Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts

Monday, March 2, 2020

I'd Love to Turn You On #251: Rupa - Disco Jazz (1982)

            Rupa’s Disco Jazz didn’t gain a ton of traction upon its initial release in 1982. Born as the brainchild of the now Grammy Award-winning musician Aashish Khan, the record sold very few copies in its native country and was quickly forgotten about as the weeks passed. Rupa Biswas, the record’s titular and charismatic vocalist completely put the memory of recording the album in the rearview as the years went on. It was only after her son rediscovered the album in his mother’s attic that the family would go on to find out Disco Jazz had become a grail item for record collectors across the world. While its grooves are oriented in something that could feel dated to the average listener, its instrumental and vocal idiosyncrasies make the album an enjoyable and impactful listening experience. It’s for this reason that Disco Jazz not only stands as a testament to the talent of Rupa and the collaborators that made this record possible but also to the strange relationship of the album format and time itself.
            Disco aside, there seem to be both spiritual and psychedelic influences at play across the album and musician Aashish Khan is likely to thank for this. Khan’s performance on the sarod as well as his credits as both the producer and arranger of the record suggest he had strong creative influence over Disco Jazz’s four tracks, each of which makes an impression on the listener. His expertise on the sarod, which makes an appearance on every track, is the glue that holds the charm and beauty of the album together. The opening cut “Moja Bhari Moja'' borrows the core of its elements from standard late seventies and early eighties disco, but one doesn’t have to listen too long to be sucked in by the stark contrast of its transcendent breakdown, which slowly and brilliantly melds the sarod and Geoff Bell’s tremolo-drenched synthesizer in beautiful harmony. “Aaj Shanibar,” perhaps the album’s most well-known track, also dabbles in the realm of psychedelia with its sleek bassline and near jam-band guitar solo. The highlight of the track is the falsetto vocal from Rupa as she sings along note for note with Aashish Khan’s rhythmic, instrumental triplet. Aashish’s brother Pranesh Khan makes an appearance on this track as well as the album’s closer, complementing the track's lush production with his table playing.
            The album has its fair share of floor killer elements as well. “East West Shuffle,” the album’s bounciest and funkiest cut, is carried by the booming drum sound of percussionist Robin Tufts, whose polyrhythmic tendencies keep the track's repetitive and hypnotic bassline moving through its duration. The rock-inspired chorus of “Moja Bhari Moja” somehow fits just as much on the dancefloor as it would on any Yes album before 1972. “Ayee Morshume Be-Reham Duniya,” the album's sprawling, 15-minute closing cut, wraps up the listening experience perfectly, bringing together the best elements of side one into one epic mega track. Rupa's vocal melody over the Western funk of the Khan brothers’ instrumentation makes for some of the album’s most captivating moments. The hypnotic and pulsing refrain sucks you in and when you’re finally lost in the world the album has created for its listener, you feel as though the track could have gone on for another 15 minutes.
Disco Jazz could have been more appropriately titled Disco Psych, but the album gloriously lives up to the potential its moniker suggests. Rupa Biswas never made another album and never fully got to realize her musical prowess as the years went on, but the recent resurgence of her singular effort has revitalized her career and made her of a cult figure in some circles. If the story of Rupa proves anything, it’s that it’s never too late to make an impact and that genius is sometimes never recognized until decades later.


- Blake Britton

Monday, January 20, 2020

I'd Love to Turn You On #248: Bill Evans - Waltz For Debby (1962)

Waltz For Debby is an amazing live document of one of the best jazz trios in peak form. The trio, consisting of Bill Evans on piano, Scott LaFaro on bass, and Paul Motian on drums, was in the process of redefining and expanding the language and roles of the piano trio. Traditionally the drums and the bass would serve as a foundation for the piano to rest upon, but the trio had evolved to a band that functioned more as a musical equals than a band that allowed one player to monopolize the musical landscape. In a traditional piano trio the piano is featured very prominently with the drums and bass playing a supporting role. The drums may provide texture and comping, while the bass provides a steady pulse and harmony. This group would redefine the jazz trio for the genre, providing a new model of excellence and grace.
"My Foolish Heart" opens the record with Evans’ trademark gentle touch. LaFaro plays clear and uncluttered harmony while Motian fills the space on the cymbals and prods with gentle brush work. Part of the magic in this recording is the stereo mix, with the piano in the right channel and the bass and drums mostly cut to the left. When I listen in headphones it gives the music life. There is a tiny portion of ambient club sound but just enough to add sonic depth. The sound is immaculate and any time LaFaro adds multiple notes to flesh out harmony the recording captures it precisely. The clarity of interpretation that comes across in this take speaks to the high level of mastery by the musicians. It also communicates the intent of the ballad, which is intimacy, longing, and a warning to a foolish heart that has been fooled before.
"Waltz For Debby," the song, is a great illustration of the kind of innovation that the trio was enacting. In the left speaker you can hear Scott LaFaro playing in the high register to complement Evans' piano playing. It is not until the after the one minute mark that he moves down to play a more traditional bass role. He is using notes that are harmony and color tones, tones that are not the standard designated function of bass players. Because of the range he is playing them in they are functioning as melodic tones rather than bass fundamentals, giving a new advanced melodic freedom and expressiveness to the bass that the instrument had been lacking before. On Evans' part he is as ever is treating us to the smooth voice leading that is one of the hallmarks of his style. This is to say that within the harmony between two chords he either kept common tones or found the shortest distances between notes so that the transition was not jarring, and that the overall effect sounded smooth and effortless. This is especially evident in a song like "Waltz For Debby" where the overall harmony is quite complex but the effort that it takes to play it seems minimal and graceful. One of the features of the song is a series of cascading chords which descends down and then circles quickly back up to repeat the cycle. Paul Motian drops in around 1:20 and the group starts to play more like a traditional trio. LaFaro is still hitting all kinds of upper color notes fleshing out the harmony during Evans' piano solo. Motian is laying down solid brushwork, and doing occasional cymbal splashes. He switches to a light cymbal ride pattern under LaFaro’s acrobatic solo. Evans returns to play the melody before the brief coda of the tune. "Detour Ahead" is a ballad-ish tune. Evans and LaFaro demonstrate how familiar they are with the song by playing spaciously around each other. LaFaro will cover the bass harmony and dart into the high register to add some melodic interjection over Evans’ chordal approach. Motian backs them up with stellar brush work. Evans takes the first solo, although LaFaro is so active it might be considered a duet. LaFaro takes the next solo, and then they return to the melody. I think what you can glean from an interpretation of a song as rhythmically interactive as this is how much synergy the trio was working with. Something with as many layers as this has to be developed by working on group interplay and communication, and this group was an amazing example of that kind of work.
"My Romance" features a lovely Bill Evans solo introduction. It is a simple run through the melody but it once again gives us insight into his voice leading approach. Evans has an economical approach that results in a gentle sound, one that utilizes common tones and close neighboring tones to minimize unnecessary movement. Once Motian and LaFaro enter, the song becomes a more swinging number rather than another ballad. The group interplay displayed during Evans’ solo is hard to match, and furthermore the bass solo might be the most virtuosic on the record, with LaFaro dazzling and flashing unbelievable technique. Listening to the way this trio treats time - stretching it, leaving empty spaces for other members to occupy - it is evident just how much of the ground work they have laid for modern groups' rhythmic concepts. Listeners can see the influence of this trio all around the jazz genre, but you really see the influence in groups like the Keith Jarrett Standards Trio with Jack DeJohnette and Gary Peacock, or Brad Mehldau’s trio.
"Some Other Time" is a beautiful ballad with a minimal approach that lets the melodic content do the work. Evans’ classic voicings really shine in this song. The harmony in the first part of the tune allows LaFaro to back up Evans with harmonics, an effect that produces a higher pitched portion of a note by partially applying pressure on a specific part of the string. Jaco Pastorius would later become famous for using harmonics extensively on the electric fretless bass. Scott LaFaro can be heard using harmonics to accompany Evans all throughout the song, providing a shimmering, high-pitched accompaniment on the double bass.
"Milestones" is a fast uptempo tune and a real showcase for Evans and LaFaro. Although I haven’t mentioned his name tons in this review let me take a moment to celebrate Paul Motian. As a player, he is what the music calls for, which is the kind of egoless playing that makes these records so great. It prevents it from being excessively technical. Scott LaFaro was a technical master and this was balanced by Motian whose technique was present but understated. Motian prods uptempo swing numbers like this with crisp, light, cymbal work that keeps the song buoyant. It is light and delicate so you can still hear the details of LaFaro's playing which is also light. It is the opposite of a heavy thunderous drummer like Elvin Jones.
So many things about this group are amazing. Tragically, Scott LaFaro died in a car accident in 1961 bringing this group’s growth to an abrupt halt, and stopping Bill Evans from even playing for a period of time. I always wonder what the group concept would have evolved into if Scott LaFaro had not passed away. Bill Evans went on to work with a number of great bass players that played amazing music, not confined to the rigid structures of bebop or traditional jazz. I just happen to think that this particular group was the pinnacle. I hope you enjoy Waltz For Debby!
            

- Doug Anderson

Monday, September 16, 2019

I'd Love to Turn You On #240 - John Coltrane - Blue Train (1957)


Blue Train, the only record by John Coltrane on Blue Note records, came out in 1958. The personnel is an all-star lineup, with members from Miles Davis’s and Art Blakey’s bands. John Coltrane was a creative force, having just working with Miles Davis, and being in the process of working with Thelonious Monk while Blue Train was being recorded. He would go on to put out some of his most influential music, including the landmark record Giant Steps on the Atlantic label, shortly after recording Blue Train. This album consists of all original material with the exception of one standard, "I’m Old Fashioned." John’s Coltrane’s creative energy was on full display for this session, not only as a composer but as an improviser.
One of my favorite things about this record is the arrangements. The band is big enough to function as a multi-timbral ensemble, smaller than a big band and larger than a traditional trio or quartet. It displays a fullness and lushness in the arrangements, yet it is lean enough to let each of the members shine as soloists. Curtis Fuller adds not only sonic dimension on the trombone but crystal clear solo lines. Handling trumpet duties is Lee Morgan. He was propelled to fame with a series of hit records for Blue Note after this session. Both He and Fuller were playing with Art Blakey at the time. The rhythm section consists of Paul Chambers on bass and Philly Joe Jones, both of whom had played with Miles. Finally, on the keyboards Kenny Drew harmonically glues this talented band together.
"Blue Train" is the first track, and the opening melody is one of the things that will keep you coming back to this record. It is simple, catchy, and bluesy. After the melody is stated a couple of times Trane takes the first solo on the 12 bar blues. His impressive technique allows him to surprise us with unexpected turns of phrase. The choices he makes are inventive and innovative, and the energy he brings to each solo is impressive. As Trane ends his solo it provides a perfect simmering point for Morgan to come in a play it cool for a little bit. The sax has been playing super energetic jam-packed lines, so in contrast Lee Morgan starts his solo by playing some cool repeated note motifs. The ensemble supports in various ways. Philly Joe Jones energizes the soloists at times by switching to a double time feel, drawing them into denser rhythmic activity. In other places the horn ensemble unites to provide background textures as support for the soloists.
"Moment's Notice" is a cool midtempo swing tune. It starts out featuring the quartet of Coltrane, Chambers, Drew, and Philly Joe in a broken down version of the ensemble playing the initial statement of the melody. Philly Joe Jones’s hi-hat work is amazing - he compliments and punctuates the melody. The melody is eventually supported with the full ensemble using the horns as rhythmic and melodic thickeners. This tune could work as a quartet arrangement but this elaborate architecture is a treat for the ears. Eventually a harmonic pedal point is established and Trane begins his solo. Trane’s three choruses are packed full of ideas, already showing glimpses of how he would further develop his approach to harmony. He is incorporating massive amounts of material, working on developing his own language. Curtis Fuller’s choruses, perhaps some of his best on this record, are precise and technical, a model of post-bebop. Lee Morgan plays technical ideas but utilizes more repeated note motifs, bluesy bends, and wide interval leaps. It's more of a showy style, while still being hard bop.
"Locomotion" is a blistering call and answer between the trumpet and trombone with Coltrane playing shorter solo response phrases. It is a great example of how Coltrane’s musical energy can propel a rhythm section. With Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones, the rhythm can have a laid back feel at times, but with Coltrane taking a solo at this tempo listeners can definitely feel him leading this band with a musical dexterity and intensity that lives up to his legend as a larger than life performer. As Trane works his way through the first chorus you can feel the groove settle in. Curtis Fuller is next up, and I love the way his solo is introduced over an 8-bar drop out by everybody else. His use of sequence or recurring ideas similar ideas, such as the chord change, is a highlight of the solo. Lee Morgan once again dazzles with his proficiency. This solo highlights one of the great things about Lee Morgan's playing. Even in an uptempo tune while playing fast lines he can make certain notes pop and stand out. It really is a cool aspect of his playing, not only are the lines melodically working their way around the harmony but at the same time he is adding another dimension to the dynamics by attacking and easing off certain notes.
The ballad "I’m Old Fashioned" is next. In this thinner texture where Trane plays the melody, Paul Chambers' excellent bass work can be appreciated. As Curtis Fuller takes the first solo Philly Joe moves from ½ time to straight quarter notes on the ride cymbal providing a perfect solo bed for Fuller to work in. For Kenny Drew’s understated piano solo Philly Joe switches to just brushes on the snare. It is here that you can hear the synergy between the piano, bass, and drums, as they just relax in the groove. Morgan follows with a sultry solo, eventually resolving to the melody to end the tune. "Lazy Bird" finds Morgan introducing the melody after a brief introduction by Drew on piano. At the bridge horns play harmony hits before Morgan restates the melody. Morgan takes the first solo, navigating the song with his typical fleet-footedness. He is followed by Fuller, whose brief solo gives way to John Coltrane’s solo. Trane has a way of using variation within his improvisation that avoids direct repetition. He might use something close to a motif, but it will rarely be the exact thing twice. He also uses unexpected starting and stopping places along with dense phrases that make it hard to predict what he might attempt to play. His choice of using harmony that exists within the chord structures or incorporating outside harmonic tones belonging to his developing vocabulary was another factor in his growing sound. One of the joys of listening to him play is the unexpected nature of his performances.
I think this record is a must have for a Coltrane fan. It sits firmly as a marker between the Prestige recordings and the Impulse recordings. It has iconic cover art - a contemplative Coltrane with that classic blue filter over it - all the sidemen are playing out of their minds, and the songs are all very catchy. As far as Coltrane’s playing he is giving it everything he has. His tone is balanced and even, his ideas are focused and evolving, and his energy as a band leader produces a true classic.
-         Doug Anderson

Monday, July 22, 2019

I'd Love to Turn You On #236 - Gerry Mulligan – Night Lights (1963)


            Growing up, I didn’t get to listen to a lot of jazz. It typically wasn’t played around my house by either of my parents and I certainly didn’t get exposed to it from any of my peers. I do recall later on a time when my mother developed an affinity for smooth jazz or “elevator jazz,” as I called it back then. Artists like Spyro Gyra (or, if she wasn’t in the mood for the rowdiness of Spyro Gyra, The Rippingtons), were a go-to. I fucking hated it. I still fucking hate it. It’s boring and soulless and reminds me of intercom music from the days of being dragged to musty grey department stores and schlepped around in a cart while my mom bought box fans and fondue pots and continually told me “no” when I would ask to get one single He-Man figure. But anyway, I digress.
That was my idea of jazz when I was growing up, is my point. And I wanted no part of it. So you can imagine my delight when I got older and discovered real jazz on my own and how wonderful and inspiring and truly creative the world of jazz could be. I started to check out all the greats: Bird, Diz, Miles… everyone. To this day, there are certain artists and certain records that I know I should enjoy, but I struggle with. Gerry Mulligan was one of these artists for many years. I’m a die-hard fan now, but it took a minute. The first one that I ever listened to was his 1963 record Night Lights and I instantly hated it. Obviously this has a happy ending because I’m writing about it, but when I first heard it I thought it sounded too much like the smooth jazz that made me resent my mom’s tastes years prior. But there’s more to this little gem than that and upon multiple listens I fell in love with its beauty and sheer sensuality.
Most jazz fans are no doubt familiar with the work of Gerry Mulligan and, in particular, his piano-less material with Chet Baker from the mid-to-late ‘50s cool jazz era. It was during this period where the baritone saxophonist cut his teeth with some of the most talented ensembles of the time. As an arranger, Mulligan worked with many jazz giants of the ‘50s, such as Stan Kenton and Miles Davis. Because of these associations, or perhaps in spite of them, Mulligan developed a bit of a reputation as perfectionist and often demanded center stage attention from his audiences. On Night Lights, however, Mulligan opts to take an unexpected back seat to his sextet of stellar players, including valve trombonist and longtime collaborator Bob Brookmeyer, Art Farmer on flugelhorn, Bill Crow on bass, Dave Bailey on drums and the inimitable Jim Hall on guitar. The result is one of the most breathtaking records of the 1960s.
For starters, Mulligan isn’t as present on Night Lights as he has been in previous sessions. Kicking things off is the title track, the first of three original compositions to appear on the album. Uniquely, old “Jeru” doesn’t even play his signature instrument on it, opting instead to lead the piece with a shimmering piano line that sounds as if it’s being played in a smoke-filled after-hours club. Other highlights include a rendition of Chopin’s “Prelude in E-Minor” with a distinct Latin flavor and an enchanting version of the standard “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning.” Night Lights is a decidedly ballad-heavy album and plays at a very slow pace, which is not necessarily to its detriment. Although there are no real upbeat numbers to speak of here and it is markedly lacking any improvisation (something Mulligan excels at normally), it more than makes up for it in musical prowess and romanticism. Mulligan and company definitely capture a mood here and that mood is unmistakably “night life.”
At just over 30 minutes (not including the bonus CD track which is a fantastic alternate take of the song “Night Lights” recorded in 1965), this record is a short but sweet bachelor pad classic. Perfect for cocktails or for date night.
-         Jonathan Eagle

Monday, June 24, 2019

I'd Love to Turn You On #234 - Jaco Pastorius - Jaco Pastorius


Image result for Jaco Pastorius - Jaco Pastorius
            Starting your debut album off with a cover is a bold move no matter who you are, especially when it gets flipped completely upside down and becomes a minimalist piece. Jaco Pastorius starts off his first solo effort with a bass guitar rendition of Charlie Parker’s “Donna Lee,” which lays down a foundation for a career unlike anything else. Immediately you gravitate to the melody and with only conga drums in the background there is nothing to distract you from how gorgeous and rich just a fretless bass guitar can be. It’s very easy to get distracted by the immense skill that is presented on this album. Jaco made a name for himself being the absolute best, in a different universe from everyone else; he didn’t think of a bass like a bass, it was just an extension of his being. He displays his foundation of strong skills, a sense of melody on a non-melodic instrument, and appreciation for what came before all within the first two and a half minutes.
Image result for Jaco Pastorius
           After “Donna Lee” graces your ears, they get blown out with the opening horns of “Come On, Come Over” which is more like a standard funk song of the time, except the bass is the star. All the drums and grooves on this album come from a heavy influence of his Florida surroundings and Latin and Cuban music, but the way they tie into the solo bass pieces that are so gentle and have an intensity to them is a lot more human and emotional than any other bass player I’ve heard. Then you get flung right back into the funk side of things with “Kuru/Speak Like a Child.” Herbie Hancock makes an appearance here that is the equivalent to a rap feature, his presence is massive but him and Jaco going back and forth on this song is as exciting as Andre 3000 and Big Boi of Outkast trading verses. They play well together, nobody stepping on the other’s feet, and it’s never so much that it detracts from the song as a whole. The pattern of rich and warm ballads, then undeniable funk masterpieces continues with the harmonic “Portrait of Tracy,” which has become one of Jaco’s signature songs, floating through your mind and reminding you of young love like no other instrumental can. “Opus Pocus,” "Okonkolé Y Trompa," and "(Used to Be a) Cha-Cha" take you from this earth into an unknown dimension of groove and funk that I’ve not experienced anywhere else. It’s not quite the same place that bands like Parliament or Sly and the Family Stone were taking you to, this was funk in Jaco’s mind taking place in a space that we are able to visit for a short time.

Image result for Jaco Pastorius
Jaco has been called the Jimi Hendrix of bass, and this album is his Are You Experienced? The contents of this album opened up a door for bass players around the world - you suddenly didn’t have to be a background instrument that is just there to elevate the guitar, singer, or anybody else. The "Bass of Doom" and Jaco were the stars. He had a spell book that nobody else has been able to get access to since. There are people that can replicate what he does on a technical level, but none of it compares to how he plays. All of the technical stuff is really cool, but none of it really matters if the song doesn’t groove, move, and make you feel like dancing - which is the dynamic of this record, with the tight grooves that are so relaxed. The band is perfectly behind the beat at times where it’s so chill you want to lounge around with a margarita on a summer day. Then they come back around to being as tight and precise as any of the prog guys at the time.
There is so much to dig into on this album; it’s incredibly dense, but incredibly digestible. You don’t need to be a bass expert or know who Charlie Parker is to make this a great listen. This album reveals all of Jaco’s colors, which is appropriate because the cover is a black and white portrait of him looking right into the camera, no smile, nothing, which makes opening it up and hearing how colorful this album is that much more exciting.
-         Max Kafuman

Monday, April 15, 2019

I'd Love to Turn You On #229 - Jeff Beck - Wired


Jeff Beck is the most interesting guitar player to come out of the 1960’s. More than anyone that played in the Yardbirds before, with, or after, he really made his guitar a voice that cannot be replicated. You see people playing in Led Zeppelin cover bands and people doing Cream covers, and they can copy their specific guitar tones and styles easily. But nobody ever does Jeff Beck Group songs, nor do you hear “That guy can play guitar just like Jeff Beck.” It just doesn’t happen, because it can’t be done. His sound kept evolving in a more unique way which led him right into jazz-fusion. As while his peers were expressing their devotion to blues, jazz is what excited Beck and pushed his guitar playing to the next level, rather than plateauing at a certain skill level.
This isn’t really a jazz album though - to me it’s the purest definition of jazz fusion, which was essential for me crossing over from listening to over-the-top prog rock and punk right into the warm embrace of jazz. The guitar on this album goes from sounding like several different horns to being the main melodic force that a singer would bring to the table; but it is still unmistakably a guitar, a force flying over the rest of the band instead of plowing through the middle. As much as this album is focused on six strings, the rest of the band that Beck hired were really at his level if not higher. Max Middleton (who had played with Beck for years at this point) on Fender Rhodes and Clavinet, Wilbur Bascomb on bass, and Narada Michael Walden on drums are all names you might not know because they’ve had their careers mostly behind the scenes rather than in front of the curtain, but these are the men with most of the songwriting credits on the album, with six out of the eight - Jeff Beck doesn’t have a single writing credit on this album, just his name on the front cover. The other credits go to Jan Hammer, who wrote and plays synthesizers on the song "Blue Wind," and right in the middle of the first side, a rendition of Charles Mingus’ "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat," that if you’re not careful might just cause you to shed a tear.
Track by track this album is all killer and no filler, clocking in at a super tight 38 minutes, and it feels like you got chewed up and spit out by the end of it. The opening track "Led Boots" starts with a slightly off drum groove that fades in backed by big chords, then punches you with the main bass line and theme. The guitar comes in and sounds like a fighter plane flying over the field before a baseball game, spraying all the stuff into the air to make the colored clouds. It stands the test of time as a great album opener and cements the tone of the album. "Come Dancing" keeps the feel going, laying more on the back side of the beat rather than being in your face. How a song that grooves the way it does and yet flows seamlessly into "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat" still amazes me. Their rendition of the classic Mingus track is something to marvel in. This was the first time I had heard anything written by the prolific bassist, and to say it changed me is an understatement. I had no idea it was a jazz classic the first time I heard this version, to me it was just the best rock ballad I’d heard at the time. The guitar and keys melt into a stew of sonic pleasure and tone that play to each other’s strengths unlike anything else. The feedback of the guitar plays a major role - it is the atmosphere and aroma that take make you want to sit down and enjoy the musical meal the band just put all of their emotion into. It’s tough to imagine ending an album after this song - though Mingus did the same thing, put it on the first side of the record right in the middle - but before this side is over there is the undeniable bass playing on "Head for the Backstage." The bass playing on both of those tracks starts along the same path of Larry Graham, but it took a detour, got lost, and came back with treasure.
Unfortunately the back half isn’t as visceral as the first, but there is still so much that you can’t deny on this album. "Blue Wind" starts off side two and it’s got a slightly slower, but way brighter, Deep Purple feel with its driving energy. On the last few tracks, "Sophie" and "Play With Me" are derivative of Funkadelic in the best ways, and "Love is Green" lets you down lightly after you’ve been shaken by the funk madness.
This album has been my favorite Jeff Beck for as long as I can remember because there is so much of the human element in it. It’s still easy to be able to hear how hungry he is, and how he doesn’t want to settle for what he’s already done. The direction he chose may not have brought him the same success as his other Yardbirds graduates, but his voice is richer and more flavorful than every other guitar player out there.
-         Max Kaufman

Monday, March 18, 2019

I'd Love to Turn You On #227 - Keith Jarrett - The Köln Concert


“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” Winston S. Churchill
Keith Jarrett’s The Köln Concert is a remarkable piece of music. It has substance technically, and it is a prime example of a when all the circumstances align, good and bad, to create a masterpiece that defines a genre. As much as ECM is enjoying a creative resurgence over the last few years, this record is still ECM’s best-selling record without a question. When I first listened to the record I was struck by the range of genres that Jarrett draws from and utilizes. Clearly it is a jazz record, but within that he shows us aspects of classical, gospel, blues, and rock. I listened to it a lot. As with many records, the more I listened the more it seemed to open up for me and reveal new secrets and treasures. This was before I really knew the story of the circumstances around the recording, which in my opinion makes the record even more remarkable.
In January of 1975, Keith Jarrett, suffering from a lack of sleep and severe back pain,
arrived in Cologne (Köln) Germany to play a concert at the Opera House. To his dismay he discovered that the piano he requested to play had not been obtained, but instead, a smaller, inferior piano in need of repair had been wheeled on stage. Faced with either the prospect of cancelling the show or performing on the smaller, inadequate instrument he chose to perform on the ailing piano. Certain characteristics of the piano were weak: the bass register was underwhelming, the high register was thin and frail, forcing him to play the majority of the music in the middle register. In addition the sustain pedal, which allows a piano player to hold out notes for extended durations, was malfunctioning. Which brings me to the quote at the top. For whatever reason Keith Jarrett decided to play this concert as opposed to cancelling it, and we have the legendary result.
ECM is a label that has a different philosophy than some other jazz labels. They did not have the blues, swing, or style of Blue Note, or the new funk of the CTI label. Rather ECM had a concept of reflection and meditativeness, or awareness. This awareness was balanced with a coolness and a distance. This concept was often reinforced with a naturalistic cover art that showed a harsh and bleak northern European outdoors. An exception was made for the cover art for The Köln Concert. It features a black and white photo of Jarrett with his head slumped over, playing the piano. He seems immersed or entranced. Rather than market the distant landscapes of an icy north ECM chose to market a personality. It seemed to work. The sales have been prolific.
It has been said that this record was one of the bedrock records for “New Age” music. However ECM’s cerebral detachment and headiness is the opposite of music that is put on for yoga, inspiration, or stress management. This record may be in the center of a certain Venn diagram that allows for people to speculate that it is “New Age” but they would be mistaken. The musical language is too sophisticated. This record might be in somebody’s record collection next to Ornette Coleman, Black Sabbath, or George Winston. It has also earned a reputation as chillout record or stoner record. So yes it has a reputation, but to dismiss it as “New Age” would be incorrect.
The concert is divided into four parts. Over two LPs Pt. 1 takes up side A, and then Pt. 2 is split into A, B, and C, over the three remaining sides (or tracks on CD). Part One begins with a reflective and melancholic melodic exploration. This gives way to a progression of major chords that leads to a brief ostinato, or recurring melodic motif. After the ostinato, melodic ideas and runs begin to occur. The right hand flourishes gain in frequency over a left hand ostinato and then start to fade out. These cascading runs continue for a few minutes then the intensity of the ostinato increases by way of thickening chords. Jarrett must sustain all the motion and energy with his fingers since the sustain pedal is broken, which makes the pure sound generated much more impressive. Around the 11-minute mark, harmonic variety is introduced and changes the tone of the piece. Instead of just alternating between a few chords he allows a progression to develop, which allows a broadness and depth into the music. Near the 15-minute mark another slower, reflective section is introduced. He explores the upper register of the piano in a way that would not necessarily exploit its deficiencies. By gently probing the upper register and not exploring it in full force he can make the instrument speak without making it sound overly trebly. Much of the chordal movement in the next few minutes seems to be an exploration of the mid register and low register, a gauging of the piano’s capabilities. At the 21-minute mark another ostinato, or rhythmic bed is established. This ostinato is a thicker bed, in the middle register where the piano is most fundamentally sound. The vamp gradually expands with melodic statements, explorations into the bass region, and increases in density through rhythmic activity. This motif closes out the first improvisation.
Pt. 2 A begins with Jarrett again setting up a rhythmic figure in his left hand which he can play a short melody over and begin to improvise. He sets up the tonality and mood by repeating the melody a few times and letting the vamp settle over the first minute and a half. He then begins to improvise with quite a bit of energy. At almost six minutes into the improvisation Jarrett seems to work into some block chords that provide relief from the rhythmic figure for a moment; they also provide a glimpse of a different texture, one that he will work his way towards. He then returns to the ostinato with more vigor and reinforces the figure in the bass register to work it to a climax. Around eight minutes into the piece he shifts moods to a much more somber, exploratory, and harmonically rich improvisation. The melody jumps between registers as chords search for resolution, giving the section its weighty feel. Eventually, with a couple minutes left in the track, a theme in a major, more hopeful-sounding key is incorporated. Jarrett works thru the resolution and the track ends, suspended in the high register of the piano. The track was originally split to be placed on LP and even listening on CD when looking at the tracks switching over it makes the listener consider if the cuts are precise, or if they left a second or more out.
Pt. 2 B starts out firmly in a minor key and Jarrett once again sets up a vamp that he can improvise over. He stays in this intense atmosphere for six or seven minutes before expanding the harmony further out in a minimalist expansion. He uses full chords in the midrange of the piano at loud volume for maximum emotional intensity. To compensate for the broken sustain pedal he uses a rocking set of inner voices creating a sound reminiscent of minimalist composers Steve Reich or Philip Glass but with more harmonic motion. Just before the 12-minute mark a new major, or lighthearted, theme is introduced. This is my personally my favorite track. It seems as if he has figured out the instrument and opened up the faucet of his creativity. The improvisation content of these next few minutes always blows me away if I am listening carefully.
The record has an additional track but I am out of space. I could write more about it but you should listen to it. It’s inspired; it is great music. Plus, it almost never happened! In his book Free Jazz Ekkehard Jost suggests “In Jazz it is not always appropriate to ascribe the initiative for shaping new principles of creation, or abandoning old ones, to an individual or a small circle of innovators.” His theory is that only in the “rarest instances” does an individual provide a beacon of genre defining work. It seems to me as if The Köln Concert captures one of these rare instances.
-         Doug Anderson

Monday, August 6, 2018

I'd Love to Turn You On #211 - Ron Miles – Witness


Most Denver jazz fans have heard of Ron Miles, and if you haven’t you're in for a treat. Witness is his second record and it was released in 1990 on Capri Records. It features compositions by Thelonious Monk, Charles Mingus, Billy Strayhorn, fellow bandmate Fred Hess, and two original compositions by Ron Miles. The band is made up Denver jazz veterans. It features Ron Miles on trumpet, Fred Hess on tenor saxophone and flute, Art Lande on piano, Ken Walker on bass, and Bruno Carr on drums. This band has respect and command of the jazz tradition, and that respect and command of tradition frees them to be exploratory and adventurous within the framework of both standards and originals.
Art Lande starts out the song “Witness” with a beautiful chordal variation of the theme on piano. He is then joined by Ken Walker on bass for a more straightforward statement of the theme. The drums then join in a march feel, and the horns of Miles and Hess state the melody in full force. The piano is the first to solo, showing immediately that it is not just a straightforward blowing session by establishing a percussive rhythmic bed using an extended piano technique. Moving from decisive single note lines to clusters and chordal stabs, Lande summons the rhythm section into action. As they activate beneath him the entire feel starts to pick up energy and move from a march to a swinging, dynamic ball of 4/4 energy fueled by Bruno Carr and Ken Walker. The group then switches back to the march feel for the beginning of Miles’s solo. Miles starts out by quoting the melody but then runs into a series of melodic flurries. The main melody is never far from his improvisation. As Bruno Carr moves into a rhythmic motif on his tom toms under Miles, the trumpet player suspends tones while the tension builds. There is a certain sense of wondering if the rhythmic direction will again be pulled back to swing but the listener is drawn in as Miles stretches out dissonant tones and textural flurries. Bruno Carr hammers away on the toms maintaining the energy. Lande responds with interjections and clusters as Walker provides tonal and rhythmic anchors. As the solo ends the melody is restated for the exit out. I’m always captivated by the joyousness of this melody.
“Ugly Beauty” is a waltz by Thelonious Monk. It starts out with Fred Hess playing the melody on the flute. Miles is the first to solo and he has a gentle approach featuring large melodic leaps. Miles makes technically difficult passages sound elegant and graceful, which is a testament to his mastery of the trumpet. The next solo by Lande and Hess includes tandem flurries, playfulness, questions and answers, all within a format and structure. This displays a great concept of a duel solo, or two people occupying a space typically reserved for one individual.
“Just Like You (I Don’t Want To Be)” starts out with a unison horn head at blistering pace. It moves thru some free form soloing by Miles and then Hess before it enters an interesting composed hit-and-silence structure that replaces a traditional harmonic framework. This solo framework is expanded upon and fleshed out with an additional melody over the stop time. Miles takes another solo over this new texture, and the original melodic statement is then played again. Bruno Carr takes a solo at a ridiculous tempo and then the melody is played one last time. The structure of the song provides for a great contrast to other tracks on the CD. The untraditional structure of this song highlights the strengths of the group. They are creative enough to follow and explore where the music takes them and able enough to adeptly lead themselves back to the predetermined rallying points. A highly original tune by Ron Miles with some interesting compositional devices.
“A Flower Is A Lonesome Thing” starts out with a solo statement of the melody. The experience of the group really shines in this performance. It is as if they are playing not so much in the expected places but around them. Bruno Carr’s brush work is amazing. Lande’s comping is excellent, whether he provides direct harmonic support, answers solo statements, or provides antecedent statements. Miles’s solo begins in the upper register and descends into a playful skirmish before settling in at the bridge. A double time hint by Carr sends Miles into a final flurry of activity before he settles his solo. Lande follows by beginning his solo with some dissonant block chords before moving into single line question and answer statements. This falls briefly back to a chordal statement, followed by just a glimmer of swing before Miles is back in at the bridge to play out the melody.
“Pithecanthropus Erectus” is a Charles Mingus tune. The band lays down some heavy harmonic pads from which they can contrast further playing. This is a hard swinging tour de force take on this this tune with spirited solos by Hess, Lande, and Miles. Bruno Carr and Ken Walker are holding down the groove solidly while Lande hammers out chords. Hess takes a feisty solo which falls way to a free horn duet after which the tempo ratchets up quite a bit. Lande then churns out a technically commanding and harmonically explorative solo that eventually reinstates the original tempo and groove. Miles then begins his solo calmly but works it to a raging storm. The band then plays the melody out.
The final track on the record is “Our Time” by Fred Hess. It is a spritely, upbeat, technical number. Fred Hess is playing flute, Ron Miles is playing muted trumpet, and Bruno Carr once again shows off his masterful brush work. Ron Miles takes a couple of excellent spins thru the challenging changes and then he is joined by Fred Hess for an interlude, after which Hess speeds into a solo of his own. Ken Walker then takes a solo and shows why he is known as one of the top bassists around. He nimbly executes a solo over the challenging changes before Lande takes a quick chorus. Then we have a round of trading bars of four between Miles, Carr, and Lande. After this the interlude is cued and the melody is played out.
One of my favorite ways to enjoy this CD is to pick a particular player and listen to how they choose to interact with the ensemble. I think each one of the players has an exceptional ability to generate and stay true to an idea, or conversely, support another band member’s idea. All of the playing seems in service to the music. One of my regrets is that I didn’t see this band around this time, I’m not sure if I knew of Ron Miles then. Then again all these gentlemen, with the exception of Bruno Carr who passed away in 1993, can be seen in and around Denver. If you don’t have or know of this CD I’d Love To Turn You On to it - and go see so these guys live! You won’t regret it! In addition, please check some of Ron Miles’s other works. His original compositions are truly great and he has many more records to enjoy.

-         Doug Anderson

Monday, April 30, 2018

I'd Love to Turn You On #204 - Nellie McKay - Normal As Blueberry Pie: A Tribute to Doris Day


Nellie McKay is a jazz-schooled, showtune-raised singer-songwriter whose stylistic tour-de-force debut double-album Get Away From Me was recorded when she was only 21 (or possibly just 19, depending on what reports you read), released by Sony Music after a bidding competition with other labels, with the Beatles’ engineer Geoff Emerick producing. That’s a lot to live down on future releases. And sure enough, the failure of the album to go gold despite the record’s widespread acclaim and dazzling diversity (or maddeningly hyperactive eclecticism, depending on your point of view) meant that she wouldn’t coast as readily into a music career as her talents deserved.
And talented she definitely is - a multi-instrumentalist and piano player with jazz chops, a singer of pure and natural ease and a big voice, a lyricist with sarcastic wit and strong feminist and progressive ideas, a songwriter who knows jazz, Broadway, varied styles of pop from classic to modern, and yet isn’t averse to dropping rock and rap into her music when it suits her. But her métier is the classic pop vernacular where songsmiths use whatever means they choose to get their point across - melded, of course, with her interest in jazz and pre-rock era pop music.
After fighting her label to release her first album a double album, she fought yet again to make the second a double album and Sony balked – one double album that could’ve fit on a single CD was made by the label under duress, but they weren’t about to do it again and they dropped her, so she released it on her own label. The next time out she tightened things up to an excellent single disc, Obligatory Villagers, tightened the arrangements as well, and traded in pop guests from the last album, like Cyndi Lauper and kd lang, for jazz cats, like saxophonist Dave Liebman and the sadly, recently deceased pianist/vocalist Bob Dorough (best known nowadays for his work on Schoolhouse Rock). And it seemed like a perfect fit – her crafty, jazz-school arrangements and witty, smart lyrics were tailor-made for musicians like these, but the album still didn’t break her through.
It was after the release of this album that I saw McKay live at the now-defunct Trilogy Lounge in Boulder. After three albums of her eccentricity I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I got this (if memory serves): McKay with keyboard and ukulele only, a great voice, great song selection across all three albums, and a kookiness that bordered on ADD behavior, her mind and between-song banter flitting from topic to topic until she lost her train of thought and got back on with the next song where she focused her energy until the next break. During one break she called her brother on her cell to wish him a happy birthday – or pretended to maybe as a piece of performance art? Hard to say for sure, but it’s what she does – jumps from idea to idea, never sitting still long enough to get pigeonholed. So what came next in her career? A tribute to Doris Day, naturally, released by the jazz-associated Verve label, which had put in a bid for McKay’s contract in the first place.
How does Doris Day’s image as a mild and complacent Midwestern housewife fit in with McKay’s world of parental advisory stickers, hip-hop influence, and explicit feminism though? Aside from a love for the verbal wit of classic pop (as well as a longtime commitment to animal activism), McKay’s got a basic love of melody and the voice to pull off the kinds of tunes that Day wrapped her big voice around. Taking on a dozen songs that Day recorded during her long career (only one of them, “Sentimental Journey,” was a big hit for Day) and adding one original, McKay tackles tunes from such lauded songsmiths as Rodgers and Hammerstein, George & Ira Gershwin, Johnny Mercer and others, and, unexpectedly enough, plays it straight throughout. She’s not here to mock, but to celebrate the direct beauty of these melodies, the craft and (sometimes) sentimentality of these words. In short, she’s playing it “normal as blueberry pie” here and it sounds great. If you compare to Doris Day’s versions, Nellie McKay’s are sleeker, wilder and looser, unburdened of Day’s orchestral backings and given jazzier, more rhythmically exciting readings, but readings where McKay shares Day’s clear diction and enunciation and, of course, her big voice putting the songs across. So from love songs like “The Very Thought of You” (on which McKay plays every instrument), “Mean to Me” and the album-highlight “Wonderful Guy” over to dance tunes like “Crazy Rhythm” and “Dig It” to a novelty tune like Calamity Jane’s “Black Hills of Dakota,” Nellie McKay doesn’t update, undercut, or do anything but sing (and arrange, and perform) these tunes. Maybe there’s a wink here and there, as in the sotto voce asides in “Dig It” but she’s never making fun – she’s just loving the songs. This puts the focus on the songs and the words themselves, which means that those coming to this expecting a sendup can learn not only what made these songs popular, but also what made Day popular – there’s a smart, strong woman performing them and she’s easy to identify with. And though McKay’s arrangements may go further than Day could or would have gone with them at the time, they do no disrespect.
            And where has Nellie McKay gone since then? Another album of originals for Verve (Home Sweet Mobile Home) followed in 2010, then McKay disappeared for a bit, returning in 2015 on yet another label with an excellent album of renditions of 60’s classics, My Weekly Reader. She was quiet again for a while but I got inspired to write this up only to find while I was writing that her new album, Sister Orchid (a collection of jazz standards on, again, another label), comes out in three weeks. Be sure to check it out, but start here with what may well be her best album.
-         Patrick Brown

Monday, March 19, 2018

I'd Love to Turn You On #201 - Wayne Shorter - Juju


Looking at contemporary jazz saxophone I believe one can trace the influences back to three saxophone players from the late fifties and early sixties. Those players are John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, and Wayne Shorter. John Coltrane studied and played with Ornette Coleman, as Wayne Shorter studied with John Coltrane. It is amazing how they took each other into consideration rather than trying to evolve inside a vacuum. Juju is a glimpse of Wayne Shorter dealing with the evolving legacy of John Coltrane’s impact upon jazz. As he was developing as an artist he had to assimilate, process, and learn to mature with the musicians around him. The result is one of his most powerful Blue Note releases, recorded in 1964 and released in 1965. I chose Juju for I’d Love To Turn You On because I think it is a great portrait of an artist as he is growing and evolving, reaching for that next step. This is what makes Wayne Shorter such a vibrant player, from his days with Art Blakey through his days with Miles Davis and up until today. He continues to make relevant music, lending a rounded perspective that few can match.

The band of McCoy Tyner on piano, Elvin Jones on drums, and Reggie Workman on double bass is two thirds of the classic Coltrane Quartet. Elvin Jones has a rolling and bubbling swing that interacts perfectly with Tyner’s bombastic chords on the first song “Juju,” laying a perfect bed for the melody. It is only after a few times through the harmonic structure that the frame of the tune, which is fairly simple and repetitive, becomes evident. This reveals the skill of the players, this ability to conceive of dense interlocking textures from simple source material and lay a cohesive bed that Shorter and McCoy Tyner can both solo in. Shorter’s solo seems patient to explore long tones at points, then work long phrases, and then hover on one note, not going any one place. It is the tone of the playing that makes the solo worthy of keeping; even if the solo is a little directionless the spirit of the playing has great zest. The spirit is in the exploration.             

Deluge,” the second tune, is a textbook Blue Note Swing. After the first somber statement by Shorter the entire band joins in for a cohesive, unstoppable demonstration of mid-sixties jazz. Elvin Jones in particular seems to be at the height of his powers, so relaxed that the drumsticks can just bounce on the snare or toms and do no wrong, while at the same time laying down a thick wall of impenetrable cymbals. Shorter then starts a solo with lengthy statements, taking his time working out his ideas and leaving time for the rhythm section to respond and fill space. The quarter note lock-up underneath Tyner’s solo between Reggie Workman and Jones’ ride cymbal is perfect, allowing Tyner to play single note fills or lay down big pedal point chords with his left hand and cascade massive fills with his right hand. The pocket on this tune is so great anything could happen.

“House of Jade” is a downtempo number that eventually picks up a little more speed. It has a ballad feel and the bridge, or middle part of the song, has a pedal point where the harmonic motion holds still in the rhythm section. This allows for increased activity on the melody instrument. It functions much the same way a zoom lens might, to bring greater detail to a certain part of a photo or frame in a picture or movie. The drums eventually double time under the sax solo propelling the rhythmic motion forward even when it drops back to the original time.

“Mahjong” starts with a playful drum solo and piano statement and then Shorter plays the melody which is supported by Tyner’s trademark quartal tones. Tyner is really the perfect piano player for these type of tunes because he can fill the space in songs that have two or three chordal areas in them and still make it interesting. As Tyner fills the space, Shorter plays the melody, and then this happens again. They play a bridge, restate the original melody and then repeat the whole thing. Tyner supplies a thick texture of harmony for his own solo that he can nestle in. While McCoy Tyner fills the space, it might be the opposite of what Shorter was experiencing in Miles Davis’ group where Herbie Hancock would boil a piano voicing down to one or two notes, a chord cluster, or lay out and let space and Tony Williams take over.

“Yes or No” is a real burner of a tune. The melody starts out with a flurry and ends with Shorter holding a long tone as Tyner, Workman, and Jones cruise below it banging out comping chords and flurries of color. This motif repeats several times before the bridge, in which Shorter plays out the song’s title in an up-and-down and back-and-forth manner. Jones’ ride cymbal is a constant North Star of precision during this song, one that all can look to as a guide in direction and meter. Shorter warms up on the first chorus but after that really opens up and plays his most technically demanding and passionate choruses of the record. Tyner takes over but takes a minute to regain the intensity of where Shorter left off, as if maybe he was not ready for Shorter to actually end his solo and was caught off guard having to begin his. A definite high point of the record. They end the record with “Twelve More Bars to Go,” a hard-swinging modified blues. Shorter really works the changes from inside to out. He is the only soloist and the band sounds great. In terms of innovation this has to be the most standard tune on the album. It doesn't have the passion of “Yes and No” or the catchiness of some of Shorter’s other tunes.

Juju was released in 1965 and recorded in 1964. Speak No Evil was released in 1966 and also recorded in late 1964. These are both great Wayne Shorter records. I think they are notable because they illustrate the process of one contemporary dealing with the legacy of another contemporary successfully. By this time John Coltrane was recording Crescent and A Love Supreme so he was continuing to innovate. Both of these artists are moving forward on their separate journeys. Shorter would have more Blue Note records and Miles Davis recordings, and then he would eventually become a founding member of Weather Report.

Hopefully I am turning you on to the fact that yes, Juju itself is great, but looking at it in context of Wayne Shorter’s evolution is the truly fun part. For me that has always been the amazing part of jazz records is how they link together, historically, via recording labels, or band personnel. Have fun listening!

-         Doug Anderson

Monday, March 6, 2017

I'd Love to Turn You On #174 - Nils Petter Molvaer – Khmer


Back in the 1990s, well before EDM made inroads into mainstream popular culture, the European electronic music scene was something that any musician with open ears was paying attention to. Rock and pop musicians were (sometimes reluctantly) getting remixed by famous electronic producers, DJs were becoming superstars, and so forth. So where better than jazz, a syncretic genre that is always taking in influences from the entire world of music, for this to take an early and lasting root? And who better than Nils Petter Molvaer, a Norwegian trumpeter/multi-instrumentalist (he’s also credited here with bass, sampler, treatments, guitar, and percussion) born in 1960, to cotton to the sounds his generation of European musicians were making and find a way to make it blend seamlessly with his kind of jazz?

Of course the music is not without precedent. It’s easy to point to Miles Davis’ similar groundbreaking experiments in the 1970s that fused jazz improvisation with popular rhythms to the consternation of the jazz establishment, or the worldly ethno-ambient records that Jon Hassell laid down in the 1980s (both with and without Brian Eno collaborating). But Molvaer is doing something different - the rhythms are frequently based on the then-contemporary dance beats of the drum & bass scene, but they're less aggressive than what Miles essayed on an album like On the Corner, venturing frequently into ambient territory. And where Miles played with a muscular assertiveness and Hassell drew on Middle Eastern tonalities for his treated trumpet sounds, Molvaer is somewhere else again, playing it cooler than Miles, with shorter phrases than the runs of the Miles of the early 70s, but also playing around with the rhythm a lot, not as much in the abstracted territory of sound that Hassell sometimes occupies. And though maybe I’m putting too much into it by associating his cool middle register tones and subtle phrasing with his Norwegian island upbringing, the record often fits the image of a chilly Scandinavian landscape – but certainly one where you can find Miles Davis albums to listen to.

The album kicks off with the title cut which fades in slowly, leading with a melodic line from the guitar that is then answered by Molvaer’s trumpet. A sampled bass thump plays in one channel while a more acoustic-sounding bass (also sampled) interlocks with it in the other. Percussion (performed live, not sampled) is light, fast, and skittering, right in the wheelhouse of the drum & bass music of the time, playing it both fast and slow simultaneously, though considerably less heavy than the real stuff. With the rhythmic groundwork laid, Molvaer’s trumpet and Eivind Aarset’s guitar trade solos mostly in a laid back, almost ambient mode until Molvaer starts playing longer lines and using the higher register of the trumpet, at which point it promptly fades into track two, “Tlon,” which starts mellow as well, Molvaer’s trumpet cutting like a foghorn through the electronic blips and heavy bass that surround it. Then guitar, trumpet, and an oddly perfect talkbox start a dialogue before the beats kick in to very directly link this to the contemporary electronic music world. But that’s before Morten Mølster’s treated guitar creates a squalor that would derail the goodwill that had been generated by any DJ playing this to a crowded dancefloor.

And so it continues, bouncing between more contemplative numbers like “On Stream” with its trumpet, bass, and mellow guitars over sampled percussion performing the most plainly lovely thing here, and songs like “Access/Song of Sand 1” or “Platonic Years” which start out quietly before rhythm starts to move to the fore and push the guitars and trumpet into more rhythmically choppy waters to match. “Song of Sand 2” and “Exit” close things out with the nosiest and quietest songs in the program, respectively.

Taken as a whole, this is a remarkable record, finding a way to take in haunting beauty, propulsive rhythm, improvisation, and the experimental sound manipulations, and meld them into a cohesive and entertaining whole. It’s something of a shock that it’s on the ECM label, primarily known (especially then) for exquisitely recorded small group chamber jazz, but good for them – it opened up the label to a new audience and it broadened the label’s outlook on what they could release. Also be sure to seek out Molvaer’s equally compelling second ECM album, Solid Ether, and then just start exploring – he has yet to put out a record I haven’t enjoyed.

-         Patrick Brown