was first organized and a year after it first toured, Peter Brötzmann’s Chicago Tentet (Plus Two in this case) displays, in these 2000 recordings, that it has become an exemplary example of how to adopt free improv to large aggregations.

With a mixed cast of seven Chicagoans, three members from New York state, a Swede and Brötzmann, a German, it has all the firepower of a traditional big band with its eight horns. Plus, the three-man string section and two percussionists ensure that not only is its bottom covered -- so to speak -- but that the strings can alternately meld with the horns or shore up the rhythm section. Also, while the German reedman wrote two of the compositions, he’s democratic enough to make room for one piece each by Chicago multi-woodwind player Ken Vandermark, Swedish reedist Mats Gustafsson and Chicago cellist/violinist Fred Lonberg-Holm.

The brass section is made up of New York trumpeter/flugelhornist Roy Campbell, Chicago trombonist Jeb Bishop and Poughkeepsie, N.Y.’s Joe McPhee, who put his saxes aside to concentrate on trumpet and valve trombone. Vandermark’s closest associate Kent Kessler and Manhattanite William Parker, who has a long history with Brötzmann, combine on basses; while Michael Zerang on drums and Hamid Drake on drums, frame drum and voice --both from Chicago -- handle the percussion chores.

Experienced with many large European aggregations, most notably the pan-European Globe Unity Orchestra, Brötzmann appears to know how much freedom to give his posse of star soloists and when to rein them in. On both discs, for instance, you hear a lot more than you would in a conventional jazz big band where star soloists taking their turn at the mike while the remainder riff anonymously. Sure, there’s plenty of solo space available -- how could it be otherwise with the shortest tune more than 13 minutes and the longest almost 43 (!) -- but there are also definite group passages.

Take “Stonewater” on BROKEN ENGLISH, which expanded by another six minutes since it was first recorded in concert at the Festival International de Musique Actuelle in 1999. Intense, stratosphere blats from the massed horns serve as connective leitmotifs once the piece gets going. New is a six-minute intro that finds Drake chanting and playing hand drum. Then, after some tarogato puffs from Brötz, all hell breaks loose in such a way that it must have brought back fond memories of the in-your-face opening of the tenor man’s 1968 MACHINE GUN. As the succeeding soloists take centrestage, er… studio, the saxes provide their avant version of a Count Basie horn section, chugging away in the background.

As this piece -- and the others on the two CDs -- unrolls, however, the major criticism of the session is evident as well. With no identification of soloists, one can only make educated guesses as to who plays what. Before Kessler and Parker combine for some saw-toothed buzzing, the guttural sax tongue slapping you hear probably comes from Gustafsson, while the pastoral clarinet portion is likely Vandermark’s work. After a quasi-Dixieland interlude heavy on liquid clarinet lines and pointed trumpet, not to mention Gustafsson using his baritone to make like bass sax blaster Adrian Rollini, the speedy yet gravelly ‘bone lines probably come from McPhee’s valve.

Eras and styles blend as well. For example, when the walking basses and bomb dropping bass drum section make up one pulse, the massed sax section functions as stalwart, bar-walking R&B honkers. Finally one -- Brötz (?) -- breaks free from the pack for an extended a cappella stop time solo that goes from screaming altissimo split tones to gut-wrenching overblowing. Eventually scraped arco strings give way to a toboggan ride of brass slides and slurs, and the tune culminates in a Mingusian crescendo.

Or take Lonberg-Holm’s “Lightbox”. Beginning with a muted trumpet -- probably played by Campbell -- McPhee and Bishop soon come on like an up-to-date Jay & Kai, romping through slide and valve positions until pizzicato strings give way to the massed cacophony of many reeds. After that there’s a sax face off, with one exploring every extended aviary technique to build to a crescendo, while the other -- apparently Gustafsson -- produces a funk thump that could fit in the bands of James Brown or Ray Charles. Pseudo-human cries, courtesy of the reeds, and arcing orchestral brass sum up the tune, which after several false endings stops on a dime -- or maybe a Euro.

Strangely enough, Williams’ “Hold That Thought” on the same CD sounds more like a revved up Ellington band than the Gustafsson piece named for the Duke that follows it. Of course, with what is likely Vandermark’s Klezmer-like clarinet passages, it would be an Ellington who was as familiar with (old) Odessa as New Orleans and know Bialystok as well as Baltimore. There’s also a Latin influence, with sections where the horns seem to play “La Cucuracha”. Campbell’s notes sail on top of the charts the way trumpeter Cat Anderson’s did with Ellington, while Bishop’s double-time plunger work, calls forth answering chords from the band like Tricky Sam Nanton’s did from the Duke’s Jungle band. Call this mainstream with avant-flourishes

Mention should also be made of the arrangement for “Short Visit To Nowhere”, one CD’s more-than-25-minute title track. Although there are a good number of scratches from the strings, bleats from the saxes and smears from the brass, there’s still room for what sounds like an electric guitar working out of a Jimi Hendrix bag, which is probably Lonberg-Holm on fiddle. The German saxophonist’s writing allow different sections of the group to be emphasized at different times. For instance, stroked buzzes coalesce into the creation of avant string trio, modulating up and down the stops at one point; and a modern reed battle between what’s probably Williams’ squalling alto and Brötz or Vandermark’s unhurried clarinet lines erupt at another point.

One could go on and on. While it’s frightening to think how good the Brötzmann band of any size must sound now, with two more years together, it’s easy to praise both of these CDs. Although available singly, they’re actually one of a piece, the way the cover photo on each can be joined to make one consistent image.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Short: 1. Hold That Thought 2. Ellington 3. Short Visit To Nowhere 4. Lightbox

Track Listing: Broken: 1. Stonewater 2. Broken English

Personnel on both discs: Roy Campbell (trumpet, flugelhorn); Joe McPhee (trumpet, valve trombone); Jeb Bishop(trombone); Peter Brötzmann (tenor saxophone, clarinet, tarogato); Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet); Mars Williams (alto and tenor saxophone); Mats Gustafsson (tenor and baritone saxophones); Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello, violin); Kent Kesler (bass); William Parker (bass, log drum); Michael Zerang (drums); Hamid Drake (drums, frame-drum, voice)

June 7, 2002

DKV Trio

Trigonometry
Okka Disk 12042

There’s nothing like constant touring to make any ensemble tighter and its members more responsive to one another. That’s why established jazz combos of the 1950s and 1960s sounded so good. However at that time the often near miraculous timing, instant inspiration and embellishments that resulted from a well-received in-person engagement were often lost unless the band was lucky enough to be recorded on the road.

One of saxophonist Ken Vandermark’s many working units, the all-star DKV trio is a contemporary bands that recognizes the advantages of road work and on-the-spot recording. This exemplary two-CD set, recorded last year in Rochester, N.Y. and Kalamazoo, Mich., showcases how the three treat a mixture of original and classic free jazz material. Most instructive are how different versions of compositions by trumpeter Don Cherry sound in each city.

“Brown Rice” for instance, is introduced with a bass solo from longtime Vandermark associate Kent Kessler in Rochester, and is dispensed with in slightly more than 4½ minutes, after it’s probed through the kaleidoscope of Vandermak’s bass clarinet. Key pops and sonorous reverberations from the curved clarinet introduce the same piece in Kalamazoo, which stretches to 10½ minutes. Very soon it becomes a woodwind-string duet as Vandermark bears down on his horn and Kessler constructs circular patterns. When the forceful, steady beat of drummer Hamid Drake pushes the reedman to come up with one of the first recorded (literally) examples of honky-tonk bass clarinet, the tune is reconfigured as a straightforward romp.

On the other hand consider “The Thing”. In both upstate New York and Michigan, with Vandermark on riffing tenor, it becomes a highly rhythmic foot tapper that sounds as if it would be more comfortable under the fingers of tough Texas saxists like Cherry bandmates Dewey Redman or Ornette Coleman, then played by the holistic trumpeter. More exuberant and in-your-face in Rochester, Drake’s percussive pushing and prodding helps advance the piece, proving that his ongoing relationship with funk and world music is a plus for his improv work. About the same length as it is in Kalamazoo, where it’s used as a set closer, Rochester’s “Thing” gives Kessler enough space to show off his arco technique and lead the trio into “Brown Rice”.

Interestingly enough Vancermark’s tenor tones introduce “Awake Nu,” the third Cherry line, with glossolalia straight out of Albert Ayler’s “Ghosts”. Meanwhile the other two lay down a rock solid bass lines and powerful drum strokes to update Gary Peacock and Sunny Murray the way the saxist does Ayler’s legacy. At nearly 21 minutes the Rochester version gives the other two what Ayler’s sideman never had -- enough room to sound solo. Drake uses his space by introducing variegated cymbal and bass drum patterns and some well-placed rim shots, while apparently steel-fingered Kessler constructs a multi-string modulation that adds some equanimity to the proceedings. Why the reedist is double-timing an ascending line that sounds like an outside version of Shirley Ellis’s “The Name Game” immediately afterwards is a question to be pondered though.

Antithetically, strains of Duke Ellington’s “Take The Coltrane” are coupled with “Awake Nu” in less than 7½ minutes in Kalamazoo. Elaborating the medley in full altissimo mode, at first Vandermark seems to be mixing “I’ve Been Workin’ On the Railroad” with “Ghosts” while Drake hammers out an even speedier rhythm. This half free/half R&B treatment is the way Ayler, who did one memorable tour with Cherry, would also have played. And, if you get into it, in their own ways John Coltrane and Ellington also mixed and matched compositional and playing styles to fit their moods.

Occasionally, with his many projects and bands in North America and overseas, it appears as if Vandermark is spreading his talents a little too thin. Yet, as long as he has musically stalwart peers such as Drake and Kessler to keep him focused, he’ll continue to turn out fine discs like these.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Disc One: 1. Awake Nu 2. The Thing 3. Brown Rice 4. Good-Bye Tom B.

5. Lift Disc Two: 1. East Broadway Run Down 2. 3. Awake Nu/Take The Coltrane 4. Brown Rice 5. Red And Black 6. Love Cry 7. The Thing

Personnel: Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet); Kent Kessler (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

April 26, 2002

PETER BRÖTZMANN & DIE LIKE A DOG QUARTET

Aoyama Crows
FMP CD 118

Bearing in mind that these four busy musicians have been playing together irregularly for a little less than a decade, they’ve coalesced into one of reedist Peter Brötzmann’s most accomplished units. That’s some achievement for a part time combo, considering that past Brötz bands have included some genre definers as saxophonists Frank Wright and Evan Parker, trombonist Paul Rutherford, bassist Peter Kowald and drummers Han Bennink and Louis Moholo.

Singly or together, rhythm section alchemists --- bassist William Parker, linchpin of a dozen bands in New York’s Lower East Side, and drummer Hamid Drake, Chicago’s most in-demand percussionist -- can apparently move any playing situation onto the gold standard. But the wild card here is Japanese trumpeter Toshinori Kondo, whose electronic treatments add an unusual found sound texture not found in the saxophonist’s other projects, not to mention being the first trumpeter with whom the saxophonist has had a long term relationship.

Of course Brötz is no slouch either in the creative department either. Vigorous or exhausted -- as he apparently was on this date -- the 61-year-old road warrior is still as capable of boundless energy and gut-shredding intensity as he was on his first LP, FOR ADOLPHE SAX, in 1967. What has changed over the years -- and which is now demonstrated when the saxophonist picks up his clarinet or tarogato -- is the unsentimental lyricism that has crept into some of his playing.

Although the music is more-or-less continuous, track three gives you some idea of how it operates. Quieter than anything you would imagine from Wuppertal’s most strident citizen, Brötzmann’s renal cry on the tarogato is first seconded by Parker’s speedy arco bass licks and Drake’s palming of a few percussive sounds. Then Kondo gradually appears through a sort of electronic fog, trilling and chirping in such a way that it seems as if he’s playing a melodica rather than a trumpet.

Manipulating the sound source as much as his instrument, the trumpeter’s Daffy Duck-like squawk is soon overruled by fluid clarinet tones that climb into higher and higher registers. By the conclusion, as Parker elaborates a steady bass pulse and Drake sizzles his cymbals, Kondo spits out twin tones that could as easily come from a toy trumpet or a PVC tube as his brass axe.

Even ignoring electronics, Kondo, who has labored in the avant-trenches for decades with the likes of British pianist Steve Beresford, possesses an inimitable sound. On the first track, for example, his distinctive half-valve growls and muted triple tonguing arrive long before the kilowatts. Then when he really plugs in, at times his brass flurries appear to bounce off the stage lights. Still later his squeal and horse whinnies create a unique vibration that sounds as if he’s blowing through a comb and tissue paper. Finally he ends his mouthy excursion with impulses that may remind many of a rock/funk guitarist exercising his wah wah pedals rather than a brass tone.

Ceding no ground, Brötzmann sans electronics lets loose on tenor saxophone with the kind of exploding, lung-bruising multiphonics that have defined his identity from the beginning. Just before the coda, though, the saxman yanks out his clarinet. Sticking mostly to the lowest register, he devises some dissonant double timed runs to pair with the muted brass.

While all this is going on upfront, the bassist is rhythmically prodding the piece forward, steady as a pilot directing a dreadnought through a stormy sea. Here he’s usually aided and abetted by the drummer, who decorates Parker’s undivided time keeping with frills and fills, sometimes turning the beat around.

In the past Brötzmann has been part of memorable combos that for all intent and purposes defined EuroImprov. Now in his authoritative maturity he’s recruited three exceptional non-Europeans to illustrate with him the shape of global improv.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. 27’46” 2. 15’ 51” 3. 22’40” 4. 3’52”

Personnel: Toshinori Kondo (trumpet, electronics); Peter Brötzmann (tarogato, alto clarinet, tenor saxophone); William Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

March 29, 2002

ASSIF TSAHAR/HAMID DRAKE

Soul Bodies, Vol. 1
Ayler aylCD-0024

ASSIF TSAHAR/HAMID DRAKE/PETER KOWALD/HUGH RAGIN
Open Systems
Marge 28

Stripped down to music’s internal skeleton, real-time improvisation is so basic that it can often be as chancy as trying to reconstruct a human being from his bone structure alone. But when it does work, the results are as spectacular as the accomplishments of anthropologists who use the properties of a few bone shards to discover nearly everything about a vanished personage.

Master drummer Hamid Drake and reedman Assif Tsahar pull out their symbolic pick axes and labor in the improv trenches at 2001’s Vision Festival in New York on SOUL BODIES. During the course of three long pieces they firmly and distinctively bring into being living, breathing bodies of outstanding improvisations. If they miscalculate in any way, it’s in not spending enough time solidifying the souls to enlighten these improv creatures.

Three weeks previously, Drake and Tsahar were in Paris as guests at a friend’s wedding. Turning the celebration into a busman’s holiday, the two subsequently went into a studio with veteran German bassist Peter Kowald and American trumpeter Hugh Ragin, who were specifically invited to take part, and produced OPEN SYSTEMS. It’s more than 72½ minutes spread among seven compositions that relate as much to hard core energy music of the late 1960s as the former disc does to spirituality.

Israeli-born, Tsahar, 32, has played with such young and older sonic investigators as bassists William Parker drummers Susie Ibarra and Rashied Ali since he arrived in the New York at 21. Fourteen years older, Chicago’s Drake has had a decades-long association with tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson, and over the years has also anchored bands with such other powerful saxophonists as Ken Vandermark and Peter Brötzmann. Kowald, 57, was Brötzmann’s associate as a European first generation free jazzer in the 1960s. Since then he has worked with almost every major Continental and American explorer and recently recorded an album with Tsahar and Ali. Known for membership in bands lead by reedmen David Murray and Roscoe Mitchell, Ragin, 50, is acting director of Jazz Studies at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music in Ohio, when he’s not collaborating with other forward-looking musicians.

See the Drake-Tsahar partnership as a musical marriage made in heaven on the first CD and you won’t be far wrong. Essentially what you hear is free jazz at its freest. The idea is to play until you can’t play any more … and than play some more. That doesn’t mean that anything is perfunctory or histrionic either. Between them, the two have too many years of study and experience for that.

While the booklet notes talk about the musicians’ ability to master hemiola -- playing three against two patterns -- and melodic and harmonic excursions on dominant and subordinate chords, the result isn’t technical in the least. On tenor, Tsahar produces a compendium of energetic effects, from protracted sheets of sound, sardonic, sonic blasts, repeated freak notes and slashing tone runs whose closest antecedent was Albert Ayler’s freaky circus band concept. He will sometimes construct whole, protracted sections in altissimo and other times produce enough multiphonics to resemble a brace of saxophones. Everything here takes place at full throttle, with forward motion sometimes giving way to miniscule melodies that resemble Sonny Rollins’ “East Broadway Run Down” or even “Listen to the Mockingbird”.

Not to be outdone by the reed and metal twists and turns, Drake keeps up a constant percussive barrage, encompassing a sufficient number of drum rolls, cymbal shimmers and bass drum accents. When he solos, the beat never lets up and there are times he too suggests the strength and power of more than one percussionist. Yet unlike showy rock drummers, he never becomes overbearing, and his segueways mesh perfectly with the sax work.

“Clay Dancers”, featuring Drake accompanying himself on frame drum and vocals and Tsahar on woody bass clarinet, is the only soul respite from the sheer physicality of the body music of the other tracks. Producing lingual tones that appropriately resemble both a muezzin’s call to prayer and a cantor’s incantation during a synagogue service, Drake’s percussive, accentuated chanting and Tsahar’s indivisible runs from one end of his curved horn to the other combine to create a whirling Dervish-like near-religious ecstasy. All music has similar roots, and the two prove it here.

Perhaps on a promised Vol. 2 of this session, the more peaceful side of the music will be elaborated as well. No matter, as it stands now the only drawback of this disc is that Drake’s first name is misspelled as “Hammid” on the front cover.

With additional recruits, the tenor saxophonist and drummer turn more to the song form on OPEN SYSTEMS, but despite the background of a wedding celebration this is no sylvan collection of smooth candlelight-and-wine love songs. Instead the Paris studio is the scene of some of the raunchiest energy music produced since members of the Art Ensemble and tenor man Frank Wright were regular residents of the French capital.

Take the saxman’s “The Lizards in the Maze”, one of four Tsahar compositions elaborated here. Beginning with a powerful Wilbur Ware-type string-punishing intro courtesy of Kowald, the freebop head soon gives way to a selection of solos. Even when he soars at the top of his range, Ragin still properly balances every note. In contrast, the tenorist’s tone sometimes slips into altissimo, but is always made up of staccato-inflected sound particles. Probably reminding Drake of his long-time employer Anderson, the percussionist usually meets Tsahar’s steaming thrusts with protracted tattoos, then follows the duet with a calm but heartfelt solo that starts off heavy on the snares and cymbals, but then turns proper attention to all parts of the kit.

Building from an early Ornette Coleman Quartet type of head, “The Call” offers more of the same, with Drake in his Ed Blackwell role providing a steady rat-tat-tat and Kowald as Charlie Haden providing the rhythmic bottom. On “Lonely Woman” --

a real Coleman line -- he authors a solo which has the different strings on his instrument dialoguing with themselves, and that let’s you know that his assumed identity here was just momentary role playing. Channeling Don Cherry, who spent some time in Paris himself, Ragin not only to creates whinnies and smears to follow Tsahar’s lead, but manages to expose a tiny, melodic passage of modulated beauty, built on short, sharp ascending horn bursts. Odd man out with his tenor tone obviously closer to John Coltrane’s or Ayler’s than Coleman’s alto conception, Tsahar spews out a well-nuanced solo, and after time spent chasing the brass man through the stratosphere, elaborates another motif that drags everyone back to the initial theme.

This drawing together seems to be the motif behind Tsahar’s “Dream Weaverts”(sic), dedicated to the newly married couple. Although Ragin, using a sort of funky burr sometimes sounds as if he’s playing Charles Mingus’ “Weird Nightmare” or Ayler’s “The Truth Is Marching In” -- and what are the brassman’s views on marriage? -- the bowed bass and bass clarinet mirror one another with irregular reverberating vibrations. Despite sections where each horn appears to be heading in a contrasting direction, they pull back to meld together before the end. Is there a wedlock partnership metaphor here somewhere?

Finally, Drake presages the pietistic passages he’d be singing three weeks hence in New York on “Hearts Remembrance”, where his measured Arabic (?) chanting is complimented by reverberating didgeridoo-like vocal sounds from Kowald and Ragin. Manipulating the buzz of the frame drum and adapting the bass clarinet’s natural resonance and some meshed, muted trumpet, the four allude to timeless, primitive music, that by title again suggests the newlyweds, and in sound references the duo CD.

Each of these CDs offer exceptional showcases for two younger improvisers already on their way to be recognized as major stylists. Whether you prefer the duo straight or in a larger, economy side with extra musical ingredients is up to you.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Soul: 1. Introduction 2. Soul Bodies 3. Clay Dancers 4. Heart’s Mind

Personnel: Soul: Assif Tsahar (tenor saxophone, bass clarinet); Hamid Drake (drums, frame drum, vocal)

Track Listing: Open: 1. Lonely Woman 2. The Lizards in the Maze 3. Fathers and Mothers (For Albert Ayler) 4. Hearts Remembrance 5. Standing Motion 6. Dream Weaverts 7. The Call

Personnel: Open: Hugh Ragin (trumpet); Assif Tsahar (tenor saxophone, bass clarinet); Peter Kowald (bass, voice); Hamid Drake (drums, frame drum, voice)

March 1, 2002

FRED ANDERSON

On The Run
Delmark DE-534

FRED ANDERSON
Dark Day
Atavistic Unheard Music UMS/ALP 218 CD

Good things come to those who wait is an expression that was never has more currency than when it’s applied to the career of brawny Chicago tenor sax stylist Fred Anderson. Anderson, was practically unknown and definitely under-documented for almost three decades after his recording debut on Joseph Jarman’s SONG FOR in 1966.

Today that’s all changed. He practically doesn’t have the time to play at and manage his bar, The Velvet Lounge, in Chicago’s near South Side, so busy is he travelling in North America and Europe and working with his own bands and other members of the improv community. He even has a personal manager.

Because of this, CDs of newer and archive material are continuously being released. ON THE RUN, for instance, was recorded in March 2000 at the Velvet Lounge. DARK DAY, which dates from 1979, couples a quartet session done in Chicago with a never-before-released souvenir of the same band’s appearance at a festival in Verona Italy.

One glance at the personnel gives an idea of Anderson’s appeal and persistence. Drummer Hamid Drake is on both sessions, recorded 21 years apart, while quartet trumpeter Billy Brimfield regularly plays with Anderson to this day. ON THE RUN’s bass duties are handled by Tatsu Aoki, a long time Anderson associate, who often leads his own Asian-American projects in Chicago, while the unknown Steve Palmore was on hand in 1979.

As a literal record of what a typical set at Velvet Lounge sounds like, the new CD is instructive. But, like many performances put together without recording in mind, a certain sameness creeps in after a while. It’s not that the playing isn’t good. Exciting playing is given an added impetus by immediacy and location. On disc, though, certain planning should be done with art that’s going to be consulted again and again -- especially when only a trio is involved.

The disc starts out promisingly enough with a breath-taking 4½-minute unaccompanied tenor solo from Anderson, with his hard, harsh tone reverberating throughout the room. It certainly proves that at 71, Anderson has lost none of his stamina or inventiveness.

However when Aoki and Drake get a chance to individually take solos on the final two tracks, each wisely limits himself, allowing the other two to spell them before they go too far. Aoki’s archer’s pull on the strings works because Anderson places a short, jaunty melody in its vicinity, begins trading fours with Drake and interests the bassist in creating percussion sounds on the side of his instrument, punctuating that with the odd string pluck. Later the saxophonist’s Sonny Rollins-like Caribbean-Latin phrases and some bass runs leaven Drake’s work out on the final track before the drummer becomes overbearing. Seemingly the saxophonist still has more energy than his younger compatriots.

As a matter of fact, it appears that this session works best when the other two get out of the way and give Anderson all the room he needs. Even on the slower numbers he builds his solos out of knife-sharp single notes embellished with the occasional protracted tone swoop, sometimes digging down to baritone range. To keep up, Drake will often splash his cymbals, begin tapping on cowbells, or introduce Art Blakey-style press rolls. Aoki, on the other hand, will move the beat up and down, sometimes appearing to entangle himself at the very top of the bass neck. When that happens, the saxophonist has to call one or both back to the theme with something that resembles a higher-pitched clarion. Fewer solos and more group music would have improved then situation.

It’s a different story on the 1979 discs, centred around the two-part harmonies which Anderson and Brimfield even then had been working on for years. The difference is that on tunes like “Saxoon” Anderson plays the same as he does today -- and probably did in the 1960s -- while the trumpeter works in a quicksilver, freebop, almost hard bop style. The same thing happens on the title tune with the saxophonist honking and double-timing, backed by thunderous bass chords, while Brimfield’s work seems more conservative.

Proceedings get a little harder and rougher on the Chicago version of “Three On Two”. Especially impressive is when the sax player begins constructing variations upon variations on a tune he obviously knows well and is instantaneously joined by the snare and cymbals of Drake. Reminiscent of Jimmy Garrison, the previously and afterwards unknown Palmore asserts himself with a bowed bass interlude that while a little screechy in the upper register at least allows him to sound two strings simultaneously. As he strums, plucks and bows Drake brings out his mallets for a firmer attack.

Only 23 at the time, his own “The Prayer” -- now called “Bombay[Children of Cambodia]” and still played today -- highlights the drummer’s future stature. He performs the leisurely composition on tablas, gradually revving up the tempo as his notes are mirrored by the bassist playing in cello range and sharp trumpet lines.

Brimfield was in particularly fine form four days later at the Verona Jazz Festival, creating some of the most unfettered and edgy improvisations of his career. Palmore and Drake sound fine as well, but much of Anderson’s work is sabotaged by the recording equipment. Somehow the mikes seems to have been placed in such a way that the rhythm section is overloud and the saxophonist consistently distant. It gets a little irritating to try to hear him solo in the background as the bass and drums loudly accompany him in foreground

On this version of “Three On Two”, which counts in at about twice the length of the Chicago one, he nearly disappears at the beginning of the track, only to be succeeded by the trumpeter when he starts to pick up speed. Brimfield is exceptional, though, playing with the familiar melody the way Anderson did in Chicago and pumping out little ditties in the course of his solo. Drake’s subtle cymbal timbres frame the saxophonist, unlike the rest of his drum kit, and when he can be heard more clearly Anderson seems to be building his contribution out of single notes held for inordinate lengths of time.

Balance is almost restored on “Dark Days” - - which is also, in a shorter version, on disc one -- as the saxist and brassman create some two-part harmony, playing parallel lines and almost the same notes at complimentary tempos and pitches. On his own, perhaps conscious of the strange mike placement, Anderson appears to be biting off little parts of the head and playing rugged variations on them. Even Palmore gets into the spirit, producing tough, guitar-like strums.

So there you have it, three live views of Fred Anderson’s art, recorded at different times and places with mike placement, crowd sounds, impressive improv flights and mistakes preserved for all to hear.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Run: 1.Ladies in Love 2. On The Run 3. Smooth Velvet 4. Tatu’s Groove 5. Hamid’s On Fire

Personnel: Run: Fred Anderson (tenor saxophone); Tatsu Aoki (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

Track Listing: Dark: Disc 1: 1. Dark Day 2. Saxoon 3. Three on Two 4. The Prayer. D Disc 2: 1: The Bull 2. Three on Two 3. Dark Day

Personnel: Dark: Billy Brimfield (trumpet); Anderson; Steve Palmore (bass); Drake (drums)

December 24, 2001

ASSIF TSAHAR/HAMID DRAKE

Soul Bodies, Vol. 1
Ayler aylCD-0024

ASSIF TSAHAR/HAMID DRAKE/PETER KOWALD/HUGH RAGIN
Open Systems
Marge 28

Stripped down to music’s internal skeleton, real-time improvisation is so basic that it can often be as chancy as trying to reconstruct a human being from his bone structure alone. But when it does work, the results are as spectacular as the accomplishments of anthropologists who use the properties of a few bone shards to discover nearly everything about a vanished personage.

Master drummer Hamid Drake and reedman Assif Tsahar pull out their symbolic pick axes and labor in the improv trenches at 2001’s Vision Festival in New York on SOUL BODIES. During the course of three long pieces they firmly and distinctively bring into being living, breathing bodies of outstanding improvisations. If they miscalculate in any way, it’s in not spending enough time solidifying the souls to enlighten these improv creatures.

Three weeks previously, Drake and Tsahar were in Paris as guests at a friend’s wedding. Turning the celebration into a busman’s holiday, the two subsequently went into a studio with veteran German bassist Peter Kowald and American trumpeter Hugh Ragin, who were specifically invited to take part, and produced OPEN SYSTEMS. It’s more than 72½ minutes spread among seven compositions that relate as much to hard core energy music of the late 1960s as the former disc does to spirituality.

Israeli-born, Tsahar, 32, has played with such young and older sonic investigators as bassists William Parker drummers Susie Ibarra and Rashied Ali since he arrived in the New York at 21. Fourteen years older, Chicago’s Drake has had a decades-long association with tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson, and over the years has also anchored bands with such other powerful saxophonists as Ken Vandermark and Peter Brötzmann. Kowald, 57, was Brötzmann’s associate as a European first generation free jazzer in the 1960s. Since then he has worked with almost every major Continental and American explorer and recently recorded an album with Tsahar and Ali. Known for membership in bands lead by reedmen David Murray and Roscoe Mitchell, Ragin, 50, is acting director of Jazz Studies at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music in Ohio, when he’s not collaborating with other forward-looking musicians.

See the Drake-Tsahar partnership as a musical marriage made in heaven on the first CD and you won’t be far wrong. Essentially what you hear is free jazz at its freest. The idea is to play until you can’t play any more … and than play some more. That doesn’t mean that anything is perfunctory or histrionic either. Between them, the two have too many years of study and experience for that.

While the booklet notes talk about the musicians’ ability to master hemiola -- playing three against two patterns -- and melodic and harmonic excursions on dominant and subordinate chords, the result isn’t technical in the least. On tenor, Tsahar produces a compendium of energetic effects, from protracted sheets of sound, sardonic, sonic blasts, repeated freak notes and slashing tone runs whose closest antecedent was Albert Ayler’s freaky circus band concept. He will sometimes construct whole, protracted sections in altissimo and other times produce enough multiphonics to resemble a brace of saxophones. Everything here takes place at full throttle, with forward motion sometimes giving way to miniscule melodies that resemble Sonny Rollins’ “East Broadway Run Down” or even “Listen to the Mockingbird”.

Not to be outdone by the reed and metal twists and turns, Drake keeps up a constant percussive barrage, encompassing a sufficient number of drum rolls, cymbal shimmers and bass drum accents. When he solos, the beat never lets up and there are times he too suggests the strength and power of more than one percussionist. Yet unlike showy rock drummers, he never becomes overbearing, and his segueways mesh perfectly with the sax work.

“Clay Dancers”, featuring Drake accompanying himself on frame drum and vocals and Tsahar on woody bass clarinet, is the only soul respite from the sheer physicality of the body music of the other tracks. Producing lingual tones that appropriately resemble both a muezzin’s call to prayer and a cantor’s incantation during a synagogue service, Drake’s percussive, accentuated chanting and Tsahar’s indivisible runs from one end of his curved horn to the other combine to create a whirling Dervish-like near-religious ecstasy. All music has similar roots, and the two prove it here.

Perhaps on a promised Vol. 2 of this session, the more peaceful side of the music will be elaborated as well. No matter, as it stands now the only drawback of this disc is that Drake’s first name is misspelled as “Hammid” on the front cover.

With additional recruits, the tenor saxophonist and drummer turn more to the song form on OPEN SYSTEMS, but despite the background of a wedding celebration this is no sylvan collection of smooth candlelight-and-wine love songs. Instead the Paris studio is the scene of some of the raunchiest energy music produced since members of the Art Ensemble and tenor man Frank Wright were regular residents of the French capital.

Take the saxman’s “The Lizards in the Maze”, one of four Tsahar compositions elaborated here. Beginning with a powerful Wilbur Ware-type string-punishing intro courtesy of Kowald, the freebop head soon gives way to a selection of solos. Even when he soars at the top of his range, Ragin still properly balances every note. In contrast, the tenorist’s tone sometimes slips into altissimo, but is always made up of staccato-inflected sound particles. Probably reminding Drake of his long-time employer Anderson, the percussionist usually meets Tsahar’s steaming thrusts with protracted tattoos, then follows the duet with a calm but heartfelt solo that starts off heavy on the snares and cymbals, but then turns proper attention to all parts of the kit.

Building from an early Ornette Coleman Quartet type of head, “The Call” offers more of the same, with Drake in his Ed Blackwell role providing a steady rat-tat-tat and Kowald as Charlie Haden providing the rhythmic bottom. On “Lonely Woman” --

a real Coleman line -- he authors a solo which has the different strings on his instrument dialoguing with themselves, and that let’s you know that his assumed identity here was just momentary role playing. Channeling Don Cherry, who spent some time in Paris himself, Ragin not only to creates whinnies and smears to follow Tsahar’s lead, but manages to expose a tiny, melodic passage of modulated beauty, built on short, sharp ascending horn bursts. Odd man out with his tenor tone obviously closer to John Coltrane’s or Ayler’s than Coleman’s alto conception, Tsahar spews out a well-nuanced solo, and after time spent chasing the brass man through the stratosphere, elaborates another motif that drags everyone back to the initial theme.

This drawing together seems to be the motif behind Tsahar’s “Dream Weaverts”(sic), dedicated to the newly married couple. Although Ragin, using a sort of funky burr sometimes sounds as if he’s playing Charles Mingus’ “Weird Nightmare” or Ayler’s “The Truth Is Marching In” -- and what are the brassman’s views on marriage? -- the bowed bass and bass clarinet mirror one another with irregular reverberating vibrations. Despite sections where each horn appears to be heading in a contrasting direction, they pull back to meld together before the end. Is there a wedlock partnership metaphor here somewhere?

Finally, Drake presages the pietistic passages he’d be singing three weeks hence in New York on “Hearts Remembrance”, where his measured Arabic (?) chanting is complimented by reverberating didgeridoo-like vocal sounds from Kowald and Ragin. Manipulating the buzz of the frame drum and adapting the bass clarinet’s natural resonance and some meshed, muted trumpet, the four allude to timeless, primitive music, that by title again suggests the newlyweds, and in sound references the duo CD.

Each of these CDs offer exceptional showcases for two younger improvisers already on their way to be recognized as major stylists. Whether you prefer the duo straight or in a larger, economy side with extra musical ingredients is up to you.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Soul: 1. Introduction 2. Soul Bodies 3. Clay Dancers 4. Heart’s Mind

Personnel: Soul: Assif Tsahar (tenor saxophone, bass clarinet); Hamid Drake (drums, frame drum, vocal)

Track Listing: Open: 1. Lonely Woman 2. The Lizards in the Maze 3. Fathers and Mothers (For Albert Ayler) 4. Hearts Remembrance 5. Standing Motion 6. Dream Weaverts 7. The Call

Personnel: Open: Hugh Ragin (trumpet); Assif Tsahar (tenor saxophone, bass clarinet); Peter Kowald (bass, voice); Hamid Drake (drums, frame drum, voice)

March 1, 2001

JOE MCPHEE/HAMID DRAKE

Emancipation Proclamation
Okka Disk OD 12036

Recorded in front of an enthusiastic Chicago crowd two years ago, this CD is an object lesson in how to create an effective program of free music.

Of course it helps that the participants are two of the most accomplished players in that idiom. There's Hamid Drake, MVP (most valuable percussionist) for everyone from bassist William Parker to saxophonists Fred Anderson and Peter Brötzmann; and multi-instrumentalist Joe McPhee, who over the past three decades has turned out an impressive body of work while remaining true to his own vision.

One of the first Americans to forge lasting links with sympathetic European improvisers, McPhee is probably the only musicians who excited others to such an extent that two different record companies -- CJR and HatHut -- were initially created to release his work. The pride of Poughkeepsie, N.Y. is self-effacing enough in both his trumpet and tenor saxophone work. Yet deep listening to the shape of his solos on tracks like "Mother Africa" pinpoints the enthralling qualities within the music. His work suggests as much as it expresses, never hammering a point when a pinprick will do. Yet he doesn't shrink from volume if it's needed.

Furthermore, his sound is certainly wedded to the music's roots; no matter how far out he might seem to some. In another time and place, his solo saxophone encore, "Hate Crime Cries", could be pure rural blues, as McPhee forces cries as anguished as a Delta songster's story through reed and metal. Earlier, his hushed version of Billie Holiday's signature tune, "God Bless the Child", subtlety backed by Drake's brushes, proves that something heartfelt and romantic can be created without resorting to syrup. Immediately afterwards, on the title track, he unleashes a molten sound-slab of tenor energy as intense as anything heard in Free Jazz's 1960s heyday.

No basher, Windy City homeboy Drake scatters his accents with the precision of a surgeon performing a biopsy. In fact, the difference between his precise drum accompaniment to the tenor madness of "Emancipation Proclamation" and dry cymbal and snare tap dance he uses to amplify McPhee's pinched, breathy trumpet on "Mother Africa" is merely one of volume.

By the CD's end, the listener will likely be as enthused as the Midwestern audience.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Crises and Whispers 2. Mother Africa 3. God Bless the Child 4. Emancipation Proclamation 5. Hate Crime Cries

Personnel: Joe McPhee (pocket trumpet and tenor saxophone); Hamid Drake (drums, percussion)

January 25, 2001

WILLIAM PARKER

Painter’s Spring
Thirsty Ear TH 57088.2

One penalty for musical eclecticism is that most listeners don’t realize how well a musician proficient on many instruments can play on each of his axes. The prime example of someone who suffered for his inventiveness was multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk. He probably would have been recognized as a major tenor saxophone stylist if he had stuck to that horn, instead of the three he blew in tandem. Another unjustly obscure stylist is Daniel Carter. Manhattanite Carter, who is an impressive link in the cooperatives Other

Dimensions In Music and Test -- and who is the only hornman featured on this outstanding disc -- definitely suffers from the Kirk syndrome. Accomplished on tenor and alto saxophones, clarinet, flute and trumpet, it’s Carter’s curse to be seen more as a general utility player than a fine soloist.

Consider what he does here, though. Holding his own against Parker, who is probably the single most forceful four-string player around today and drummer Drake, who could power a locomotive if he had to, Cater doesn’t use his many horns for decoration but judiciously employs them where they best fit.

“Flash”, for instance, which begins as a showcase for Drake’s snares and cymbals, soon, thanks to Carter, evolves into a duet as he propels the melody through the upper registered of his post New Thing alto saxophone. “Foundation #1” and “Foundation #2” are straight-ahead tenor saxophone blowouts, with Carter unleashing double time stops and multiphonics. That doesn’t scare the others however, though it does give the listener a glimpse of how the promised, but aborted, Sonny Rollins-Charles Mingus-Max Roach trio session may have sounded.

Virtuosity is showcased on “Come Sunday” -- which doesn’t sound like the Duke Ellington classic it’s supposed to be -- as the hornman’s vaporous flute tones are succeeded by another persona in the form of durable, lower register clarinet lines. PAINTER’S SPRING is another exceptional showcase for Parker, who wrote all the tunes but two here. Like Charles Mingus, he’s at home with any size ensemble, while his compositional talents are matched only by his playing skills. For an instance of that, here the transformation of the old hymn, “There is a Balm in Gilead”, into a resonant, one-person tour-de-force.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Foundation #1 2. Come Sunday 3. Blues for Percy 4. Flash 5. There is a Balm in Gilead 6. Foundation #4 7. Foundation #2 8. Trilog

Personnel: Daniel Carter (alto and tenor saxophones, flute, clarinet); Willam Parker (bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

August 4, 2000

SPACEWAYS INCORPORATED

Thirteen Cosmic Standards
Atavistic ALP 120 CD

Asked once what he thought of Sun Ra's music, Funkadelic mainman George Clinton famously said: "He's out to lunch all right. The same place I eat at." Now for fanciers of these pioneer Black nationalist space travelers here's a tasty meal, courtesy of Spaceways Incorporated, that serves up several entrees from both men's oeuvre.

Now before anyone looking at the band's name fears that another Klaatu is on the scene, it should be pointed out that each member is identified on the disc. The trio is made up of two Chicagoans: multi-reedist Ken Vandermark, who seems to have as many side projects as McDonald's has hamburgers; and drummer Hamid Drake who has powered the ensembles of Peter Brötzmann and Fred Anderson among others; plus Boston-based acoustic/electric bassist Nate McBride.

Unlike jazz's neo-con crew who figure nothing can be a standard unless it was signed by Duke Ellington, plotted out by Jamey Aebersold or recorded by Miles Davis before 1965, this trio recognizes that the music is always growing and changing. As a composer on a similar level as Ellington and Charles Mingus, Ra definitely has a body of "standards" that deserves dissemination. As for Clinton, his tunes are as worthy to serve as improv springboards as anything created by Rogers & Hart or Lennon & McCartney.

In truth, it's the Ra compositions that have the edge here. Since despite its other virtues Clinton's is primarily vocal music, the Spaceways Three treat his tunes more or less the same way: as full throttle rockers, heavy on pounding, pile driver drum rhythms, electric bass backbeats and booting, this-side-of-Big-Jay-McNeeley tenor saxophone honks.

Ra's multi-faceted conceptions give the musicians more scope. Thus "Bassism" is recast as a rock-style groove tune, heavy on walking bass (what else?) and tenor saxophone runs; "Future" is enlivened with Evan Parker-like saxophone ejaculations; and Ra's biggest "hit" -- "We Travel The Spaceways" -- is given a mellow ballad feel with entwining clarinet and bass lines.

Now there are some who will blanch at the idea of a trio trying to replicate every nuance of the Arkestra and Funkadelic, but that's the whole point of this exercise. If jazz is to remain a living music any sort of inventive reinterpretation of its musical cannon is necessary and should be welcomed. Now if only more musicians would follow the lead of the three here.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Tapestry From An Asteroid 2. Alice In My Fantasies/Cosmic Slop 3. Street Named Hell 4. Trash A Go Go 5. Bassism 6. Red Hot Mama/Super Stupid 7. El Is The Sound of Joy 8. Future 9. You And Your Folks, Me And My Folks/Hit It And Quit It 10. We Travel The Spaceways

Personnel: Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet); Nate McBride (acoustic and electric bass); Hamid Drake (drums)

July 27, 2000

FRED ANDERSON

The Milwaukee Tapes Vol. 1
Atavistic/Unheard Music Series UMS/ALP 204 CD

If there's a trajectory that bisects the career of Chicago tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson it's the year 1993. Since that time there have been two or more CDs a year to trace the evolution of the 70-year-old AACM veteran as his fame spreads beyond the Windy City. Before that, there were only one or two scattered documents available of the playing of the brawny stylist once characterized as the "lone prophet of the Prairies" -- including his recording debut on Joseph Jarman's "Song For" in 1966.

Now thanks to Atavistic's Unheard Music Series, a prime cut of vintage Anderson circa 1980 has surfaced. The biggest surprise about it is no surprise. At that time Anderson was working with Brimfield and Drake two of the men he still works with today, and his playing was as accomplished then as it is today.

This isn't damning the man with faint praise, either. For anyone who has seen (or heard) Anderson improvise, will know that he puts a lie to the cliché that jazz is a young man's art. "The Bull" may be the title of one of tunes here, and it could describe the solid Anderson who forged ahead with his own vision of jazz for years even if it meant he had to work at non-musical jobs and face critical indifference.

Look at this CD, however for an example of his art. On "A Ballad For Rita," for instance, he goes it alone for nearly the entire 17 minutes of the tune and he's as impressively inventive as he's volcanic. In the background, Drake, who since then has put in time with the likes of Pharaoh Sanders and Peter Brötzmann, keeps the rhythm boiling with different percussion nuances. And that's only the first track.

Listen to "The Bull" for another idea of how this quartet worked. Brimfield, who has spent years as a faithful Tonto to Anderson's Lone Ranger, turns in a dignified, yet constantly swinging, long-lined solo. Even lesser known than Anderson, the trumpeter is the connection between 1950s hard bop and the ACCM. Yet he's never recorded a session under his own name, at a time when any neo-con with a suit and a music degree can get a multi-year contract.

Looking for a change of pace? Then follow Drake's tabla pulse on "Bombay" previewing the sort of hand drumming he would use to greater effect in the years to come with bands like the cooperative DKV trio.

Even Hayrod, who spent only two years in the Anderson orbit and who seems to have disappeared since then, is a solid, unshowy timekeeper. He keeps the rhythm going throughout the date, letting the others excel in the front line.

THE MILWAUKEE TAPES is a valuable addition to the Anderson canon, recorded during what had been his undocumented period of 15 years. It also proves that there was a heck of a lot more going on in jazz at the cusp of the 1980s than the flaccid fusion and groping bop-by-the-numbers retreads that were released at that time.

And it makes you anxious to see what other unexpected gems will be unearthed on the promised second volume of this session.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. A Ballad For Rita 2. The Bull 3. Black Woman 4. Bombay (Children of Cambodia) ; 5. Planet E

Personnel; Billy Brimfield (trumpet); Fred Anderson (tenor saxophone); Larry Hayrod (bass); Hamid Drake (drums, tablas)

July 22, 2000

PETER BRÖTZMANN

Stone/Water
Okka Disk OD 12032

Peter Brötzmann is no stranger to bombast.

The German multi-reedist first goose-stepped his way into world jazz consciousness in 1968 with MACHINE GUN on FMP. From its first extended blats of pure noise emanating from a (very) mixed platoon of Dutch, Flemish, British and German improvisers, it gave lusty notice that Continental jazzers had to be judged on their own merits rather than in comparison to North American musicians.

Over the years, except for the odd one/off project, economic necessity has forced Brötzmann to work with smaller bands -- usually trios and quartets and some commentators have even posited that the wildman has mellowed.

As this fine session, attests, nothing could be further from the truth. It's just with a veteran's maturity, the saxophonist now knows exactly when to let 'er rip and when to keep things on a quieter level. Also, unlike some of his more dogmatic colleagues, he's never missed an opportunity to collaborate with many other musicians, be they Americans or Moroccans.

That's the genesis of this disc -- recorded at last year's Festival International de Musique International in Victoriaville, Que. A couple of years before this, Brötzmann, on tour in Chicago, organized a crew of like-minded improvisers from the simmering improv scene there -- first as an octet then a tentet. This band is a road show version of that aggregation which was captured on 1997's superb three-CD Okka disc set. Besides Brötzmann, the group now includes a Swede (Gustafson); a Japanese (Kondo); and a Manhattenite (Parker) as well six musicians from the Windy City.

While the gang of 10 seems to throw everything it can into the one, almost 39 minute, composition, its extreme length leads to an uneven outcome. Sure there's the unparalleled power of MACHINE GUN-style unison horn work -- especially right the beginning and end -- but there are time marking valleys as well as peaks. With nearly everyone allowed solo space, focus is sometimes lost. Kondo's muted trumpet and electronic washes, for instance, seem to go on a bit too long. And the ominous sub theme propelled by the cello may have been better on its own. Still, Bishop's half-gutbucket/half modern trombone proves convincing, as do the eight string acrobatics of Parker and Kessler.

However with the soloists not identified --and all reedists playing tenor saxophone and Brötzmann and Vandermark both playing clarinets -- it's hard to ascribe individual woodwind honors. One would suppose that the most ferocious blowing comes from the German, but whoever plays each part certainly knows his way around a mouthpiece.

Another complaint is that nowhere are the first names of the performers (listed blow) supplied. That may be OK for a Miles Davis session, but these less famous musicians deserve as much acknowledgement as possible. The last name of the cellist is also misspelled.

While STONE/WATER builds up to a multifaceted climax, all the parts don't add up to a masterwork like the three-CD THE CHICAGO OCTET/TENTET. Perhaps it was the live situation or the new personalities in the band.

Still if you liked the earlier session, you'll probably favor this one as well. And if you don't own the limited-edition three-CD set this can be an admirable substitute, especially if you follow the work of any of the horn men.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Stone/Water

Personnel: Toshinoro Kondo (tbrumpet, electronics); Jeb Bishop (trombone); Peter Brötzmann (tenor saxophone, clarinet); Mats Gustafsson (tenor saxophone, flutophone); Ken Vandermark (tenor saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet); Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello, violin); Kent Kessler, William Parker (basses); Hamid Drake, Michael Zerang (drums)

June 17, 2000