The Jazz Monster

Vijay Iyer? Has Another New Record Coming Out? What Is This, Like, His Third in Two Years?

2009-04-30T22:26:00.002-04:00

It should come as no surprise to anyone who has spent any time reading this blog over the past year or so that I would come out of hibernation to drool over new tracks on Vijay Iyer's myspace. Have you heard them? If you have not, you can find them right here, and they are KILLIN'. Of the five new tracks, three are going to be featured on his new album, "Historicity" and are played by his trio. The other two, "Thrash Anthem" and "Down to the Wire," are played by his sextet and were written as cues for ESPN (how cool is that?).

"Historicity" and "Helix" are classic Iyer, the former featuring violent, stuttering rhythms and equally percussive piano work, and the latter opening quietly, with seemingly improvised chord changes and eventually rising to crescendo, recalling "Threnody" from last year's Tragicomic. The rhythms featured about halfway through the track are completely new, however, and involve the shifts and stutters not uncommon in Iyer's compositions. The third of the trio tracks, however, is possibly the most interesting of all: a cover of M.I.A.'s break-out hit, "Galang." Iyer brings it, and "Galang" is possibly the craziest of the three. Drummer Marcus Gilmore bangs away while bassist Steven Crump attacks every hit; Iyer's own pianistic mimicking of M.I.A.'s voice is uncanny, and the whole thing reminds me of Jason Moran's Bandwagon on crack.

Check them out, if the rest of "Historicity" is as good as these three, we could have one of the best of the year on the way.

Julian Lage Sounds Off

2009-04-27T18:51:00.001-04:00

Berklee student Julian Lage’s debut solo album, The Sounding Point, is all over the place in the best way possible. Showcasing his interest in classical music, jazz, and American folk music, it is a credit to the young Mr. Lage that The Sounding Point never sounds schizophrenic. In spite of the album’s huge scope, Lage never sounds like he’s stretching himself too far.

Lage, who became well known in 1997 as the subject of the academy award winning documentary “Jules at Eight,” has until now been known mostly as a child prodigy and as a collaborator of fellow child prodigy Taylor Eigsti. The Sounding Point, however, shows that he is more than just that; his integration of numerous idioms on tracks like “All Purpose Beginning” and “Quiet Through and Through” prove that he is a major talent in the process of finding himself as a musician.

While Lage’s band on the album largely consists of himself, cellist Aristides Rivas, saxophonist Ben Roseth, bassist Jorge Roeder, and drummer Tupac Mantilla, the best tracks on the album are arguably the three collaborations with banjoist Bela Fleck and mandolinist Chris Thile. These tracks showcase a relatively seamless dialogue between jazz and bluegrass, and are in many ways the culmination of a fusing of these two genres that began in the 90s with Bill Frisell’s Nashville.

“The Informant,” one such track, opens with a nimble banjo line from Fleck that is immediately mimicked and spun around by Lage. The three of them eventually enter into a fast, contemporary bluegrass jam that features some snaky guitar lines from Lage and later, a series of trade-offs between Fleck and Thile. These three tracks are alone worth the price of the album, as they showcase three great musicians from largely different backgrounds working together to create interesting improvised music.

The album’s other highlight is technically not on the album at all; a run through “All Blues” that features Lage’s compatriot Taylor Eigsti. While the tune is by now overplayed- and there is a clearly definitive and beloved version (that would be Miles Davis’)- Eigsti and Lage take the tune and turn it inside out without even altering anything that makes the tune great. It’s still in 6/8 (or 3/4, depending on your Real Book edition), the chords aren’t reharmonized (at least not initially), and it still swings like nobody’s business; the joy in it, however, is in hearing the two musicians really cut loose on a straight-ahead, old school jazz tune after hearing almost an hour of Lage’s classical and bluegrass fusions. The placement is jarring, and really does seem to prove that Julian Lage is capable of anything.

The Bad Plus at the BPC With Wendy Lewis

2009-04-09T15:24:00.002-04:00

While the lack of an encore may well have upset a number of fans, there is no doubt that The Bad Plus played at least two thirds of a great show on Friday, April 3rd. During the second half of their set there was something of a lull; they were joined by singer Wendy Lewis (the regular trio is comprised of bassist Reid Anderson, drummer David King, and pianist Ethan Iverson), and after rousing takes on Nirvana’s “Lithium” and Wilco’s “Radio Cure” focused on too many down-tempo songs.

The first half of their set was perfect. Everything, even down to song choice, was exactly what a fan of the trio could have hoped for. In addition to the trio songs on their new album (which include their idiosyncratic versions of twentieth century classical pieces by Ligety, Stravinsky, and Babet), the band played a few highlights from their older records.

These highlights included a run through Anderson’s “Physical Cities” that could only be described by an audience member as “insane.” The song, which begins with an odd-meter funk groove, moves into a series of hits that eventually become the center of the song before transitioning into another funk groove. After Anderson and Iverson solo, the band plays the same hits, extending them for what seems like an eternity. The insane part is that this new series of hits is different, has no defined pattern, and is played in perfect unison by the group, who have memorized it and play as if they are all one musician.

After “Physical Cities,” the undeniable peak of the show, the band invited vocalist Wendy Lewis to the stage for the second half of their set. The first half of the show was good enough that it was clearly going to be hard to continue the forward momentum going into Lewis’s songs.

Lewis, whose contributions on their most recent album For All I Care was essential to changing up the trio’s sound, was not quite as inventive live as the rest of the group, which is understandable due to the fact that the three of them have been playing together without her for more than ten years. Another problem with Lewis’ portion of the show was that for the most part, the live versions of songs were nearly identical to those on the record, and those tunes that didn’t appear on For All I Care were generally dirges (“Blue Velvet” and “New Year’s Day” come to mind). The band’s closer, “Comfortably Numb,” however, made up for these problems with the sort of disaffected energy usually reserved for a rock band.

While the second half of the Bad Plus’s show at the BPC was plagued by some issues stemming from the inclusion of Wendy Lewis, the first half was almost undeniably what any fan would have wanted. The only other major problem with the show, the lack of an encore, was notable more for the fact that audience members perhaps would have wanted to see the trio performing alone together for one last tune.

Next time I'll have a review of Julian Lage's "Sounding Point."

Christian Scott Rocks Out at Sculler's

2009-03-30T23:11:00.003-04:00

Hey there all, I would like to apologize for the consistent inconsistency of this blog, and would like to say that it seems as though for the next few months it will probably be just as slap-dash, sporadic, and generally thrown together about two months after the last minute. I would say check back often for reviews and commentary, but the likelihood is that there will be nothing here. That said, I do have a review for you this time!

Also, a note for the haters: keep on hating, and keep on commenting about how much you hate me (I'm talking to you, vin); I suppose that the notoriety of being the worst blogger on the jazz blogosphere (Is there even a jazz blogosphere?) is probably enough to catapult me to a promising career as a jazz critic. So here's my review of Christian Scott's show at Sculler's, which is essentially a reprint of a review of that same show I wrote originally for The Berklee Groove.

With one notable exception, Christian Scott’s quintet did not swing on a single tune on Thursday May 26th at Sculler’s jazz club. Nor did they burn- at least in a traditional sense. With the exception of a cover of Herbie Hancock’s “Eye of the Hurricane,” taken at a breakneck pace, Scott’s group rocked out. Scott, possibly the best-dressed man in jazz, walked out sporting a near-trademarked pair of sunglasses and a collared shirt, waited for his band to set up their instruments, and immediately tore into the only new tune of the night, “Angola Louisiana and the 13th Amendment.” The tune, an elegy for a friend in prison, was loud and full of righteous anger.

Like his contemporaries Vijay Iyer and Andy Milne, Scott is clearly neither afraid to make topical music in the jazz idiom nor to mix jazz with R&B, Hip Hop, and loud rock music. Even Scott’s ballad, “Isadora,” was beautifully modern; drummer Jamire Williams’ incredibly intricate hip-hop brush-work somehow matched a traditionally gorgeous ballad solo from pianist Milton Fletcher.

According to Scott, this quintet is going to be around for a long time. “We’re bringing the band back,” he said. “A lot of times, you hear only about the artist, but the band is just as important. I wouldn’t be able to do what I do if it weren’t for these guys.” Rounding out his group were the aforementioned Williams and Fletcher, in addition to bassist Chris Funk and guitarist Matt Stevens. Every member played an important part in the texture of Scott’s group; Stevens and Fletcher trading off on chordal duties, or playing single note grooves that recall a jazzier Radiohead circa “Kid A.”

The show was markedly different from the one documented in Scott’s most recent album, “Live at Newport,” due both to the lack of tenor saxophonist Walter Smith III and pianist Aaron Parks and to a crackling energy that could be felt in the audience at Sculler’s that was not to be found at Newport. Something about the intimate setting and the rapport between the five particular musicians on stage made Scott’s show one of the best I’ve been to in a long time.

By the time Scott made it to the anthemic “Litany Against Fear” and a raucous run through “Rewind That,” his two closest things to hits, it was clear that the audience was just as into the music as the musicians. There was shouting in the middle of solos and loud applause, and yet everything from the stage was audible due to Scott’s band’s propensity for making loud music. “Litany Against Fear” was absolutely transcendent, featuring a constantly shifting drum solo from Williams and some knotty lines from Scott, but the best solo of the night came in the form of a block chord piano solo on “Rewind That.” Fletcher barely played any notes, but instead chose to tear the house down using odd rhythmic ideas from hip-hop.

Scott is without a question one of the great young jazz musicians right now, and this new quintet of his will be recording a new album in May. Don’t wait to hear the record, go see him live as soon as he comes back to Boston.

A review of Julian Lage's new album is forthcoming. Probably in a couple months. Sorry in advance.

The New Fusion: New Records by The Bad Plus and The Bird and The Bee

2009-02-09T16:18:00.009-05:00

When people hear the word "fusion," they generally think either of Miles Davis' "Bitches Brew," the slew of 70s bands that sprouted from those sessions (The Mahavishnu Orchestra, Return to Forever, etc) or the smooth jazz lunacy generally played on "fusion" or "soul-jazz" radio stations (Kenny G, Dave Koz, etc). Of course, the idea of "fusion" in jazz at all is pretty ridiculous, especially now that jazzers like Robert Glasper have day jobs playing with rappers and Charlie Haden is releasing an (amazing) album of old-school country songs. So when I refer to the new fusion, I'm talking about music that makes a sincere attempt at bridging the jazz-pop divide, and no two bands encapsulate that idea from the two different sides than jazz pranksters The Bad Plus and indie-pop duo The Bird the Bee. Just my luck, they happen to have released new albums within a few weeks of each other.

Inara George and Greg Kurstin first made waves as The Bird and The Bee in the jazz community when, upon the release of their self-titled review, some critic felt the need to mention that Kurstin had studied music with Jaki Byard. "Holy shit," said the hipster critic (I'm paraphrasing here), "Jaki Byard played with that famous bass player dude what's-his-face," and thus, the myth that The Bird and the Bee play jazz was born. The Bird and the Bee are not a lounge duo, and there is little to no improvisation in their music, with the exception of a guitar or piano solo here or there. "Also," said the critic, "Inara George has a smoky voice like that chick Norah Jones, and she's like, kinda jazzy, right?" The critic was correct, and I suppose there is something subtle about Inara George's voice that makes the band sound jazzy. Of course, there is also the fact that THEIR HARMONIC BACKDROP AND VOICINGS ARE TAKEN DIRECTLY FROM MODERN JAZZ, but most critics, who majored in English in college, are unqualified to make a statement like that.

I realize that I'm spending more time ranting about The Bird and the Bee's ridiculously inept critical reception than about their music. "Rayguns Are Not Just the Future," their new album, is pretty good. It isn't quite as good as their eponymous debut, and on "Rayguns" they sound stretched a little thin; the debut was full of simple arrangements that highlighted the catchy melodies and out-there harmony of their tunes, while "Rayguns" is overproduced at the expense of the group's songs. Also, there is something ironically old-fashioned about the writing in songs like "You're A Cad" that simply couldn't have existed on an album with songs like "Fucking Boyfriend." In some ways it sounds like The Bird and the Bee have traded in modern jazz for a hipsterized version of Tin Pan Alley on "Rayguns." But still, I would recommend it to those who liked their debut.

The Bad Plus, one of the two great young hipster jazz ensembles of our time (Moppa Elliot's "bebop terrorist band" Mostly Other People Do the Killing would qualify as the other), are infamous in the pop world for their covers of songs ranging from Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" to "The Theme From 'Chariots of Fire'," but in general the best tracks on their albums have been their equally adventurous originals. Their new album, "For All I Care," is something of a departure for The Bad Plus: it is their first made up entirely of covers, their first with a singer, and perhaps their most accessible to a wide audience due to these two facts. It is also possibly their best, and their most experimental.

The singer, Minneapolis rocker Wendy Lewis, fits the band like a glove; she feels no need to add the inflections of a jazz singer, and her addition only underscores the idea that The Bad Plus are not a jazz piano trio, but in fact an experimental rock trio whose instrumentation happens to be piano (Ethan Iverson), bass (Reid Anderson) and drum kit (David King).

Hopefully this new development will stop people from comparing The Bad Plus to Brad Mehldau's piano trio; while Mehldau's group treats rock songs like standards, The Bad Plus treat rock songs like rock songs. Just listen to Nirvana's "Lithium," which, in spite of a much more complicated rhythm and a disorienting key change in the verse, maintains both the energy and the sheer volume of the original, or to their take on Wilco's "Radio Cure;" their version, which begins as a duet between Lewis' voice and Anderson's bass, is perhaps even more cold, disaffected, and chillingly beautiful than the original. Highly highly highly recommended for non-purists, Nirvana fans, Bad Plus fans, everybody. I would go so far as to say that this is an early pick for one of the year's best.

Yeah, yeah, this was a really long post. Enjoy it while it lasts. Also, feel free to comment on the revenge of the double-review, I am aware of the fact that I haven't done one in a while.

Kind of World Music

2009-02-03T15:27:00.003-05:00

The title of this post pretty accurately describes the music found on Gilfema's new almost-self-titled "Gilfema + 2." Gilfema, a trio made up of young internationals Lionel Loueke (guitar), Ferenc Nemeth (drums) and Massimo Biolcati (bass), was first heard on their fully-self-titled debut ("Gilfema," one of the best releases of the decade), and has since been heard on Lionel Loueke's "Virgin Forest" and "Karibu" as "The Lionel Loueke Trio." Now, on their new collaborative release, they have added clarinetist Anat Cohen and bass clarinetist (and occasional ocarina player) John Ellis to the mix.

While Cohen and Ellis each have occasional solo spots and play a large part in creating the texture for the band, the full responsibility for the group's vision still falls squarely on the shoulders of Nemeth, Biolcati, and Loueke. The three split writing duties (4 tunes are Loueke's, 3 each are Nemeth's or Biolcati's), although you wouldn't know that without looking at the liner notes; the tunes all make sense together, and there is clearly a Gilfema sound that is audible throughout this and their earlier album. Musical influence comes from all over the place (the three trio members are from Benin, Italy, or Hungary, and with the addition of Ellis and Cohen they can add America and Israel to their list of countries-of-origin), but the mix is Gilfema's alone.

The key difference between "Gilfema + 2" and "Gilfema" is, as would be expected, the addition of two horn sounds into the mix. Ellis' bass clarinet adds bottom without intruding on Biolcati's bass, and Cohen's clarinet makes for an interesting counterpoint to Loueke's guitar and voice. On the track "Your World," for example, Cohen and Loueke solo at the same time, bumping ideas off of eachother and eventually hitting a crescendo with a different texture than anything on "Gilfema." This addition, however, is also "Gilfema + 2'"s major weakness; Cohen and Ellis are not as telepathic as the original trio, who have been playing together as a unit since they attended college. This weakness is hardly major though, and the addition bolsters the original trio's texture in new and interesting ways; while "Gilfema" was a fairly loose mixture of jazz and world music, "Gilfema + 2" is a tightly woven tapestry in the same vein.

Avishai Cohen's Big Rain

2009-01-30T15:44:00.002-05:00

Avishai Cohen's "After the Big Rain," which prominently featured keyboardist Jason Lindner and guitarist Lionel Loueke, was one of the best albums of 2007; the only problem brought up by the glossies, if it could be called a problem, was that the album sounded more like a Lionel Loueke record than an Avishai Cohen record. Cohen, who has probably had to spend his entire life contending with people asking "Avishai Cohen, you mean like the bass player," was probably miffed at these reviews. "Flood," the second part in his "Big Rain" trilogy, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the vision behind these albums is his and his alone.

Lindner and Loueke are both gone, and while their playing was part of what made "After the Big Rain" such a rich album they are not missed here. Cohen opted for a bass-less trio, and the only hold-over from "After the Big Rain" is drummer Daniel Freedman (the other member of the trio is pianist Yonatan Avishai, who together with Freedman and Cohen make up 3/4s of Third World Love). There are obvious differences between the two albums: "After the Big Rain" featured cutting edge electronics while "Flood" is all acoustic; "After the Big Rain" featured vocals on many tracks courtesy of Loueke. The differences are all surface though- Cohen's vision for the two albums is in many ways identical. Motifs from "Big Rain" resurface on "Flood," and his playing on the new album is related if not identical to his playing on "After the Big Rain."

Musically, "Flood" is exactly like it's title. The sounds- initial drips of Avishai's piano which lead to waves of Freedman's percussion and finally violent cascades of Cohen's trumpet- evoke quite literally the sounds of a flood. In a sense, "Flood" is a more unified album musically than "After the Big Rain," as the band has a tendency to act more like a single musician than on the previous album; on "Big Rain" there was usually a clear soloist, and while the band was interactive, it was easy to tell whose turn it was. On "Flood," however, the players weave in and out organically, for the service of the music and the concept. Highly recommended.

I'm curious to hear Cohen's next record, which according to his website will be the first part of this trilogy ("Before the Flood?" "Before the Big Rain?" "Clouds?"), and will be a big band date. After "After the Big Rain," an odd instrumentation combo record, and "Flood," a bass-less trio record, it will be interesting to hear how Cohen's concept fits into a large ensemble.

More Silliness Courtesy of JazzTimes

2009-01-27T15:31:00.003-05:00

I'm not going to pretend that I'm shocked that my pick for the best jazz album of the year (Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic") didn't even make the JazzTimes top 50, or that I'm shocked that my top 10 only matched up once with their's (Bill Frisell's "History, Mystery," the second best album of the year in my list, was number 5 in JazzTimes'). I will, however, make a few short complaints:

JOE LOVANO'S "SYMPHONICA" AT NUMBER TWO?!???!?!?!

BOZ SCAGGS?!

ROBERTA GAMBARINI & HANK JONES?!

Now that that's over with, I can go back to writing like an educated journalist. While I'm sure that the Boz Scaggs and Gambarini/Jones releases filled some sort of quotient for "vocal jazz" albums on the list (Patricia Barber's "The Cole Porter Mix" and Cassandra Wilson's "Loverly" which are both actually good, also made the list at numbers 29 and 8, respectively). Of course, there has been good vocal jazz this year, and Boz Scaggs' place on the list over "Moss" is a travesty. In fact, I can barely think of a worse travesty than the lack of "Moss" on this list except in hypotheticals; like, for example, if Dianne Reeves' "When You Know" was named the album of the year.

Or, say, if Joe Lovano's "Symphonica" were named the best album of the year. Luckily, JazzTimes doesn't think that "Symphonica" is the single best album of the year (they think that The Charles Lloyd Quartet's "Rabo De Nube" is better, but nothing in my Top 10). I've already given my thoughts on Lovano's Symphonica here, writing any more about it would be like flogging a dead horse.

As for the rest of it, I was pretty happy to see that "Miles From India" (#6) got some love from JazzTimes, which is usually more accepting of new concepts than their older evil brother Downbeat, and that Carla Bley's "Appearing Nightly" (#7), which certainly would have made my list if I'd heard it just a week sooner, was featured in the top 10.

Jazz's Renaissance Through Rap?

2009-01-23T16:10:00.003-05:00

It's not a jazz album. But so what? I've reviewed Girl Talk here before, and I didn't even bother with an excuse beyond the fact that it was one of the best albums of the year- why can't I write a review of one of the best rap albums of the year? Plus- and don't take this the wrong way, "The Renaissance" is a rap record, not one of the Jazz-with-a-capital-"J" variety- there are more brilliant young jazz musicians in one place here than you will find on many new jazz albums. The luminaries include keyboardist Robert Glasper, bassist Derrick Hodge, guitarist Mike Moreno, and another guitarist- perhaps you've heard of him- Kurt "Most Influential Jazz Guitar Player of His Generation" Rosenwinkel. If that name alone isn't enough to excuse me for writing about rap in this setting, what is?

There is no improvisation on "The Renaissance," and the musicians who are featured (mostly as parts of various live bands in the studio, believe it or not) are called upon to do nothing but groove. This is a good thing. Anyone who's listened to Glasper's "In My Element" or Rosenwinkel's latest, "The Remedy," know that these guys can groove better than anyone out there. The one track built off of samples, "Move," is the album's most ambitious track and one of its highlights. The beat, created by the late, great J Dilla, fits right in with the rest of the album, and if it weren't for Dilla's trademarked audible vinyl hiss, you wouldn't be able to tell that it was anything other than another live funky groove. Other highlights include "Life Is Better," which is perhaps the best piece of music that Norah Jones has ever attached her name to (she sings the hook), and the D'Angelo guest spot, "Believe."

Q-Tip's rapping is just as spot on as when he most recently released an album all the way back in 1999. "The Renaissance" is even better than "Amplified," though, which suffered from too much production. For the most part, as opposed to dissing other rappers (with the exception of the a capella beginning of "Dance on Glass"), Q-Tip is content to rap about history: "Life Is Better" consists almost entirely of shout-outs to all of his favorite MCs from Kool Herc to Lil Wayne.

As in 2007, the best rap record of 2008 was a battle-cry from an MC long off the scene; granted, Q-Tip is not quite the lyricist that Pharoahe Monch is, and "The Renaissance" doesn't have the same number of immediately quotable genius one-liners that can be found in "Desire" ("Think! Even you was ashes you couldn't urn," "I lay in the cut like neosporin," and about fifty others), but what "The Renaissance" lacks in immediate lyrical nastiness it more than makes up for in groove. The best moment on the record occurs near the beginning of "Believe," when the full band drops out with the exception of the bass and drums to allow Q-Tip to begin his rap like a percussive accompaniment: "Of the things we believe/there's a whole lot of work/ gotta roll up our sleeves." Who knows when Q-Tip will come out with another new record, but now that he's finally rolled his sleeves up he's come up with his best solo album, and one of the best albums of the year.

One Hell of an Overdue William Parker Review

2009-01-21T15:03:00.002-05:00

As far as I can tell, I've been promising a review of William Parker's "Petit Oiseau" for at least three months. You're just going to have to take my word for it, though, that I have been incredibly, horrifically, hell, excruciatingly busy recently. As some of you know, I am a staff writer for the Berklee College of Music newspaper, The Groove, in addition to my responsibilities as a broke college student whose sources of income do not include amongst themselves "snarky jazz-blogging asshole." I do, however, keep up with the music (I can even get it for free now that I have two different papers I can use for credentials!), and whenever possible I plan on continuing to write reviews of new jazz albums and general nastiness about the jazz press (get excited for next time when I go through the Jazz Times Top 50, which includes Joe Lovano's syrupy "Symphonica" as the second best album of the year).

No one can accuse William Parker of being stingy or of allowing himself to sink into obscurity while other, younger free jazz musicians get all of the acclaim; he has appeared in a feature in Downbeat (remember the last time Downbeat had a feature article about a contemporary free jazz musician who wasn't young and sexy like Nicole Mitchell? Oh yeah, never) and has released two records a year since 2005. That said, however, Parker's recent outpouring of creativity has come at the expense of regular dates with his quartet, one of the best units in jazz. The last date, 2005's "Sound Unity," was the third part in a trilogy of sorts that included 2000's game-changing "O'Neal's Porch" and 2002's "Raining On the Moon." All three albums featured the trio playing lyrical free jazz in the OCDC ("Ornette Coleman Don Cherry") vein- the music was as melodic as any straight-ahead jazz but with enough craziness courtesy of saxophonist Rob Brown and Trumpeter Lewis Barnes that it retained its edge.

Those three records were all about the frontline, Barnes and Brown, coming up with crazy melodies. "Petit Oiseau" is all about the rhythm section, which in addition to Parker includes drummer and long-time co-conspirator Hamid Drake. The comparison's to Coleman's classic late-50s quartet are still relevant, of course, but by now Parker and Drake have been playing together for so long that they sound telepathic in comparison to Coleman's alternatingly madcap and pensive rhythm section of Charlie Haden and Billy Higgins. Besides, Parker is more interested in making his music funky: imagine an entire record of variations of the rhythm section part to Coleman's "Ramblin'" and you begin to get the idea. The grooves on tracks like "Grove Suite" and "The Golden Ball" recall funky world music, but with a looseness only heard in free jazz.

Of course, even though the focus has shifted a bit, Parker's horn players sound as good here as they do on his other records. Rob Brown's saxophone playing is rivaled in ferocity only by Rudresh Mahanthappa's, and on this album it is like an explosion in the center of Parker and Drake's grooves. Barnes, on the other hand, floats over the proceedings like the hummingbird on the album's cover. Together they make up the yin and yang in Parker's music; sometimes sweet, sometimes sour. On an uptempo number like "Four for Tommy," the difference in style becomes readily apparent: Barnes is interested in making music out of sheer sound, while Brown creates odd melodic and harmonic linear statements out of thin air.

Carla Bley, Appearing Nightly On Your CD Player

2008-12-21T18:38:00.003-05:00

I hate to be the one to say it, but it seems like there is no question anymore that professional Big Band Jazz is dying. I'm not saying that Big Bands are dying; they will always live on in high schools and in the ghost bands that tour the country with monstrous young players and subdued, well-written charts. Of course there are Maria Schneider and Dave Holland, the newest to enter the Big Band fray and the ones who win all of the awards, but Holland never tours with his big band (and hasn't played a big band date in years) and Schneider can hardly afford to keep hers together. Well, thank God for Carla Bley, one of the most idiosyncratic writers in generation and one of the best big band arrangers (and writers) ever, and for her new album, "Appearing Nightly."

"Appearing Nightly" is credited to Carla Bley and her Remarkable Big Band, and features such killer on-the-cusp-of-fame musicians as trumpeter Lew Soloff, tenor saxophonist Andy Sheppard, drummer Billy Drummond, trombonist Gary Valente, and bassist Steve Swallow, to name only five. The playing is stellar all around, and everybody in the long-standing band can (and do) play the hell out of Bley's arrangements, which, presumably, they have been playing nightly for years. The first two tracks, "Greasy Gravy" and "Awful Coffee," in particular feature some brilliant soloing from the aforementioned musicians. "Awful Coffee," an uptempo burner, features a mind-altering and quotation-filled solo from Sheppard, and "Greasy Gravy," a slower, medium swing number, showcases Valente's odd ideas on trombone.

An album like "Appearing Nightly" is not about the solos though, and Bley's tunes and arrangements are brilliant and idiosyncratic. Bley, like a master chef putting her stamp on a dish that's been cooked by many brilliant cooks before her, takes a format and tunes that sound like they could have been written in 1950, and then turns them inside out with odd voicings and backign-figures. Granted, Bley is more of a traditionalist than, say, Bill Holman, who can take a Monk tune and make it sound like an acid trip in a house of mirrors (just listen to his "Brilliant Corners: The Music of Thelonious Monk" for a taste), but her charts are too weird and creative to simply be labled a rehash. She throws dissonant minor ninthson top of the melody on "Awful Coffee," and randomly inserts a rhythm changes bridge out of nowhere in the middle of the tune just for the hell of it. Quotes abound, and my personal favorite is a random interjection of the melody of "You Stepped Out of a Dream" in the middle of "Appearing Nightly At the Black Orchid," the 25-minute suite that makes up the heart of the record.

A killin' big band record, there should be more like it. Recommended.

Jazz 08 Part Three: Top Ten Albums of the Year

2008-12-15T15:07:00.003-05:00

I understand that it is now in verve for critics to replace their annual top ten lists with alphabetical, formless, un-fun lists of albums that are "the best, in this critic's humble opinion." Anyone who reads this blog knows by now that this sort of meaningless, politically-correct list isn't quite my style. Hence, I'm kicking it old-school: numbered from ten to one, here are the best jazz albums of the year. Feel free to disagree with the picks or lament the lack of your favorite record in the comments section:

10. "Invisible Cinema" by Aaron Parks: Parks, who is shaping up to be the pianist of choice for the current crop of youngsters on the jazz scene, made his Blue Note debut as a leader with "Invisible Cinema," a record with a ridiculously opaque plot that doesn't seem to actually matter. The music is like prog rock with jazz musicians; Mike Moreno's guitar pyrotechnics recall Pat Metheny and Johnny Greenwood in equal parts.

9. "The Remedy" by Kurt Rosenwinkel: With "The Remedy," Kurt Rosenwinkel has proved yet again that he deserves to be this generation's most influential voice on guitar. As opposed to playing licks, Rosenwinkel plays fluid, seemingly random lines. There is a tragic element of this record though; saxophonist Mark Turner recently lost two fingers in an accident, and the jazz scene's loss is monumental.

8. "Party Intellectuals" by Marc Ribot: PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY... Marc Ribot's free-rock trio is so good that you forget that you're listening to a jazz musician who plays with John Zorn. Like last year's "Draw Breath," by The Nels Cline Singers, songs alternate between noisy, violent free improvisations and the loudest, booty shaking party music ever.

7. "Live" by The Brad Mehldau Trio: For my money, Brad Mehldau is the best piano player alive and working in the jazz idiom. While older musicians like Herbie Hancock and Keith Jarrett recieve all of the accolades, Mehldau has proven himself repeatedly with his trio on records like live. The interplay between him, bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jeff Ballard recalls both Jarrett's standards trio and Bill Evans' great trio, but creates music all its own. Mehldau covers pop songs ("Wonderwall" and "Black Hole Sun" here) without a hint of irony, and plays them like standards. Every track is a highlight.

6. "Kinsmen" by Rudresh Mahanthappa: Mahanthappa's septet on this record consists of a jazz quartet augmented by an Indian classical music trio. While there have been numerous other attempts to fuse the two musics, "Kinsmen" sounds like nothing else ever released in the jazz idiom. Saxophonists Mahanthappa and Kadri Gopalnath duel brilliantly on the tracks "Ganesha" and "Convergence (Kinsmen)."

5. "Crossing the Field" by Jenny Scheinman: "Crossing the Field," which features a full orchestra without sounding even remotely corny, is violinist Jenny Scheinman's best album yet. Her scrappy rural lyricism shines next to Bill Frisell's guitar and Jason Moran's piano, and her original compositions are alternatingly haunting, quaint, and beautiful. It makes sense that her other release this year was a set of spunkily sung versions of folk songs; her violin playing has the same weary, gorgeous quality as her voice.

4. "Esperanza" by Esperanza Spalding: Guilty pleasure of the year. Hands down. I could listen to Esperanza Spalding go on and on about her boy trouble for hours straight, and have. While her first album, "Junjo," was a straight-ahead date that showcased her bass playing, "Esperanza" is more of a contemporary R&B record with acoustic instruments and a latin-jazz tinge. Just listen to "Precious" and try not to get indignant about Esperanza's awful boyfriend (Can you believe he wanted her to change for him?), or, if you're in a jazz mood, get a hear of the catchy and wordless "I Adore You," the album's best track.

3. "The Door" by Mathias Eick: There are videos on youtube of Mathias Eick exploding with incredibly fast high-note runs, but that could not be further from "The Door." The quietest album of the year, "The Door" features the sort of lyricism expected from someone much older than the young Eick. His debut showcases the influence of earlier ECM artists and a little bit of the sound of his main gig, Jaga Jazzist, but really sounds like nothing else. If you could translate the feel and look of an intricate ice-sculpture into a jazz album, you would wind up with something a lot like "The Door."

2. "History, Mystery" by Bill Frisell: "History, Mystery" is easily Bill Frisell's most cohesive album since "Nashville," if not since "Have A Little Faith." The band is something like a who's who of the rural jazz movement: Jenny Scheinman and Eyvind Kang take up the strings, Ron Miles plays trumpet, and the perennial rhythm section of Tony Scherr and Kenny Wollesen anchors the proceedings. The album's sound is evocative of Americana circa 1950 or 1960; a melting pot of blues, country, bebop, soul, tango, Copland-style classical music and pretty much anything else Frisell sets his sights on. The record is set up as two different suites that go together, the first framed by different versions of "Probability Cloud," and the second by versions of "Monroe."

1. "Tragicomic" by Vijay Iyer: While "History Mystery" presents a beautiful fantasy version of the world, "Tragicomic" presents the world precisely as it is: dark, claustrophobic, complicated, and more often than not downright scary. Of course, Iyer treats it as a joke: the second track is named "Macaca Please" after former Virginia senator George Allen's now famous slur, while the music bludgeons you over the head like a blunt weapon. The album's only moment of respite, which comes in the form of a beautiful solo piano take on "I'm All Smiles" ends in an unsure vamp, and is almost immediately drowned out by the death march and subsequent riot of "Machine Days." Iyer's long-standing quartet with Rudresh Mahanthappa, Stephen Crump, and Marcus Gilmore has made a record that isn't for the faint of heart, but has more to say about the state of the world than most jazz. I said in April that this was going to be Iyer's year, and it was.

Jazz 08 Part Two: Superlatives!

2008-12-12T17:20:00.004-05:00

Chances are you read my end-of-the-year essay on the state of jazz (I pronounced it alive and well, albeit in a sub-cultural way) and said to yourselves, "damn, what insight," but I'm glad to see that someone disagrees with me on Sonny Rollins. I have heard from numerous (occasionally reliable, but mostly drunken) sources that Sonny is as great as ever live. I heard his new record (review forthcoming), and I suppose it's good; there just isn't anything new or ground-breaking about it, especially in a year in which Marian McPartland plays free jazz and Lee Konitz releases albums with teenage wunderkinds. I also saw him live a year or so ago at Lincoln Center and was dully unimpressed; granted, word on the street is that Sonny has on nights and off nights going back to the fifties. Either way, the point of this post is not to argue about Sonny Rollins' relevance to the jazz world right now, but to name some superlatives as a companion piece to my top ten, which will make it to this site in the near future.

Biggest Upset: Jon Irabagon's surprising (yet well deserved) win at this year's Monk Competition

Craziest Saxophone Solo: Greg Tardy's absurdly funky, out choruses on Bill Frisell's version of Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come."

Most Likely to Cut An Idol: Rudresh Mahanthappa; just check out the fours he trades with Kadri Gopalnath on the title track of "Kinsmen."

Best Straight Bluegrass Record from A Jazz Musician: Charlie Haden's "Rambling Boy"

Most Meteoric Rise: This one's a tie. Esperanza Spalding, who was pretty much unknown outside of dorky jazz circles last year, released a hit record and was named Rising Star Bassist of the Year in Downbeat. Mathias Eick, who has played on every Norwegian record with a trumpet in the past few years, gained international acclaim at the final IAJE Conferencer ever and released one of the best albums of the year with "The Door."

Hippest Singer You've Probably Never Heard of: Becca Stevens

Jazz' Most Beloved Indie Pop Duo: The Bird and the Bee

Jazz' Most Beloved Bluegrass Duo: Chris Thile and Edgar Meyer

Movement to Gain Most Steam: Rural Jazz

Least Likely to Release an Album for Another Ten Years: Brian Blade

Most Predictable Yearly Downbeat Poll: This is a tough one. Most years this category would wind up being a tie between Downbeat's annual Critic's Poll and Downbeat's annual Readers' Poll, but I suppose the edge this year goes to the readers, who were so predictable that I wish I had done a "guess the Readers' Poll" feature.

Jazz 08 Part One: This Year in Jazz!

2008-12-10T14:26:00.004-05:00

I'm just going to come out and say it- disagree if you want, but this is an honest belief of mine- 2008 has been the best year for new jazz in a long, long time. Everything seemed to come together in 2008; 90 year olds released some of the best albums of their careers (Marian McPartland and Buddy DeFranco) and other well-established artists made some major leaps (Bill Frisell, Pat Metheny, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Brad Mehldau). Most of the best records came from artists on the periphery of the jazz establishment, either too weird or too young: artists like Vijay Iyer, his cohort Rudresh Mahanthappa, Esperanza Spalding, Jenny Scheinman, Mathias Eick... the list goes on and on.

Even the disappointments weren't that bad (of course there are exceptions; the Wynton and Willie record was deathly boring, and Dianne Reeves' latest was unlistenable); when Ambrose Akinmusire's "Prelude to Cora" can be put on any kind of list of disappointments you know it was a good year. Perhaps the most surprising moments of the year came with the announcement of the year's MacArthur Fellowships (in a bad way) and Monk Institute Competition winners (in a surprising and sorta good way).

Of course the jazz media fixated on the same boring old people it always does (Sonny Rollins is, for probably the fortieth year in a row, the tenor saxophonist of the year according to Downbeat critics in spite of the fact that he doesn't perform regularly and didn't release an album this year) as opposed to focusing on the cool old people it tends to ignore (McPartland and DeFranco spring to mind- and I'm convinced that the only way Lee Konitz can get into the Downbeat Hall of Fame at this point is by dying).

The music this year speaks for itself, however. Rural Jazz has hit its peak with records like "History Mystery" and "Crossing the Field," and the Jewish Jazz scene only gets better with every barely-heard Tzadik release by somebody like Daniel Zamir or Paul Shapiro. And of course there's Esperanza, the girl of the moment, who deserves to be the next Norah Jones (perhaps the only Norah Jones). Young Ms. Spalding came out of nowhere (well, I'd heard of her, but I also go to Berklee), was suddenly featured on the cover of every jazz magazine and played on Letterman and Kimmel over the course of a week, not to mention her emergence as one of the go-to bassists of the Monk generation.

All in all, a stellar year. Next time on the Jazz Monster I'll have part two of my Jazz 08 series: The Superlatives, all leading up to the final edition of the Jazz 08, my top ten. So tune in a few days, because there's more to come.

Rudresh Mahanthappa Finds Kindred Spirits

2008-12-08T16:17:00.007-05:00

I know what you're thinking. I know, I know. It's been a while. My dinner's been getting cold, and you were worried sick; I'm only hoping that you haven't remarried while I was lost at sea. Yes, I have been listening to tons and tons of jazz music while I was gone, and there are tons and tons of records I could have chosen to review for my first one back from hiatus ("Petit Oiseau" by William Parker, "Flood" by Avishai Cohen and too many others to mention are coming in the near future), but I picked my personal favorite of the past month: Rudresh Mahanthappa's "Kinsmen."

"Kinsmen," the new album from Rudresh Mahanthappa, fuses Indian Classical (Carnatic) music and jazz, and shows that Mahanthappa’s idiosyncratic technique can translate to genres other than straight jazz. "Kinsmen" is Mahanthappa’s first album since 2006’s "Codebook," and marks a huge departure for his sound.

"Codebook" featured a number of fast, rhythmically and harmonically advanced jazz tunes as played by Mahanthappa’s quartet. Kinsmen, on the other hand, features a jazz quartet made up of himself (alto sax), Rez Abassi (guitar), Carlo Derosa (bass) and Royal Hartigan (drums), augmented by a Carnatic music trio of Kadri Gopalnath (saxophone), A. Kanyakumari (violin), and Poovalur Sriji (mridangam).

The music sounds on record like it does on paper: a clean fusion of jazz and Indian classical music. Parts of "Kinsmen" feature only the quartet or trio, but for the most part the instrumentation is mixed; a section of “Ganesha” features Rudresh’s saxophone along with Sriji’s Mridangam and Hartigan’s drums, and parts of the title track have Mahanthappa and Gopalnath trading licks across musical disciplines.

Mahanthappa’s sidemen are stellar, and Abassi’s odd background fits this date perfectly; in addition to playing straight ahead jazz, Abassi has been one of a small handful of young Indians to adapt the electric guitar for Carnatic music. On some tracks, such as “Snake!” and “Longing,” Abassi’s guitar sounds like an electrified sitar, while on others his tone is almost identical to the clean, modern sound of young jazzers like Lage Lund or Mike Moreno. Kudos also goes to Derosa and Hartigan for being able to keep up with Sriji’s mridangam, which is no easy task.

While other projects in the past that have attempted to fuse Indian classical music with jazz, Kinsmen is probably the first that represents a total fusion as opposed to the many one-sided attempts. Highly recommended.

In the next few days I'll have the first of my three-part "2008 In Jazz" series, so check back!

Christian Scott Talks About Life, Berklee, and His New Album "Live At Newport"

2008-11-03T12:44:00.002-05:00

Christian Scott, who has recently been receiving accolades for his albums "Rewind That" and "The Anthem," has a new album out on Concord, "Live At Newport." I interviewed him for the Berklee Groove; I figured you guys might find this interesting, and I also thought it was a good idea to put it up because the published interview is abridged. Seriously, this time, it actually is pretty long (we're talking almost 2000 words here), but if you bear with it Scott makes a lot of really interesting points about his music and has some good advice for young musicians:

Jazz Monster: You graduated very recently (2004). You’re releasing your third album in three years now-
Christian Scott: Actually, it’s my fourth album in four years. The first one I put out on my own label when I was still at Berklee.

JM: Four albums in four years. It seems like it’s been so fast since you graduated.
CS: You know, it’s funny. It feels like it’s been a long time to me, but mainly because it feels like I’ve been working non-stop for four or five years. So it feels like a long period of time has elapsed even though it’s been four years.

JM: How did that happen?
CS: You just keep working. What happens to a lot of musicians is they get out of school and they don’t know what to do so they freeze and start doing other things instead of pressing on. All the guys who I know who kept on pressing on, they’re still working. They never stopped working. You’ve just gotta work- you get calls from cats to play and then you start your own band. If that’s not working, you have to do something else; write music and get a licensing deal and a publishing deal. Do something, just don’t sit on your hands. Sitting on your hands is like death for a musician.

JM: What did you do after you graduated?
CS: Immediately after I graduated I signed my record deal with Concord. After I signed the record deal with Concord I started working on the music that [wound up being 2006’s] Rewind That. Ever since the album came out I’ve been constantly touring or working as a sideman or a producer and doing some stuff for film. Once I finished with Berklee, I immediately started moving. I didn’t want to stick around Boston, you know? I like Boston, but the scene in Boston is a lot of kids; either in school, or not in school but hanging around. It’s hard to stand out in that situation just because everybody looks the same. Leaving Berklee is like leaving home, once you turn eighteen, you’ve gotta get out of the house.

JM: What was it like coming back last year [to film part of The Newport Experience for the DVD section of Live at Newport]?
CS: It’s always cool coming back. All of my teachers there are good friends of mine, many of whom I’ve played professionally- in fact, in school I was playing with most of them professionally. I always love coming back. I especially love Rob Hayes in the office of Public Affairs, I always go up and mess with him when I’m at Berklee. He’s been a great friend to me. And of course Roger [Brown], your president, he’s a cool guy too. He’ll come out and play drums with us. Everybody- the entire Berklee family is great. When I come up I feel like I never left.

JM: Shifting gears a bit, listening to [your 2007 album] The Anthem and the new record, it’s clear that you’ve got a very characteristic compositional style. How do you compose? What do you think about when you’re writing tunes?
CS: Nothing. I just write them. I learned when I was younger that you learn things so that you can forget them. You learn lessons about harmony so that you don’t have to think about them. There are many techniques that I learned when I went to the New Orleans High School for the Creative Arts and when I went to Berklee, but I don’t think about any of that stuff when I’m writing because if I do, the process stops being about what I’m trying to convey or get out and becomes about what I’m intellectualizing.

JM: Do you think that it winds up sounding contrived that way?
CS: Not really, because there are guys that write that way who write music that doesn’t sound contrived. I think that has more to do with how the music is played. If you’re playing music with a drummer whose comfortable with playing music in 4/4 time, and you write something in 5/4, it will probably end up sounding contrived because the guy isn’t comfortable with playing in 5/4. I think more importantly, you want it to sound natural; you want it sound like what you’re feeling. Sometimes you’ll find out after you’ve written something that it goes through four different time signatures before it’s over. That’s just because you write it out, and you can edit it later so that it can effectively communicate what you want to play. At the time you’re writing it, you don’t want to think “that sounds like it’s in 10, and I don’t want to write something in 10.”

JM: So you don’t really think about what it’s going to be like to improvise over your tunes when you write them?
CS: No, you don’t- that’s why you spend all of your time refining your efforts to become a great improviser. If you have to think about what it is that you need to improvise, then you still need to study. I started going on the road with Donald Harrison’s band when I was thirteen years old, so that kind of training in the ability to play over anything happened at a very young age for me. Most of the guys who I play with are great improvisers; you can tell them five different ways to approach a chord and it isn’t going to matter because they react to the sound. All the great improvisers react to the sound, because when you’re playing a tune it’s going to change anyway based on what your doing. Are you trying to create tension? Are you trying to resolve it? You never know what you’re going to be hearing, so what you want to hone is your ability to decipher sound.

JM: So when you improvise you try to react more to sound than to what’s going on in the composition?
CS: To be honest with you, I’m not thinking about anything anymore, but what I’m saying is that most great improvisers have a better time reacting to sound than to sitting down and shedding a tune to get the changes. For instance, if you’re playing with a guy like Christian McBride and he’s playing a bass solo, he isn’t going to ask you to just put the changes in his face, he’s going to ask you to play through it. He’s going to play while you play, and work it out. In my music I don’t really think about it at all, I think about what I’m doing as a part of the composition as a whole. So rather than thinking about building my solo in the most dynamic way or in terms of getting the coolest or the hippest thing happening, I think more about the arc of the song. “What does the song need right now,” as opposed to “how can I fit in this flashy dope line.”

JM: It’s all about listening and trying to fit in.
CS: Yeah. For instance, if [guitarist] Matt [Stevens] just finished a long solo with lots of tension, then my solo isn’t going to be like that. I’m gonna try and calm it down a bit. Music moves in waves, it should rise and fall. You want your music to have dynamics and arcs, because if there’s no arc then you’re not going to be able to hold anymore of the tension.

JM: Do you have any tips for any young jazz musicians at Berklee?
CS: Finish! First, finish Berklee. Stop leaving. Everybody acts like it’s hard to stay at Berklee; it’s not hard to stay at Berklee. The school has done everything in its power to make it the best facility for what it is in the world, so why would you want to leave it so quickly. I’ve met kids who are in they’re first semester who tell me they’re going to stick around another semester and then leave. Well then what was the point of coming? You may as well have just taken your chances of going on the road and playing with somebody. But if you’re trying to educate yourself, and trying to be the musician that you can be, you should stick with something and finish it. That’s my advice; I can’t really offer any advice about the music business because that’s a crapshoot. You have absolutely no control over that. The best you can do is control what you’re doing artistically. So stay in school and stick by your convictions; that’s my advice.

JM: What was the most important thing you learned while you were at Berklee?
CS: I think the most important thing that I took into Berklee and that was also reaffirmed for me while I was there was to have respect for all musicians and all people. You can learn something from anyone, and anyone who thinks that they can’t learn something from anyone is missing something. I was into Berklee because I turning around and seeing a guy with a Mohawk. I like being around people; I like hearing their stories, their anxieties, I like hearing what makes them laugh, because all of that effects the way that you make music. The one thing I took out of Berklee was that respect for human beings, because there are so many different types of people there.

JM: Do you find that musically as well?
CS: Yeah, definitely. You can find someone from Israel, and they’ll show you some of their work songs or some of their religious songs. You could meet someone from Japan who can show you that folk music. There are so many different things that you can take from your experience while you’re there. If you’re a guitarist from Cleveland who goes to Berklee and you play rock music- if you’re just playing rock music and hanging out with rock musicians you’re really missing out on everything [Berklee] has to offer. If you’re a jazz trumpet player from New Orleans and you just play jazz all the time you’re missing out. You should take that time to go out and meet people and get out of your dorm room and play as much as possible.

Tearing the New Downbeat Apart Limb from Limb

2008-11-01T13:48:00.004-04:00

So we're four days away from what Joe Biden has called (to paraphrase) the "most important election of your meaningless little existence," and the most important question that Downbeat can think of for musicians isn't "who are you voting for," or "who do you think will make the gas prices that are currently preventing people from touring go down," or even, "what has this never-ending election cycle inspired from you musically-" all lame but relevant questions- but instead "What jazz artist would make the best president."

"What jazz artist would make the best president?" Geri Allen's choice- Dr. Billy Taylor- actually made some sense due to his importance to and experience in administrating jazz education, but with her exception, it seems like everyone is on crack. Sonny Rollins got two votes (Benny Golson and Pee Wee Ellis both suggested him because, as far as I can tell, he loves music and he's a pretty chill dude), and Wynton Marsalis got a requisite vote (hell, Bush managed to win two elections in a row).

As for the actual issue, why Tony Williams? I mean, he's great, don't get me wrong, and easily one of the best jazz drummers of all time... but... why? He's dead, he hasn't had a record out in years, there's no archival series or major tribute going on... I suppose the Downbeat U Drum School tie-in almost makes sense... But why not Anat Cohen? Doesn't she deserve a cover? There's a pretty long article about her in this Downbeat, so why not?

Also, random sidenote, there are two Five Star albums in the reviews section of Downbeat. What? When was the last time Downbeat had two five star albums in one issue? Nevermind that, with John McLaughlin's new album, this makes three five star albums all year, and for some reason they never go to the albums I want them to. My picks for the best albums of the year have all received either 3 or 4 stars. But what do I know.

Next time I'll have a very long (last time I remember someone getting all snippy about how my Terri Lyne Carrington interview wasn't as long as advertised- well, you're in luck, for those of you with the interest there are a good 1700 words to sift through) interview with Christian Scott posted.

News Update: Irabagon Wins Monk Competition

2008-10-28T14:20:00.003-04:00

So that's the news! Jon Irabagon, the alto saxophonist of Mostly Other People Do the Killing, just won the Thelonious Monk Institute's annual competition. I'm in a state of shock- happy shock, but shock none-the-less- at this news. Walter Smith III was also a semi-finalist, and I pretty much assumed that he would win partly because of his brilliance as a horn player and seeming importance to the current crop of young musicians (I have at least one friend who calls Smith the "voice of his generation on tenor saxophone"), but mostly because of his connection to the institute as a graduate. Seriously, Ambrose Akinmusire won the Monk competition last year on trumpet, and Gretchen Parlato won the vocal competition. Granted, this fact probably reflects more on the decisions of those who run the Monk Institute than those who judge the competitions, but up until now it was two for two.

Congrats Jon Irabagon!

For those of you who don't know his playing, here's an example.

Next time I'll tear the new Downbeat apart. The time after that I'll have a review of "Petit Oiseau," the gorgeous new record from the William Parker Quartet.

Passing It On To A New Band

2008-10-22T15:19:00.004-04:00

Dave Holland's latest, "Pass it On," features his latest band, a sextet that is both the same and different from all of his other bands in much the way that they are both the same and different from eachother. Let me clarify; this new band has the same tendency as all of Holland's classic bands (his latest long-running Nelson-Eubanks-Potter Quintet, or, say, the Steve Coleman-Marvin Smitty Smith groups of the 80s) to work with noir-ish chord progressions (most of the compositions here were recorded by earlier Holland bands) and incredibly intricate time signatures. It is different in that the personalities involved here are very different from those of earlier bands.

The only real newcomers to Holland's band are pianist Mulgrew Miller and drummer Eric Harland, as all of the others have appeared with some version of Holland's group in the past; trumpeter Alex Sipiagin and alto saxophonist Antonio Hart were featured on Holland's two big band albums, and Robin Eubanks has been a collaborator with Holland for almost two decades. The tunes are great, and the band's interplay is tasteful if a bit safe. In fact, that's the only problem with this album; it seems a little bit too safe for Holland. There are none of the five minute rhythm section-less dual solos of his Quintet that made Chris Potter and Robin Eubanks household names in the jazz world ten or so years ago, and while Eric Harland is a brilliant drummer and has shown himself to be one of the great young musicians elsewhere, his playing here isn't as dynamic as Billy Kilson's or Marvin Smitty Smith's.

Of course, those gripes are almost meaningless when you take into consideration that this band has only been together for a short time and will hopefully grow into their sound as a unit in the future; it took years for Holland's classic quintet to come together in the form it was in for a decade, and years more to evolve into the jazz combo of the 00's. The sextet format gives Holland a chance to explore more colors in his noirish, rhythmically propulsive vein, even though this band lacks the chaotic feel of some of his earlier bands, and lacks the crispness of his big band. The soloists all sound great, and the highlight of the record is Sipiagin's blazing display of both technique and emotion on this groups version of "Processional." Definitely worth a listen for Holland fans, although his sextet's next album will probably showcase a quantum leap in terms of band interplay.

Next time I'll have my monthly edition of "Tearing the New Downbeat Apart Limb by Limb," and you can expect hours of entertainment judging by the fact that opening section features an inquiry about "which jazz musician would make the best president," (Donny McCaslin doesn't think it should be who you think he thinks it should be) and two (TWO! WTF) five star reviews, one of which was actually written by a teacher of mine. So check back in a couple days.

Bobo Stenson Sings

2008-10-20T18:28:00.002-04:00

It's a shame that Bobo Stenson isn't thought of as one of the great pianists of his generation. Granted, he has been less than prolific throughout a career that began in earnest with 1969's "One Long String," and he is a European in what is an absurdly Amero-centric field. But looking at his credits, which include stints with Charles Lloyd and Stan Getz, not to mention work with every major European jazz musician and co-leading "Witchi-Tai-To," a record I've called the best on ECM, EVER, you get a sense that he belongs to any list that includes Keith and Herbie and Chick. "Cantando," his new record, proves that he hasn't done anything but get better over the years, and as such holds up next to any of the best later work of those three.

Of course it helps that Stenson's trio is as killin' as it's ever been, featuring long-time bassist Anders Jormin and young turk drummer Jon Falt. While Jormin plays in his usual post-LaFaro mode and throws roots and such to the wind for the most part, Falt serves as an anchor for the band even when his work is meant to add colour, as on "Chiquilin de Bachin." Falt plays time on his cymbals, combining an ability to serve as grounding for the band with his own personal flourishes. Jormin's arco work here, especially at the beginning of the album's closer, "Liebesode," is exceptional and melodic.

Stenson, however, is the star here, and the modern sound he manages to showcase on his piano belies the fact that he has been playing on records for forty years. He is easily recognizable as the pianist on both "Witchi-Tai-To" and on classic Lloyd records like "Notes From Big Sur." The opening track, Silvio Rodriguez' "Olivia," is a tour de force for Stenson, and his work here showcases the same jagged, economical, and still modern-sounding lyricism that has been his style ever since he came out of nowhere to be Sweden's premier pianist.

Next time I'll have a review of Dave Holland's new Sextet record, "Pass it On."

Charlie Haden Rambles, In a Good Way

2008-10-16T17:02:00.004-04:00

Charlie Haden's new "Rambling Boy" will probably come as a surprise to those who know him purely from his famous work in the free jazz idiom or from his more recent (somewhat smooth) collaborative work with the likes of Pat Metheny or Gonzalo Rubacalba. Metheny shows up on "Rambling Boy-" the record is actually not credited to Charlie Haden but to Charlie Haden Family and Friends- as does everyone from Elvis Costello (A friend of Haden's) to Jack Black (Haden's son-in-law). Oh yeah, and it's an old-school country blue-grass album in the vein of The Carter Family or, on faster tracks, Bill Monroe and his Bluegrass Boys.

In a career full of random shifts and curveballs (Haden's first and most famous recording features a free jazz orchestra playing Spanish folk music), "Rambling Boy" may well be the single most out-of-left-field recording in Haden's entire discography. It is not, however, a departure- quite the opposite. As a child, Haden sang with his family on their syndicated radio show, "Korn's-a-Krackin," and on here he sings the final tune, "Shenandoah," in the poignant, gravelly voice you would expect from an 81-year-old bass player raised on this music. His bass is brilliant, as always, even though he sits in the rhythm section, untrumpeted, for most of the recording.

Oddly, for an album with a cast so huge, each member of Haden's large band gets ample time to show off. The Haden Triplets (Petra, Tanya and Rachel) are featured in a few tracks, and daughter Petra gets a sings beautifully on the slow-building ballad "The Fields of Athenry." Guitarists Pat Metheny and Russ Barenberg duel throughout the record, and Roseanne Cash even pops by for a number ("Wildwood Flower"). The most rousing performance on the album, however, is by Haden's son, Josh, who sings his own "Spiritual." Unlike versions sung by Johnny Cash or played by Charlie and Metheny, either world-weary or melodramatic, this version builds to a rousing climax, with Josh Haden's voice finding just the right spot between gruff seriousness and wide-eyed curiosity.

Is "Rambling Boy" Jazz? No, although Metheny, pianist Buck White and banjo player Bela Fleck all play their fair shair of harmonically complex lines. The real question is: does it matter? Music is music, and Haden's new album showcases an exciting, different direction for him.

Complaining About the MacArthur Fellows Program

2008-10-12T14:54:00.003-04:00

The MacArthur Fellows program has continued in its hallowed tradition of haphazardly awarding $500,000 to random jazzers with a lot of press (God knows they need the money now); occasionally this award helps people who have no money make music (Ken Vandermark, for example) or even helps genius underground tycoons keep clubs and record labels in existence (John Zorn's "The Stone" and Tzadik). There are other times when they encourage people who desperately don't need encouragement; the best example I can think of of this particular phenomenon is Stanley Crouch. Did he need a MacArthur Fellowship? He didn't need the money, what with his lucrative position as Wynton's Rove-esque right hand man at Lincoln Center, nor the encouragement as he's made a habit of trash-talking Bill Evans in public.

Occasionally their choice is simply perplexing. They could give it to anyone. Anyone. Possible (jazz) candidates for a MacArthur Fellowship include Vijay Iyer, Steve Lehman, Marc Ribot, Anat Cohen, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Brad Mehldau, Nels Cline, Rudresh Mahanthappa, Avishai Cohen (trumpet), Avishai Cohen (bass), Jason Lindner, Jason Moran, Greg Osby, Steve Coleman, DAVE DOUGLAS, Uri Caine, Chris Potter, Mathias Eick, Jenny Scheinman, Christian Howes, Esperanza Spalding, Tyshawn Sorey, Ron Miles, BILL FRISELL, Matana Roberts, Steven Bernstein, Larry Goldings, Matt Wilson, Aaron Parks, Walter Smith III, Lionel Loueke, Eric Harland, Ambrose Akinmusire, Jaleel Shaw, Eric Friedlander, Lage Lund, Mike Moreno... you get the point. And that's only musicians. When you add writers you wind up with everyone from me (I'm all about potential, baby) to Howard Mandel.

You can see for yourselves which contrived composition writing, look-at-what-I-can-do improvisation-creating jazz musician got $500,000 to keep on keeping on instead of Dave Douglas or Bill Frisell, or any of those other people. I know, I know, the MacArthur fellowship is all about potential, and I suppose the guy who won has the potential to, you know, write and play completely different music and find a way to incorporate his folk songs and polyrhythms into a jazz idiom in a way that grooves or makes a statement or both (Like, you know, Vijay, Rudresh, Steve, Lionel... okay okay enough).

Terri Lyne Carrington Interview

2008-10-07T12:06:00.003-04:00

Sorry for the delay, folks; I recently interviewed Terri Lyne Carrington for the Berklee Groove. I've written an article about her that features a number of quotes from this, but doesn't have the whole thing. Consider yourself forewarned; it's pretty long. Here is the unedited Q&A:

Jazz Monster: How do you think the show went on Friday?
Terri Lyne Carrington: It was good; it wasn’t perfect. I didn’t have a working a band and the band I was with couldn’t rehearse until the day before, so we made our share of mistakes. People seemed to really enjoy it though.

JM: I know you teach at Berklee- do you think of playing in Boston as playing on home turf?
TLC: Well, I only play here a few times a year. Because of the fact that I teach here and the audience is made up of students for the most part [at the BPC], there’s a little bit more pressure than in other places- but that can be exhilarating. Last night we started a bit late and the sound wasn’t optimum, sometimes there are just some sound issues onstage.

JM: After your gig at the BPC, you flew out to Germany. Is there a difference between playing in Boston and playing in Luxembourg?
TLC: Yes, there is. We played in a town about a half hour out from Luxembourg, and so that alone made it very different from playing in Boston. It was a nice show; the only holdover from the gig we played in Boston was the horn player, Tineke Postma.

JM: How did your current group come together?
TLC: Generally it’s not exactly the same group. There are some people I’ll use for some things, but usually it just depends on who can make a show. I often use [pianist] Geri Allen, Arwan Akiv, [Bassist and Berklee graduate] John Lockwood, or [bassist and recent Berklee graduate] Hogyu Hwang. Sometimes I do projects with all women, and that line-up generally features myself, [bassist and Berklee faculty member] Esperanza Spalding, Tineke Postma and Geri Allen. When I want a guitar player I usually get a guy named Tim Miller, who is also on faculty here at Berklee. In Poland, where I’m playing in a week, I’ll be playing with Tim Miller, Hogyu Hwang and [Berklee student] Alex Han. Overall, I guess it just depends on the gig.

JM: Do you write most of the material in for your band?
TLC: I write most of it, yes. Sometimes band members contribute songs; the other night at the BPC we played a song by Tim Miller even though he wasn’t there, but I’d say that I write most of the songs we play.

JM: How do you go about writing tunes?
TLC: Generally I hear a melody in my head, and then I add harmony. Sometimes I write the harmony first, but not as often; whenever I finish with the melody and the harmony, I figure out the bass and drums.

JM: How did your album “Structure” come about?
TLC: That band [which featured saxophonist Greg Osby, guitarist Adam Rogers and bassist Jimmy Haslip] came about for a tour of Europe under a deal I had with my record company at the time. It was my deal, but it was a very cooperative group; after the tour we went and recorded the album.

JM: Any plans to reunite that group in the future?
TLC: Who knows? We’ve all got very different schedules; we all have our own careers. It would be nice though.

JM: Switching gears, how does your educational work affect your playing?
TLC: I think that teaching definitely makes me better as a player. There are certain things you have to explain; you have to come up with formulas and exercises. It’s brought more clarity to my playing, and it keeps me fresh as a player.

JM: How do you approach your work as a side-person versus your work as a leader?
TLC: I think the two are totally different. As a side-person, I’m trying to accommodate the leader and be honest to the music. As a leader I have my own vision that I’m trying to work toward. I suppose it just comes down to different roles: you’re either the vision-driver or the vision-supporter.

JM: What’s the difference between working in a strictly jazz setting versus working on The Arsenio Hall Show or [Sinbad’s show] Vibe?
TLC: It’s a very different sound, especially in the drums. In a band like the Arsenio band, you just want to play really strong groove-oriented stuff, whereas in a jazz setting you want to be more creative. I suppose there are different freedoms in both.

JM: What are your plans for the near future?
TLC: I’m recording with Mike Stern in January, and then soon after that I’ll be recording Tineke Postma’s new album. My own new album, which is more of a groove-jazz oriented kind of thing, is just about done with mixing and post-production, so it should be out in February or March. Also, I’m excited to take my band with Esperanza Spalding, Gary Thomas and Arwan Akiv out to play at the Blue

Not Exactly A Free Jazz Round-Up

2008-09-28T23:52:00.003-04:00

I know; I promised a round up of new free jazz recordings, and that was what I was initially planning on writing about. But then I heard Joel Harrison's "The Wheel," one of those albums that I've put off listening to forever; it's good, and it wasn't what I was expecting. Generally, when I hear "jazz with strings" without the words "Bill Frisell" and/or "Jenny Scheinman" (or, I suppose, "Anat Cohen") nearby, I cower away and put on "Esperanza" or "The Bird and the Bee" or whatever other catchy, unpretentious album I have nearby that I don't have to feel bad about listening to. Of course, "The Wheel" has nothing in common with the other album I'd like to talk about, "Beyond Quantum," which is a collaboration between saxophonist Anthony Braxton, drummer Milford Graves and bassist William Parker.

Joel Harrison's "The Wheel" is a collaboration between Harrison's jazz quintet (Harrison on guitar, David Binney on alto, Ralph Alessi on trumpet, Lindsey Horner on bass and Dan Weiss on drums) and a string quartet (Todd Reynolds and Christian Howes on violin, Caleb Burns on viola and Wendy Sutter on cello). It is not, however, a series of songs written for jazz quintet with string arrangements; the quartet is fully integrated in the band. Like Jenny Scheinman's recent "Crossing the Field" and Bill Frisell's "History Mystery," the feel is more rural-jazz than third-stream, as the strings improvise along with the rest of the band and the proceedings are given over to music reminiscent of Copland and folk melodies. The final track, "In Memorium: Dana Breyton," features Harrison's guitar, and his solo is characterized by long-held tones and beautiful phrasing. Recommended.

It's almost hard to believe that Anthony Braxton, William Parker and Milford Graves have never played together in a trio before "Beyond Quantum." In addition to the fact of both Braxton and Parker's prolificness, the album simply sounds like it was made by people who have been playing together forever. Braxton's snaky, staccato attack creates a polar contrast to Parker's melodic approach to his bass playing, and Graves serves as the level headed one; a moderator for the arguments that the other two carry out. Braxton plays four separate saxophones (I know the four types that you're thinking of- you've probably only got one right), and his approach to each instrument is slightly different, but equally violent. His bass saxophone plods, crushing everything around it, while his sopranino attacks like one of the namesakes of Hitchcock's "The Birds." Recommended for those who like a little bit of psychotic energy with their free jazz.

Next time I will probably post a conversation with Terri Lyne Carrington, who I will be interviewing for the Berklee Groove tomorrow morning. You can expect a more sanitized version of that published in the next issue of The Groove. Also, tomorrow night I will be doing the first of what will be a bi-weekly segment for my friend James Krivchenia's show "Switch it Up" at 12 AM (as in, at night) on the Berklee Internet Radio Network

In Defense of Criticism

2008-09-27T15:29:00.003-04:00

Just for the record, I'm clearly a bit too young to be writing this. I've been doing this (some form of music "journalism" or "criticism-" whatever you want to call it) for about a year in this forum and for various other publications. I wouldn't call myself a professional, although I have been paid for my writing on occasion. That said, I spend an exorbitant amount of time reading criticism in a few different mediums (I like film critics more than jazz critics- they tend to be less interchangeable), and after reading Ambrose Akinmusire's comment about my review his (good, in my opinion) album I feel the need to mount something of a defense of criticism in general, because there are a few reasons that it does (and should) exist.

Music, like film, is a commercial art. CD's are not generally given out for free. When you buy a CD, you're stuck with it whether you wind up enjoying the music or not due to copyright infringement fears on the part of record stores. So when you spend your 15 dollars (!) on an album, it had better be worth it. I try to tailor my reviews for the people I think will like an album; there's a reason I bring up the fact that a Marc Ribot-Anthony Coleman-Brad Jones concert isn't for everyone even though I would have sat through five sets and wanted more. The point isn't to get people to not buy music, but the opposite. I hope that this blog has inspired people to buy CDs that they wound up enjoying. I also hope that they realize that I am not the final (or really any sort of meaningful) authority on jazz, and that there are plenty of other people out there who write about music that have different opinions from me.

Which brings me to my next point: criticism creates a discourse. I like to read a number of reviews from various critics before I go out and see a movie, and I usually reread them after I've seen it to see if someone else's opinion on it can enlighten or clarify my own. I like it when I read something that I disagree with, because sometimes it makes me see the object of criticism in a different light.

The main point that I dislike in the comment is the idea that I don't "get" Mr. Akinmusire's album. I don't say that because I think I understand something profound about the album (or any album), but because I think there are as many ways to "get" a work of art as there are people who listen to that work of art, especially in an art form as esoteric as music. Akinmusire's point about differing experiences and beliefs is a good one; there's a reason that Roger Ebert's reviews often disagree (or disagreed) with those of A.O. Scott, or Manohla Dargis, or Pauline Kael, and why all four of them have occasionally gotten in trouble with the film-makers whose work they have reviewed. I would love to interview Mr. Akinmusire for this blog and have him talk about "Prelude," because it would be interesting to hear what he was thinking when he made his record in his own words.

Either way, those are all just some philosophical thoughts on the nature and point of criticism. Feel free to disagree with them and write about it in the comments section (beware though, in criticizing the very concept of criticism, you are yourself becoming a critic). And I'm serious about the interview. As for whoever reads this and sent Akinmusire the review: thank you! I love it when musicians read my reviews of their stuff and agree/disagree with what I say, and I'm always surprised to find out that anyone actually reads this to begin with. Next time I'll actually have a round-up of some recent free-jazz.

Two Good Downbeats? In One Year? Naaahhh...

2008-09-20T00:29:00.003-04:00

It's true. Although it isn't quite as good as the Vijay Iyer-Jason Moran-Matthew Shipp cover which featured Jenny Scheinman and Kurt Rosenwinkel, the new Downbeat is absolutely killer. Can you remember the last time (discounting that issue, of course) that Downbeat managed to run feature articles on three real-live interesting musicians? Musicians whose music could actually be qualified as experimental? And this time the didn't even temper Bill Frisell's all-inclusive nature by calling him the Wynton Marsalis of, I dunno, Seattle. The other main articles are about William Parker (a free jazz musician!) and Tomasz Stanko (a EUROPEAN (occasional) free jazz musician!).

But, as always, the best section is the "Players" section (not to be confused with the "Playaz" section- originally created for Miles Davis); this time around it features my favorite young trumpet player at the moment, Mathias Eick. As much as I love Christian Scott and Ambrose Akinmusire, Eick is the only young musician (period.) who has anything approaching tact in his playing. And then, of course, there are the extremely interesting musicians that I'd never heard of that I am presently listening to (harpist Edmar Castaneda and Anne Mette Iversen in this issue). In all honesty, I occasionally wish that Downbeat were simply a 90 page "Players" section.

Granted, though, if it were I wouldn't be able to gripe about Downbeat's occasional faux pas. There was one I could find in this issue, and in all honesty it's pretty small and most people will not notice it. However, in spite of that, it is a huge faux pas. In a review of "In Sweden: November 22, 1950," critic John McDonough writes that "after a prolific 65-year recording career, [Arne Domnerus] remains active today at 83." Those of you who read this blog are aware of the fact that Domnerus is dead. Granted, he probably died after Downbeat went to press. But still.

Also, in a random sidenote: would I be correct in saying that the contrabass sarrusophone is making a come-back in jazz in a big way? I saw not just one, but two references to the absurdly obscure, gigantic behemoth of a double-reed instrument in this issue. I'm almost tempted to turn it into a Where's Waldo style contest for you readers out there, but I'll give them away: James Carter owns two (TWO!!!! WHERE DOES HE FIT THEM?) of them, and Scott Robinson apparently plays one on his new record, "Forever Lasting" (HOW DO YOU PLAY IT?!).

Next time I'll have a round-up of some recent free-jazz recordings, including the new CD from the Anthony Braxton-Milford Graves-William Parker axis.

Different Angles from Jacob Young

2008-09-15T21:48:00.003-04:00

By all possible counts, ECM is making a huge comeback. Between a reissue series that shows its catalogue in a new light, brilliant albums from old stalwarts (a smattering of new albums by Keith Jarrett's Standards Trio; Marylin Mazur's "Elixer"), and one of the best (if not the best) albums of the year from a young musician (Mathias Eick's recent "The Door"), ECM is beginning to really give the American labels a serious run for their money. Into this fray comes Jacob Young's "Sideways," a sort of statement of purpose from the stalwarts and young turks alike. Young has recorded before for ECM; in 2004, his "Evening Falls" made a splash amongst European jazz enthusiasts, but barely registered in the States. Hopefully "Sideways" is accessible enough to give Young some recognition; by the looks of it, however (two stars in downbeat?!), "Sideways" is going to be treated as "just another ECM record," which is a shame.

The real star of "Sideways" is not the leader, but the young Mathias Eick, who can be heard here- in all of his subtle glory- playing trumpet. While "Sideways" is neither as adventurous nor as beautiful as Eick's recent debut, "The Door," there are many similarities in the music; both albums feature a jarring amount of space, and both albums are interested in off-kilter melodies. The likenesses stop there, however, and the appearance of both a saxophone player and a guitar player differentiate the proceedings. There are more subtle differences however; whereas songs like "Williamsburg" and "December" on "The Door" merely hinted at melody, Young's approach on songs like "Slow Bo-Bo" is much more transparent. Eick plays beautifully on Young's songs, as does the saxophone player, Vidar Johansen.

The biggest problem with "Sideways" is that Young's own playing is not as memorable as that of his sidemen, or as memorable as his tunes. In addition to Eick and Johansen, the veteran drummer Jon Christensen- the player both in Keith Jarrett's famed European Quartet, and on Jan Garbarek's "Wichi-Tai-To," perhaps the greatest ECM recording ever- and the bassist Mats Eilertsen are here to liven up the proceedings. Add the brilliance of the other musicians to the aching beauty of songs like "Hanna's Lament," and Young simply gets lost in the mix. The only thing I have jotted down about Young's playing on this album (after having heard the album twice, mind you) is that it is "subtle." Go figure. In spite of this fact, however, I would unequivocally recommend this album, especially for fans of the brilliant Eick. If you are not aware of Eick's work, pick up "The Door" instead.

Joe Lovano With Strings

2008-09-12T12:04:00.002-04:00

Why do bad things happen to good people? One of the most important questions in human history, and arguably the question that most religious doctrine is designed to answer, "Why do bad things happen to good people" is a pretty important phrase. When you tweak it a little bit you can get questions that apply to almost any situation you could find yourself in. "Why can't I get laid even though I work for the Red Cross" for example. If you tweak it even a little bit more, you wind up with a question that applies to Joe Lovano's "Symphonica," recorded with WDR Radio Big Band and Orchestra: Why do bad string arrangements happen to good musicians?

I suppose there is one easy answer to that question: string arrangements in jazz are bad. Even the greatest symphonic jazz album ever, "Charlie Parker With Strings," was filled with overwrought sentiment; the album probably would have been better if it had been simply called "Charlie Parker." Granted, there are exceptions, Jenny Scheinman's "Crossing the Field," which comes out on CD next month, utilizes a full orchestra in parts, and is without question one of the best albums of the year.

Lovano plays well through-out; granted, his playing here has nothing on last year's "Kids," with Hank Jones, but he manages to show his off-kilter harmonic vision through-out with his angular runs and odd note choice. The other soloists, who include Paul Shigihara on guitar and Karolina Strassmayer on alto sax, are also capable players, although they play it safer than Lovano. The tunes themselves are pretty great; a smattering of songs from Lovano's illustrious career, the best of which are "Eternal Joy," which features some knotty lines, and "Alexander the Great."

So then what is it, exactly, that makes "Symphonica" so terrible? The arrangements. Certain songs are arranged more than others- a harrowingly sappy "Duke Ellington's Sound of Love" comes to mind. Of course there are exceptions, and the closer, a take on the changes from "Body and Soul" called "I'm All For You" features some brilliant playing from Lovano and an arrangement that manages to dodge melodrama. For the most part, though, the feeling after hearing "Symphonica" is a lot like the feeling after eating too many mallowmars; a bloated, sugary mess of a feeling that almost certainly leads to a nap, possibly before you've even finished.

News Round-Up: Lincoln Center Galore

2008-09-11T00:00:00.005-04:00

I know what you're thinking: "Oh Jazz Monster, could it be? Are you actually posting regularly again?" Well, actually, you probably aren't thinking that. Because you probably aren't expecting this post for another week. That said, though, I am actually going to make an attempt at going back to the usual grind of writing constantly about new releases, reissues, news, and so on and so forth, and also try and gauge the death of jazz.

And where better to gauge the death of jazz than at Lincoln Center, the evil, looming, midtown fortress of the 80s "young lions" movement? Jazz At Lincoln Center has given out a few major announcements recently, not least of which being that its Executive Director position is changing hands for the sixth time in six years to those of an accountant. Why? Because Lincoln Center is so huge that they don't even know what to do with all of their space and money. Tonic closed last year, and Lincoln Center only gets more powerful by the day... Who will be next to fall to die while Jazz At Lincoln Center gobbles up even more of the area around it? The Stone? The Jazz Gallery?

Granted, not everything they do there is bad, but it is all evil. They just announced their "Swing University" (If only they would suck it up and change their title from "Jazz At Lincoln Center" to "Swing Museum") line-up, and a few classes are being taught by ma boi, Phil Schaap. For those of you who do not know Phil Schaap, he's the man behind Birdflight on WKCR (8:20 AM on 89.9 in the NYC area), and is known through-out the land for his ability to spend an entire hour-long show switching off between self-aggrandizing lunacy ("But here, on Birdflight, it is my job to show, to teach, about the life of Charlie Parker") and stupid minutiae ("As you know, and as I said last week, this record date occurred in late March of '41- well, actually, that's debatable, some say early April, but I believe that that claim has been disproven on numerous occasions"). That said though, he is the man and you should listen to his show; I think I learned more about Charlie Parker the first hour I listened to his show than I ever believed I had wanted to, but somehow Schaap makes it all kind of captivating.

In (even) sadder news, the brilliant European clarinetist and saxophonist Arne Domnerus died recently. I don't know his work as well as I could, but having heard "Jazz at the Pawnshop" I can say that he was easily one of the greatest European jazz cats ever, and possibly the best before the rise of Jan Garbarek, the norse God of Norwegian jazz, and ECM in the seventies. Domnerus' style was informed by bop, and he shared a rhythm section with Charlie Parker during a Parker gig in 1950, which has recently been issued on a CD.

Next time I'll try and have a review of "Symphonica," the new Joe Lovano record. But if that doesn't work out, you can expect me to continue improvising (HAH!).

Albums I Wish Existed

2008-09-08T17:56:00.005-04:00

Alright, so here's the deal: I have not posted in this blog in about a week due to a faulty modem in my new apartment. The problem has not been fixed yet (hopefully it will be in the near future), but for the time being I am stuck piggy-backing on a terrible wireless connection that is too slow and fickle for me stream or download any of the music that I would later review here. The good news, however, is that I can at least continue to blog about news or write ridiculous entries like this one, which has nothing to do with anything. Hopefully somebody close to the people I mention here will see this and go "man, you should really make that record," but they probably won't. Either way, here are some albums that I desperately want to hear:

"Jazz Moves On to the Year 3000: Robert Glasper Plays the Music of Kool Keith"
Robert Glasper plays all of The Automator's beats from "Dr. Octagonocologyst" in much the same way he plays a bunch of Dilla beats on "J-Dillalude" from "In My Element."

"Bronenosets Potyomkin" by Dave Douglas
Dave Douglas' new project, featuring some brilliant young musicians- including acclaimed young tenor saxophone player Walter Smith III- and a healthy dollop of electronics, is an attempt at making music for the early silent-era films of the Soviet auteur Sergei Eisenstein. Douglas' long and well-researched liner notes contain a 20 page essay on Eisenstein's life and career.

"Everything" by Gary Burton's late-60s Quartet
All of those impossible-to-find-yet-apparently-brilliant records, starting with 1967's "Duster," that I desperately need to hear, are now being reissued in one neat little 10-disc (it includes plenty of out-takes) package. The kicker, of course, is that it only costs $10. Apparently guitarist Larry Coryell's work on this stuff is brilliant and influential, but of course I haven't heard it yet.

"Experimental, Thought-Provoking Music" by Jan Garbarek
The long-coming follow-up to 1974's "Witchi-Tai-To" that has only been hinted at in his discography since.

"Donny McCaslin Plays the Music of Chris Potter"
I know I know, I didn't notice when Chris Potter was replaced by Donny McCaslin in Dave Douglas' quintet, and you won't notice that it is in fact Downbeat rising star of the year Donny McCaslin playing Potter's solos- note for note- on this brilliant new album.

"Black and Proud: The Malcolm X Suite" by Wynton Marsalis
Wynton Marsalis' brilliant new suite, written about the great African American leader Malcolm X, was inspired by sources as eclectic as Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn, and will be played at Lincoln Center for the predominantly white audience that can afford to go to view "America's Classical Music" before being released as a five-disc opus.

Yes, this whole entry was a stupid, nerdy joke. I promise I'll have a substantive review as soon as the comcast people come and give me a replacement modem. Until then, though, you can enjoy this interview with Donny McCaslin, whose new "Lift-" excuse me, "Recommended Tools-" is now out on Greenleaf.

The Altered State of Myriam

2008-09-02T21:29:00.003-04:00

Don't let the top credit on Myriam Alter's new "Where Is There" confuse you, although Myriam Alter is a piano player (and apparently a "fine" one, accorded to a few critics; I have never heard her other records), she does not play anything on the album. Instead, she composes the eight original tunes. The arrangement- the person with the lead credit composes and conducts, but does not play- is reminiscent of John Zorn's Bar Kokhba Sextet, which is fitting; bassist Greg Cohen and drummer Joey Baron, both long-time Zorn associates, are featured on this record. Salvatore Bonafede plays piano on this date, and as such is somewhat liker her alter (get it?)-ego.

All in all, the playing is pretty good. The last few tracks are more interesting in that they have more room for some free improvisation from the group, which also includes clarinetist John Ruocco, cellist Jacque Morelenbaum and pyrotechnical soprano saxophonist Pierre Vaiana, whose playing here recalls that of Daniel Zamir. Vaiana has very few showcases on the album (with such a big cast of players, individual solos are relatively sparse), but when he does solo, as on "I'm Telling You," he commands attention like no one else playing on the album.

But, of course, that's not the point; it is Myriam Alter's album, and it feels that way. Alter's compositions, and not the player's solos, are the backbone of the record. Like Zamir and Zorn, Alter is influenced by traditional Jewish music, but the more fitting comparison- and the one I've heard most from other critics- is to young clarinetist Anat Cohen. Like Cohen, Alter is more interested in created complex colours with her band's oddly voiced instrumentation as opposed to writing heads for the various musicians to solo over. This doesn't always work, of course- "September 11th" (can you guess what that one's supposed to evoke?) is a somewhat sludge-y dirge, and "Come With Me" drags on a bit too long. For the most part though, the compositions are interesting, and even occasionally beautiful, as in the tango sounding "Still in Love." Recommended to those who are intrigued by the description; it isn't your average jazz record.

ECM Madness, Part 1

2008-08-31T21:15:00.005-04:00

So ECM has just begun what I can only describe as a massive archival series. This month alone, ECM is re-releasing 15 classic (or so the copy says) CDs in nice little 11 dollar cardboard slip cases, probably in some kind of misguided attempt at getting in on Blue Note's RVG-series action. Of course, ECM's new slip discs could never compete with the RVG series; there aren't enough ECM records that are considered "classics" by the jazz intelligentsia (plus the jazz intelligentsia has a habit of making fun of the as-far-as-I-can-tell non-existant "ECM sound"), although their back-catalogue is probably just as varied and fruitful as a whole. Either way, here's your guide to the first batch of those archival discs.

As should be expected, some CDs considered "classics" by ECM are pretty terrible. I'm surprised that there hasn't been more of a critical reappraisal of John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner's "Sargasso Sea," which is probably the most typically "ECM" album I've ever heard, and the sort of album that critics point to when they talk about the "ECM Sound." Towner plays a bunch of sus chords, and Abercrombie plays some predictable guitar over it. It isn't very good. Of course, other albums that are also very typically ECM are great; "Dreams So Real," arguably Gary Burton's best album in print (I have yet to hear the out-of-print RCA stuff he did with Larry Coryell), is also full of sus chords and clean guitars, but happens to be brilliant. The tunes, written by Carla Bley, form a suite for Burton and some incredible sidemen (the record introduced the world to Pat Metheny) to improvise over. The best parts of the album are sublime, showing what made the "ECM Sound" popular to begin with.

Of course, as I said earlier, 'The ECM Sound" is a myth, as some of the best reissues show: Dave Holland's "Extensions" is extremely funky, and altoist Steve Coleman is so sharp and energetic on it that he sounds like he'd cut through "ECM Sound"ing wide open spaces like a knife. The tunes themselves are also too complex to fit with the aforementioned albums. Granted, "Extensions" came out more than a decade after the other two, but people still talk about "The ECM Sound" almost twenty years after "Extensions." Plus, "Gnu High," probably Kenny Wheeler's best record, is just as good and it came out before "Dreams So Real." Although there are only three tracks (the shortest clocks in at about 8 minutes), Wheeler packs a huge amount of punch into the album; his sidemen Keith Jarrett, Jack DeJohnette, and Holland (all ECM stalwarts and Miles Davis alums) each sound great, whether during individual solos or group improvisations.

Of course, there are other notable records being reissued; "American Garage," an absolutely awful Pat Metheny Group record (how many Pat Metheny Group records couldn't be described that way?) that happens to be popular and has received critical praise from everybody (it has 4 1/2 stars out of 5 on Allmusic.com; perhaps the allmusic system of scoring is like the golf system). I think "bad album from the Pat Metheny Group" is enough of a description, but unless you like that stuff, stay far away. I have a friend who heard "Bright Size Life," Metheny's brilliant debut, and bought "American Garage" afterwards, thinking, "Man, it can't be that bad." Let his tragic (but true) story be a cautionary tale for you. You don't want to be the guy who wasted his 11 dollars on an album of the Kenny-G-of-the-Guitar playing odd-meter Ray Charles rip-offs. And then there's Jack DeJohnette's "Special Edition," which some think of as having the best, err, edition, of that band. I don't think it holds a candle to later albums with Gary Thomas and Greg Osby, but with David Murray and Arthur Blythe you can't really go wrong.

So there you go, ECM's first series of reissues. There are more coming out on September 30th, so you can expect another lengthy appraisal then. For now, though, that's ECM Madness! Next time I'll review something or other, and it will probably even be new!

Return to the Jazz Concept Album

2008-08-29T20:40:00.005-04:00

Some "Travelers" embark on a journey, led by a "Peaceful Warrior" who shows them the way to their destination; but wait! The great warrior's "Nemesis" steps out in front of the group, taunting them, taking a small child from the group and shouting "Riddle Me This" at the top of his lungs in a menacing fashion and asking terrible questions until they are forced to follow him "Into the Labyrinth." The warrior fights and eventually beats the nemesis, shouting "'Karma''s a bitch!" at the top of his lungs. The travelers exit the labyrinth and stop at a "Roadside Distraction" before finally breaking into a "Harvesting Dance" when they've finally reached their destination. The warrior is showered with "Praise" for the way he handled the fight with his nemesis, and the "Afterglow" of the whole incident stays with the group of travelers, following them wherever they go.

That, as far as I can discern, is the plot of Aaron Parks' "Invisible Cinema" (complete with song titles) and, yes, when you view the record in that light, it comes off as overwrought and more than a little corny. Parks has made a point out of not giving away the plot he came up with to the press (it would cease to be "Invisible"), but I think my overview was vague enough as to fit pretty much anything he could have come up with. Point is, the song-titles are really lame.

The music, however, is another story. Like Mathias Eick's "The Door-" a better album than "Invisible Cinema," but don't let that give you the wrong impression of Parks' record- Parks' work manages to imply the feeling of some rock music more in spirit than in sound. "Nemesis" features a 7/8 feel that reminds one more of Radiohead's odd-tempo work-outs than Brad Mehldau's. The compositions are, for the most part, great, although certain tracks drag on for a bit too long. "Peaceful Warrior," which features an interesting, catchy head, eventually is bogged down in lengthy solos from Parks and guitar player Mike Moreno. The same goes for "Harvesting Dance," which, in spite of an interesting chord progression and some interesting work from those two and the other sidemen Eric Harland (drums) and Matt Penman (bass) also goes on for too long.

With those exceptions, however, "Invisible Cinema" is a pretty tight record at about a 50 minute length; unlike some other records from young people recently, it doesn't wear out its welcome, and there's enough going on for multiple listens. Recommended.

Hilariously Incongruous Statements From the New Downbeat

2008-08-24T21:41:00.003-04:00

There's a quote in the new Downbeat; a quote that's so good it warrants reprinting here over and over and over again, because it only gets funnier every time you read it and think about it a bit more. But first, here's a little bit of perspective for those of you who have not been turned onto Courtney Pine, possibly the most famous saxophone player (and jazz musician) from Britain: he loves pop music, especially hip hop and reggae, listens to it all the time, and lets that music influence his brand of jazz. If you don't believe me, here's his myspace. Still don't believe me? Here's his album, "Back in the Day;" according to the product description, it's for fans of "R&B, Soul, Urban, and Hip Hop as well as jazz." I'd say his music is more like a free jazz Two-Tone record from the 80s than, say, Duke Ellington. Also, just for perspective, here's Dr. (dig the part about prescription drugs) Wynton Marsalis- the most in touch cat in all of American jazz- talking about Hip Hop.

What does this have to do with Downbeat? The opening quote in their article about Courtney Pine:

"Courtney Pine might be dubbed the 'Wynton Marsalis of British jazz,' given his standing as spokesman and abettor of his home country's music"

I know what you're thinking: "It's not April fool's day, is it? Should I check my calendar? This isn't funny, jazz monster..." No, it isn't April Fool's day. This is an actual quote from the actual new issue of Downbeat. I'm assuming that in spite of the interview, the author (a certain unfortunately named Micheal Jackson, who has just made a faux pas the equivalent of hanging a baby out of a window) didn't bother to listen to Pine's music.

There isn't anything else quite that ridiculous in this issue, although there are a couple more random moments of hilarity, like, say, the incredibly ironic title of the cover article: "Ravi Coltrane: The Next Trane Finds His Voice." So, which is it? Is he the next Trane? Or did he find his voice? Plus, for an article about a young musician who apparently (according to the article, at least) sounds like no one else and doesn't stand in anybody's shadow, they sure do mention JC (No, I'm not talking about Jesus Christ, although this other cat also died a few years too young) a lot.

Also, there's another laugh-out-loud hilarious blind-fold test with Robert Glasper thinking that everyone and their mother is Gonzalo Rubacalba and admitting he hasn't really ever gotten into Vijay Iyer. And Gretchen Parlato signed to Obliqsound, but I knew that months ago. I can't remember if I mentioned it here or not; either way, she's a brilliant (and smokin') young singer and I'm excited to hear her next record.

Maybe next time I'll have a full-on lengthy review of Aaron Parks' "Invisible Cinema," or maybe I won't.

Straight Ahead: New Ones from John McNeil and Bill McHenry, Scott Hamilton, The Harry Allen and Joe Cohn Quartet

2008-08-21T21:31:00.004-04:00

The year is 2008, and everywhere you turn you hit a brilliant new jazz record built on some sort of innovative concept, whether it's the pointed math-jazz of Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic," the Copland-esque strings of Jenny Scheinman's rural jazz masterpiece "Crossing the Field" or the latin-inflected contemporary R&B of Esperanza Spalding's "Esperanza." They're all over the place, the landscape this year just seems filled with young people whose main interest is in moving jazz into territories it hasn't gone before, and who seem to be heaped with adoration from the press for it. But where are all of the old-school bop records? Granted, there have been some great straight-ahead records from really old people- Buddy DeFranco and Marian McPartland come to mind. But what about newer musicians who want to swing without any pretensions; people who want to play music you can jitterbug to? Well, here come Joe Cohn, Harry Allen, Scott Hamilton, John McNeil, and Bill McHenry to fill that void.

Granted, tenor saxophonist Scott Hamilton has been on the scene for more than thirty years now, but he's never really reached recognition beyond that of a cult musician, and he hangs out with Cohn and Allen, so I guess he belongs here. Hamilton's newest offering, "Across the Tracks," is a lot like all of his other offerings, but a little bit bluesier; that is to say, he swings like it's a 1950 Jazz At the Plaza recording, but with a couple more blue notes than you're used to from him. You can probably blame this on Duke Robillard, who plays bluesy guitar here, but this preoccupation with the 12 bar form is hardly a problem. When the band does play standards, they tend to be ballads; Hamilton's reading of "Sweet Slumber" is lovely, but his version of "Memories of You," which closes the album, is a little too wooden to stand up next to other tenor players' classic takes on the song- just compare it to the Roland Kirk/Jaki Byard version from 1968's "The Jaki Byard Experience."

Hamilton is a guest of the Harry Allen-Joe Cohn Quartet on their recent release, "Stompin' the Blues," and is more fun to listen to in this context; Cohn is a far more subtle and wide-ranging guitarist than Robillard, and it shows in his comping when he interacts with Hamilton and the other tenor player, co-leader Harry Allen (no really). Allen himself is also in fine form here, tackling some lesser-known standards. All in all, the musicians party like it's 1948, and they're all playing at a Norman Grantz-lead Jazz-At-The-Plaza session. Granted, there's nothing at all innovative or challenging about this record, but I suppose there are times when that's just what the doctor's ordered. Did I mention that Joe Cohn kills it? Recommended.

For those who like a healthy dollop of Ornette Coleman with their obscure cool-jazz/mainstream jazz standards, John McNeil and Bill McHenry have created "Rediscovery," an odd little release of west-coast tunes on which co-leader McNeil plays his trumpet in a fashion that somehow finds touchstones in Chet Baker and Lester Bowie. The two lead a piano-less quartet, like those lead by both Coleman and Baker, but mostly give a sort of free-bop treatment to esoteric works by Gerry Mulligan and Russ Freeman. The best tune in this collection is also the most famous: Mulligan's "Godchild." Both McNeil and McHenry play coolly blistering solos (I'm aware that that is an oxymoron, but you'll have to hear them for yourself) before allowing their rhythm section to take the reins. Also recommended.

I think next time I'll post a lengthy series of gripes about the new Downbeat (the best part is the Blindfold Test, where Robert Glasper thinks that every piano player he hears is Gonzalo Rubacalba- including Ethan Iverson of The Bad Plus), but that won't be at least until Monday, as I'm going to be without an internet connection this weekend.

A Door Opens

2008-08-19T21:57:00.003-04:00

Mathias Eick's "The Door," his first album as a leader, does not conjure up the object in its title. To my ears, "The Door" sounds more like a window peering out into a frozen plain; you can almost feel the cold breeze when you listen to the record in Eick's tones on trumpet, which are left to linger in soundscapes of his own creation. Like a frozen breeze, Eick's work is refreshing in an almost uncomfortable way, and "The Door" is the first album since Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic" this year to give me chills. Eick, who is not yet thirty, wasn't even alive when fellow Norwegian Jan Garbarek was making his name with Keith Jarrett's European Quartet, but Garbarek's influence, and that of the other great early ECM artists like Bobo Stenson and Bill Frisell, can be heard in every note of "The Door." The "ECM sound" is all over the record, but it works. People complain about the wide open spaces inherent in ECM records, but they fit Eick like a glove.

In spite of all of the jazz, there is also a discernible pop influence in the young trumpet player's work, albeit a very subtle one. Unlike his other young counterparts here in the States, who wear their hip-hop and R&B influences like a glove, Eick is more interested in the feeling than the actual sound. "Williamsburg," the album's centerpiece, has a hook worthy of a pop song and contains a fair amount of improvisation, but builds like a classical work; it's impossible to pigeonhole the tune into any one genre, but the aesthetic is clear. "Williamsburg" isn't just meant to be heard, but to be felt. The band breaks down a few times, going into understatedly short, rehearsed free sections, before coming back with the song's insistent piano groove. Eick himself plays beautifully, imbuing the song with a quiet weight. For such a young player, Eick has already found an extremely individual voice; after having heard "The Door," I could never mix Eick's understated beauty up with the work of any of the plethora of other young trumpet players on the scene today.

His sidemen are not here to provide back-up, however; in spite of the fact that many tunes are developed in the traditional head-solos-head fashion, they are too textured to be mistaken for normal straight-ahead jazz. When Eick solos, the band solos with him: pianist John Balke, drummer Auden Klieve, and bassist Auden Erlien all double on various other instruments through-out the record to match Eick's various moods, and each member eggs the other on when the leader isn't soloing. Eick seems to be heralding something of a renaissance in Norwegian jazz, in spite of guest spots on all kinds of albums, his "The Door" is the first one to take the works of the older Europeans and add something substantial to them. "The Door" is possibly the most beautiful album I've heard all year, and it doesn't hurt that I've never heard anything quite like it. Highly recommended.

Quite DAPPer

2008-08-17T13:50:00.005-04:00

Andy Milne hates it when people compare his music to that of his mentor, the M-Base founder and possibly the most important figure in 80s jazz: Steve Coleman. In interviews, Milne tries to dodge the subject of Steve Coleman's leadership, and instead attempts to steer the conversation away from his time in Coleman's band and towards his solo work. It's kind of stupid, in all honesty, because when you listen to Milne's band, Dapp Theory, you can hear that it is absolutely permeated with Coleman's influence; the odd-meter funk, the hip-hop influence, the spoken word vocals- it's all pure Coleman. But it also isn't. Milne has taken Coleman's music and done something a little bit different with it. Yeah, it's a pretty subtle difference. But it's enough that makes Dapp Theory one of the most interesting bands around right now.

"Layers of Chance" is Dapp Theory's second record, and its first in five years. There are numerous personnel changes from 2003's "Y'all Just Don't Know," but the most notable is the contribution of young alto and soprano saxophonist Loren Stillman, who is new here. Stillman, once a child prodigy, is interesting for his biggest influences; in terms of his tone and ideas, his major idols seem to be Lee Konitz and Steve Coleman (with more Konitz than Coleman, oddly enough), not exactly an easy combination to reconcile. He sounds great here, and has chances to solo on almost every track; his work on "Three Duets" is particularly cool, in spite of the fact that there are apparently no actual duets. Stillman keeps the record unpredictable, playing licks that would sound out of place on a Steve Coleman or Greg Osby record, but that somehow seem to fit fine here.

The title track of "Layers of Chance" also adds some new voices (literally) with contributions from Latanya Hall and Becca Stevens. Stevens seems poised to be the new Cassandra Wilson, with an interesting and not particularly "JAZZ" album, "Tea Bye Sea," and a (the) starring role in Travis Sullivan's Bjorkestra project. Milne has never been averse to using singers in his work, and has collaborated with folk musician Bruce Cockburn before. The most interesting contribution from a voice, however, is not melodic; John Moone, credited with "percussive poetry," does just that. As his credit would suggest, Moone acts as a percussionist, creating an added layer of rhythm to the proceedings with his poems.

The album, like anything good influenced by Steve Coleman, is incredibly funky. Tracks like "Bodybag for Martin" and "Monk Walks" would be danceable if they weren't, you know, in odd times that make them impossible to dance to. Milne, like Coleman, isn't interested in soothing purists, and so "Layers of Chance" is all over the place, and isn't "straight ahead" in any sense of the term. That said, I would recommend it to adventurous listeners.

Good Vibes

2008-08-12T23:32:00.005-04:00

As I sit here, watching the Olympic gymnastics competition, wondering how the scoring works, and what exactly differentiates one performance from another, I'm trying to think about exactly what to write about the two vibes players I've recently listened to and how to tie them in to the gymnasts. Neither Bill Ware nor Ed Saindon is elven, nor is either one female. I suppose the only thing they have in common is their ability to achieve superhuman feats; just listen to the lightning speed at which Ware and Saindon can play their instruments. While I've never seen Bill Ware live, I have had the fortune of seeing and playing with Saindon numerous times (full disclosure: I've studied with him in one of his ensembles at Berklee), and am still awestruck by the idea that any human being can have the coordination required for the four-mallet vibe technique- pioneered by Gary Burton- which he uses.

Of course the fact that I'm awestruck by his technique would be totally meaningless if his record weren't any good, but luckily it is. On "Depth of Emotion," his recent collaboration with the much more high-profile Dave Liebman, who plays soprano here, Saindon's extremely complex compositions and reharmonizations shine; in spite of their complicated chord changes and rhythmic motion, they never manage to lose accessibility. Take the versions of "Moon River" and "On Green Dolphin Street," for example. Both are reharmonized with odd chord changes, but in neither is the melody of the tune not readily apparent. Liebman's work here is pretty great, although Saindon, who barely ever records, steals the show with his brilliant vibes playing and piano. Is "Depth of Emotion" going to change the jazz world? No. But that said, it is an interesting, modern, and entirely accessible record that I'd recommend to just about anybody.

Bill Ware, who has added his gymnastic (ha!) ability to Bobby Previte's most recent incarnation of Bump, is, I suppose, the downtown vibes player now that Bobby's settled to spend most of his time playing his drum kit. Having spent time in The Jazz Passengers, recorded for the Knitting Factory label and played on records for Previte and Marc Ribot, all that Ware needs to consolidate his rep is a guest spot in John Zorn's latest Jewish Jazz ensemble (Masada Marimba?) and a record deal with Pi. "Wonder Full: The Music of Stevie Wonder," corny name aside, is probably only going to help. Odd concept? Check. Japanese bassist? Check. Lounge-y vibe? Check. The only problem is, it isn't great. The sequenced keyboards are too corny for words, and his group would work fine as a quartet without them. Ware himself sounds great, but his band just sounds too much like elevator music, albeit self-aware, ironic elevator music. There simply isn't enough variation in the tunes from Wonder's originals- or from eachother, for that matter. Worth a listen if you can get ahold of it, but not worth the search it would probably take to find it anyway.

Next time I may have a smooth jazz round-up of some sort (there are tons of high-profile smoove-cats releasing records right now- Dave Sanborn, David Benoit, that ex-football player who had cancer... the list goes on and on), but then again I may decide to review something good. I suppose we'll see.

JazzTimes has Some Weird Picks for it's Seven "New Jazz Visionaries;" First Half of Aaron Parks' "Invisible Cinema" really good

2008-08-09T22:29:00.005-04:00

This is gonna be a quick one. Just some short gripes about the most recent issue of JazzTimes, which I picked up for something to do while I'm in Canada (In case that wasn't a tell, yes, I am in Canada for the weekend), and a link to Aaron Parks' myspace.

First off, it's worth picking up the new JazzTimes just for Taylor Eigsti's "Before and After," in which he apparently has never heard of Martial Solal ("What's the story with Martial Solal? I want to hear more of that"), kinda sorta trashes Ahmad Jamal ("It's in C, which to be honest I don't think is the best key for that tune"), and says that Brad Mehldau "is probably influenced by" Brad Mehldau. It's almost as good as Andy Bey's "Blindfold Test" from a few months ago, but not quite.

Second, Christian Scott is a major new jazz visionary but not Ambrose Akinmusire? I understand the lack of inclusion of Lionel Loueke, Jason Moran (too well-known by now) and Mike Moreno (he and Aaron Parks are like two sides of the same coin, but Moreno plays guitar), but why no Ambrose? I suppose the lukewarm reviews of "Prelude: To Cora" hurt him in this respect, but Scott's "Anthem" was given much harsher press. Plus it would have been nice to see Gretchen Parlato get some love, but oh well. Next time, I suppose. Other than that it was good, with worth-reading write-ups of Esperanza Spalding and Anat Cohen.

Finally, the first half of Aaron Parks' "Invisible Cinema" is online, and it's really good. Really good. Check out the way he reconciles obvious hip-hop and indie-rock influences on tracks like "Nemesis," which features a solo from Mike Moreno that I would call, for lack of a better phrase, "hella fine."

Two of the Greatest Jazz Albums of All Time (And Possibly My Two Personal Favorites) Have Recently Been Reissued on Concord. Buy Them.

2008-08-08T22:39:00.004-04:00

No stupid wordplay or gimmickry in that title; I don't believe in being a tease when it comes to the really serious stuff. "Sunday at the Village Vanguard" and "Waltz For Debbie," the last two albums, both recorded at the Village Vanguard on the same weekend, by the greatest, most influential, most important piano trio of all time- The Bill Evans Trio featuring Paul Motian on drums and Scott LaFaro on bass- are being reissued on Concord with newly crisp sound. So if you don't own these two records already- and believe me, if you're serious about jazz, or play bass, drums or piano, and you do not you do deserve a serious scolding- now is the time to buy them.

I should be incredibly happy; this set of reissues gives me an excuse to write at length about these two albums. In all honesty, though, I barely have the motivation. What is there to say about "Waltz for Debbie" or "Sunday at the Village Vanguard?" I can't do them justice. I tried to describe "Sunday at the Village Vanguard" for my first column at the Scarsdale Inquirer; while I did manage to bang out a few words about how it manages to be accessible and avant-garde at the same time, and about the telepathy of the three musicians, I concluded at the end that the album was indescribable. That holds true here, so before my next paragraph I should add a disclaimer: everything I say from here on is bullshit. Just go out and listen to the music. You'll thank me.

Most of the people who read this will know the tragic story, but it's worth reprinting: shortly after this performance, bassist Scott LaFaro, arguably the most important bassist of his era, died in a car accident. Because of this fact, people have a tendency to add some sort of value to this album; after all, it is LaFaro's last performance. In all honesty though, it doesn't matter. LaFaro could have lived until now and he would never have played again like he does on these two albums. Unlike most other bass players, who anchor the controlled chaos going on around them, LaFaro floats above the fray, playing off of Evans' piano and Motian's haze-like cymbals, and often simply ignores the roots that any sane band-leader would expect him to play. In that sense, yes, this trio's work is "avant-garde." But that word has a certain gravity to it; "Sunday" and "Waltz" are not made up of abrasive or inaccessible music.

I understand that I often use hyperbole in this forum as a way of getting my point across. But there is no hyperbole in the statement I'm about to make: take 2 of "Alice in Wonderland," off of "Sunday at the Village Vanguard," is the single most beautiful recording I've ever heard. Evans' block chords, LaFaro's floating bass, and Motian's cymbal mist work together to create a waltz of such ethereal, aching beauty that it has to be heard to be believed. There's nothing else like it in jazz, at all, aside from perhaps its counterpart, the title track of "Waltz For Debbie," which is almost as good.

Highly highly highly highly recommended. Do yourself a favor, and listen to these albums. Even if you don't buy them, just find them somewhere and listen to them. Trick your friend into buying them and then listen to them. Do whatever you have to do, but these two are the ones to hear.

Ear Candy? Ehh...

2008-08-06T22:50:00.003-04:00

Ever wondered what an okay post-"Sidewinder" Lee Morgan record would have sounded like if the trumpet chair were filled by Miles Davis instead of Morgan himself? No? Well, in case you ever did, Roy Hargrove has tried his hardest to faithfully create that record. Roy Hargrove's new album "Earfood" isn't exactly bad, but it isn't particularly good either. He sounds exactly like Miles Davis (albeit a technically flawless, somewhat flashy Miles Davis), but his compositions are firmly grade-B Lee Morgan.

After six sorta funky straight ahead tunes, Hargrove gives us a two minute respite in the form of the ballad "Rouge," which contains barely any improvisation. This isn't a problem, though, as by then we need it. Of course, as soon as "Rouge" is over we're back in funky straight ahead territory, with another Hargrove original, "Mr. Clean." After "Mr. Clean" is, you guessed it, another funky straight ahead tune, "Style," which I suppose should be followed by "instead of substance..." In the liner notes, Hargrove talks about trying to bring pleasure to the listener, and I guess I can see how he tries to do that on "Earfood;" it isn't terrible, it's just a little bit too simple and repetitive. For an album that sets out to do this and succeeds, listen to James Carter's new "Present Tense;" while it may be a bit rougher around the edges than this one, it never fails to make me smile and shake my head when I listen to it.

It doesn't help that his sidemen, with the exception of bassist Danton Boller, who on the basis of this record is someone to watch out for, are competent as opposed to extraordinary. Pianist Gerald Clayton and saxophonist Justin Robinson are both prone to flashy, note-intensive solos and need a bit of time to grow as musicians, while drummer Montez Coleman is the opposite: he lays back too much, never giving us any real impression of who he is as a player. Not quite recommended, but not quite "bad" either, "Earfood" is one of those records that suggests that perhaps something good could come from its sidemen in the future, and that its leader has made and will go on to make better records.

I have no idea what I'll have here next time, but for those of you in Scarsdale, look out for the new Inquirer because I'm pretty sure they'll be running my write-up of the Caramoor Jazz Festival.

Caramoor Day Three: Michel Camilo!

2008-08-04T20:36:00.003-04:00

No pun necessary, just an exclamation point. Everything about Michel Camilo deserves an exclamation point, from his style of dress (a ridiculous purple silk shirt worthy of Liberace) to his tendency to shout out the names of his band members in-between every single song he plays. I want to hate Michel Camilo so badly; he plays too many notes, he's a blatant show-off, he doesn't even pretend he's anything other than a total populist. I can't do it though, he's just too good. He really was the only person who could follow up Jimmy Heath's life-affirming big band set. No one else in jazz (aside from perhaps Eldar) has Camilo's energy, technique, or showmanship.

He opened with a rendition of his calling card original "From Within" that made the Calle 54 version look like it was being played by a trio of amateurs. Of course it didn't hurt that his trio was filled out by two absurdly talented young Cuban musicians, bassist Charles Flores and drummer Dafnis Prieto. Before I go any further, I would like to just etch my awe at Prieto in print for posterity- he's that good. At around five feet tall he is, to paraphrase Lady Sovereign, "the biggest midget in the game," but his tone is so good, and his technique so absurdly strong, that it doesn't matter. In "From Within," he played a two minute drum solo and managed to get the crowd to start shouting for more. He's that good. Flores is also pretty great; you would have to be anchor a trio with these kinds of chops.

But Camilo was the reason everyone was there, and he delivered. Man, did he deliver. Just in case no one had realized throughout his set that Camilo was a technically capable improviser and instrumentalist, he closed with his rendition of "Giant Steps," possibly the single fastest thing I've ever heard. When I found out I'd be seeing Michel Camilo at Caramoor, I was expecting a painfully distasteful, hellishly flashy show that I would hate with enough passion to write a funny pan about here, and what I got was a painfully distasteful, hellishly flashy show that I loved and would go to again.

Next time I'll have a long overdue review of "Earfood," Roy Hargrove's latest.

Caramoor Day Three: Heath Bar CRUNCH

2008-08-04T20:18:00.004-04:00

Don't you wish Jimmy Heath wrote tunes and named them with stupid puns on his name like Lee Konitz does ("Subconscious-Lee," "Ice Cream Konitz")? It's just me? Well, alright. Either way, it makes a great title for PART TWO of my Day 3 coverage of Caramoor's annual jazz extravaganza. Jimmy Heath, the 82 year old saxophone wunderkind, took the stage about ten minutes after Aaron "cutie-pie" Diehl finished his set of precocious neo-stride piano. Heath, who played with Charlie Parker, was introduced as having played with all the greats, including, according to Jim Luce, Wynton Marsalis. I could go on for hours about how ridiculous it is to introduce Jimmy Heath as a guy who played with Wynton Marsalis as opposed to vice versa, but I'll spare you.
Heath, like Ahmad Jamal, the other eightyish monster at Caramoor this year, killed it. Diehl must have been going crazy about being stuck going before Jimmy, because Jimmy pulled- as I would like to call any sort of cutting by the Heath brothers, whether Jimmy, bassist Percy, or drummer Tootie- the HEATH BAR CRUNCH (I'll bet you didn't think I would tie the title in). The Heath Bar Crunch consisted of a quick one-two punch of relatively new tunes by Heath- an up tune, "For Percy," and then "Project S" ("'S' stands for swing, of course," said Jimmy), which featured a killin' solo by the octogenarian himself- and it was over. Nobody but some sort of ridiculously technically capable audience favorite youngster like Eldar (or, say, Michel Camilo) could possibly follow up Jimmy Heath.

And I didn't even mention Jimmy Heath's big band, which included Gary Smulyan. Yeah, you heard right, the Downbeat Critics Poll 2008 baritone saxophone player of the year was playing in Jimmy Heath's big band at Caramoor. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Heath's arrangements were killin', but still. What a bad-ass. In the middle of Smulyan's solo in "Sources Say," which as far as I could tell from Heath's description is some sort of searing indictment of George Bush's work as president, Heath started dancing. It was embarrassing, of course- 82 year old men shouldn't dance, EVER- but it was kind of fun to watch. Heath ended with an up-tempo rendition of his classic "Gingerbread Boy," which was made famous by Miles in the 60s. The audience at Caramoor gives everyone a standing ovation, but Heath deserved it.

Caramoor Day Three: Diehl or no Diehl

2008-08-04T19:59:00.005-04:00

Alright, so here goes the first edition of "Stupid Caramoor Jazz Festival Puns;" Aaron Diehl, who has become known to some extent (I had never heard of him before the performance) for playing with Wynton Marsalis, played the first set at Caramoor on Sunday, and in all honesty I have no idea how I feel about it. Like Marsalis, he (literally) didn't play covers of any songs written after 1920, but there was something admittedly kind of cool about how obscure it all was. I mean, seriously, who covers Lucky Roberts any more? Who these days has even heard of Lucky Roberts?

That said, however, as much as Diehl's old-school noodlings appealed to the nerd in me, even I had to chuckle a little bit when Jim Luce, the festival's producer, declared Diehl the "face of the next generation of the jazz piano." I mean seriously, more like "Art Tatum, the new face of the next generation of the jazz piano." Clearly Diehl needs some time to develop a style of his own that didn't exist eighty years ago. Granted, he played two originals, and while one ("Waltz for Nat") could have been written by Gershwin (or at least someone in the twenties trying to capitalize on Gershwin's success), the other actually sounded kind of modern.

So Diehl won me over, mostly because of how adorable he is. He looks and talks like your very smart twelve year old cousin showing off how smart he is to the adults; maybe in a few years, when he's a bit older, I'll be able to give him a somewhat-negative review (ahem*Taylor Eigsty*ahem) as opposed to a lukewarm one. For now, he may not be a Jason Moran or a Robert Glasper, but he's alright by me.

Caramoor Day Two: Wynton Bores Man to the Point of Medical Emergency

2008-08-03T13:30:00.005-04:00

That title is serious. There's nothing funny about what happened a few seats away from me at Caramoor last night; a man had some sort of serious medical emergency and fainted, prompting the on-site medical personnel to rush him to a hospital. "Do we need to call a doctor," asked Wynton from the stage. People laughed. "Nah, I'm serious," he drawled. People laughed again. Didn't they understand when they bought tickets to a Wynton Marsalis show that they were going to be plagued by their consciences because of this kind of horrific occurrence? Wynton kills! He brushed it off: "whatever it is, sir, the music will make you feel better." Surprise! It didn't.

The tell-tale signs were there from the beginning of the show; as Luce introduced Marsalis, the clouds that had cleared up during the Cuban Piano Summit earlier had come back with a vengeance and began to thunder. Marsalis introduced the first four tunes in his set, called "Uptown Rider," "Down Home With Homey," "The Death of Jazz" and "Oh, But on the Third Day." While I could go on for hours about the implication on Wynton's psyche of naming two tunes "The Death of Jazz" and "Oh, But on the Third Day," I'll let you put that one together. Suffice to say, if they made a remake of "The Ruling Class" set in New Orleans, Wynton's acting skill could be called upon. The tunes were a bunch of boring updates of New Orleans style jazz, but with crazy twists; "Uptown Ruler" was in 5/4 (gasp), and "Down Home With Homey" was, according to Wynton, a 12 tone composition, although after having heard it I don't believe it.

"The Death of Jazz" was just that; it sounded like it was recorded in 1923, although it did contain some pretty great clarinet playing from Victor Goines, who looked alarmingly like either an accountant or a high school English teacher. "Oh But on the Third Day" opened with Herlin Riley, finally realizing that his drum set had a cymbal, playing some good stuff, but dissolved into another New Orleans romp. In the middle of the "Third Day," the man in the row across from mine had the medical emergency, which wound up being considerably more interesting than Wynton's predictable read through "Embraceable You." After that, I left.

Later on, while watching a scene from Bertolucci's "The Last Emperor" set in the 1920s, my non-jazz inclined companion commented that the music they were playing in the background sounded exactly like Wynton. "Why do you dislike him so much," she asked. "That's why," I said.

In ten minutes I'm off to see Day Three of the Caramoor Jazz Festival, which includes pianist Aaron Diehl, who I have never heard of, Jimmy Heath's big band, and Michel Camilo's trio with Dafnis Prieto on drums.

Caramoor Day Two: Piano Wars '08!

2008-08-03T13:10:00.003-04:00

Alright, so I've got about an hour to write about Caramoor Day 2 before I have to run back to Katonah, and so I think I have just enough time to devote two separate entries to the events. The next one is going to be about Wynton and his circus of New Orleans style madness, so that must mean that this one is devoted to the "Cuban Piano Summit" of Elio Villafranca and Chuchito Valdez and Mulgrew Miller's Wingspan.

As expected, the Cuban piano battle was the best event of the day, even though it wasn't quite what I had expected. Advertised as just that, a death match for the claim to title of God of Los Pianos Cubanos, the event was more like two guys playing separately. At least in the beginning. I was more than a little bit disappointed when Elio Villafranca came out and played "El Manicero" solo, thinking "hey, this isn't what I got free press tickets for, where's Chuchito? These guys should be killing eachother!" Of course, that was just the beginning, and Chuchito came out after Elio had finished his set of three tunes. Chuchito came out wearing a massive piece of bling; some kind of god chain the likes of which I haven't seen anywhere but in rap videos. He played his own set of solo tunes, the highlight of which was a gorgeous version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," and then Elio came back out and the death match began.

It all started out pretty simply; they played a pretty Cuban head and then started trading some tasteful fours. Elio tried to keep it tasteful, you know: some nice bop licks, a relatively simple polyrhythm. But then Chuchito went nuts, jumped up and down and played some incredibly fast, complicated stuff. Elio couldn't keep it tasteful; he went for the balls and matched Chuchito's complex work and made it even more complicated. It was on. Chuchito played the lowest notes on his piano. Elio played the highest. Chuchito banged the keys. Elio banged back. After about ten minutes they finished the tune and walked off stage, at which point Caramoor jazz fest producer Jim Luce called on them for a rematch-encore which neither of them could resist. The rematch consisted of another Cuban tune that eventually devolved into a twelve bar be-bop style blues and a disturbing amount of quoting from both; they quoted everything from "Rhapsody in Blue" to "Straight No Chaser." Afterwards, when I ran into him, Villafranco said the whole thing was unrehearsed. "I kept on calling him asking him what we'd do," he said, "and he just said, 'ehhh we'll figure it out'." Was it a total pissing contest? No question. Was it awesome? Hell yeah.

As for Mulgrew Miller's Wingspan, my non-jazz inclined companion said that a lot of the show was "boring," but that Miller's solo piano version of "It Never Entered My Mind" was "pretty." I think I'm inclined to agree with her. But Steve Nelson killed it. Absolutely nailed the show. He may not do the four-mallet thing, but he's still quite possibly the most technically capable vibes player in jazz.

Caramoor Day One: Ahmad Jamal

2008-08-01T22:58:00.003-04:00

I would like to apologize for the ridiculous lateness of this post, and for the fact that this (and the next few about Caramoor) is going to be (more or less) the ramblings of a half-asleep, drooling maniac as opposed to the work of the regular, wide awake Callum MacKenzie/ Jazzmonster that you've all come to know and love. I have been attending the festival on assignment for the Scarsdale Inquirer, and tonight at Caramoor- a beautiful venue, by the way- I saw Ahmad Jamal, who was brilliant tonight in ways I was not expecting.

In all honesty, Jamal, who is now seventy eight years old, sounds like he's twenty eight. I'm serious. I have it in my notes: "Reminds me of Jason Moran..." And he did. The way he played in concert- I can't speak for the way he plays on his new record, "It's Magic-" was reminiscent of Moran's choppy stylings down to the way tunes like "Insertia" and "Gyroscope" rambled through different themes only to wind up in some kind of funky, bass-heavy jam. Even "Poinciana," that (admittedly beautiful) staple of easy listening jazz, sounded full of energy. Jamal almost apologized for playing the tune: "You've probably heard this many times, and you're going to hear it again," Jamal said before jumping into a half-crazed, swinging version. A half-crazed version of "Poinciana!" Who knew?

The most fun part of seeing Jamal, however, was seeing his percussionist Manolo Badrena in action. The man is a force of nature, all swinging arms and hilarious expressions. Of his many random toys, the two that I liked the most were a makeshift pipe which he has created from a pipe used in his car (I'm serious), and a gigantic circular drum from Iran that as far as I could tell is called a "Daff," or "Doff," or "Daugh." All I can say is, it sounds like "cough," but with a "d."

Having gone in expecting to hear Jamal play good but old-fashioned bop variations of standards- what I'm used to hearing him play- I was more than a little bit blind-sided by howmodern the whole concert was. But I was blind-sided in a good way.

Tomorrow I'll be seeing the dueling Cuban pianos of Elio Villafranco and Chuchito Valdes and some random variation of Mulgrew Miller's longstanding Wingspan group. Oh yeah, and I'll be seeing the Wynton Marsalis Carnival of Horrors- er, septet, who I desperately hope will be playing tunes from his upcoming record, "He and She," a song cycle about how when a man loves a woman very much and they both- aw, well, you'll figure it out yourself. Did I mention it's based on a poem by Wynton? So psyched. Hopefully I'll post on all of this madness tomorrow, but if not I will on Sunday.

A Work of Art Worthy of Parker or Coltrane

2008-07-28T12:33:00.003-04:00

While I figured I could open this by saying something snarky- "How many stupid puns can someone come up with out of Art Pepper's name," for example- I realized after hearing "Unreleased Art Vol. 3" that it was a moot point. Critics are having a field day with this one, and while I don't think I've seen anything as ridiculous as mine, I also don't think that most critics have the same adoration of Art Pepper that I do. Art Pepper, like Lee Konitz, is one of an extremely small handful of musicians who constantly changed his sound throughout his career in search of something new. Pepper's substance abuse problems are well documented all over the place, so I won't delve deeply but to say that at the time that "Unreleased Art Vol. 3" was recorded, Pepper had already spent years in prison, kicked his heroin habit, and replaced it with a massive cocaine habit. Pepper died only a year after this recording, which unquestionably adds some gravity to the proceedings.

That said "Unreleased Art Vol. 3," released on Laurie Pepper's Widow's Taste label, is one of the great recently released concert recordings, up there with "Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall" and the recent reissues of early 60s Mingus concerts. Pepper calls pianist Milcho Leviev, bassist Bob Magnussen and drummer Carl Burnett his best rhythm section ever, and after hearing "Unreleased Art Vol. 3" I can't disagree; keep in mind, Pepper played with Philly Jo, Red and Paul on at least one extremely well-known occasion. All three have brilliant moments throughout the record, but their work on "Ophelia" is particularly stunning. Constantly building tension by starting off slow and moving into more and more complicated ideas both harmonically and rhythmically, Leviev plays a stunning solo. Magnussen also builds his solo, and by the end shows off his own blistering technique. Burnett keeps the whole thing anchored with flare throughout, and at the end shows off his own ability.

The rhythm section is at its best when supporting Pepper, however. Pepper is brilliant here, as he is on virtually every recording of his entire career. The opposite of his incredibly erratic life, Pepper's discography is incredibly consistent. That said, though, there are two recordings that stand out as his undisputed classics: "Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section," the famous recording with Philly Joe, Red and Paul, and the "Village Vanguard" recordings of the late seventies. Of these two, "Unreleased Art Vol. 3" most resembles the "Village Vanguard" recordings, but without some of the rough edges. While "Village Vanguard" sounded like one man wrestling with his demons over a backdrop of some reliable standards, "Unreleased Art" sounds more like a man attempting to play everything that he has left. Pepper tears up a break-neck "Cherokee" as if it's his last, and "Goodbye" sounds as serious as its title. The rough edges can still be heard in glimpses, as Pepper screeches on "Ophelia," using extended techniques to imbue a certain urgency, but for the most part what's here is powerful straight-ahead jazz.

Unlike the other two editions of the "Unreleased Art" series, taken from Laurie Pepper's personal collection, the sound quality on "Unreleased Art Vol. 3" is impeccable. Every note from every member of the band is audible, and Magnussen's bass- an instrument generally hard to hear in live recordings- sparkles. Highly recommended.

Don't ask what I'll have next time- I'm living on the edge. That said, I do know what I'll have here the time after next: this weekend I'll be covering the Caramoor jazz festival in Katonah (Ahmad Jamal, Jimmy Heath's big band, Wynton Marsalis, Mulgrew Miller, and Michel Camillo will all be performing at various points) for the Scarsdale Inquirer, and I'll try and have reviews of all of those shows.

Bill Stewart's New Album Close But Not Quite Incandescent

2008-07-26T15:09:00.002-04:00

It goes without saying that whenever you have musicians of the level of Bill Stewart, Larry Goldings, and Kevin Hayes, the music will be of a certain level. Stewart is famous for his work with John Scofield; Goldings for his work as a solo artist and as Hans Groiner. Kevin Hayes, whose work I do not know as well as the work of the other two, is probably my favorite player of the three; his piano playing on "Tell a Televangelist" in particular is full of great ideas, if not ingenious. That said though, there's something missing from "Incandescence," the new album from Bill Stewart as a leader.

The thing that's missing isn't a bass, although there isn't one; the instrumentation on this record is piano, organ, drums. Chris Potter established with "Underground" that is possible to make a modern sounding, electric jazz album without a bass player, and there have been great bass-less saxophone-trio records since Lester Young's group in the thirties. What's missing, rather, is a lot more esoteric, and I can't quite put my finger on it. "Incandescence" is fun, and the playing is good, but with the exception of a couple of tracks it is unmemorable. The tracks, for the most part, bleed together; all are soul-tinged modern jazz compositions with occasional out sections.

That said, the idea of a bass-less trio consisting of a drummer and two keyboardists is interesting, and when it works the band sounds great. "Portals Opening" is a lot like Miles Davis' immortal "Nefertiti;" the drummer plays some incredibly hands-on, rhythmically out stuff while the rest of the band plays a melody (or groove, in this case). Goldings and Hays play with the repeated motif they've been given, of course, and there is more variation in the track than just percussion, but Stewart steals the show on this particular song, working out some complex polyrhythms over the keyboardists' relatively simple pattern. On the aforementioned "Tell a Televangelist," both Hays and Goldings have some interesting things to play, and the groove is insistent enough to be memorable. Not a great record, but not a bad one either, "Incandescence" is worth listening to once; the idea behind it is extremely interesting, and when it works, it works.

Next time I think I'll have a review of Art Pepper's "Unreleased Art, Volume 3," a posthumous release of a concert recorded in 1981.

Thunder!

2008-07-23T23:35:00.005-04:00

Why? Why do we need a three way "Thunder" tour from Victor Wooten, Marcus Miller and Stanley Clarke (even if you never hit another link on this blog, hit this one)? Why do they think that the world needs a tour from Victor Wooten, Marcus Miller and Stanley Clarke? Why does it have to be called "THUNDER!"?

As much as I would like to say that I would expect this from Victor and Marcus- this is exactly the sort of stuff that they would attach their names to- but not from Stanley Clarke, he was pretty much dead to me in terms of integrity after he agreed to do a cash-grab reunion tour with Return to Forever (just in case you haven't read or seen any kind of jazz news recently: yes, Return to Forever is reuniting for a tour).

Come on guys, there's a reason Steve Swallow won the Critics Poll: it's because he has too much self-worth for a (oxymoronic) wank-y menage a trois of slapping and popping...

Buddy DeFranco: 85 and Swingin'

2008-07-22T23:36:00.004-04:00

In keeping with Marian McPartland's poignant and adventurous 90th birthday celebration, "Twilight World," clarinetist Buddy DeFranco's recent album "Charlie Cat II" contains a few surprises. Unlike McPartland on "Twilight World," however, DeFranco barely moves out of his bop-era comfort zone, but that's okay; still at the top of his game at 85 years old, Buddy DeFranco breezes through this set of standards and reminds us that not only is he still around, but he's still a force of nature. Granted, this music could have been made in 1950 and it wouldn't sound any different. But honestly, with a musician of DeFranco's caliber, who cares?

It helps that he has a horde of completely indispensable sidemen, with trumpet veteran Lew Soloff, young guitar gun Joe Cohn and subtle bassist Rufus Reid making up the back-bone of his band's most recent incarnation. Cohn plays burning solos every time he touches his guitar, but of particular note is his turn on Clifford Brown's "Joy Spring," a simple, old-school cool bop solo reminiscent of Lennie Tristano's old cohort Billy Bauer. Soloff, who has worked for everyone from Joe Henderson to Blood, Sweat and Tears, also works up a sweat on every number, hitting high notes like an old Jazz at the Philharmonic screamer while managing to sound beautiful and melodic at the same time. Reid, drummer Ed Metz Jr and pianist Derek Smith have the most thankless job of anyone in the band- playing in the rhythm section- but they do it so brilliantly that when they aren't soloing you barely notice them. With the exception of a few moments of brilliant comping and interplay with the various soloists, the three of them are a well-oiled machine; the beat never moves, but somehow in spite of that they manage to keep it interesting.

And, of course, I haven't even gotten to Buddy DeFranco himself yet. At 85 years old, the clarinet player (who, in spite of his elder statesman status, barely even cracked the top 5 in this year's Downbeat Critics Poll) sounds as good as ever. He burns through up-tempo runs through "What Is This Thing Called Love" and "Joy Spring," and kills an absurdly fast take on the Charlie Parker stalwart "Anthropology," but the best stuff here are his ballads. "Once More With Feeling" shows DeFranco's indefatigable tender side, and doesn't have a single bad note. Recommended for those who play the clarinet or love bop music.

Next time I think I'll have a review of Bill Stewart's "Incandescence," but don't hold me to that. Also, on a random side-rant, why on earth are Return to Forever on the front page of BOTH JazzTimes and Downbeat this month? Are they worth this much attention? Can't they give a cover to Esperanza Spalding or Jenny Scheinman or Bill Frisell or someone else who's actually, you know, done something this year?

Radical Klezmer: New CDs from Paul Shapiro and Klez-Edge

2008-07-21T16:42:00.004-04:00

I can understand how to many of you the title of this post, "Radical Klezmer," could sound like some kind of sarcastic joke. It isn't. Based on two new releases from John Zorn's Tzadik imprint, klezmer is not only alive and kicking, but undergoing a sort of creative resurgence not seen since Don Byron unearthed the music of Mickey Katz almost twenty years ago. Of the two CDs out this month, Paul Shapiro's "Essen" is more fun, while Klez-Edge's "Ancestors, Mindreles, Nagila Monsters" is more experimental and contains more variation. This is to be expected, of course, as Klez-Edge's leader, Burton Greene, was a figure in the early 60s New York free jazz scene, and recorded for ESP; others spotted on that label at the time included Albert Ayler and Marion Brown. His new project, like Shapiro's "Ribs and Brisket Revue," is not interested in creating free jazz so much as applying some of the concepts of free jazz to Klezmer music.

"Ancestors, Mindreles, Nagila Monsters" is successful because of it's variation. In addition to up-tempo numbers like the opener "Mindrele," there are slow tunes such as "Ancestral Folk Song." Greene, the band's leader and pianist, is an extremely capable composer of both classical and jazz music, and as such, his compositions never sound as if they've gone completely off the rails; that said, however, he has done an extremely good job of taking a free-jazz aesthetic and applying it to Klezmer. Take the extended, blues-soaked beginning of "Moldavian Blues," which contains some great free blowing from singer Marek Balata, clarinetist Perry Robinson and tuba player Larry Fishkind. In a later section, the tune takes on an air of controlled chaos, and the three improvise on an extended melodic line New Orleans-style. Klez-Edge is no Masada- don't get me wrong. Klez Edge is as different from Masada as Greene's other work is from John Zorn's; and any comparison of a group that makes free-Jewish-jazz to Zorn's Masada is bound to come up unfavorable, no matter how good it is. But in spite of that, this is recommended.

Paul Shapiro's new "Essen," with his Ribs and Brisket Revue, does not strive for anything as interesting as Klez Edge's "Ancestors, Mindreles, Nagila Monsters," but that doesn't take away from its inherent fun. A series of (mostly) covers of old Jewish novelty tunes, many of which are about food (titles include "Matzoh Balls" and "Dunkin' Bagel"), "Essen" is clearly light fare. The opener and title track, about a man who desperately wants to sit around and eat, is all over the place; depending on the section, the song is either full-on klezmer, reggae, or some kind of genre that I can only describe as "School-House Rock." The album's other major highlight is "Dunkin' Bagel," which gives Shapiro to show off his formidable talent on the tenor saxophone. The album's major flaw, as you would probably expect, is that you can only listen to so many old Jewish novelty songs about food, and eventually they all begin to sound the same. The choruses of half of the songs involve Matzoh Balls, and a little bit of lyrical variation (or a little bit more of Shapiro's or guest trumpet Steven Bernstein's playing) would have made the album considerably better. That said, it's fun.

Next time you can expect a review of something or other, I promise it will be good. I'm sorry for the long wait between posts, but I am now writing a column for the Scarsdale Inquirer and happened to be in DC over the weekend. That said, though, you can expect a new review sometime in the next few days.

Critics Poll 2008: Tally and Grievances!

2008-07-16T17:06:00.004-04:00

There were some major upsets in this year's Critics Poll; upsets that nobody could have seen coming in a billion years. Upsets so insane, so absolutely inconcievable (Bela Fleck beating Toots Thielemans for Miscellaneous Instrument?!), that not even I had the faintest idea that they could even occur.

Alright, so I didn't get everything right. By any stretch. But I did get enough right that this blog should from now on be your guide to the annual Downbeat Critics Poll. Here's the final tally:

Will Win: 27/50
Should Win: 19/50

So out of the fifty categories, I got 27 absolutely right, although I suppose it was more like 28 with an asterisk (*while I didn't actually say that Esperanza Spalding would win Rising Star Bass, you read a prediction of her meteoric rise right here at the jazz monster). The more fun part is pointing out the major upsets anyway. First off, the pleasant surprises: Cassandra Wilson won the female vocal poll! There could be hope for jazz after all if she dethroned Dianne Reeves. Also, props to Josh Roseman, my pick for the should-be-winner of the Poll who actually won in spite of the fact that I was too lazy to actually pick him as the actual winner. Also, Eric Harland deserves anything he gets, and I'm not surprised at his win even though I called it for Matt Wilson.

And that's about it for the pleasant surprises. Come on! Vijay Iyer won nothing this year, in spite of his releasing the both the brilliant "Tragicomic," the game-changing "Still Life With Commentator" and the absolutely killin' "Door" over the course of the year. That said, though, John Hollenbeck deserved his wins even though I wouldn't have predicted them. As for guitar, Pat Metheny somehow managed to weasel his way into the number one spot over the better choice, Bill Frisell. The biggest upset, however, was the aforementioned win by Bela Fleck over Toots Thielemans for Miscellaneous Instrument by an absurdly wide margin (128 to Toots' 97). This is the first time in something like 20 years that Thielemans hasn't won. Uh, what?

There is only one decision that actually has me seething though, and I mean it from the absolute bottom of my heart when I say that Miguel Zenon does not deserve to be on the "Rising Star Alto" list, let alone that he deserves to beat out all three of my picks for the category. Come on, do downbeat critics actually think that Miguel Zenon is a better or more interesting player than Steve Lehman? Than Rudresh Mahanthappa? Give me a break. Miguel Zenon's playing is reminiscent of Ynwie Malmstein as covered by David Sanborn at his most melodramatic.

That's it for this year's Critics Poll; I didn't do that badly. Congratulations to (most of) the winners. Next time I'll have a review of "Essen," the killer new album by Paul Shapiro, who has not and probably will not make the Downbeat Critics Poll tenor saxophone list, ever.

PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY

2008-07-14T17:17:00.004-04:00

And so goes the refrain of the title track to Marc Ribot's new "Party Intellectuals;" imagine Fred Schneider of the B-52s fronting The Nels Cline Singers, and you begin to get it. The rest is just as out-there ("When We Were Young and We Were Freaks" is early Sonic Youth with an 80s era Bill Frisell playing shards of guitar noise; "Girlfriend" is the greatest nineties middle-eastern flavored garage-rock track ever recorded ), but while no two tracks are quite alike, there is no question that everything is being played by Marc Ribot and his cohorts in Ceramic Dog, Shahzad Ismaily (bass, electronics) and Ches Smith (drums, electronics). If Nels Cline's "Draw Breath" was a manifesto last year that free jazz should be about rocking out, Marc Ribot has given the first shot back: "Party Intellectuals" is an incredibly loud rock record by a downtown jazz musician, and one of the best albums of the year so far.

There are occasional counter-examples; "Todo El Mundo Es Kitsch" isn't loud, and "For Malena," a Spanish tinged folk rock tune about a man making money for his daughter, is more Tom Waits than it is Dinosaur Jr. That said, however, the former is a joke. "Todo El Mundo Es Kitsch-" literally, "The Whole World is Kitsch-" follows through on its title, offering up a world-funk elevator groove along with incessant throw-away lines about doing kitschy things around the world ("In Paris, we sipped a coffee in a cafe," "In Monaco, we struck it rich") and insistent "la la la"s. The track that immediately follows, the aforementioned "When We Were Young and We Were Freaks," is the opposite: an avant-garde freak-out featuring Ribot's dark, half sung, half spoken vocals and skronky guitar-work.

Even the free noise tracks are worth listening to; both "Digital Handshake" and "Midost" have grooves to them, and while eventually they fly the rails, when they do it seems like a logical extension of the improvisation that has already occurred. "Party Intellectuals" is not a jazz album by any measure, nor is it really a fusion record, nor even an avant-garde free-rock fest like "Draw Breath" or the Free Form Funky Freqs' "Urban Mythology Vol. 1," but an entirely different beast. Clearly "Party Intellectuals" is not an album for everyone (purists need not apply, nor those with sensitive ears), but for those with an inclination to explore, "Party Intellectuals" is a true one of a kind. There is nothing quite like it, and while it doesn't exactly fit Marc Ribot's recent jazz direction ("Saints," "Spiritual Unity"), it happens to be brilliant anyway. Highly Recommended.

Next time I'll have the first annual Downbeat Critics Poll: Tally and Grievances! So get excited, it promises to be a classic. I heard from a source close to me that I didn't do so well, but we will see as soon as I can get my hands on the most recent copy. Also, voting is now open for the Downbeat Readers Poll, so if you click on the link you can vote, preferably for people who aren't supplied to you by Downbeat (The Jazz Monster voted for Chris Dingman on vibes and Nels Cline on guitar, for example). Check back next time!

Two Men Who Don't Realize They Are Past The Days of Artistic Relevance

2008-07-12T12:44:00.005-04:00

"Two Men with the Blues" is something like the "Gigli" of the jazz world; an album plagued by high profile stars, a terrible concept, and terribly bad execution. An album, in spite of it's objective awfulness, that critics around the country are spewing accolades on out of fear of hell reigning down on them from Lincoln Center, or at least of losing their drug connection in Willie's van. An album on which Willie Nelson's elderly, tone-deaf singing is matched in mediocrity only by Wynton's penchant for playing all of the same licks he played on his last album, "Live at the House of Tribes," which was actually quite good.

That's the biggest problem with this album; we've heard it all before, and we've heard it done better. Willie Nelson plays "Georgia on My Mind," and while it sounds as weary and whiskey-soaked as you would expect after his recent kerfuffle with the law, authenticity is no replacement for the ability to hold a tune. For some reason Nelson has been billed as playing "Django-styled guitar" on "Two Men with the Blues," but his playing reminds me more of a somewhat talented 9th grade blues guitar player attempting real changes for the first time.

Wynton's "Live at the House of Tribes" from a few years ago was his most life-affirming release since the eighties, and is probably one of the best jazz albums of the decade; while it wasn't innovative by any stretch, his playing on that recording managed to prove he was still a force to be reckoned with in the current landscape of young people. Now, with "Two Men With the Blues," Wynton has come to the forgone conclusion that the only way to keep his reputation is to play exactly what he played on "House of Tribes." With the exception of "Ain't Nobody's Business," in which Wynton proves he can sing better than an ancient Willie Nelson (which is not saying much), every song is a jump blues that features a trumpet solo from Marsalis in which he plays a few hard-bop licks, a series of tremolos from piano player Dan Nimmer, and an old-school tenor solo tempered with a few modern thoughts by Walter Blanding. Highly recommended for people who enjoy paying 18 dollars to hear the same terrible song played 10 times.

Next time I'll have a review of Marc Ribot's brilliant new "Party Intellectuals," which has quickly entered my mental list of the year's best along with Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic," Bill Frisell's "History, Mystery," "Esperanza" and Jenny Scheinman's two new albums. I know I've been promising it for a while, but I'm finally ready to actually write about it.

Flute Madness

2008-07-09T00:00:00.003-04:00

A week or so ago I named Anat Cohen as my personal pick for the should-be winner of the Downbeat Critics' Poll rising star composer category; after having heard "Black Unstoppable" and "Xenogenesis Suite," Nicole Mitchell's two most recent albums, I've changed my mind. Like Vijay Iyer, the perennial winner, Mitchell's compositions grapple with the idea of total freedom versus through-composed standard fare, and come out somewhere between the two. Mitchell is often confused for a full-on free jazz musician, and after hearing her odd sounds on "Xenogenesis Suite" I can understand this impulse. That said, however, for every freak-out on either album, there is another tune that approaches funk, or falls somewhere completely uncharted in the jazz world.

"Black Unstoppable," the more straight-ahead of Mitchell's two most recent albums, still finds ample time to devote to her crazier side. The title track, "Black Unstoppable," is also the most out there, containing some odd extended technique-work from Mitchell herself. The best tracks, however, are the ones in which guitar-player Jeff Parker gets to show off. Luckily, however, that describes about half of the album. Parker is turning into something of a Chicago Nels Cline (or perhaps Nels Cline is a west-coast Jeff Parker), playing as a sideman on a random smattering of brilliant free jazz coming out of Chicago (Matana Roberts' "The Chicago Project," for example) and working with a rock band (the great instrumental post-rock group Tortoise). Of course the biggest star on the album is Mitchell's compositional ability; moving from the up-tempo funk opener "Cause and Effect" to vocal blues work-outs like "Love Has No Boundaries" and "Thanking the Universe" to crazy jams like "Navigator." Highly recommended for those who want to get into Mitchell's music.

"Xenogenesis Suite," although more than a little bit avant garde, will serve as a treat for anyone who loves free jazz or Mitchell's body of work. Based on a novel by science fiction author Octavia Butler, the suite sounds almost totally free upon first listen. After a few listens, however, it becomes apparent that Mitchell not only knows what she is doing, but is just as interested in creating a work that stands up track-by-track as she is in creating free music. While there are clearly sections that employ group improvisation as a device, these sections are clearly cued in some sense; even the clearly composed movements- "Before and After" and "Dawn of a New Life-" have a sense of free abandon to them. Recommended for those who love free jazz or Nicole Mitchell, or both.

I would like to apologize for the consistent lateness of this blog (I used to try and write every two days, now it's turning into more like every three or so); I recently started writing a column for the Scarsdale Inquirer and for the past day I've been swamped (I was planning on writing this yesterday but was hit with a deadline). In all honesty, I'm living day to day and have no idea what my next post will be about... maybe Marc Ribot and Ceramic Dog? Perhaps "What To Do Past the Days of Artistic Relevance," the new album from Wynton N' Willie? I have no idea. Check back in 2-3 days.

Leftovers: Contemporary Reissue Edition

2008-07-05T11:29:00.003-04:00

When I say "contemporary," I'm neither talking about the jazz record label, Contemporary, nor making a sarcastic reference to the fact that nothing truly contemporary could be reissued; both of the reissues that I'm going to review hear were initially released in roughly the last ten years, so they can tell us a lot about the contemporary jazz scene. Avishai Cohen, the bass player, is sort of like the John the Baptist to Anat Cohen's (no relation) Christ figure in the Israeli jazz scene. After playing with Chick Corea for a while, Avishai Cohen struck out on his own with a record, "Adama," that lightly fused middle-eastern musical ideas with jazz. Granted, it was nothing nearly as bombastic as what John Zorn had been doing with Masada for years already, but the fact that it was a real, live Israeli who had played with Chick Corea who was doing it meant something. The other reissue, Mark Feldman's "Music For Violin Alone," has nothing in common with Cohen's straight-ahead Israeli music. In spite of Feldman's credentials as a founding member of John Zorn's Masada String Trio, "Music For Violin Alone" has most in common with 20th century avant garde music for violin.

"Adama," Avishai Cohen's first album and the harbinger of Israeli dominance in the jazz world in recent years, has worn extremely well. Yes, in recent years people have found newer and arguably more innovative ways of working middle eastern influence into jazz. Yes, Omer Avital is now the go-to bass player for all of the Israelis in New York. No, none of the other players on "Adama" are major players in the Israeli jazz scene in Brooklyn. Who cares? With Steve Wilson on soprano, Jeff Ballard on drums, and either Brad Mehldau or Chick Corea on piano, there is no possible way to go wrong, and everybody plays up to their talent. Cohen himself shines on the funky "Bass Suite #s 1 & 2." Sparks also fly on "Gadu," in which Mehldau and Corea are given a chance to trade off, with Corea on electric keyboards and Mehldau on piano. Recommended.

Mark Feldman's "Music For Violin Alone" is easily one of the most jarring recordings I've heard recently. Falling somewhere between Jenny Scheinman's most avant garde early work and the experimental classical music of composers like George Crumb, Feldman does his best to create music that cannot be ignored. Feldman has played on hundreds of recordings a studio musician, for artists as varied as Zorn and Johnny Cash, but this music is a far cry from virtually anything else he's done as a sideman. Front and center, Feldman's music runs a gamut from the screaming, abrasive noise of "Etude" to the angry motivic rhythms of "Jete" to the pensive, quiet, middle-eastern flavored "Calista-" and that's only over the course of three tracks. "Music For Violin Alone" manages to be all over the place musically while being unmistakable as a work by Feldman. I add this caveat to my reviews of a lot of albums, but "Music For Violin Alone" is not for everyone. It's a far cry from straight ahead jazz, and for some people parts of it could sound like a guy trying to make weird noises with his violin. But, that said, this album is recommended for those with open ears.

Next time I'll have reviews of Nicole Mitchell's latest albums, "Black Unstoppable" and "Xenogenesis Suite."

Irony Isn't Dead, It Just Sits Around Waiting for Girl Talk's Newest Release

2008-07-02T17:21:00.003-04:00

There's a moment at the middle of Girl Talk's brilliant new "Feed the Animals" during which I can't help but grin, even though I've listened to the album at least ten times in the past week or two: out of nowhere, Yael Naim's "New Soul," a gorgeous song about finding your place in the world, pops up, and after a second of the song's main vamp being played alone, a particularly brilliant Eminem verse about "[getting] buzzed, [getting] drunk, [getting] crunked" from "Shake That." There are only a small handful of rappers working with the verbal dexterity of Eminem (Ghostface comes to mind), and it's a shame that he hasn't released an album in a few years. That said, however, "Shake That" is not one of Eminem's great singles. Alone, it's just another dumb rap song about getting drunk and getting girls; when placed next to Naim's "la la la"s from "New Soul," there's something subversive about Eminem's lyrics about getting wasted.

I know I generally write about jazz in this blog (this should come as no surprise judging by the fact that the blog is called "The Jazz Monster" and the last post was about the Downbeat Critics' Poll), but Girl Talk's "Feed the Animals" is one of the most brilliant albums, jazz or not, that has come out this year. "Animals" is just as subversive as any recent album from a lefty jazz artist with political interest (whether that be Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic" or Kenny Werner's "Lawn Chair Society"), albeit in a very different way. "Animals" is about the inundation of pop music into our lives, and he uses his sampled juxtapositions to (subtly or otherwise) highlight the ridiculousness of the music that gets played on the radio, ironically creating the best party record of the year in the process. Half of the mash-ups, as short as they are, simply sound better than the songs that are sampled (while the Eminem/Yael Naim section is the best example, there are other brilliant passages putting Jay-Z overtop Radiohead's "Paranoid Android" and juxtaposing "Whoomp! There it Is" with Big Country's namesake hit).

Although I love Girl Talk both as a person interested in decaying culture and as a person who enjoys a good party album, above all I enjoy his work as a total music nerd. Although for the most part the samples aren't quite as obscure or obvious as on the album before it, "Night Ripper," there is enough going on in "Feed the Animals" to satisfy any obsessed music fan for hours of listening. I'm not going to give anything away, but most of the best samples only reveal themselves after after a few listens; the first time through a listener can only pick up the really obvious clips. I can't recommend Girl Talk's "Feed the Animals" enough to interested listeners or pop music obsessives; that said, if you strictly listen to jazz, it's probably not your cup of tea.

Next time I'll have a review of (bass player) Avishai Cohen's "Adama," which was released a few months ago.

Guess the Downbeat Critics' Poll 2008!

2008-06-29T23:57:00.005-04:00

Yeah, I know, I'm about four days late with this post. I apologize. It won't happen again; I missed a few days because of a little bit of general topsy-turvey-ness. As far as I'm concerned, though, this post was worth the wait. It's time for my first annual "Guess the Downbeat Critics' Poll" post! Here's how it works: I'm going to name a category, name who I believe the winner will be, and then give my personal pick for who should win the category. Occasionally, where necessary, I'll add some kind of ad hominem attack or random side note.

Jazz Artist: Herbie Hancock. Should Win: Herbie Hancock. Downbeat loves people who get major non-jazz awards; case in point: Ornette Coleman last year.
Jazz Album: Herbie Hancock's "River: The Joni Letters." Should Win: Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic."
Hall of Fame: Herbie Hancock. Should Win: Lee Konitz.
Record Label: Blue Note. Should Win: Sunnyside. Or Pi. The former if we're going for volume of good albums, the latter if we're looking for a label that puts out few records, but records that are consistently brilliant.
Rising Star Jazz Artist: Vijay Iyer. Should Win: Always Vijay Iyer. Even though he's a legit star.
Jazz Group: Dave Holland Quintet. Should Win: Dave Holland Quintet.
Rising Star Jazz Group: This is tough. I'm going to go with Vijay Iyer's quartet, as neither of last year's winners have released new albums in a while. But there could be an upset from anybody from The Bad Plus to the Chris Potter Underground.
Big Band: Maria Schneider Orchestra.
Rising Star Big Band: No idea.
Composer: Maria Schneider. Should Win: Vijay Iyer, who will be relegated for another year to rising star.
Rising Star Composer: Vijay Iyer. Should Win: Anat Cohen. We need fresh blood in this category, even though I love Vijay Iyer to death.

Female Vocalist: Dianne Reeves. Ugh. Should Win: Cassandra Wilson.
Rising Star F Vocalist: Gretchen Parlato. Should Win: Gretchen Parlato.
Male Vocalist: Kurt Elling Should Win: Who cares.
Rising Star M Vocalist: Somebody. Should Win: Somebody else, probably.

Alto Sax: Ornette Coleman. Should Win: Ornette.
Rising Star Alto: Steve Lehman. Or maybe Jaleel Shaw. Or possibly Rudresh Mahanthappa. This is a really tough one, to be honest. All three have either released good albums or done good side-man work this year. But I can't pick one so I'll just throw Steve Lehman out there.
Tenor Sax: Sonny Rollins. Should Win: Chris Potter. Are you kidding me? Sonny Rollins wins every year in spite of his senility. Chris Potter had two killin' albums out last year and was involved in the making of countless others.
Rising Star T Sax: Chris Potter. Should Win: Anat Cohen.
Soprano Sax: Wayne. Should Win: Wayne.
Rising Star S Sax: Steve Wilson. Should Win: Chris Potter.
Baritone Sax: This is a tough one. It really depends on whether or not James Carter's "Present Tense" was heard by critics before votes were due. If it wasn't, this category belongs to Gary Smulyan. Should Win: Either one.
Clarinet: Don Byron. Should Win: Don Byron. Always.
Rising Star Clarinet: Anat Cohen. Should Win: Anat Cohen.
Flute: James Moody. Perhaps Frank Wess. Should Win: Nicole Mitchell, but she's too young.
Rising Star Flute: Nicole Mitchell. Should Win: Nicole Mitchell.

Trumpet: Dave Douglas. Should Win: Dave Douglas. Dave Douglas beat out Wynton by more than a hundred votes last time. Here's hoping the gap gets wider...
Rising Star Trumpet: Jeremy Pelt. Should Win: Steven Bernstein. Duh. I'm keeping my fingers crossed though, this is a tough category. Expect Avishai Cohen to move up in this category.
Trombone: Steve Turre. Should Win: I have no idea, but Steve Turre always wins.
Rising Star Trombone: Again, no idea. Should Win: Josh Roseman.

Acoustic Piano: Herbie Hancock. Should Win: Kenny Werner, who won't even make the list.
Rising Star Piano: Jason Moran, Robert Glasper, or Vijay Iyer. Should Win: Either Jason Moran, Robert Glasper, or Vijay Iyer.
Organ: I'm gonna go out on a limb and say Dr. Lonnie Smith. Should Win: Sam Yahel.
Rising Star Organ: Sam Yahel. Should Win: Uri Caine.
Keyboard: Uri Caine. Should Win: Uri Caine. I'm crossing my fingers, this is probably the only category in which a "rising star" type figure has a real shot at getting one of the major awards, as last time he came in second after Joe Zawinul, who is now dead.
Rising Star Keyboard" Craig Taborn. Should Win: Craig Taborn. Or Uri Caine. Either one.
Vibes: Bobby Hutcherson. Should Win: Gary Burton.
Rising Star Vibes: Stefon Harris, even though he isn't a rising star by any stretch. Should Win: Chris Dingman; his work on "Prelude: To Cora" by Ambrose Akinmusire and "On Meaning" by Steve Lehman was brilliant.

Drums: Roy Haynes or Jack DeJohnette.
Rising Star Drums: Another tough category. I'm going to say Matt Wilson, but it could go to anyone from Jef Ballard to Eric Harland to Nasheet Waits. Should Win: Eric Harland. But I love Matt Wilson.
Percussion: Poncho Sanchez.
Rising Star Percussion: Suzie Ibarra or Hamid Drake.

Guitar: Bill Frisell. Should Win: Bill Frisell. "History, Mystery" is one of the two best albums of the year.
Rising Star Guitar: Either Lionel Loueke or Kurt Rosenwinkel. Should Win: Liberty Ellman! Pick a real rising star, fer chrissake...
Bass: Dave Holland. Should Win: Dave Holland.
Rising Star Bass: Larry Grenadier. Should Win: Larry Grenadier, but Esperanza Spalding could come out of nowhere and win this category on the basis of "Esperanza" and a recent article in Downbeat.
Violin: Regina Carter. Should Win: Jenny Scheinman. I really hope Jenny Scheinman can pull this one off, both of her recent albums are gems.
Rising Star Violin: Jenny Scheinman.
Miscellaneous: Toots Thielemans. Should Win: This is a stupid category.
Rising Star Miscellaneous: Erik Friedlander.

So there you have it. When the August issue of Downbeat comes out (in the middle of July, of course) I'll tally up my guesses and see how many are right. For the time being, though, if you disagree, agree, or want to gossip, please feel free to comment.

Killer Vocal Jazz. Yes, I'm Serious.

2008-06-25T14:19:00.006-04:00

Alright, I know that I've had my scrapes in vocal jazz in the past months (I think my two least favorable reviews so far this year have been of Dianne Reeves' vomit-worthy "When You Know" and Roberta Gambarini and Hank Jones' terminally boring "You Are There"), but I'm here to make up for all of that so that the Gods of sung jazz can reverse my karma for the better. The two vocal jazz albums that I've heard recently to review for this blog (Cassandra Wilson's "Loverly" and Moss' self-titled debut called, well, "Moss") are totally different, but equally great. "Moss" is an innovative, folky, dare-I-say "rural jazz," album in which five luminaries from the vocal jazz world (Kate McGarry, Theo Blackmann, Peter Eldridge, Laura Kinhan, and my vocal hero Luciana Souza) sing originals and covers of the likes of Tom Waits, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell, whereas "Loverly" is a more-or-less straight ahead affair featuring mostly standards done brilliantly with a stellar rhythm section (pianist Jason Moran, guitarist Marvin Sewell, bassists Reginald Veal or Lonnie Plaxico, and drummer Herlin Riley) that gets a lot of time to show off.

Upon first view, it seems as though Cassandra Wilson hasn't made an album as straight-ahead as "Loverly" in at least ten years, but the beauty of "Loverly" lies in its depth. While it is not a cutting-edge jazz record by any standard, Wilson has no problem allowing her sidemen play some extremely angular solos (check out the way Marvin Sewell holds some really weird notes on "Wouldn't it be Loverly"), and each member of her great rhythm section makes the most of their time in the spotlight. The highlight of the album is a version of "St. James Infirmary," a song played over and over and over that Wilson makes fresh by turning into a slab of hard-core, M-Base funk. Jason Moran plays a chopped-up, bluesy solo, while Sewell comps up a storm with some extremely dissonant voicings. Wilson even does some cool rhythmic scatting during Sewell's solo. Albums like "Loverly" are the reason that people like Roberta Gambarini keep on mining the same old standards; sometimes in the right hands they just sound great. Recommended.

"Moss" is totally different, and this is clear about five seconds into the album; as opposed to opening with a standard (or an original that sounds like it could be a standard), it opens with a neo-classical rendition of a verse of Joni Mitchell's "Shadows and Light." The rest of the album walks the line between jazz, classical, and folk-rock, hitting its apex with Kate McGarry singing a beautiful, enlightening version of Neil Young's "Old Man," that, with minimal changes to Young's arrangement, still sounds like jazz. Each of the five singers have spotlights (another highlight is Luciana Souza's vocal on her original "Home"), although the most interesting tracks are group passages like "Object Devotion" and the two versions of "Shadows and Light," which really show the group's interplay. Also, guitarist Ben Monder's work on this album alone makes it worth a listen; as opposed to taking up a lot of solo space, he opts to stay on the sidelines (with a few notable exceptions, such as on "Home"), comping brilliantly and innovatively throughout. Also recommended.

Vocal jazz can be good when it's done well. Moss and Cassandra Wilson do it well; Dianne Reeves, not so much. Both albums are definitely worth a listen if you can get your hands on them; "Moss" in particular is a great listen if you're looking for yet another splinter of the "rural jazz" direction that Bill Frisell and Jenny Scheinman have been moving in. Next time I'll either have a review of Marc Ribot's "Party Intellectuals" or my first annual Guess-The-Downbeat-Critic's-Poll post.

Freedom of Expression: Marc Ribot, Anthony Coleman and Brad Jones Tear it Up, Evan Parker Puts it Together

2008-06-23T00:01:00.004-04:00

It's time for another free jazz round-up, everybody! After the overwhelmingly positive response (Well, actually, there were no comments... but on the plus side, there were no negative comments!) from the first one, a joint-review of new albums (or reissues) from the Free-Form Funky Freqs, Fieldwork, and Matthew Shipp from a month or two ago, I decided that as soon as I had enough obscure free jazz to write about, I'd jump on it immediately. For those of you who have not heard of Marc Ribot, Anthony Coleman, or Brad Jones, the three of them have played together sporadically over the past twenty years (and between the three of them have played with a lot of people in both the jazz and rock worlds), and after a few years of not playing together reunited at The Stone on Saturday night. Evan Parker is a brilliant European saxophone player who made his name by releasing one of the great solo saxophone records of the seventies, simply titled "Saxophone Solos," and his band on the new "Boustrophedon" is rounded out by a 14 piece orchestra that includes Roscoe Mitchell and Craig Taborn amongst its ranks.

To be frank, Saturday's concert at The Stone (John Zorn's cramped, non-air conditioned mecca for experimental music in New York City), featuring Marc Ribot, Anthony Coleman, and Brad Jones, was not for everybody. In fact, it probably wasn't for most people. All three of my friends wanted to leave at one point or another, but I wouldn't let them drag me out. The music was abrasive, occasionally boring, audience-bating- everything that can make a great free-jazz concert fall apart- but for some reason, the stars aligned and it just happened to hit the spot perfectly. Ribot, Coleman, and Jones tore music apart at its seams and made no effort to sew it back together; the three "songs" (I put "songs" in quotation marks because each piece was more of a lengthy improvisation than a standard) floated around the room, sometimes turning into outright noise with Anthony Coleman's prepared piano acting as a percussion instrument and occasionally anchoring the groove. The best "song" of the three was the second; it began as a folk dirge, complete with open chords and a triplet feel (although it changed arbitrarily between 3/4, 6/8, and 9/8), staying there for a while until moving into a lengthy portion devoid of time and finally move into a pulsating section that could only be described as funky Stravinsky. The concert clearly wasn't for everyone, and many people walked out. But man is it fun to just see great musicians bang on shit and see what kinds of cool noises they can make every once in a while.

Evan Parker takes the opposite tack on "Boustrephedon," recorded at a concert a few years ago; as opposed to simply deconstructing and rearranging music and rearranging music with life-affirming zeal, Parker is more interested in finding the meeting point between the worlds of free jazz and avant garde classical music. Some passages in "Boustrephedon" are clearly composed in some fashion (either written out or dictated), and in "Furrow 5" and "Furrow 6" there are moments in which entire segments of his 14-piece orchestra play in tandem. These backing figures- if you can even call them that- add a different back-drop for the soloists to work with, and in that sense they serve to make the music more interesting. The soloists themselves are all incredible, with a particularly interesting solo from clarinetist John Rangecroft towards the beginning of "Furrow 4." The portions during which the band freely improvises as a whole are just as cacophonous and dissonant as one would expect from a group like this, although anybody who actually goes out and buys and Evan Parker record probably knows what to expect. While, again, it's not for everybody, "Boustrephedon" poses an interesting answer to the question "How free should free jazz be?," and for those who are interested in this sort of music it's definitely worth listening to.

But that said, it doesn't offer the same catharsis as hearing a bunch of great musicians bang on shit and do things they aren't supposed to do to their instruments. Seriously, what a great concert. Next time I'll either have a joint-review of Moss' new self-titled album and Cassandra Wilson's "Loverly" or a review of Marc Ribot's new album with his band Ceramic Dog (whose 10 o'clock show at The Stone I would have gone to if not for my wussy friends).

Don't Mess With the Zamir

2008-06-21T13:12:00.005-04:00

I think that listening to new albums by artists who I've never heard of is one of my favorite things to do as a critic; counter-intuitively, I find that I actually wind up having much odder and specific expectations of what their albums will sound like than when I listen to albums by artists whose work I know well. Take Daniel Zamir, for example. I found out about his new album by looking at the Tzadik website (John Zorn's Tzadik label is probably my favorite indie other than Pi, although a lot of their releases are contemporary classical) and finding that the rhythm section was made up of some of my favorite downtown players: Joey Baron, Uri Caine, and Greg Cohen. I found the album online, but before listening to it I figured I may as well check out Zamir's myspace for any clues as to who he is; it turns out that Zamir is an Israeli orthodox Jew, and that his biggest influence (as a musician) is "Torah." And to top it off, the songs had titles like "You Are my G-D" and "Let Me In Under Your Wing." "Ugh," I said, "not another Jewish 'A Love Supreme'," and put off listening to the album so I could sit around and (happily) hear Esperanza Spalding complain about her love life for the fiftieth time.

I couldn't have been more wrong about "I Believe," Daniel Zamir's new album. As opposed to being "Another Jewish 'A Love Supreme'," it's a funky Jewish "Tales From the Hudson;" an accessible Mike Brecker record by a hacidic, soprano saxophone wielding technical monster. The second track, "Poem 51/52," exemplifies the aesthetic of the album perfectly. After a funky, straight-ahead head with a dash of klezmer, Zamir plays a passionate, note-intensive solo that manages to sound killin' in spite of it's wearing technique on it's sleeve. Uri Caine follows with a piano solo that sounds like it could tear the heavens apart; as straight as Caine ever plays with anybody, this solo shows off his chops in a modernist jazz setting as well as anything he's played with Dave Douglas. Greg Cohen also takes a melodic solo, and Joey Baron anchors the proceedings with the off-kilter charm you would expect from his playing with John Zorn and Bill Frisell over the past twenty years.

Other highlights on the album include the aforementioned "Let Me Under Your Wing," which gives Zamir a chance to show off his saxophone pyrotechnics in a three minute solo without accompaniment, and the opener, "7 Midot," which introduces Zamir's intentions on the album with a bang. The only major flaw with the album as a whole is the fact that occasionally the songs blend together; I can't remember the difference between "Poem 54 (770)" and "Poem 10," and a lot of the ideas in Zamir's various solos tend to cross over due to a tendency to put everything he knows into each improvisation. While the former is a problem for the album, you hardly notice the latter due to Zamir's ability to drum up (divine?) excitement during his solos.

On a whole, "I Believe" is a very good album, and showcases Daniel Zamir as a major talent, and one of the leading voices in what I like to call the "Jewish Jazz" movement. He has yet to deliver an album as brilliant as Avishai Cohen's "After the Big Rain" or Anat Cohen's "Poetica," and his compositions and performances aren't quite as mind-blowing as those of Masada or the Bar Kokhba Sextet (both run by John Zorn, his mentor), but "I Believe" is still an extremely promising showcase for Zamir's work. Recommended.

Next time I'm tempted to have a review of Girl Talk's "Feed the Animals," mostly because I can't stop listening to it and attempting to pick out samples... I know, I know, it isn't jazz by any stretch of the imagination, but who cares? Music is music... On the other hand, I could review a concert by Marc Ribot, Anthony Coleman, and Brad Jones. Check back next time!

Woah, Jenny

2008-06-19T00:01:00.002-04:00

There seems to be an odd (yet pretty awesome) trend in the jazz world lately in which artists release two brilliant, completely different albums at the same time (Chris Potter did it with "Follow the Red Line" and "Song for Anyone" last year, and Vijay Iyer recently did it with his own "Tragicomic" and Fieldwork's "Door"). Violinist Jenny Scheinman has managed to do the same thing, releasing two seemingly completely different albums, "Crossing the Field" and "Jenny Scheinman," at the same time. To add to the confusion, "Jenny Scheinman" is the first album that she has released as a vocalist, and is by no means a jazz album but a low-key, gorgeous, country-folk-rock extravaganza.

"Jenny Scheinman" is one of those albums that begs to be forgotten, and it probably will be. Jazz publications will give it good-but-not-great reviews (4 stars out of 5, perhaps 3 1/2), while more pop-oriented magazines won't even review it (an alt country-folk album? By a jazz violinist? Yeah, right.). This is really a shame, because it's one of the prettiest albums I've heard all year; like the brilliant "Bill Frisell and Petra Haden" from a few years ago the music is so unlike anything else out there, and so low-key, that it will probably just wind up sitting on shelves in the jazz sections of record and book stores. Scheinman seems to know this, as all of the best songs on the album have a weary sort of quality to them; "I Was Young When I Left Home," a folk tune which opens the album and which is given an incredibly spare arrangement here, shines in a scrappy, back-porch sort of way. "Shame Shame Shame" rocks out, with Scheinman mustering up all of her ability to make it sound as bad-ass as possible. Tony Scherr is invaluable as a guitarist on this album; his slide work on every track but "Rebecca's Song" (which features Bill Frisell) adds bluesy gravity to the proceedings. Highly Recommended.

"Crossing the Field," at least on the surface, is incomparable to "Jenny Scheinman;" there are no vocals, and the spare proceedings of "Jenny Scheinman" are gone as Scheinman is accompanied by a jazz quintet (which features pianist Jason Moran, guitarist Bill Frisell in a rare sideman post, Tony Scherr, who plays bass here as opposed to guitar and drummer Kenny Wollesen) and, on a few tracks, an entire string orchestra (conducted by violist Eyvind Kang). "Crossing the Field" is something of a companion piece to Bill Frisell's "History, Mystery," as so many of the same musicians appear on both albums, but the aesthetic is quite different. Scheinman's version of so-called "rural jazz" (I love that term, I even tagged it to the end of my "History, Mystery" review) is much less pastoral than Frisell's, and "Crossing the Field" sounds a lot like Aaron Copland as filtered through Django Reinhardt's quartet, with random modernist flourishes. Frisell plays a characteristically brilliant guitar solo on "I Heart Eye Patch," an up-tempo country-jazz work-out, while Jason Moran gets a chance to stretch out on "Awful Sad," a swing throw-back. Scheinman herself solos on just about everything, but there is no point in going into specifics because every solo manages to be a highlight. Also highly recommended.

The odd thing about these two albums is that, in spite of the fact that on paper (or on online musings) they seem completely different, they compliment each other. Both albums are free to listen to on Scheinman's website, and I would suggest that if you are so inclined you listen to them back-to-back. There's something about the scrappy country-rock of "Jenny Scheinman" that makes the orchestral (yet still scrappy) jazz of "Crossing the Field" even more interesting; whether singing or playing violin, she manages to sound like Jenny Scheinman.

Next time I'll have a review of Daniel Zamir's "I Believe," although I will probably still be spending my time listening to "Esperanza" over and over again, and randomly diluting it with Jenny Scheinman's "I Was Young When I Left Home." I can't help it; they're that good.

Dave Douglas Cooks Something Up So Good It's Illicit

2008-06-17T00:03:00.002-04:00

A little while ago I wrote a review of Bill Frisell's "History, Mystery" in which I said that his consistency from album to album was matched only by Brad Mehldau; I would like to append Dave Douglas to that group. In fact, I would go so far as to say Dave Douglas is even more consistent, and more consistently adventurous, if only because his recent output has been so much more frequent and varied than Mehldau's, and his sideman work so much more frequent and varied than Frisell's. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a knock to Bill Frisell of Brad Mehldau; both are brilliant musicians. That said, though, looking at Allmusic.com, you realize that out of his twenty seven albums, Dave Douglas has only recieved lower than four stars on three of them. "Moonshine," Douglas' new live album with the group that recorded the brilliant "Keystone" a few years ago, continues with this dazzling consistency, and is just as adventurous as anything else by Douglas.

A major fear I had initially before listening to this album was that without the amount of post-production work that was done on "Keystone" (one of the great jazz-electronica albums along with Vijay Iyer and Mike Ladd's "In What Language?," Kurt Rosenwinkel's "Heartcore" and Kenny Werner's "Lawn Chair Society") the Keystone band would either fall apart, or lose what made the first album so distinctive. I had always been curious to hear how a band from one of the jazz-electronica albums would manage to make the music work live; Douglas' approach is simple: the songs are looser, and the DJ (DJ Olive) is simply a fully integrated member of his band. The only song in which DJ Olive really comes to the fore is on "Flood Plane," which turns into a duet between a sample of George W. Bush saying the word "terrorism" and Douglas mournfully playing his trumpet. While the political motivation is obvious, the idea of Douglas dueting with a DJ is much more interesting. His reaction to the samples is inspired, and DJ Olive's selection of an Islamic singer for another sample fits Douglas' somber tone perfectly.

The other members are also just as inspired when working either with samples of simply playing with an essentially normal, hip-hop inspired jazz quintet. Keyboardist Adam Benjamin does some extremely cool stuff rhythmically to fit Olive's samples; on "Married Life" he plays one of the dirtiest, funkiest riffs I've ever heard on a jazz record. Marcus Strickland, who plays saxophone, trades off with Douglas on "Kitten," a bad-ass metal track.

The best song on the album, and the one that contains the most interesting solos, is the closer "Tough" ("as in 'too bad'," Douglas helpfully states in the liner notes), an old-school hip-hop jam where everyone in the band gets a chance to play for a while. Douglas' opening lick is classic; it's too funky to describe let alone equal, although his use of false fingerings in a passage later on in his solo comes close. Strickland plays a knotty solo that recalls Greg Osby at his most lyrical. Drummer Gene Lake plays a technically accomplished, killin' drum solo (one of very few on this album). Even DJ Olive takes a chorus, using samples of drums and shouting to build the song to it's climax.

"Moonshine" isn't a "great" album in the way that "Keystone" and few other albums are, but it kills, and it's definitely worth a listen if you can find it. Everybody plays their ass off, and "Tough" is probably the best track for your 80s hip-hop theme party that jazz has to offer. Recommended for people who like to dance and people who like Dave Douglas.

Next time I'll do a double review of Jenny Scheinman's two killer new albums. One of them has vocals. And barely any violin. But it's pretty brilliant.

Stop Reading This and Pick Up the New Downbeat

2008-06-14T21:00:00.006-04:00

Uh, it's like the title says. If you don't already have your copy, you need to run, NOT WALK, and get the new Downbeat. I know, I don't usually act like a Downbeat PR guy, but seriously, the cover article is basically just Vijay Iyer, Jason Moran, and Matthew Shipp (known, as far as I'm concerned, as "the three most interesting working pianists in jazz") hanging out and talking about their craft. As if that weren't enough (I could sit through a twenty page article about how great Sonny Rollins still is in spite of his senility for the Iyer/Moran/Shipp dialogue), the next article is about Jenny Scheinman, who has two new albums (both of which have Bill Frisell, Tony Scherr, and Kenny Wollesen, and both of which I'm aching to hear) coming out in the near future. Even the excerpt of Victor Wooten's book, in spite of being a little bit patronizing (Woah! You can use a chromatic scale as a device in improvisation and notes outside of the key can sound good!), is enlightening.

Plus there's a hilarious Blindfold Test where Andy Bey manages to rival Gary Bartz (if you haven't read it, read it) for the "biggest schmuck during a blindfold test" award (He gives a track from Paul Motian's "On Broadway," with Chris Potter and Larry Grenadier, 0 stars. Uh-huh.). So go out and get it. You won't be disappointed.

In other news, the Thelonious Monk Institute (the birthplace of the careers of Lionel Loueke, Gretchen Parlato, Ambrose Akinmusire, Chris Dingman, Walter Smith III... well, basically everybody. If you didn't go to the Monk institute you've played with some young musician who did) decided it was worth risking being submerged and moved from USC to New Orleans. I don't think this will make any sort of difference to the jazz world, to be honest, but as long as the Monk Institute still exists I could care less where it is.

Next time I'll have a review of "Moonshine." Also, sometime soon I'll do a "Guess the Downbeat Critics Poll!" post.

Why "Cultural Survival" is Great When it's 99 Degrees Out

2008-06-12T23:18:00.004-04:00

David Sanchez, one of a crop of (relatively, in his case) young jazz players who show a major latin influence, has released a number of good albums since his debut album, "Sketches of Dreams," in 1994. "Cultural Survival" is no exception, the compositions are solid, the playing is solid (and includes some good work from major people, like Lage Lund's guitar playing and Danilo Perez' occasional solos as a guest on piano), and the rhythm section (Ben Street on bass, and either Henry Cole or Adam Cruz on drums) is solid. But that's the problem: the album is all surface, without any emotion. It's a solid set of songs, but it comes off as more than a little bit cold and robotic; the majority of tracks sound like jazz modernism by numbers.

The biggest tell of this can be found in listening to Lage Lund, who, here at least, sounds like Pat Metheny's long lost twin brother. Listen to his voicings on "Ay Bendito," for example, and then listen to Metheny's on, say, Micheal Brecker's "Tales From the Hudson." The saxophone-guitar interplay (and occasional unison lines) also belongs on one of the many Metheny-Brecker collaborations. The compositions suffer from the same problem; solid, yes, but frozen cold. The only emotion in any of these compositions comes off as contrived, and many of the tracks have a tendency to bleed together. It's hard to tell where the aforementioned "Ay Bendito" ends and the title track begins even though Danilo Perez plays on the latter.

Additionally, a lot of tracks suffer from their length. Instead of being able to hold one's attention for long periods of time, as the best jazz musicians can (Dave Douglas could play a twenty minute trumpet solo without getting boring), Sanchez' tracks and solos seem to go on forever, with one notable exception. The closing track, "Le Leyenda Del Canaveral," which is also the longest song on the album at 20 minutes and thirty three seconds, moves through different sections and manages to maintain interest over a long period of time due to an inspired solo by Sanchez and Lund's best solo on the record by far. It's the only track where things heat up, and it almost makes the album worth a listen. That said, the rest is the equivalent of jazz air-conditioning; nice and cool, but probably bad for the environment. I'm sure a lot of young musicians will disagree with my thoughts on this album, and that many of them will wind up transcribing Sanchez' and Lund's solos because there is a lot of interesting, "modern" stuff going on. That said though, what's the point of modernism for modernism's sake?

Next time I'll have a review of an album that manages to be "modern," "innovative" and absolutely burnin' at the same time: Dave Douglas' new "Moonshine."

Esperanza! (Spalding)

2008-06-10T00:00:00.006-04:00

I'd like to set the record straight: I love the young bass player Esperanza Spalding's first album, "Junjo." I love the way it sounds like virtually nothing else in jazz; the wordless, expressive vocals sometimes highlighting a melody, occasionally sung along with the bass solo... the way that the band manages to sound minimal and huge at the same time due to the total lack of overdubs... the way you could hear Spalding's energy (albeit quiet, contained energy) just bursting at the seams of the recording, but never quite taking over to a point of destroying the piano trio aesthetic present. When I found out that Spalding would be singing much more (and with lyrics!) on her new album "Esperanza," I was afraid that the barely contained aesthetic of "Junjo" would be gone forever, replaced by a latin-flavored Norah Jones record; Esperanza would succumb to pressure from her other Monk-generation compatriot Ambrose Akinmusire to go R&B, and she would create the worst of all jazz travesties: a crossover record.

Upon first listen, I realized that all of my worst fears had been realized. After a second run through, all I could think was "why did she abandon the wordless vocals and obscure covers of 'Junjo' for this song-writer stuff?" Finally, about an hour ago, I realized that I've listened to this album ten times in the past two days. And then, as I began writing this, I figured it out. I love this album. All of the vocals with lyrics? Gorgeous; she has an incredible voice suited well for everything from Portuguese (the sing-song opener, "Ponta De Areia," is a cover of a tune by Brazilian song-writer Milton Nascimento) to Spanish. The R&B stuff? Beautiful. And somehow, in addition to all of this, she manages to throw in a track with the wordless vocals I loved from "Junjo," called "I Adore You," which will make it onto every mix CD I make for anyone in the coming year, and at least two brilliant straight ahead tracks, including a version of "Body and Soul," sung in Spanish and played in 5/4 (with a killer bass solo), and a post-bop instrumental dedicated to drummer Francisco Mela.

Even the most blatantly cross-over material on here manages to be worth listening to. "Precious," a song about being wronged by a lover that has no right to be anything but cliched, manages to come out as one of the album's most compulsively listenable tracks. "She Got to You," also about being wronged by a lover, contains some of pianist Leo Genovese's best work on the whole record. In fact, every band member does incredible work on this; Jamey Haddad's percussion is great throughout the album, as is Otis Brown's work on the drumset. As for the guest spots, which include Ambrose Akinmusire, Donald Harrison, and (not nearly enough) Gretchen Parlato, each only appears on a few tracks, leaving you wanting more.

I would love it if Esperanza Spalding were the next Norah Jones, and I think the world would be a happier place in general if people listened to this album in the least cynical way possible. Highly recommended.

Next time I'll have a review of David Sanchez' "Cultural Survival," and maybe something else. I was initially thinking I'd do a two-fer with "Esperanza," but I gave up on it when I started writing.

Marilyn Mazur's Potent "Elixir"

2008-06-08T12:39:00.004-04:00

The small handful of people who know of Marilyn Mazur (I can't really say that I did up until I read a review of this album in Downbeat and wanted to hear it myself) know her as a late Miles Davis sideman and as Jan Garbarek's longtime percussionist. Out of those two, her latest, "Elixir," falls closer to the latter's work, but mostly because Garbarek is her only collaborator on half of the album. The rest is made up of short pieces and improvisations for percussion, all of which manage to straddle the (very thin, in this case) line between creepy and ethereal. Mazur understands that space is an incredibly important element in any kind of percussion album, and each of the 21 tracks contains its fair amount of silence and lengthy tones.

The real draw of this album, admittedly, is the ability to listen to Mazur and Garbarek, two nearly telepathic collaborators, play together in ways that they never get to play together in Garbarek's current new-age ensemble. "Joy Chant" and "Orientales" in particular contain some amazing saxophone work, with Garbarek playing like he hasn't played since his seventies stint with Keith Jarrett's classic European Quartet or at least since his early solo work for ECM. Those two songs are treat to hear, as is "River," on which Garbarek plays some incredible (and, oddly enough for Garbarek, incredibly bluesy) soprano saxophone; on "River," as in all of the collaborative tracks, Mazur creates a colorful rhythmic and melodic backdrop that Garbarek reacts to in the foreground.

Each of the solo percussion tracks, of which my personal favorites are "Creature Walk" and "Bell Painting," follows its own logic. Each song sounds like its title; "Creature Walk" created by a quick, rhythmically complex series of motifs that create the aural equivalent of some sort of small reptile, "Bell Painting" a simple, 55 second long static work of art create by bells as opposed to brush-strokes.

Obviously "Elixir" is not an album for everybody. It is not a straight ahead jazz or fusion album, and it has virtually nothing in common with the work of today's great young innovators (Jason Moran, Vijay Iyer, Lionel Loueke) other than its search for something new in the jazz idiom. In all honesty, it has more in common with the quarter-tonal classical compositions of an artist like Jo Kondo or Lou Harrison than anything by, say, Charlie Parker (with the exception of Garbarek's startling bluesy bop licks on "River"). That said, though, for adventurous listeners who are interested in different approaches to improvisational music (and especially for non-drumset percussionists), "Elixir" is a must-listen.

News Round-Up: Vision Festival Kicks off 12th Year, NEA Jazz Masters Announced

2008-06-06T12:36:00.008-04:00

I had a major realization the other day while watching a rerun of VH1's "Maxim Hot 100" special on mute (I was listening to Brian Blade's "Seasons of Change" for this blog): I am probably the single biggest jazz nerd on the planet. I wasn't thinking "woah, that girl's hot," or "Dayumn, them Pussycat Dolls be some fine mamas" or whatever a regular red-blooded 18-year-old male watching the VH1 "Maxim Hot 100" special is supposed to think, but instead "where is Gretchen Parlato?! Gretchen Parlato should be on this list!" And she should be. Seriously, I have a friend who once said "Oh yeah, Gretchen Parlato is great. And she has a great voice too," and I don't think I've ever heard him say anything like that about anyone.

Anyway, though, onto real news. The Vision Festival, the yearly free and experimental jazz festival in New York, is kicking off it's twelfth year on Tuesday, and as far as I can tell, this year's festival promises to be great. Opening night alone has shows from William Parker and Hamid Drake and Dave Douglas and the Magic Circle (Uri Caine plays keys, Brian Carrott on vibes), and other shows are headlined by Oliver Lake, James Spaulding, and Wadada Leo Smith's Golden Quintet (with Vijay Iyer!). So if you're in New York and you're looking for some great experimental jazz and you aren't into the Anthony Coleman-curated version of The Stone (I dare you to try and choose between Rudresh Mahanthappa and Steve Lehman's Dual Identity band at The Stone and Dave Douglas' Magic Circle), check it out.

In other news, the National Endowment finally decided that Lee Konitz was worth 25,000 dollars, and not a moment too soon. Maybe now he can pay for some of his medication. They've been giving out these "jazz masters" endowments for how long? Twenty six years? And they've only decided now to give an award to a man who is arguably one of the greatest and most consistent living improvisers? In the same year that they give it to George "BAAADDDDD" Benson?

Alright, that's a bit unfair. George Benson is a great guitar player when he decides to make real music and not soul-tinged love-jamz. But honestly, isn't Lee Konitz recognized as more than just "a pioneer of cool jazz" by now?

Anyway, that's the news. Check back on Sunday and there should be some sort of new review here.

Brian Blade Crawls Out From A Cave Somewhere, Releases Killin' Album

2008-06-04T23:41:00.007-04:00

There are certain artists who I like to think of as the Osama Bin Ladens of the jazz world (I'm sorry, that was irrelevant, but I thought it was funny); not because they have a tendency to commit terrible acts of terrorism that harm people, but because they manage to toil as sidemen for years, only surfacing after long periods of hiding to release relatively short, taped records of their existence. Brian Blade's new "Season of Changes," like Kurt Rosenwinkel's recent "The Remedy" or James Carter's "Present Tense," is one of those recordings- and the fact that this is Blade's first album in eight years is only proof that it's the biggest news to come out since Bin Laden's latest video surfaced (or at least since one of the two democrats- I can't tell the difference between them in terms of policy- clinched victory last night). Alright, maybe it isn't that newsworthy. But it should be news to anyone who enjoys contemporary jazz.

"Season of Changes" has such a killer band that I barely even need to write a review of the record: Kurt Rosenwinkel on guitar, Myron Walden (alto) and Melvin Butler (tenor) on saxes, John Cowherd on piano, and Blade himself on drums. I may as well go through some of the highlights of each player's work on the album though, as so much of the playing on this album is good. Rosenwinkel's solo on "Return of the Prodigal Son" is pure Rosenwinkel; a knotty web of ideas and motifs that fit together brilliantly. Waldren's bass clarinet work on "Improvisation" manages to be violent, avant-garde, in your face, and beautiful all at the same time. Melvin Butler (whose own work I do not know well enough but have been inspired to check out due to this record) plays an interesting Albert-Ayler-by-way-of-Micheal-Brecker solo on "Stoner Hill." Blade, the man himself, provides a brilliant backbeat for everything, and Cowherd wrote the episodic title track.

The only problem with this album is that no one player has enough time to truly shine (the band is a septet; although I mentioned each member's work, there just wasn't enough room on the album to fit in as much solo space as I would have liked), a serious issue when the per capita talent in a band is as strong as in this one. Perhaps it would have been better if Blade had released a double album (the logical solution Dave Holland came up with years back with "Extended Play" and that Rosenwinkel himself worked out of "The Remedy"), but I suppose "this band is so good that I wish there was more music" is hardly a legitimate complaint. Hopefully Blade will have more time in the near future to devote time to his own work, but with the amount of sideman work he does (seriously, he's in Chris Potter/ Dave Douglas/ Larry Grenadier territory here) chances are he won't come out with another album for a while. Here's hoping Bin Laden's next record ("Osama Bin Singin' the Cole Porter Songbook?") doesn't come out first. Recommended.

As always, I'm living day to day with this blog, so I have no idea what I'm reviewing next time. Also, I'd like to apologize for this being the third day since my most recent post. But you should be honored by my lateness ("Like I'd even show up fa this fake shit..." sorry, couldn't help it). Feel free to comment if you think that a comparison between Brian Blade and Osama Bin Laden isn't warranted, or if you like Blade's album, or if you just love this blog.

Bobby Previte's New Record is Bumpin'

2008-06-02T00:00:00.005-04:00

Well, to be fair, Bobby Previte is always bumpin'. It doesn't matter which of his countless groups he's playing with, be it Groundtruther, Latin for Travellers, or his dizzying fusion group Weather Clear Track Fast, Previte's playing and compositions are always brilliant, and his bands are always made up of some of New York's best musicians. "Set the Alarm for Monday," his recent record with his band The New Bump, is no exception; it features such luminaries as Steven Bernstein (who, as I've mentioned before, always hovers near the top of Downbeat's rising star trumpet list) and Ellery Eskelin (who should hover near the top of Downbeat's rising star tenor list by now) and a set of all new compositions from Previte.

The album opens up in an incredible mellow fashion with the title track before moving into film noir territory, an area the album occupies for the rest of it's time. Songs like "I'd Advise You Not to Miss Your Train" and "I'm On to Her" evoke scenes of depravity in side-streets, and Bernstein, Eskelin, and vibes player Bill Ware are all brilliant in adding colour and detail to that image during their solos. Just listen to "There Was Something in My Drink," in which Ware, Previte, and bassist Brad Jones provide a backdrop groove; Eskelin's solo is brilliant in it's simplicity and fiery passion, but Bernstein manages to outshine him by playing a solo with so many odd twists and extended vocal techniques that it would make Dave Douglas proud. In all honesty, however, comparing Bernstein to Douglas is unfair. Bernstein's work on this album in particular is much darker than anything Douglas has put out in a while.

Of particular note in addition to "There Was Something in My Drink" is "Were You Followed," in which Eskelin plays one of the single most interesting solos I've ever heard. Managing to meld motivic development, interesting scale and note choices, and a free jazz aesthetic, his solo shows that there is no one else in jazz quite like him. The album closer, "Wake Up Andrea, We're Pulling In," is a longer play on the opening title track, and features some good vibes work from Ware; by the time the album is over you barely even realize that it's been almost an hour. Recommended for people fond of downtown jazz-noir (If you love John Zorn's "Spillane," for example, you'll love this).

Next time I'll have something. I don't know exactly what that something will be yet, but check back! Seriously, it'll be worth your while.

Top Five(ish) Jazz Tunes of the Spring!

2008-05-31T11:22:00.008-04:00

As I've said over and over again, so far this has been an incredible year for jazz; while it doesn't look like the flow of brilliant albums and tracks will let up in the near future, I thought it was worth commemorating what may well be the best spring in jazz since the fifties with something of a Top Five list. The problem (if you can call it a problem) is that after listing a large number of my favorite tunes since March or so and then whittling it down, I was incapable of creating a list of less than eight. I've tried to link you to the song wherever possible. So here you are, in alphabetical order, my almost-top-five of Spring 2008:

"A Change is Gonna Come" by Bill Frisell: Bill Frisell is quite possibly the single most interesting musician to gain status as one of Jazz's premier artist. He got his start playing tons of sessions for ECM, and made a name for himself by spending half of his time with Paul Motian and the other half with John Zorn; for the past ten or so years he has divided his time between working with brilliant guitar trios and making country-jazz records. "A Change is Gonna Come" represents something of a departure; neither country nor jazz, the song is a cover of a Sam Cooke song from the 60s. Greg Tardy plays a ridiculously good tenor solo after Frisell himself finishes up his own trademark solo featuring a lot of space and some notes that nobody else would play.

"Cuerro Y Alama (Body and Soul)" by Esperanza Spalding: While I have not reviewed Esperanza Spalding's "Esperanza" yet (I haven't been able to get ahold of it in it's entirety), based on the tracks featured on her myspace- and this gem, a spanish 5/4 cover of Body and Soul, in particular- that it could be brilliant. At first, when I'd heard that she spent more time singing on this album than on her gorgeous, underplayed debut "Junjo," I was a little bit apprehensive, but her voice is beautiful, and her bass solo on this track is brilliant in a melodic way.

"HumSong (Skidrow Anthem) Remix" by Ambrose Akinmusire and Yellow Then Blue: While the original is without a question growing on me (the more I listen to the album, the more I feel like I may have been a little too harsh on Akinmusire; he really is a shining light in the new jazz scene, so I suppose my expectations were just too high), the remix of "HumSong" as done by Yellow Then Blue just has a vibrancy that the original is lacking. The entrance of Walter Smith III into the track almost halfway through is accompanied by particularly spastic drums, and the sequenced percussion only makes the track seem more innovative and vital. Smith and Akinmusire in passionately trade fours, and Smith hits notes with incredible intensity.

"Lonely Woman" by Marian McPartland: If one more person reminds me that Marian McPartland just turned 90 I may cry; on the basis of her recent "Twilight World" album, she is just as vital (if not more vital) as a musician as she was in the 50s. "Lonely Woman," an Ornette Coleman cover, somehow does manages to fit in with the rest of the album. The most
astonishing thing about her cover of "Lonely Woman" is that she, a ninety year old who came up in the hard bop scene, has managed to make one of the best free jazz recordings of the year.

"Nonvignon" by Lionel Loueke: I didn't love Lionel Loueke's "Karibu;" to be blunt, it wasn't accessible like his live show in spite of Blue Note's efforts to smooth out all of the rough edges in this music. "Nonvignon," however, is without a question Lionel Loueke's most beautiful song. While the version on "Karibu" isn't as great as an earlier solo version on "In A Trance" or the version I saw at his show in Oberlin- he got the audience to sing along-, there is no question that it is one of the best songs of the Spring. In spite of extended movements away from the normal harmony in the middle, Loueke always manages to come back to the gorgeous chords of the song. If more people listened to "Nonvignon" the world would be a much happier place.

"The Remedy" by Kurt Rosenwinkel: The title track of Kurt Rosenwinkel's new live album from the Village Vanguard has the best groove of any jazz song I've heard all year, perhaps the best groove since the title track of Kenny Werner's "Lawn Chair Society," and the band is absolutely incredible. The major stand-out (with the exception of Rosenwinkel, saxophonist Mark Turner, drummer Eric Harland... hell, everybody in this band is a stand-out), for me at least, is pianist Aaron Goldberg, who, while groaning along a la Keith Jarrett, plays one of the simplest, funkiest, most brilliant motivic lines I've ever heard during his solo.

"Threnody" by Vijay Iyer: I've already talked at length about this particular track on this blog, twice. To put it simply, Rudresh Mahanthappa is the most innovative, violent saxophone player in jazz right now, and by the time he comes into the picture you've already been mesmerized by Iyer's interplay with bassist Stephen Crump.

"Wonderwall" by Brad Mehldau: Brad Mehldau, like Kurt Rosenwinkel, has been less than prolific in recent years; "Live," the latest from his trio, was worth the wait. "Wonderwall," a rhythmically interesting (the bass plays in a different time signature from the piano and drums; but the band meets up during the bridge, creating a sort of Steve Coleman vibe without sounding at all like Steve Coleman) cover of an Oasis tune, features Mehldau's usual gorgeous, funky, restrained piano playing. Mehldau, more than anyone else in the jazz world, understands that less is more, and he's come a long way since his note-heavy early records. His music manages to be complex enough to satisfy a jazz snob or music school student, but is simple and catchy enough to be accessible to just about anyone.

Tokyo Daytripper

2008-05-29T14:02:00.003-04:00

On a whole, Pat Metheny's discography is pretty spotty. Terrible missteps like "American Garage" or, well, just about anything else by the Pat Metheny Group coexist alongside masterpieces of quiet fusion like "80/81" or "Trio 99/00;" everybody already knows that Metheny's recent "Day Trip," his trio album with Antonio Sanchez and Christian McBride, is one of the good ones. For that reason, it should come as no surprise that "Tokyo Day Trip," a sort of live B-sides spin-off record (if those kinds of records even really exist in the jazz world) is stellar. As opposed to sounding like odds and ends from the "Day Trip" trio (which, essentially, it is), "Tokyo Day Trip" stands on it's own.

In spite of "Tokyo Day Trip" being very Pat Metheny, to the point where every track with the exception of the brilliant eastern dirge "Tromso" that opens the disc falls into one of Metheny's archetypes, it is also very good. Even "Inori," the Metheny Group-esque pentatonic ballad, manages to showcase a huge amount of emotion from Metheny and the band. In fact, emotion is one of the things that really sets this particular EP apart from much else in Metheny's discography; he manages to sound neither like a robotic technician nor a contrived melodramatic actor, his two most prevalent modes. Everything on "Tokyo Day Trip," like many of Metheny's great records (Read: "Bright Size Life") sounds as if it came from somewhere meaningful.

Taking every track into account, my personal favorite is "Back Arm and Back Charge," possibly the loudest thing to come out of the jazz world since the Nels Cline Singers unleashed "Confection" on their most recent album; Metheny tries to beat Cline at his own game, and almost succeeds. That said though, every performance on this EP is a highlight; "Traveling Fast" is an up-tempo tune highlighting Metheny's technique, and "The Night Becomes You" is beautiful. Highly Recommended if you can find it.

Next time I'm going to have my TOP FIVE(ish) JAZZ TUNES OF THE SPRING! So check back here in a couple days. Who will make the Jazz Monster's Top Ten? Esperanza Spalding? Ambrose Akinmusire? Someone you've actually heard of? Check back and find out...

Hey, Chico!

2008-05-26T23:57:00.003-04:00

Chico Hamilton is one of the two great 80+ warhorse drummers in the current jazz scene, the other being Roy Haynes. Hamilton, productive as always, has released two different albums under his own name, "Alternate Dimensions of El Chico" and "It's About Time;" the latter is an EP of dancehall remixes of Chico's music while the former is a new album from his trio, made with long-time band-mates Cary DeNigris (guitar) and Paul Ramsey (bass). The key difference between Hamilton and Haynes is the energy; Hamilton clearly cannot play the way he used to, while Haynes is not only capable, but willing to surround himself with big-name young players (Jaleel Shaw, Marcus Strickland) to keep his game up.

"Alternate Dimensions of El Chico," an album of Chico Hamilton remixes as done by DJs Soulfeast and Mark De Clive-Lowe, suffers from the same problematic inconsistency that just about any jazz remix album does; when it's good, it's good, but when it's bad, it's terrible. Take the two remixes of "Mysterious Maiden," for example. Both remixes (one of which is 12 minutes long, mind you) drag on for what seems like an eternity, and with nothing to show for it but repeating motifs. It's a shame that those two tracks are so bad, though, because almost everything else on the album is pretty good. "Je Ka Jo" and the album closer, "I'm Still Thirsty," both make you want to get out of your stuffy jazz critic chair and dance, while "El Toro" adds an interesting hook to the original tune. Who am I kidding? This album wasn't made for serious jazz listeners anyway, but for DJs in need of something fresh to spin.

I'm going to be brutally honest and say that Chico Hamilton's new trio album, "It's About Time," isn't stellar. It's unfocused and more than a little bit odd. But there are little glimmers of greatness about it; "What If," for example, features some great bass-guitar unison work, while "Nod to Gabor" (for Gabor Szabo, who got his start with Hamilton) has a ton of solo space for everybody. For a guitar trio album, however, there's something missing on most of the tracks; a good guitar trio should sound like more than three instruments (listen to just about anything Bill Frisell's done in the format), while for some reason here it sounds like there are less. For every track like "Nod to Gabor" or "6/8 For CH," which sounds like 60s Blue Note crossover jazz in the best way possible, there's a track like "Paul," which begins by searching for something that never materializes. I don't know that I can quite recommend either album, but I would say that a few of the tracks I mentioned from each are definitely worth a listen if you can find them.

Next time I think I'm going to have a review of Daniel Zamir's new "I Believe," which was released today. If not, you can probably expect a review of Pat Metheny's "Day Trip Tokyo" or Marcus Miller's "Marcus."

Zydeco Clowns and Israeli Ex-Patriates

2008-05-25T11:58:00.004-04:00

John Ellis and Third World Love have virtually nothing in common in terms of music, although if you wanted to play six degrees of separation they have both played with Mike Moreno at some point in their careers (John Ellis on Moreno's most recent album; Avishai Cohen with Moreno on Yosvany Terry's "Metamorphosis"). Granted, that sort of random ephemera doesn't really help anyone, or tell anyone what either group sounds like, but it's illustrative of how small the jazz world is during the Monk generation (neither Ellis nor the members of Third World Love went to the Monk Institute, but they've both played with people who have, and Cohen was a finalist in the Monk Institute's trumpet competition in the late 90s). Either way, while the aesthetics of "New Blues" and "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow" are totally different, they're both extremely interesting and worth listening to.

One track, titled "Zydeco Clowns on the Lawn," neatly summarizes the entirety of John Ellis' "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow." After opening up with squeals and other various clown noises, the track moves into a groove partly anchored by Gary Versace's organ, but also partly anchored by what any sane person initially thinks is a bass. A few seconds later, when it becomes clear that this funky music is actually being bottomed out by Matt Perrine's sousaphone (If you only click one link, click that one, Perrine's version of "The Washington Post March" is brilliant), it comes into focus that perhaps this is not music for sane people. This is not a problem, as far as I'm concerned; a surplus of good music isn't necessarily made for (or by, for that matter) people with good heads on their shoulders, and this music is too fun to ignore just because it's a little zany. There's almost no point in going into specific tracks, because somehow Ellis manages to give them perfect descriptions in their titles (even, somehow, when a track is called "Tattooed Teen Waltzes With Grandma"). This album is well worth a listen, maybe the jazz summer-party-record of 2008.

Third World Love, Avishai Cohen's band with Israeli partners-in-crime Yonatan Avishai (piano), Omer Avital (bass), and Daniel Freedman (drums), has the most in common with John Ellis on the title track of their "New Blues;" a mixture of middle eastern flavor and contemporary jazz harmony, but with a funky New Orleans beat, as well as an infectious melody, the track soars. And everything on the record is that good. While Avishai's sister, clarinet and saxophone player Anat, has been getting the most mention in the last two years ("New Blues" was released on her record label, Anzic) because of her constant stream of new music, Avishai deserves a lot more space in the trades. Last year he released "After the Big Rain," easily one of my favorite releases of 2007, and with "New Blues" he has staked a claim for Third World Love as one of the top young bands in jazz.

I don't know what I'll have next time to be honest (I'm living moment to moment with this blog), but expect something here on Tuesday. Maybe I'll do my "Top Five Tunes of the Spring" a few days before I had initially planned if I can't find "Esperanza" anywhere.

James Carter in the "Present Tense"

2008-05-23T00:09:00.005-04:00

I have a friend who likes to describe James Carter as the best, greasiest, most intensely fatty soul food of the jazz world. There is no doubt in my mind that that description is accurate; if you have too much you'll get sick, but when you're in a certain mood nothing can really satisfy you but a good helping of JC. This is just as true of "Present Tense" as it is of any Carter album, but for a number of reasons "Present Tense" isn't just another Carter album. For one thing, he stays away from saxophones on three tracks (he plays flute on "Dodo's Bounce" and bass clarinet on both "Bro. Dolphy" and "Shadowy Sands"), and as opposed to prominently featuring his tenor and soprano playing as he normally does, he devotes a few absolutely burnin' tracks to his baritone.

"Present Tense" is of a certain aesthetic that belongs to James Carter alone- a sort of time-warp that manages to reinvent 50s Blue Note hard-bop as it would have been played by a free jazz obsessed 90s technician who can do all of the things expected of a free jazz obsessed 90s technician. Many people think of Carter's playing more as a series of random tricks he can do on his instruments (insanely high altissimo squawks, slap tonguing, etc) than any sort of legitimate harmonic and melodic invention. While that may be fair to a degree, Carter has never struck me as the sort of person looking to impress jazz critics. Carter was never set to be the next Coltrane; I think Carter falls more in the tradition of entertainers like Rahsaan Roland Kirk, another multi-reedist, who would sing into his flute and play two saxophones at once.

While Carter may not be particularly innovative, one listen to a track like "Rapid Shave," featuring his baritone playing, could convert anyone but the most jaded Brecker-ite. His playing is just so joyful, and catchy, and greasy, that it makes you want to see him regain his stature as Downbeat's permanent baritone saxophone critic's poll winner (he lost to Gary Smulyan last year for the first time in God knows how long). Of his sidemen, the most memorable is Dwight Adams, who deserves much wider exposure. He played brilliantly on Carter's 2004 album "Live at Baker's Keyboard Lounge," and he plays just as brilliantly here. His playing is totally different from Carter's; as opposed to using tricks, Adams is only interested in creating gorgeous, simple melodies. On "Tenderly," the closer, he plays one of the most elegant solos I've heard recently from anyone. This album is highly recommended for anyone (this includes musicians who do impressions) who thinks that jazz is just stuffy intellectual gallery music.

Notes on the New Downbeat: Miguel Zenon's "Beautiful Combination" Adds Up to Less Than the Sum of its Parts, In My Opinion

2008-05-22T00:20:00.005-04:00

First off, why does everyone love Miguel Zenon so much? Seriously, if you love Miguel Zenon comment and explain it to me, because after having heard "Jibaro" (I couldn't find "Awake" anywhere) and having seen him live twice (once with his quartet, once with SFJazz Collective; both very recently) all I got was that he could shed scale patterns really fast (like, really fast). Anyway though, here's Stefon Harris, possibly beating Stanley Crouch at the ridiculous praise game, talking about Miguel Zenon:

"Miguel has a beautiful combination of all the elements it takes to move a human being"

Uh... what?
On a totally different note, though, I was really glad to see Esperanza Spalding get an article to herself, her "Junjo" was great, and while I haven't heard her new album "Esperanza" yet, the tracks on her myspace are setting it up to be a real doozy. Also, props to Downbeat for featuring Mostly Other People Do The Killing in the "Players" section. They're awesome.

Also, Jamey Aebersold and David Baker (both of whom were involved in this year's IAJE conference) can't tell the difference between Sonny Rollins and David Murray? Is this some sort of bad dream? No wonder IAJE had to declare bankruptcy...

Tomorrow I'll either have a review of James Carter's "Present Tense" or a double bill review of John Ellis' "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow" and Third World Love's "New Blues," all three of which are absolutely killin'. I've said it a billion times, but this spring season is one to remember.

Miles From India, but Not So Far Off

2008-05-21T00:04:00.003-04:00

For some reason the idea of "high concept" has infiltrated the jazz world recently. Many albums seem to be created through sentence long pitches ("Dee Dee Bridgewater meets Africa," "Chick and Gary reunited," "Wynton Marsalis and Willie Nelson, two American legends," etc.) as opposed to artistic drive. That said, though, a lot of those albums turn out to be extremely good; a lot of the best albums of last year fell in that category, including Dee Dee Bridgewater's aforementioned "Red Earth" and even, oddly enough, Robert Glasper's "In My Element" ("young piano player takes on contemporary R&B without smoothing out the jazz part"). "Miles From India," a new album from too many different artists to name here, is without a question one of those albums. The sentence long "sell" for the album is as follows: "Miles Davis sidemen play Miles Davis tunes with Indian classical musicians."

For the most part, that encapsulation holds. With the exception of Rudresh Mahanthappa and Wallace Roney, who are neither Miles' sidemen nor Indian musicians (Mahanthappa is Indian-American, which I suppose counts, and Roney is the clear Miles stand-in), everyone here has played with Miles or works out of India. The really odd thing about this album, however, is that neither aesthetic really takes over the album. Everything manages to sound like an outtake from one of Miles' mid-70s records while still showing Indian influence in troves. Even the "Kind of Blue" stalwarts (with the notable exception of a pretty bloodless "Blue in Green") sound both very Miles and very Indian. "So What," which contains some of Chick Corea's best piano work I've heard in a long time, opens with Indian classical rhythmic chanting courtesy of Shankar Mahadevan and Sikkil Gurucharan, before moving into a 9/8 jam, while the famous melody of "All Blues" is played on sitar before some pyrotechnic saxophone work from Mahanthappa and Gary Bartz takes the tune out.

The tracks that don't work, however, such as "Blue in Green" and a "fast" version of "Ife," seem to go on forever. The playing is pretty good, but overall the tracks are just too jam-intensive. That said, on a whole "Miles From India" is a pretty good album; the few duds don't serve to drag the entire two disc affair down, and the ability to hear Pete Cosey play guitar for the first time in God-knows-how-long makes it worth sitting them through. As with any of these particularly good "high concept" jazz records, I'd recommend it to anyone who hears the concept and thinks "wow, that sounds like it'd be killin'."

Next time I'll have a review of James Carter's "Present Tense," and perhaps a review of John Ellis' "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow."

Tom Scott's New Album Redefines "Meh;" Dianne Reeves' New Album Redefines "Blech"

2008-05-19T20:13:00.006-04:00

I know, I know; amidst all of the good albums out in recent months, why review two albums that are bound to be terrible? Because, in all honesty, these are the two albums- not "Tragicomic," not "Twilight World," not "History, Mystery-" that are going to sell in troves. And I'm here to tell you that one of them surpassed my expectations by about a hair, and the other one was soul-suckingly bad. So here goes; capsule reviews of Tom Scott's "Cannon Re-Loaded," a tribute to Cannonball Adderley, and Dianne Reeves' "When You Know."

Anyone with youtube knows that Tom Scott can play bop. I'd go so far as to say that anyone with youtube knows that Tom Scott can play bop well (depending on which of those videos you watch, Tom Scott either kills Ernie Watts or is killed by Ernie Watts, but he plays well on both). But when I heard that Tom Scott, the reedman behind smooth-jazz impresarios The LA Express, had an album of Cannonball Adderley tunes coming out, and that bass-slapster and Dave Sanborn partner in crime Marcus Miller was going to play bass, I have to admit I was a bit scared. You know what though? It isn't terrible. That said, it isn't good, either. Occupying some sort of odd nexus between jazz tunes and smoove-jamz, certain songs on "Cannon Re-Loaded" work much better than others. "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy" grooves without being overly slippery, but "Work Song" suffers from Miller's painful slap bass line. The saving grace of most of the album is George Duke, who by now is probably used to occupying this odd little area, but Terence Blanchard and Tom Scott both play more than adequately for the material. I'd say that if you saw the title and were immediately predisposed to buy it, it's worth it; the playing is good, and it isn't overly smooth. If you saw the title and thought, "hm, Tom Scott, who's that," don't. It isn't very good.

George Duke, who redeems much of "Cannon Re-Loaded" is, as chief producer and arranger, at fault for Dianne Reeves' new album, "When You Know." I say "at fault" because "When You Know" is so bad it will probably cause some listeners- mostly those who got into Dianne Reeves based on the pretty good "Good Night and Good Luck" soundtrack- to have a passionate need to find whoever is responsible for this trash and find a way to make sure they never make anything like it again. There is no point in going into specific tracks, because with the exception of a single track (the very good straight-ahead "Social Call") everything sounds the same; corny, overly-orchestrated retreads of R. Kelly's "Bump N' Grind," as reinvented for the viagra generation. Please don't buy this album. If you do, Diane Reeves will probably think this was a good direction for her. It wasn't.

I don't know what I'm going to review next time. Marc Feldman's reissue? Marcus Miller's new album? "Esperanza?" I guess I'll figure it out then.

Bill Frisell Smashes, Scatters, and Comes Out With His Best Album in More Than Ten Years

2008-05-17T16:44:00.005-04:00

I'm going to admit, point blank, that I am of the belief that Bill Frisell can do no wrong. As a sideman, he is one of a small handful of musicians in any idiom that can make any note beautiful; as a leader he has a consistency only matched by Brad Mehldau and his often cohort Paul Motian. So, now that I'm through with all of that praise of Bill Frisell's recent output, let me say this: "History, Mystery" is better in every single way than just about anything he's done as a leader or a sideman at least since 1997's severely underrated "Nashville;" maybe the best since his magnum opus, 1992's "Have a Little Faith." However tempting it is to keep those two albums in mind when buying this, however, those comparisons are pretty useless when it comes to "History, Mystery." It has more in common with the free-wheeling little big band tracks of, say, "Before We Were Born," but even that comparison barely scratches the surface.

"History, Mystery" is just too good, and covers too much stylistic ground, for comparisons to anything in Frisell's or anyone else's discography. The album is designed as a suite for an octet (violin, viola, cello, saxophone and trumpet along with guitar, bass and drums) as opposed to a set of unrelated songs, and each of the two CDs makes up its own clear half of the suite; the first disc is bookended by versions of the ethereal tango "Probability Cloud," while the second is bookended by versions of the ethereal country waltz ("ethereal" is a good word to describe much of this album) "Monroe." In addition, various short themes (two of "Question" and "Answer," a few "Struggle"s, a couple of "Lazy Robinson"s, etc) show up repeatedly throughout the two discs.

Of the lengthier tracks, my personal favorite is a cacophonous version of the old Lee Konitz war-horse "Subconscious-Lee," but my love of Konitz' work of the 50s probably makes me impartial on that front. Everybody plays brilliantly, and the sidemen include Tony Scherr, Kenny Wolleson, and Jenny Scheinman. Greg Tardy, the saxophone player, shines in particular on a stand-out solo on Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come." The individual tracks are not so important on this album as the way they fit together, however, and the whole of this album is much greater than the sum of its many brilliant parts; just listen to the way "Probability Cloud" segues into "Probability Cloud Pt 2," or the way the formless "Monroe" finds form in the groove of "Lazy Robinson."

"History, Mystery" has undoubtedly made its way onto my list of favorite Frisell albums, along with "Nashville," "Have A Little Faith," and 2005's "East/West." As opposed to making another trio album (as in "East/West" or "Bill Frisell, Ron Carter, Paul Motian") or reverting back to using country as a springboard for somewhat thought-provoking, yet a little to pleasant jazz (as in "The Willies" or "Good Dog, Happy Man"), Frisell has taken a real risk by releasing a two disc jazz suite for octet, and in doing so has created a brilliant album. I have a feeling that, along with Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic," "History, Mystery" will stand at the end of the year as one of the year's best. The only thing that the two albums have in common is that neither sounds quite like anything else in jazz right now, and while there are clear reference points in some of the artists' earlier work, the two albums exist in their own musical worlds. Highly recommended for anyone interested in guitars, the future of jazz, or just about anything.

Also, please continue to comment! I'm sorry, Dave, I got a little carried away last time; the whole thing about "embarrassing yourself" by posting was more of a joke than anything else. As for my opinion of Eigsti's album, I stand by it; it's not that I don't think he's a great piano player, I just think he needs a little bit more time to develop into a great musician. Next time I think I'll probably post a review of Tom Scott's "Cannon-Reloaded." Or maybe the new Dianne Reeves album. Maybe I'll rant about how ridiculous the Miguel Zenon article in the new Downbeat is. I dunno, there'll be something here though, so check back!

Eigsti Needs to Pack His Knives and Go; Roberts Hits the Nail on the Head

2008-05-15T13:31:00.005-04:00

Do you ever wish that Top Chef were about jazz instead of food? Well, I do. Just imagine, a bunch of young, up-and-coming jazz musicians duking it out for some sort of meaningless title... Who would come out on top? Would it be Walter Smith III, with his updates of old school hard-bop? Or would it be Robert Glasper, the brilliant young piano player who, after working with Mos Def, has perfected a mix of contemporary odd-meter R&B with older jazz? I hadn't heard of (let alone heard anything by) Matana Roberts until a few weeks ago when I read about her new "Chicago Project;" after listening to that album a couple times, I think she could be a wild-card in this kind of competition. After hearing "Let it Come to You," however, I think its time for Taylor Eigsti to get kicked out so he can go home, take what he's learned, and work on his craft.

Its not that "Let it Come to You" is a bad album; he plays well, his ideas are pretty good, and his band (Reuben Rogers, Eric Harland, and fellow prodigy Julian Lage) is great throughout. That said, after hearing Eigsti say a billion times that he doesn't want to be judged as a prodigy, he just can't stand up next to contemporaries like Glasper and Jason Moran. The problem is more conceptual than anything else; as I just said, he plays well and his ideas are pretty good. His work just isn't innovative; anyone who's heard Brad Mehldau's "Anything Goes" has heard Eigsti's take on standards. His originals, however, are pretty good (particularly the "Fall Back Plan" suite towards the end of the album) if not stellar. Eigsti has a great album in his future whenever he finds his voice as a piano player, but he just isn't there yet.

Matana Roberts' "The Chicago Project" is one of the best albums so far this year; its completely different from any of the other records from young people ("Karibu," "Prelude: To Cora," "Let it Come to You") that are getting a lot of press right now. While a large part of that has to do with influence (very few young musicians are so blatantly influenced by 60s free jazz), Roberts has a very distinctive voice. Her wide vibrato (barely heard from musicians since Albert Ayler) and her clearly AACM-influenced compositions just sound different from anything else coming out right now. Take the three "Birdhouse" tracks, for example; each one is a different duet with tenor saxophonist Fred Anderson, and the interplay between the two is practically telepathic. These totally free duets show the thought-process behind this album more than any of the composed heads; Roberts is more interested in interplay and improvisation than composed work. Highly recommended for those with curious ears.

I don't know exactly what I'm gonna have next time to be honest; maybe a review of Tom Scott's new album "Cannon Re-Loaded," or of the new reissue of Marc Feldman's "Music for Violin Alone..." Probably not a double review though, they have nothing in common. Also, as always, feel free to comment if you love Taylor Eigsti and think I can suck it! You may be wrong, but as long as the "comment" button is there, you're welcome to embarrass yourself in this forum.

Library of Congress Records Herbie Hancock's Move to Cheesiness for Posterity; Response to Reader's Comment

2008-05-14T21:51:00.003-04:00

So, out of all of Herbie Hancock's albums that could possibly be chosen ("Maiden Voyage," anyone?) to be recorded for posterity, the Library of Congress have decided to save "Headhunters." I mean, don't get me wrong, I get it. It was (and I believe still is) his best-selling record and probably has his two most famous performances on it ("Chameleon" and "Watermelon Man").

In addition, its required listening for anyone interested in jazz (it may well be the most popular early fusion recording by anyone who played with Miles), and every young player gets stuck playing "Chameleon" at awful jam sessions over and over and over... But just because its required listening doesn't make it any good. Or worthy of saving over, say, "Empyrian Isles." Or "Mwandashi." Hell, "Fat Albert Rotunda" is better than "Headhunters..."

On another note, since someone commented (seriously, check it out) on my post about the AJJ's annual awards, I figured I should respond. I have heard Steve Lehman's "On Meaning" (I haven't heard the other one yet), and it is definitely pretty killin'. As for Vijay and Rudresh, the former released "Still Life With Commentator," a collaboration with Mike Ladd, although I suppose the AJJ would probably ignore it due to its being more electronic music than jazz (even though it does have some great piano work).

Tomorrow morning or afternoon I'll have reviews of Matana Roberts' "The Chicago Project" and Taylor Eigsti's "Let It Come to You," the first of which is actually produced by Vijay Iyer. Also, always feel free to comment whether you agree with me, disagree with me, feel like professing your undying love for my critical ear, or just want to let the world know that people actually read my blog.

John Zorn's Hat Trick

2008-05-13T17:14:00.005-04:00

John Zorn sure isn't who he used to be; folks who know John Zorn from his "Big Gundown" days would be in for a shock at his recent output. As opposed to the schizophrenic channel surfing of "Naked City" or the angry bursts of noise characterized by "Spy Vs. Spy," John Zorn has taken his downtown credibility and used it to create a forum for new music inspired by old Jewish sounds. As opposed to consolidating his (well-earned) rep as a noise-maker, Zorn barely plays saxophone these days; he's much more interested in writing music for his many performing ensembles and in using his venue, The Stone, as a veritable land of milk and honey for the downtown scene. One can't criticize him for the volume of his output though; he's released three (!) albums so far this year, not including his one-off collaboration with Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson.

The best of these three albums is "The Dreamers," by Zorn's electric Masada band, and it is also the only one to actually feature Zorn's saxophone playing. While it takes its time to unfold (the first track to really gel is the fourth track, "Anulikwutsayl," which prominently features Marc Ribot's guitar), when it finally does it never lets up. Marc Ribot and Jamie Saft (keyboard) manage to create a sort of Jewish-music-meets-surf-rock-meets-avant-garde vibe which sounds odd on paper but works brilliantly on record. Zorn himself burns on "Toys," a kitschy, nearly free-improvisatory exploration of a variety of sounds and styles too numerous to name here. Highly recommended.

"Lucifer," the tenth installment of original compositions from Zorn's recent "Book of Angels" (the sequel to his "Book of Masada"), is played by the Bar Kokhba Sextet, which also features Ribot and percussionist Cyro Baptista. The album isn't nearly as out there as "The Dreamers," and has more in common with chamber music than jazz. While that isn't necessarily a bad thing, the group doesn't move the idiom into new areas like it did on its installment of Zorn's "Fiftieth Birthday Celebration" series, and the album suffers because at time it seems boring. That said, Zorn's compositions are good, if not as stellar as those from his Book of Masada and so I'd give this album a tepid recommendation; if you love Zorn's current work, its still worth picking up.

Zorn's new edition of his "Filmworks" series, "Vol. 19: The Rain Horse," features Greg Cohen on bass, Mark Feldman on violin and Rob Burger on piano. The music is absolutely sublime; instead being all over the place as on "The Dreamers," Zorn's compositions here are beautiful in a quiet, understated way. Its not jazz in any sense of the word, but being that Zorn released so many albums I figured it was worth listening to, and I'm glad that I did. This one is definitely recommended for anyone who would like to hear a different side of Zorn, or for anyone who wants a way into his more recent classical work.

Next time I think I'll have a review of Matana Roberts' "Chicago Project," but that could change as a ton of albums were released today (including "History Mystery," by Bill Frisell, an old Zorn cohort).

AAJ: AJJ Announces Nominees, IAJE Folds

2008-05-11T13:35:00.005-04:00

So the latest news from allaboutjazz.com isn't all depressing; there's nothing depressing about the fact that the International Association for Jazz Education, overextending itself like a prospective homeowner in 2005, declared bankruptcy or the fact that Vijay Iyer was MIA from the Association of Jazz Journalists' list of nominees for their annual awards... I would say that jazz is in great shape, wouldn't you?

First thing's first: IAJE was (and is) a great organization, and while I've never gone to any of their conferences, I was seriously thinking of skipping school to go to their conference in New York a couple of years ago. The declaration of bankruptcy comes as a result of IAJE seriously overextending itself by starting a program it couldn't afford and holding its most recent conference in Toronto, where nobody attends. A recent fundraiser to recoup these losses was too little too late. IAJE has done a good job of keeping jazz educators around the country on the same page. So, you know, goodbye IAJE. You may not get the same treatment in your obituaries as Jimmy Giuffre did, but then again he didn't bring it on himself.

As for the AJJ, an organization that seems to pride itself this award season on its love for young musicians (woah! An entire category for up-and-comers? Nah...), has managed to let Vijay Iyer, a two time downbeat rising star artist and composer of the year, slip through the cracks and not get nominated for anything. His cohort, Rudresh Mahanthappa, was not nominated for anything either, although much less established saxophonists like Steve Lehman made it onto the list for alto saxophonist of the year... huh? I could understand if the establishment journalists skewed too old, like they do in Downbeat, or perhaps if they skewed too mainstream (also, for the most part, like they do in Downbeat), but there seems to be absolutely no rhyme or reason to the way the AJJ decides on its nominees.

That said, at least some people I like (Mathew Shipp, nominated for composer of the year, for example, or Mostly Other People Do the Killing, nominated for small group of the year) have been nominated for things that they wouldn't even make the finalists list for in Downbeat.

Anyway, that's the news from the jazz world. "Disheartening" isn't the right word; maybe "hellish." Next time expect reviews of the new John Zorn albums. I promise they're on their way.

Tenor Madness: Reissues from Wayne Shorter and Ike Quebec

2008-05-09T12:31:00.004-04:00

Blue Note's essential (and cheap) "Rudy Van Gelder" series has reissued pretty much every classic Blue Note album from the fifties and sixties at this point, and so they've begun the transition from reissuing classics to releasing some of the great forgotten gems of their catalogue from that period. Two of the most recent (both of these were reissued in the past two months) of these have been Ike Quebec's "Blue and Sentimental" and Wayne Shorter's "The Soothsayer," so here are some capsule reviews of those.

"Blue and Sentimental" is without a question Ike Quebec's best album as a leader, which stems from Quebec's absolutely killer rhythm section of Grant Green, Philly Joe Jones, and Paul Chambers. Quebec himself is in top form, although once you've heard one performance from Ike Quebec you've heard them all. Of particular note is his intense playing on the title track, a Basie favorite, and on the up-tempo closer "Like," in which Green also plays brilliantly. Recommended for those of you who have a thing for Jazz at the Philharmonic-type neo-swing.

Wayne Shorter's "The Soothsayer" doesn't necessarily count as an album from the sixties; while it was recorded in 1965 it wasn't actually released until the late seventies. Granted, the album it was shelved for- "The All-Seeing Eye-" is also pretty great, but with a line-up like this (Shorter, Freddie, McCoy, Ron, Tony- if you don't know those people by first name, you don't know jazz- and the perennially under-heard and underrated James Spaulding, who plays his ass off on this) and Shorter's brilliant originals (particularly "Angola," and the title track) there's no reason to think of it as a leftover from Shorter's sixties work. The best track actually isn't a Shorter original but an arrangement of Jean Sibelius's "Valse Triste," which Shorter called a big influence on his own "Danse Cadaverous" from the groundbreaking "Speak No Evil." In spite of the melody and changes having been written years before for a different idiom, the track fits in beautifully. Highly recommended.

Next time I'll try and have reviews of John Zorn's three (THREE!) new albums so far this year, but if not there will probably some kind of snarky commentary on recent jazz news (of which there is, as always, much to snark about) between now and then.

Casually Introducing Ambrose Akinmusire

2008-05-07T15:46:00.007-04:00

Ambrose Akinmusire, based on his work as a side-man on various brilliant recent albums (Vijay Iyer's "In What Language" comes to mind, as does Walter Smith's "Casually Introducing Walter Smith," but we'll get to that one a little later) and on his recent wins in both of the two major trumpet competitions (the Carmine Caruso competition and the Thelonius Monk competition), is probably the young trumpet player of the moment. In spite of this fact, he has waited up until now ("In What Language" came out in 2003) to release a solo record, paying more attention to work as a sideman and on school at the Monk Institute. "Prelude: To Cora" is a pretty good record; the sidemen (including Walter Smith and Aaron Parks) play their asses off, the compositions are fairly modern sounding amalgamations of jazz (read: hard-bop and post-bop) with R+B and hip-hop, and the production only adds to these two things without getting in the way.

If you already want to buy this album based on what I just said, by all means, stop reading now. What is about to follow is a personal (and unpopular, as far as I can tell) opinion of mine about this record.

All of the stuff I mentioned above is true, but the problem is that while listening to "Prelude: To Cora," I experienced deja vu. I didn't think much of it until I realized a few minutes later that it is the same record as "Casually Introducing Walter Smith III." The three major players on "Prelude-" Akinmusire, Smith, and Aaron Parks- all play (the same) major roles on "Casually Introducing." The harmonic language that makes up Akinmusire's compositions on "Prelude" is the same harmonic language that Smith uses in his own compositions. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking "but there's clearly a difference between the two records! 'Prelude' has a vibes player! And there's much more variation on Smith's album!" Both of those things are true. Chris Dingman does not play on "Casually Introducing," although if he did it would not have been much of a different album. And the variation on "Casually Introducing-" which is, for the most part, missing from "Prelude-" was part of what made it such a great record.

This problem is illustrated best by "HumSong (skidrow anthem)," which, ironically, also happens to be one of the prettiest songs on the album. It opens up with a statement of the melody, followed by a section in which an organ trades with another rhythm section instrument (in this case vibes), which itself is followed by trading between saxophone and trumpet, and then the melody is taken out with (what sounds like) sequenced percussion. Sound familiar? That's the arrangement of "Kate Song," one of the prettiest songs on Walter Smith's "Casually Introducing." There is a remixed version on Akinmusire's website that is much more interesting; even though the playing is the same, the fully sequenced percussion adds a sense of urgency that is lacking from the album version.

But seriously, the playing is great- Parks, Smith, Akinmusire, and Dingman are all in top form- and for at least that reason you should probably ignore everything I just wrote about this album, especially if you liked "Casually Introducing." If you do not, however, have "Casually Introducing Walter Smith III," you should go and buy that album; it serves as a better introduction to this group of musicians (and includes guest spots from Robert Glasper, Lionel Loueke, Gretchen Parlato and Lage Lund).

Leftovers: "One Peace" and "Surfin' USSR"

2008-05-05T12:39:00.004-04:00

When I say that these two albums are "leftovers," I'm not suggesting in any way that they aren't worthwhile, or that they should be passed on. Quite the opposite, actually, these two albums are kind of like the tasty little hard to get at morsels that people are usually too lazy to find, or too full to eat. "One Peace" by the Gregg August Sextet and "Surfin' USSR" by Farmers Market have virtually nothing in common other than that they are both good records that are seriously in danger of being overlooked during what is shaping up to be an incredibly good Spring season for jazz (and that they both happen to be full of brilliant arrangements, but that's just a fluke).

Gregg August has played bass for a ton of major latin jazz artists (Paquito D'Rivera and Chico O'Farrell among them), but if "One Peace" is any sort of indicator, his real love is old-school blue note style hard bop. The tunes themselves are nothing particularly special, but between some great three-horn arrangements (written by August himself) and some should-be-famous sidemen (Yosvany Terry or Stacy Dillard on tenor sax, Myron Walden on alto, Luis Perdomo on piano, E.J. Strickland on drums), the record really sizzles, particularly on the slow number "In Dedication," on which Walden and Dillard are given ample time for solos. August himself plays a pretty great solo in a modal Charlie Haden sort of vein on "Change of Course." Recommended.

"Surfin' USSR" is the fourth album from Norway's Farmers Market, a group that sounds sort of like Naked-City-goes-to-a Balkan-wedding. If that description turns you off (perhaps you have a bad childhood memory of a Balkan wedding), you should still be advised that "Surfin' USSR" is probably the most fun record I've heard all year, and one of the most technically chopsy. Farmers Market has the ability to change tempos and styles at the drop of a dime, and Stian Carstensen's compositions are extremely involved, in spite of the hilarious titles ("From Prussia with Love" is an odd-meter goof on the James Bond theme). This is another record that probably won't be coming to record store near you, but if you see it out there its worth getting or at least hearing. Highly Recommended.

That's all for now, but next time I'll have a review up for trumpet player Ambrose Akinmusire's "Prelude: to Cora." You can hear a version of one of the tracks (not the version from the album, but actually way more interesting) as the background music on his website.

Marc Ribot's "Mean-Tempered Guitar"

2008-05-02T14:27:00.003-04:00

For those of you who are not familiar with Ribot's work, he is a classically trained guitar player who has played with everyone from Elvis Costello to The Lounge Lizards, and was one of the four major downtown guitar players featured on John Zorn's "The Big Gundown" (along with Bill Frisell, Arto Lindsay and Vernon Reid). His most recent project was an album ("Spiritual Unity") comprised of music written or inspired by the great free-jazz saxophonist Albert Ayler.

Marc Ribot's new album, "Exercises in Futility," is not a jazz record by any particular stretch; as far as I can tell very few notes on the album are improvised, and the vibe is much more in tune with contemporary classical music. However, in spite of the fact that it is not very "jazz," it is very "Marc Ribot," and so a review of it should fit here along with anything else. "Exercises in Futility" is, instead, a series of impossibly hard etudes (the "Exercises in Futility" of the title; Ribot described it as a sort of "Mean-Tempered Guitar" in an interview with allaboutjazz.com) on extended guitar technique and a final 9 minute improvisation ("The Joy of Repetition") built on some of the ideas from the etudes.

Ribot is such a great musician and guitar player that even hearing him play these technical etudes is a joy; he manages to imbue feeling into even the most clinical tracks ("#11 Ascending") and each etude has its own clear identity. That said, however, obviously this is not an album for anyone who has any kind of dislike of atonal music (Ribot has never gone out of his way to make his music easily accessible). Once one can get past that, though, there is a lot to get out of this album and I think that it could be a real eye-opener for guitar players (jazz, rock, classical or otherwise); the technique used by Ribot on "#8 Groove?" in particular sounds like it could be useful. I'd give this one a tempered recommendation; if you know and like Ribot, you very well may like this album (I did), but if you aren't into New York's Stone scene or aren't interested in hearing someone play guitar etudes for an hour, this one probably isn't for you.

Next time I'll hopefully have reviews of the new albums from Gregg August and from Farmer's Market, two good albums I feel are probably going to be overshadowed by all of the high profile albums of the recent (and coming; James Carter, Taylor Eigsti, and Bill Frisell all have albums out in the coming weeks) months.

"You Are There" Kills, Just Not in a Good Way

2008-04-30T01:00:00.005-04:00

The death in the title does not refer to the career of either Roberta Gambarini or Hank Jones; they are both too well-established at this point for that, and the magazines seem to love this album. Nor does it refer to the Emarcy label; for what it is, this record will probably make a lot of money, maybe even get nominated for some grammies. The death in the title refers to my own death, due to boredom, about halfway through this record. I was jolted back by an energetic reading of "Suppertime," which, while incredible in the context of an album bogged down by so much painful cliche and balladry so flat as to be kosher for passover that not even the great Hank Jones can save it, would sound just as painfully cliched in any other context.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I have some sort of prejudice against vocal jazz (although, admittedly, I do); it's not so much that its a bad jazz album (which it is- especially terrible in light of 2007's great "Kids" duet album Jones did with Joe Lovano) but that it's a terrible, boring vocal jazz album. My girlfriend once called Brad Mehldau's "Art of the Trio Vol. 3" (I believe I've mentioned before that it is my favorite record of his) "good dinner music," which it is, and I think a lot of people will think of "You Are There" as good dinner music, which, I suppose, it is also. Gambarini's voice is pleasing, and Jones tinkles away at the piano like he always does, but don't get me wrong, this album is nothing more than dinner music.

There have been great recent vocal jazz records recently (Gretchen Parlato's self titled debut springs to mind, as does Herbie Hancock's Grammy winning "River," on which half the tracks had vocals), but this is not one of them. I'd buy this album if you plan on having a dinner party where people don't talk too loudly but still have no interest in paying attention to the music, or if you don't already have any album by, say, Diana Krahl, and think that the pleasing sounds of a female jazz singer singing the same way as any other female jazz singer could be therapeutic. If neither of these applies to you, avoid it like the plague.

Also: Jimmy Giuffre died a few days ago. He was a brilliant saxophonist and composer whose innovations with his trio helped pave the way for free music, albeit a quiet, lyrical strain of free music. If you are interested, there is a video of him with his trio (Jim Hall and Steve Swallow round it out) on youtube, and a well-written obituary can be found here.

"Free" is Just Another Word for "Nothing Left to Lose"

2008-04-27T16:04:00.005-04:00

An odd development of the last twenty years or so has been the adoption of free jazz language into the vernacular of straight-ahead music, and of the adoption of a more straight-ahead approach to free music. After classics of totally free group improvisation like John Coltrane's "Ascension," free jazz musicians realized that there was no where left to go but back in as early as Charlie Haden's 1969 classic "Liberation Music Orchestra." Two recent releases, "Urban Mythology Vol. 1" by the Free Form Funky Freqs and "Door" by Fieldwork, and one reissue of a classic of 90s free jazz, Matthew Shipp's "Multiplication Table," explore the concept of structured free music at length.

"Urban Mythology" is the most fun of the three records, and ironically the band's members are the oldest; two of the three members (Jamaladeen Tacuma on bass and G. Calvin Weston on drums) have spent time in Ornette Coleman's Prime Time outfit, and the other (guitarist Vernon Reid) has worked with everyone from Ronald Shannon Jackson to Bill Frisell. "Urban Mythology" is a funky record with more in common with bluesy classic rock than free jazz, and partly for that reason something feels trivial about it. To me, at least, "free jazz party record" sounds like something of an oxymoron, and while the playing is uniformly good, tracks like "Chump Champ Chunk" and "Get Your Legs On" seem to be trying a bit too hard. That said, if booty bass, power chords, and free jazz pedigrees are your thing this one is worth checking out.

Fieldwork, something of a power trio of young musicians, including Vijay Iyer (piano), Tyshawn Sorey (drums) and Steve Lehman (alto saxophone), is free mostly in the way these compositions were created: each member came in with works of their own, which were then reworked by the trio as a whole. This concept works surprisingly well; its impossible to tell which compositions are Sorey's, Lehman's or Iyer's without looking up the credits. Like The Freqs, the playing is all around excellent, but unlike The Freqs, it never sounds forced into a groove. Tracks only last as long as they have to, some ending after three minutes while others go on for up to eight. An interesting record by an interesting trio. Recommended.

HatOlogy is reissuing a number of classics in underground improvised music (look out for reviews of Paul Bley's "12 (+60) In a Row" and John Zorn, Bill Frisell, and George Lewis's "News for Lulu" if I can get my hands on them), but the stand-out is Matthew Shipp's "Multiplication Table," a classic of post-modern 90s free jazz. Shipp violently tears apart a number of songs, both standards and originals, but the best performance on the album is his nearly five minute solo piano intro to "C Jam Blues," drastically reharmonized and battered out by Shipp as if his life depended on it. Later on in the track, as Shipp is joined by drummer Suzie Ibarra and bassist William Parker, the song is given a trio treatment. Parker's playing on "Zt 1" and "Zt 2" is also particularly notable; his extended bowing technique on upright bass creates a creepy effect.

Next time I'll post reviews of the new Gregg August record and possibly the Hank Jones and Roberta Gambarini collaboration "You Are There."

Return to Return to Forever

2008-04-27T13:24:00.006-04:00

About a week ago when I read the news of Return To Forever's most popular line-up (Chick Corea, Al DiMeola, Stanley Clarke, Lenny White) reuniting for an extensive summer tour and possible new album, I initially thought about writing a lengthy sarcastic rant. But, it turned out, a page later in Downbeat's "The Question Is" section Cuong Vu had put it perfectly:

"Is it being put together because there's a new musicial direction and concept in place that only these musicians can realize? Yeah, right... It's not going to be the same, kind of like seeing all those upper-30-something women get into a frenzy for a Duran Duran reunion tour."

That's right, that was Cuong Vu, a young trumpet player who gained notice from playing with none other than the Pat Metheny Group attacking Return to Forever for selling out.

The next post on this blog is going to contain substantive reviews of new albums by The Free-Form Funky Freqs and Fieldwork, I promise.

Vijay Iyer Reimagines The Jazz Quartet With "Tragicomic"

2008-04-25T00:37:00.005-04:00

Alright, it's over. Robert Glasper and Jason Moran- both of whom brilliant young piano players- should know this already; Glasper's only released three albums as a leader, and Jason Moran hasn't come out with a new disc since early 2006's "Artist in Residence." In case there was ever any kind of question, this is Vijay Iyer's decade, much like the 90's belonged to Brad Mehldau. Ever since 2003's "Blood Sutra," Iyer has released a string of brilliant albums ("In What Language," "Reimagining," "Still Life With Commentator," "Raw Materials," and now "Tragicomic), of which there is no "best;" each one is different from the last but also more similar to the others than to anything else in jazz (or pop for that matter). The fact that "Tragicomic" belongs on a level with those other six albums is only proof of how great it is.

Out of all of those albums, "Tragicomic" has the most in common with "Reimagining," which should be no surprise given the fact that "Reimagining" is also, for the most part, a quartet album, albeit one with a handful of trio tracks, and a single tune on solo piano. That said, "Tragicomic" is a much darker, freer, and more violent record than "Reimagining," and brims with the topical anger of "In What Language" and "Still Life with Commentator" (one of the songs on "Tragicomic" is called "Macaca Please," after Virginian George Allen's now historic slur). A key to Iyer's success, like on all of the other albums, is alto saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa. Mahanthappa plays the saxophone the way a rioter uses a cinder-block; he plays it angrily, loudly, and violently. Just listening to his playing on "Macaca Please," or "Machine Days," or on "Without Lions," in which he trades lines with Iyer much like the duo's collaboration on the "Raw Materials" album, sends chills down my spine.

The one solo piano track on "Tragicomic," "I'm All Smiles," begins as a jaunty waltz, and ends in a much darker territory; the first few choruses sound like a lost standard from Bill Evans' Village Vanguard sessions, but Iyer finishes by pedaling a tone with his right hand while his left hand moves through the murkier lower range of the piano. All in all, the track is a good microcosm of the album in that passages of staggering beauty are all eventually consumed by violence; the ethereal opener "The Weight of Things" is followed by the frenetic "Macaca Please;" "Threnody," a song I've already blogged at length about, moves from stately solo piano to freely moving beautiful chords to a brilliant spastic freakout by Mahanthappa.

"Tragicomic" may well be the best jazz album of the year. I know its too early to call something like that, but it will probably take much more than a Wynton Marsalis song cycle ("He and She") based on the relationships between a man and a woman or a Return to Forever reunion record (if it materializes; soon to be blogged about) to beat it, and heavy hitters like Brad Mehldau and Kurt Rosenwinkel have already laid their cards out on the table. Iyer is a force to be reckoned with, and he proves that for the seventh time this decade with "Tragicomic."

Also, I made a deal with my friends Sarah and Eric that if they plugged me on their blog or radio show I'd plug them on mine, so here goes: if your inclination is indie pop, check out broken loveseats; if your inclination is sound representation through colour, check out synesthesia vacation on Fridays from 12-2 pm.

Downbeat: Branford Proves for At Least the Tenth Time Since "Ken Burns' Jazz" That Wynton Isn't the Only Arrogant Jerk in the Marsalis Family

2008-04-23T00:15:00.006-04:00

I'm sitting here, watching "Tonight's the Night-" the episode of Doogie Howser, M.D. where Doogie and Wanda finally (almost, at least) get it on- trying to get the bad taste from this month's Downbeat out of my mouth, and let me be honest; its not working. And I really, really want to get the image of Branford Marsalis egotistically grinning at me on the cover out of my head.

The Marsalises are sort of like the Doogie Howsers of the jazz world; they became very prominent figures at a very young age, and, like Doogie Howser, decided not to have sex in their teen years and thus have spent the time since being tight-assed, arrogant shmucks, espousing their "genius" (much like Doogie) to anyone who'll listen. Granted, the metaphor only holds up for so long- I don't think anybody left a baby on Wynton's doorstep, and that the baby's mother is smokin'- but I think you see the point. When Branford supplies the name of his own article in Downbeat, and the article is called- this is not a joke- "WE DO THINGS BETTER THAN ANY BAND OUT HERE," I like to think its important to note Doogie Howser's assurance to a patient that "you could get an older doctor, but he wouldn't be as brilliant as me."

First of all, I'd like to know what exactly the Branford Marsalis Quartet does better than any band out there (I guess it does cover "A Love Supreme" better than any of those other bands, but then again the rest of them don't have the hubris to try); does anyone honestly believe that Marsalis' band can hold a candle to other small combos like Dave Holland's Quintet, or the Wayne Shorter Quartet, or the long running incarnation of the Paul Motian Trio with Bill Frisell and Joe Lovano? I mean, Branford does a great job of sounding like Coltrane, or Sonny Rollins, whenever he wants to, but musical impersonation is hardly all there is to being a great saxophone player.

Branford needs to learn that the novelty of being a 16 year old doctor- excuse me, the novelty of being the brother of a 16 year old doctor- wow, I've just got my foot in my mouth today- being the brother of a child prodigy messiah figure trumpet player who really wasn't that great to begin with- has worn off, and that he's going to have to find his own sound and stop it with this tomfoolery. Those of you who watched Ken Burns Jazz probably remember him calling Cecil Taylor's music "self-indulgent bullshit." Why Ken Burns gave the Marsalis brothers a soapbox beyond Lincoln Center still confounds me, but as far as I'm concerned people like Burns and Ted Panken (the Downbeat writer behind this article) are enablers. Maybe if Branford stopped constantly being told how great he was he (and gratuitous pulitzer prize winning Wynton) would actually fulfill on his promise and make some good music.

To paraphrase the film critic Roger Ebert from his brilliant review of "Southland Tales," if you thought that was just a rant as opposed to a real entry, you are correct. Next time I promise there will be more record reviews (I would have reviewed Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic," but my local CD store hasn't shelved it yet). In the mean time, don't buy anything by Branford, or his Quartet. Don't encourage him.

Guitar Heroes

2008-04-21T11:10:00.005-04:00

Warning: this post is intended for mature audiences only; it contains coarse language for the sake of conveying emotion. So, you know, if you don't know what "fuck" means or find it insulting, get out of here. Also, you can find my review of Lionel Loueke's "Karibu" here.

Generally, it is the job of a critic to use words and phrases like "stellar," "magnificent," "brilliant range of tone," "emotionally interesting," etc. to talk about the art on which they are an expert. I just saw a concert that was so good I can't even think of a way to describe it in those terms; I've been waiting for a concert this good for a while. In the last two months I've seen the SFJazz collective, which was about a step away from being terrible, and Miguel Zenon, who was terrible. I didn't realize how bad these concerts were until the other night because I desperately wanted to enjoy them.

So, without any further adieu, Lionel Loueke's Trio performance at Oberlin Chapel in Oberlin, Ohio was fucking incredible. When was the last time you went to a jazz show where the band did two encores? Lionel Loueke did, and during the first encore (a performance of the song "Nonvignon;" you can hear it on "In a Trance" and "Karibu") he implored the audience to sing along. When was the last time you went to a jazz show and were asked to sing along? I'm going to fashion a guess and say never; not because jazz is inherently audience-inaccessible, but because the artists think of themselves as artists, not performers. Lionel Loueke thinks of himself as an artist but first as a performer, which explains why his concert was so good, and why Miguel Zenon's was terrible. Seriously, if Lionel Loueke can play a concert in which the simplest meter (as far as I could hear) was 7/8 ("Body and Soul"), and make it sound not only easy, but fun in the giddiest way possible, there's hope for jazz.

Kurt Rosenwinkel's new album is also live, and is also great. Rosenwinkel's aesthetic is very different from Loueke's- his music is much more opaque, and not nearly as joyful- but as far as I can tell from this live record, he still puts on one hell of a show. "The Remedy" documents a live performance of his band from The Village Vanguard in 2006, and the band (which includes Mark Turner and Eric Harland) is on fire. While all the tracks are great, my favorite is the title track, which grooves with more energy than anything else on this album. As opposed to building from solo to solo, Rosenwinkel lets the soloists find contours within his chord changes; Turner and Rosenwinkel have the most energetic solos, but there's something to be said for Aaron Goldberg's no less technical, prettier work on keys.

While I don't have to use the F-word to describe how happy I am about Rosenwinkel's new album (All of Kurt Rosenwinkel's albums are great; this new one may well be my second favorite after "Heartcore"), it doesn't change the fact that it happens to be a killer album, and thus I would highly recommend it to anyone.

Anyway, though, next time you can expect even more album reviews; at least a review of the Brian Blade Fellowship's new CD, but also hopefully one of Vijay Iyer's "Tragicomic" if I can get my hands on it.