A Mosaic of Daydreams: Alexander Berne & The Abandoned Orchestra

For the approaching New Year, a friend of mine was cleaning her home office. She had books which she had read but were not worth keeping and there was also one entire shelf of them from her last job that a boss who thought he was wired into some sort of business Rosetta Stone required his team to read; hokey titles which claimed to offer leadership secrets of everybody from Attila The Hun to Napoleon. It was all very much the zeitgeist of the mid 90’s to early 2000’s. It conjures up remembrances of bosses who were pricks and conference rooms with foosball tables. Equally as prevalent at this time was the myth of multi-tasking, management excitedly piling “to do” things atop their staff while bug eyed and chanting the mantra of “just multi-task it”. The method has long since proven faulty, several things being done at once, none of them well or necessarily right but from those times of the myth of multi-tasking remains a sort of shortened attention span.

Speaking in broad generalities for there are exceptions to every rule, this has spilled over into the arts, with films which emphasize technological flash over substance, popular novels entirely about (semi) classic characters created by other authors and sadly, music. With music the manifestation of short attention span is there but subtler. There are still the aficionados and enthusiasts but gone are the days of people or individuals just sitting and listening to music. Now music is in the background for dinner parties, driving et al; always in the movie of our lives but negated to merely a soundtrack far ever from the main focus.

Multi-instrumentalist Alexander Berne sprang up in the New York scene working with a diverse cross section of musicians including Cecil Taylor, Victor Lewis to Albert “Tootie” Heath. His new double album Flickers of Mime & Death of Memes is a throwback to the golden age of the headphone albums. It is a densely layered work of art which demands one’s full attention to be fully appreciated and understood; on the same levels both viscerally and cerebrally as works by The Second Viennese School (Arnold Schoenberg 1874-1951, Anton Webern 1883-1945, Alban Berg 1885-1935) and other artists whose works have encompassed the dichotomy of electrically charged jump of sparks between mind and emotion; though with the comparisons that is not to say that he has utilized their method of compositions.

From his jazz beginnings Alexander would go on to study Tabla and Indian classical music with Misha Masud and others. He would also embrace multi sources of inspiration from more than just musical genres. From the mid 1990’s until 2008 he would work on film production and visual arts even inventing a new form of painting that combined photo emulsion and acrylics. This has leant his work a cinematic air in the truest sense of the word. Often a descriptive shorthand for not a change of emotional cadence but merely in a work’s volume or number of voices being heard at any given time. Alexander’s latest, with its emotional gears ever in flux, is an example of true aural cinematics, a journey not necessarily of distance but atmosphere.

On New Years of 2007 while in Italy, Alexander decided to free the music in his head, executing every aspect of it himself, following his own rules which allowed for greater possibilities as there were none of the confines of music/studio orthodoxy.

As I sat to give my first listen I purposely held off on reading the liner notes and anything about the work. It can be an interesting exercise, seeing if an artist’s intent matches up to how it makes one feel, especially with music. The work (s) form a sort of programmatic tone poem for the 21st century loosely revolving around a mime (in my mind closer to Pierrot and the classic European Commedia dell’Arte) working his magic in a small theater. One can enjoy the work while having no idea of the program, not necessarily the subject but the sense of mystery comes clearly through.

The very start of the piece, there is the sense of something emerging from the primordial ooze or a thick curtain of fog, out from behind this curtain steps the entertainer. Alexander has invented new instruments, utilized for this album which draw from the DNA of Asian, Arabic and American reed instruments. There are parts where the voice of a specific instrument can be heard but even as it seems to offer a recognizable cadence it morphs into something else, perfect kinship to the voices and sounds one may hear in dreams, sometimes familiar but then changing as its source moves about the dreamscape. There are at the beginning bass organ like pulses and electro tendrils of random thoughts, perhaps birthed from the collective unconscious of the audience. While no synthesizers were used, some sounds were treated, a tinkling piano descends, kissed electronically, it stoops even lower, Dali’s dripping clocks hanging off of the branches. The Electro washes of sound which occur throughout the work avoid the mindless repetition and rise above being mere sonic filler. They show some of the intellectual potential inherent but not often utilized in the Electro-Ambient genre.

The snap of snare drums are as if the ringmaster calls attention to the next section of mystery. There is a slow undulating sense of tension, the things of reveries grafted onto the stagescape of Cirque Medrano. The music is unabashedly dense but never self-indulgent as can happen with such intricate slow shifting patterns of sound. The sound of the CDs throughout is pristine. A flute of butterflies turns sharper, its now nasal in cadence emerging from the shadows of a recessed doorway in a Tangiers marketplace. One follows these exotic strains into the zocalo. The butterflies turn into wasps, shiny black jewels dotting the various pyramids of fruit and honeyed pastries.

The snare drum brings you back to the theater, the darkness a relief from the sun and conscious thought. The silence is the razor’s edge of the crowds’ quietude, the mime conjuring up his invisible world and the tension of seeing a trick well done. It is entertainment, under the surface of which one can sense mystery and the camaraderie shared with magic and all of the other silent things of the stage.

The set comes with liner notes by Lawrence Cosentino. The CDs slip into the cardboard sleeves, a design I am not a fan of as eventually they could scratch. The sleeve itself opens photo album fashion is black with silver lettering, it feels solid and looks good. The cover image is reminiscent of a Jean Cocteau or some other Montparnassian’s drawing of someone casting a spell. This music is challenging but well worth one’s while. It is the score for daydreams tinted in dark colors and feeling like smoke in one’s hand.

For more information about Alexander Berne you can go to his website at: http://www.alexanderberne.com/

 
*This article is not to be used or reprinted without the expressed permission of Maxwell A. Chandler (maxwellachandler@aol.com)

Beats The Day: A Conversation With Guilhem Flouzat

Parisian drummer/composer Guilhem Flouzat, now residing in NYC; takes time out of his busy schedule to chat about non-musical influences on his art, why methods matter, the perceptions and realities of jazz in Europe and Stateside and how it all helps keep him on the path…following his muse.

Maxwell Chandler: Your early background was not in music but in philosophy, for which you received a degree from the Sorbonne. Have you found that not starting initially as a musician you have a slightly different take on the (artistic) field more so than someone who has made a go of it from their youth?

Guilhem Flouzat: There is a reflexive side of me which probably owes a lot to this background, and overall I like to think that my references and models come from every creative field, from philosophy to literature or Cinema. Philosophy has nurtured me as a composer but it has also been a lot of hard work to catch up with over talented musicians who have been playing their whole life! I get tremendous wisdom lessons from musicians who never did anything else.

MC: What was it that made you first turn your attention towards jazz? Do you recall a specific defining moment?

GF: My mother sent me to a summer camp when I was 15, called “Jazz Children” which basically rocked my world. It was two weeks of playing, jamming, with master classes by jazz greats and the opportunity to open for these jazz legends in the festival that closed the workshop. People like Elvin Jones, Ray Barreto and Dianne Reeves came to this festival. I have to confess that my true heroes were the teachers with whom I got to hang out! I had started playing drums a few years before but it was there that I found out about playing in a band and also the tremendous high to be on stage; sharing the music with the audience and peers…and improvising! It’s there I met Michael Valeanu, who plays guitar on my album.

MC: You come from Paris. It has often been observed that the European scene for jazz tends to be more respectful/serious in terms of cultural importance as opposed to The States, where money making pop (music) has long been king to the record companies and concert venues. Did you feel any sense of culture shock once in America, feeling perhaps that jazz has become marginalized to the non-fan?

GF:: I would say that the main difference between the States and Europe comes from the State’s policy about culture. In France, art is subsidized by the state to a much greater ex-tent than in the States; where as a jazz musician you basically have to sustain yourself. That gives jazz musicians in the US an edge as far as business is concerned, which can be noticed from very early on!

I do not feel that the connection to a broader audience is stronger in France, though. Most big jazz festivals include big names from the pop or “world music” scene, whatever that term means, and jazz is considered highbrow by most of the audience. I also really appreciate the fact that musicians in the States are more open to many musical genres, less into stylistic boundaries.

MC: There is a tradition which goes back to jazz’s nascence of the established, older players taking the younger up and coming ones under their wings, largely while on the road. You have studied under John Riley, Bill Stewart and Eric Harland in a more formalized scholastic setting. Aside from the larger acts, the tour circuits available to a jazz player are largely gone. Is a component of what kept jazz in a constant state of evolutionary flux now missing?

GF: It’s true that the economic and professional world in which jazz evolves has changed drastically. Less tours, more self promotion, Facebook and Twittering as part of your professional practice; that will certainly change the music to a great extent. Still I think that the contact with older players remains a capital part of a musician’s growth, in an informal setting. You can’t always get it with tours but sessions are easy to set up and in New York most of your musical heroes are accessible. I believe the most important part still happens outside of class! Eric Harland I met by approaching him and setting up a master class with other drummers. Most of what I learned from him was rubbing off just by being around him when he’s in the city.

MC: What non-musical things go into forming and expanding your artistic identity and how big of a factor does your physical location play into it?

GF: The more I walk this path of music, the more I get the feeling that there can’t be a separation between your musical identity and who you are, what you see, experience, look for or even eat! All the artists I look up to nurture their creativity with something else than pure music: Wayne Shorter with movies, Herbie Hancock with technology, both of them with Buddhism, Eric Harland with spirituality, and I’m just naming the most obvious of their hobbies. I feed myself with books, movies, paintings, love and friendships. I feel lucky to be in New York for the overflow of esthetic information which characterizes this city and the intensity of its people. This energy and restlessness play a tremendous role in my evolution.

MC: From sideman (Tony Tixier, Nicola Sergio and Nicola Andrioli) to leading your own ensemble, do you find one affords you more freedom in your playing?

GF: I do not experience such a great difference as a player, perhaps a greater sense of responsibility when I’m leading but the objective remains to serve the music and help the players soar. If freedom is to be found, it has to be together! That can happen in both set-tings.

MC: One Way or Another is your new album. It is comprised of all original material. Duke Ellington, for example used to write for specific members of his band when working on a piece. Listening to the tightness of this album one gets a similar impression.

GF: Thanks! I actually have a very hard time writing pieces that are not specifically for certain players. Almost the entire album was written thinking about these players because they are strong personal and musical influences for me. As a leader, I wanted to leave as much room as possible for their universes within mine; my ears were wide open for their suggestions. The last thing I wanted was for the music to be mine only! Ellington takes this to stratospheric levels! One of the projects I have is to write a series of pieces as a gallery of portraits of the musicians I live and play with, based on their language.

MC: Were any of the pieces road tested before going into the studio? Is doing such a thing a help or hindrance to keeping a degree of spontaneity within the piece?

GF: To my regret, all the music was rehearsed right before the recording, and I’m only road testing it now! The creativity and excellence of these players helped them get into the music instantaneously and I have been playing with some of them for my whole musical life. There definitely was a chemistry in the studio but I’m still finding things out about these pieces! I think road testing can only be a good thing.

MC: Have you found that any of the pieces have gone through a sort of sea change in their journey from studio to stage or vice versa?

GF: Most of the pieces are pretty carefully articulated. They have kept their shape for the most part but I’m starting to have more fun with them because I do not play them with the same people in France as in the States. There’s a lot that can change within them! Tunes are a little like people, they sometimes reveal themselves to you as time goes by. If not the structure or the harmony then the energy of some of these tunes has evolved.

MC: Do you feel that live, your work must be heard in a sort of site specific environment (i.e. only clubs, theaters et al)?

GF: I’ve experienced playing this music mostly in clubs but I dream of playing it in movie theaters, in greater sized halls. It does take a certain kind of focused listening to delve into it but I’ve seen people enjoy it loudly at happy hour! I’m striving to create music that will touch people anywhere it’s played but the fact that I’m a “jazz musician” kind of narrows it down for now! I have a project of creating a movie-concert, where we perform over images, which allows me to perform outside of jazz clubs

MC: When writing or arranging a piece is a future performance venue given any thought?

GF: Not really, my focus is primarily on the musicians who will play it. It would be a great experience to write music for a specific place though!

MC: The flavor of your work sort of straddles a number of genres while also adding your own thing to the mix. How important if at all is it to try to categorize your work’s genre?

GF: I’m still constantly finding out about musical genres these days and I remember with delight having to pick from the numerous genres that Myspace offered to define my mu-sic. Ukulele, hard rock, Transprogressive, Neowave… I think genres are meant to help listeners find their way but they don’t mean much if anything at all to the music itself.

I listen to basically anything that triggers an emotion within me. More than categorizing my work, I’m trying to link it to other forms of art; to give for instance a few images to the audience before I play a piece, to help trigger the imagination, or to explain the source of a tune. I call that “cinematic” and I’m sure somebody else before me already came up with that idea!

MC: I think regardless of the medium, everyone has a sort of romanticized vision of what life as an artist would be like. What was the biggest surprise you faced?

GF: To find out that to be a musician today one has to be even more organized and business oriented than for most office jobs!

MC: Thank you for your time.

For more information about Guilhem Flouzat’s music you can go to his website at: http://guilhemflouzat.com/

*This article is not to be used or reprinted without the expressed permission of Maxwell A. Chandler

Keep the Z’s: Ralph Carney’s Serious Jass Project

Ralph Carney is more than merely a multi-instrumentalist (sax, clarinet, harmonica, and banjo). His muse is a sort of nail soup which has kept this artist’s artist body of work compelling and diverse. His new album Ralph Carney’s Serious Jass Project is a sort of paean to the era of juke joints, rent parties and (friendly) cutting contests at The Apollo.

The album is made up with the exception of the last track entirely of covers. “Blue Creek Hop” is from tough Texas tenor Buddy Tate. Like most of the Texas Tenors’ (Arnett Cobb, Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson, Illinois Jacquet et al) pieces and many to be found on this album, the song is in the jump blues vein. Jump Blues, while technically the blues, straddled the line between blues and jazz, taking if not always (big band) jazz’s complex charts then the intricacies of their soloist’s statements while also encompassing the catharsis, joyous or sad which is such an integral part of the blues. The song has a raucous air of celebration about it, a parade of honking tenor bar walkers happily singing for their supper as dancers take to the floor. The band has an overall tight but loose approach to execution which makes for it never feeling like a sort of nostalgic covers album.

“Echoes of Harlem” is by Duke Ellington. It starts with a sort of see-saw piano figure. It is the blues as played after hours by cats who worked the supper club circuit. There occurs the sensation of standing still but swaying at the hips; as to peripherally be able to see back to another era. The purr of the alto (sax) is the blue come hither of the night. The baritone sax and muted “wah” of the trumpet are the background noises, the ordering of drinks, trying out lines of seduction, that leak into one’s existence when out for the evening.

“Gypsy Without a Song” is another Ellington penned piece. It starts off beautiful and near delicate with the clarinet leading the way. It is the alluring woman you get to dance with but whose name is lost to the undulating ambient noise of the crowd, everything else about her being recalled later at a predawn diner over coffee for one. Throughout the piece, the woody notes of the clarinet are all the burnished amber of bourbon had before being able to cross the floor to where she stood. Its romance and the blues; one always eventually following the other, sour making the sweet all the more so.

“Linger Awhile” begins with a stuttered piano calliope. There is a Nino Rota feel to it, the circus atmosphere with Giulietta Masina in her blue striped Picasso shirt and grease painted face reiterated by both the whistles at the song’s start and the overall sort of dancing rhythmic figures.

The sound throughout is pristine. The band is clearly having fun but there are no sonic short hands in their execution. The album’s overall effect is that of what occurs when a thinking fella gets the blues but wants to dance. It makes a great addition to the oeuvre of Ralph’s eclectic Americana

Ralph Carney: bass, baritone tenor, c-melody, alto and soprano saxophones, b-flat and bass clarinets, flute, trumpet, English horn, lap steel guitar, vocals.

Randy Odell: drums
Ari Munkres: bass
Michael Mcintosh: keyboards, vocal feature on Pompton Turnpike
Special guests:
Karina Denike vocals on Carnival in Caroline & Linger Awhile
Mike Groh: guitar on Blue Creek Hop, Linger Awhile and Carnival in Caroline

More information:
www.akroncracker.com

**This article is not to be reproduced or used without expressed permission of Maxwell A. Chandler.

Ralph Carney at Yoshis

Multi-instrumentalist, genre defying Ralph Carney will be at Yoshis in Oakland on November 21st! He will be performing with Gaucho – a gypsy jazz venture.

Find more information here:

http://www.yoshis.com/oakland/jazzclub/artist/show/2300 or at Ralph’s site: http://www.myspace.com/ralphcarney

The Genius of Two: Heiner Stadler’s “Tribute to Bird and Monk”

The importance to modern jazz of the contributions from both Charlie “Bird” Parker (1920-1955) and Thelonious Sphere Monk (1917-1982) can never be overstated. Both furthered the evolution of the art form, Bird with inspiring and freeing up generations of improvisatory soloists, Monk with both his highly individualized playing and compositions; some of which have become a part of jazz’s lexicon.
The passage of time has had several marked effects upon both their legacies. With Bird there is one of generations, the further forward we move in time the less direct influence he seems to have in regards to inspiration on young musicians. The players Bird inspired or even the disciples of the disciples are more often cited as major influences. It is interesting though that despite this Bird’s reputation and mythos has not fallen by the wayside as happened with other once important musicians such as Chu Berry (1908-1941), Coleman Hawkins (1904-1969) or Illinois Jacquet (1922-2004). It was not just the fluidic space his soloing occupied but the overall conceptions of soloing that made Bird stand out; he radically reworked the nature of soloing. And now, the then radical notions of bop have become accepted standards. The “next” Bird would have to not be as fleet of fingers but come up with his own radical departure. There are some, such as Eric Dolphy (1928-1964) who arguably could be said to be heir apparent. He faces the disadvantage of leaving behind a powerful body of work but done in all too brief a time. Also, the possible excitement his work might have caused was back then tempered by all the other innovations going on at a time when jazz was once again in a state of flux and if one were to read archived magazines and newspapers, the curse of all innovators, a faction of the public who did not understand what he was doing.
Monk’s reputation and totemic power has not dipped in the way that Bird’s has, possibly because he was around much longer. Instead Monk has been reduced to an almost shorthand by musicians and journalists, now being described as the purveyor of elliptical rhythms and a wry playfulness. For sure those were aspects of his makeup but like all artists who further and add to the evolution of their medium what somewhat became forgotten once the initial struggle to gain exposure and acceptance for their work is achieved is the bravery involved in such a struggle.
Although sui generis the likes of which had not previously been seen, both artists used components from what had come before them, built off of and combined with their own ideas to form distinctly original voices.
With Monk, when covering one of his compositions other composers and musicians have taken what they wanted from the inner workings of a song, to emphasize their idea of Monk and create a sort of collaborative piece where Monk is ultimately deferred to. There are deconstructions, “in the style of”, re-imaginings and original compositions in honor of Monk which utilize harmonic or rhythmic components but overall when doing a Monk song there is very little directly building off of to be found.
By the late 70’s jazz had become marginalized. Post big band “modern jazz” was no longer the new thing, the even more recent free genre had lost some of its luster. Rock had become the music of youth and rebellion and straight out acoustic jazz became lost in the shuffle, faced in the market place with a cold shoulder and general disinterest. The jazz that still was receiving interest was a sort of hybrid, fused with rock and roll. Even when someone like Miles Davis embraced this fusion there was not the sense of new branches being grafted onto the family tree of jazz. Things were bleak with non-fusion artists finding themselves in a sort of no man’s land. As frustrating as this was to artists not wanting to go in the direction then en vogue, this time of commercial “failure” did free some up to further explore and stretch forms as record sales were no longer a major factor. In small clubs, parts of Europe and the downtown loft scene (NYC) artists could explore.
Heiner Stadler (b. 1942) is a German arranger/composer/musician. He moved to New York City in the mid sixties where he became involved with the modern classical composers on the scene (John Cage, Meredith Monk et al) while also producing concerts by electric bluesmen such as Albert King and John Lee Hooker. Heiner seems to have fully absorbed Duke Ellington’s maxim that there are only two types of music, good and bad, not worrying about genre stylistic restrictions. His album can said to be a tribute to these two titans in the most meaningful way, using the trails which they blazed as a starting point to further expand upon. His arrangements mixing in his affection for the blues, an important element of jazz’s DNA no matter the era and aspects of modern classical which allows for a foreword looking complexity that embraces both Europe and America.
The ensemble is a sextet expanded to a septet with the addition of Warren Smith on tympani for two tracks.
The program is made up of six songs, three from each artist. Two of the Bird songs are lesser known which further adds to the compelling newness of the album’s overall feel.
The first track is a lesser known Bird tune “Air Conditioning”. This is a great choice as while listening there is no initial distraction of going down a mental list of how part of the bop cannon has been altered or added to. It starts as a lot of early bop tunes did, with the horns playing in unison and fast. Stanley Cowell (b 1941) on piano does staccato jabs which serve to add further over all density to what is already being established by the rhythm section. Having been on the bandstand with Max Roach, Bobby Hutcherson and Roland Kirk his playing has a rhythmic, percussive effect to it with a clear, ringing cadence. His past band affiliations have made him comfortable with compositions and musicians who straddle the fence between various genres.
Over the steady pulse of the rhythm section and cascading piano runs George Lewis’s (1952) trombone solos. His playing is rapid but without ever losing articulation. There is a cerebral aspect to George’s playing but not at the cost of the fire.
On paper, Thad Jones (1923-1986) would seem an odd choice to help man the front line. This musician/arranger/composer first came to the publics’ conscious as a member of Count Basie’s New Testament Band where he shared soloing duties and did some arranging. This band had intricate arrangements, modern for their time. In 1965 he formed The Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra. It has been said that this band brought big band into the modern age. In some ways it served as a precursor to this album in featuring dense intricate pieces incorporating elements from a diverse collection of styles. The fact that he is also an arranger gives his playing an inherent understanding; the idiom of the piece never gets in his way. He plays his horn with a punchy, aggressive tone that has a sort of “free” feel to it. His solo is surprisingly short but seems to feed multi-reedist George Adams (1940-1992) here soloing on tenor. His solo is the one which adheres closest to the free jazz tenets yet still possess some recognizable blue(s) tinge. George spent time with Gil Evans, one of third stream genres progenitors and with Charles Mingus who also created a un-creditited genre (usually lumped into big band, free or third stream) where he had suite like pieces that incorporated both blues and modern elements of discordance within a score while also leaving room for the soloists to improvise. Having been in two such forward thinking ensembles has allowed George to be able to play within any complex framework with soul.
Reggie Workman’s (b 1937) bass initially has an articulated rumble which serves to sort of anchor the piece, serving as a foundation upon which the other musician can build. Like the rest of the musicians on this date his experience is one of having served in some progressive minded ensembles which like his band mate here Thad Jones, included a stint with Thelonious Monk himself. Towards the end of the song there are a number of bass pulse points, then all the other instruments drop away leaving the stark effect of a bass playing solo over the course of which there are buoyant drones that give way to beautiful almost viol like bowing.
Drummer Lenny White (1949) first made his bones on Miles Davis’ ground breaking Bitches Brew (1970). He was a great admirer of Miles’ previous drummer Tony Williams and on this piece shows himself to be cut from the same cloth as he offers up his own take on the seemingly tireless locomotion that was so much Tony’s forte. The reemergence of the drums signals a return to the layers of other instrumental voices. The bass goes back to its walking and the song ends as it began. To know a song then hear a cover, part of the enjoyment to be had is seeing how a piece is changed, this introductory piece shows that one need not be familiar with an existing version of a work to get pleasure from it.
Within the body of his oeuvre Monk performed “Misterioso” many times. There were lots of variations to how he presented it which depended upon both his band and the venue/record date but the one constant is the ascending/descending melodic riff. With this version it is present, starting out the piece below percussive bursts and sort of staggered as a call and response between trumpet and sax with piano joining in and creating a of going against the tide, churning feel. The familiar melody is dissolved, giving way to a percussion duet which could be an aural stand in for the thunderous presence of one of Stravinski’s pagan sages. Over the rolling drums the piano offers bits of the familiar theme as if clipped from a score, more of the familiar notes are heard but then the tempo is sped up and experimented with. Almost as a north star point of reference the theme is again presented this time over the cacophony of percussion by horn and saxophone just slightly out of synch before everything drops away to give rise to lone bass. There is a singing quality to the bass solo interspersed with some drones which have an almost electric sounding cadence in their sustain. Towards the end of its solo statement the bass is bowed in its upper register sounding almost like a morin khuur with its neighing characteristic.
Throughout the piece the mood is kept the same, a sort of modern discordance but the adding and subtracting of layers keeps it from becoming stale. The slowed down section immediately following the bass solo allows drama to almost creep in just by having the empty spaces previously taken up by other voices or the discordance of the quicker paced sections. The song ends with a unified frenzy that gives way to a single sustained piano note that falls back into silence.
When this album was originally released it was a two record set, now on one CD and remixed by Malcolm Addey with the sound being very good. The original liner notes by Robert Palmer are reproduced along with some new ones by Howard Mandel.
What makes an album or musician important? It is their influence and contributions to their medium. But something can merely be “good” but well worth our while. Through shopping online and the modern ease of travel it has become apparent what a wide selection of jazz in every genre from every era there is to be had. It has allowed both the connoisseurs and more casual listeners to cherry pick as a sort of best of the best mentality has become pervasive. While this is not an “important” album it is very enjoyable even in the challenges it presents listeners, challenges which swim in the same stream as works by Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor, Edgar Varese and Gyorgy Ligeti. While this CD is not necessarily going to convert people to some of the free genres it straddles it does present an organic extension of a direction birthed from the musical freedom thought up by two of jazz’s titans all those years ago.

Thad Jones:cornet (flugelhorn on “Perhaps”)
George Adams: tenor saxophone (flute on “Perhaps”)
George Lewis: trombone
Stanley Cowell: piano
Reggie Workman: bass
Lenny White: drums
Warren Smith: timpani on “Misterioso” & “Perhaps”
Cecil Bridgewater: trumpet (replaces Thad Jones on “Ba-lue Bolivar Ba-lues are”)

More information: www.laborrecords.com

Note: All articles are copy written to the author and not for use without express permission.

Marbin: Breaking the Cycle

The second album from the Chicago, by way of Israel, duo Marbin finds them expanding the band’s line up. Added now to the roster are a bassists, drummer and percussionist. Having already deftly mastered the layering of sound on their first album via multi-tracking, the enlarged ensemble allows for more sonic possibilities occurring with a live feel. From their last album to this current one should not be seen as a radical departure but just a further evolution using to great effect the different device of other players.
Loopy starts off with tribal sounding drums sounding out the beat under some fat synthesizer like lines. Here the band shows that it can draw inspiration from sources such as the Robert Fripp/Adrian Belew era King Crimson while avoiding some of the more indulgent aspects that could come to the fore with progressive rock. There is a rapid fire soprano sax solo by Danny Markovitch which forgoes the nasal cadence sometimes utilized by players and is bolstered by the switch of emphasis in the rhythm from tribal tom-tom beat to cymbal work. Both Jamey Haddad (percussion) and Paul Wertico (drums) are able to tightly weave their percussive patterns together which give the piece not just a greater sonic complexity but also mass and density while avoiding sounding like merely pulses of sound. The guitar solo by Dani Rabin which closes out the song has the classic overdriven tube amp cadence and has a forward thrust momentum furthered by the rest of the band and despite its virtuosity never seems overly fussy. Although the song starts off in the more traditional band sounding mode it climaxes with the dense layering of sound that made their first album so enjoyable. The tension is resolved at the songs finish by the initial theme and melody being re-instated.
Aside from their just music being genre defying, on parts of different pieces the band likes to sometimes blur the distinction of an instrument’s identity, the cadence of a lead line being possibly midi-guitar or synthesizer. They will then add the more easy to recognize voices to that which keeps the listener invested in the song as it allows for the maintaining of an overall organicness.
A Serious Man starts with a samba flavored percussion and legato sax. Steve Rodby’s bass has a full tone which manages to really fill out the song while remaining subtly below the main action of the sax’s lines and doubled up guitar, which strums in a more traditional jazz sounding idiom and also Gitane finger picking style. As with a lot of pieces in their oeuvre, this piece has a cinematic feel. One could imagine a deco hotel lobby with well turned out guests looking at each other sideways waiting for the mystery to play out.
Mom’s Song starts with a vocalese and sort of guitar mélange that radiates aspects of 60’s folk and 50’s ballad-twang type of an atmosphere. The song has a deceptively simple melodic structure, the enjoyment of which becomes apparent by the piece’s ability to sort of seem timeless in regards to its duration. It is not the most dramatic song to be found on the album but one of the best examples of the luscious headphone landscape to be traversed as subtle electro blips and bass swells among other things become more apparent with headphones.
Bar Stomp is one of my favorite tracks on the album. It is raucous blues which upon first listen is a showcase for guitar but the duel drums’ rhythmic pattern upon repeated listens proves to be equally as impressive as they lock into a groove. The song shows the change brought about by the addition of more band members. Dani and Danny can continue using their innate talent of painting their sonic collages with overdubbing but now with a further expanded palette brought about by the presence of musical confreres.
Burning Match again returns to the cinematic, the soprano sax sounding slightly like a clarinet and with the noir strolling bass intro giving the feeling of a Poirot like hero contemplating the mystery or maybe just a women. The song morphs with the introduction of a sustain heavy guitar, still image rich but perhaps turning the movie into a double feature of which this is the second part.
The Old Silhouette starts with a soft voiced soprano statement and percussion beating out an arabesque type of pattern. The guitar comes in with the flinty cadence of a good white wine, verging at times on sounding like lap steel played through a vintage tube amplifier. The song has a sort of desert vibe to it, is the old silhouette that of the sphinx or maybe merely the equally as old dunes themselves. This song shows how seamlessly the new members have been both integrated and utilized to further the artistic evolution of a new and worthwhile band.
The album clocks in at 43 minutes long and as was the case with their debut stands up to repeated listening. A lot of newer bands that embrace jazz or at least some aspects of it rely on mannerisms more than a style; from album to album the songs may change but not the execution. They also avoid any sense of gimmick, clearly there is some rock in their roots but there is no attempt at novelty by attempting Beatle or Nirvana covers. Here is a band who holds steady to their vision while avoiding repetition and allowing the audience to witness their growth.

More information: marbinmusic.com/marbin/

Witness to the Two: Aaron Alexander & Julian Priester Conversational Music

When jazz was still in its nascence from New Orleans to Chicago, its structure was more open ended. The most constant aspect, no matter who the players were was the flights of improvisation via the solos. One player would feed the next the theme to expound upon. A lot of great early moments happened spontaneously and live, in the small semi secret clubs and rent parties. As capturing it for posterity was not necessarily a consideration nor even an ambition, there were none of the time constraints due to the then technical limitations of 78 records.
Hot Jazz gave way to swing and then big band. There would still remain socio-economic and racial barriers not just in music but throughout the country but with the start of swing jazz did start reaching a wider audience. As jazz shed and grew out from some of its Storyville past a populist (entertainment) aspect slowly crept in. As a way to compromise, not artistically but to be able to keep audiences entertained while also achieving the artistic satisfaction akin to what was felt at the after hours jams part of the stage show would often encompass duels or cutting contests. It is a little like the chicken or egg argument in regards to whether this started to inspire partnerships, duos within a group such as Herschel Evans and Lester Young in one of the early incarnations of Count Basie’s band.
A bunch of factors which included the big bands having been pared down losing members due to World War II call up, a record making strike due to both materials and a union dispute and greater exposure Western Classical tradition coalesced to help usher in a musical revolution whose chief progenitors gathered initially at Minton’s Playhouse (NYC). During the first flush of this new art form came also the desire to be respected more as artists than entertainers. During this slow move towards a new way of looking at musicians, cutting contests and duos still existed; desired by both audience and the artists themselves.
The stripped down size of an ensemble, usually a quartet or quintet became the accepted post war norm. As jazz continued to increase in complexity and possibilities a long chain of great partnerships emerged which would be one part battle one part duets, typified by such tenor teams as Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis and Johnny Griffin et al.
The late fifties, early sixties saw jazz birth genres and sub-genres. By the mid-sixties forms were not merely stretched but shattered or ignored. The until then typical duets of two saxes occurring within the framework of an ensemble. Now there were duets of two different instruments with no others to bolster the start or finish of a duet or provide framework in which they would occur.
Musician/composers such as Max Roach, Anthony Braxton, Mal Waldron, Archie Shepp and others created albums and concerts which in their best moments showed what only two musicians in simpatico with each other could achieve.
As rock became the new soundtrack of youth and the outsiders, jazz found itself becoming greatly marginalized. Acts that did not want to graft on rock leanings or peddle nostalgia found themselves largely out in the cold stateside. Commercially it was bleak times for jazz musicians but artistically there began a cross pollination of ideas and inspiration from ethnic musics, especially Africa and India and modern European classical. This further breaking of boundaries created a body of work in some artists that, although containing or built off of improvisations is only tenuously jazz and to which it would be both more respectful and accurate to describe it as (a type of) modern classical.
The best of these duet offerings gives the feeling to the listener that they are being allowed to ease-drop on a good conversation or voyeur like, witness two artists explore, as Picasso described himself and Braque inventing cubism;
“Like two mountain climbers roped together.”
The aptly titled new CD Conversational Music by Aaron Alexander and Julian Priester reiterates for all to hear the appeal of this type of work.
Chicago native Julian like many of his generation initially cut his teeth on the R&B circuit, playing with such luminaries as Muddy Waters and Bo Diddley. He would participate in a mid-50’s incarnation of the genre defying Sun Ra orchestra; home at one time or another to many forward thinking greats. By the end of the 1950’s Julian found himself in New York as part of Lionel Hampton’s band. A tour of Australia where costs had to be cut pre-tour found Julian out of a job. Saxophonist Eddie Chamblee who was then part of a newly formed group backing Dinah Washington was able to hire Julian on. When Chamblee moved on Julian was offered the position of musical director but he also departed. An introduction via sax titan Johnny Griffin to Orrin Keepnews landed him a job in the shipping department of Orrin’s Riverside Records. This was not necessarily as disheartening as it may sound for other up and coming greats including Philly Joe Jones, Kenny Drew and Wilbur Ware also worked the department from which talent was recruited to also record.
From this initial loose knit federation of musicians started Julian’s career as sideman and eventually, leader. Julian was called upon to join Max Roach’s band after tuba player Ray Draper left. The foreword thinking of Max’s compositions and execution would inspire Julian and become a hallmark of his own art as well.
Julian would find himself playing with the who’s who of progressively minded musician/composers including John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Sam Rivers and Booker Little. 1969 saw him playing with Duke Ellington briefly (six months). This was not a step back to nostalgia as Duke had always embraced musical possibilities brought out by what was new and by this time had created a large body of work which contained equal parts songs, suites and works whose au courant air was organic and showed that Duke moved organically with the times.
After Duke Ellington started an association with Herbie Hancock. Herbie had been in Miles Davis’ second great quintet and the start of Mile’s electro-African experiments (On the Corner/In a Silent Way/A Tribute to Jack Johnson) which served as a template for his own with his Mwandishi/Headhunters ensembles which Julian would become part of (Mwandishi). The music Julian helped create with this group largely stands the test of time and avoids a lot of the noodling indulgence that would become a later hallmark of the fusion movement. Songs like the Julian penned “Wandering Spirit” and “Water Torture” easily show themselves to be among the early precursors of techno-ambient movement.
The one constant in the diverse list of artists with whom Julian worked is a sort of questing and exploration which ultimately leads to artistic evolutions. Post Mwandishi Julian was able to record as leader for ECM (1974 Love, Love 1977 Polarization) while living in San Francisco. The 1980’s the early part of which was like a harsh winter for jazz saw Julian moving to Seattle where he started to teach at The Cornish College of the Arts while also playing in Dave Holland’s quintet. The next decade he continued his work with the quintet while also contributing to Charlie Haden’s Liberation Music Orchestra. Towards the decade’s end Julian was in ill health and needed a liver transplant which happened in 2000. Post transplant he released his first album as leader in twenty five years In Deep End Dance (2002 Conduit Records) the start of another phase of his career which has included more collaborations and explorations.
Conversational Music was recorded in 2007 with drummer composer Aaron Alexander. Aaron first met Julian as a student at Cornish in 1982. Aaron is a perfect foil for Julian on this album as like the music itself he is not tethered to the traditional structure and idiom of jazz. Aaron is a strong composer in his own right whose writings are flavored by his association with his Klezmer and world music projects. In common with Julian is the diversity of projects Aaron has been involved with, from his own “Midrash Mish Mosh” ensemble to his associations and collaborations with Hasidic new wavers “Babkas”, The Klezmatics, Satoko Fuji Orchestra and many others. His busy schedule has seen him tour the globe appearing at many world music festivals and multi media appearances including BET Live (with Hasidic New Wave), A Prairie Home Companion (Klezmatics) and The Joseph Papp Public Theater. Although separated by an age difference, artistically they are similar in drawing from a rich broad spectrum of influences and inspirations. Also in common with Julian, Aaron would eventually find himself taking on the role of educator while still delving into sundry projects.
“Ariella Carmen” is a slower tempoed piece which features soft, beautiful brush work by Aaron that bolsters the contemplative murmuring of the Julian’s trombone. This piece serves almost as an artistic mission statement for the rest of the album in conveying the intimacy involved in the overall execution of each piece.
“Gerald Stephen” is of a quicker tempo and finds Julian playing near bop like runs punctuated by bass drum pulses and percussive washes which sonically fill in the empty spaces while never distracting by being overly busy. Julian’s tone is almost flugel horn like and possessing a great fluidic cadence. Aaron shows within the space of the piece how he can vary his attack and create great tension not just by merely switching tempo but texture too, something not every straight out jazz drummer bothers with.
“DrumBone” shows the sense of drama the duo is able to achieve via layering and also their amazing sense of interplay. Upon hearing this piece the fact that this is improvised music one is listening to is made all the more impressive.
“Life on Mars” makes fantastic use of pauses and empty space. The warm ambience to be found throughout the album is really highlighted alongside the musicians on this piece. The recording quality is pristine and although the program consists of fifteen original songs, one could easily listen and mistake it as one modern suite or perhaps a grand day dream movement.
“Wex” is bluesy and one of my favorite tracks. It conjures up the blues and the infinite coolness of all things nocturnal. The drums have a sort of swinging sensibility to them which with the bubbling and plaintive lines of trombone show that this duo has not forsaken the bluesy roots of jazz but respectfully built off of them.
“Kocmierozki’s Shed” has a sort of Gamelan feel to it. It is a sonic haiku of what is remembered upon waking from a dream. With its gongs and the small patterns that emerge and disappear it is that unexpected mystery one may encounter which turns out to be such a joy, leaving it unsolved is its own kind of pleasure.
“Cymbalinese” starts with sort of dense cymbal splash patterns and throughout the piece is without trombone. From the initial percussive pattern others emerge and the effect is like watching the rings made in a puddle by a rain drop overwritten by the next to fall in.
“Evolver” underlines the dialogue which has occurred between these two artists. Here the trombone lines are played out in a series of long slow lines while the drums dance all around them. Here one colors the other, spurring each on in contemplation that is then shared.
Conversational Music is a little under an hour long with brief liner notes on inside cover. This aptly titled album shows two artists of different generations that have combining head and heart in their works in common. Improvatory modernism need not be a by word for (sonic) discordance, yet can still pack an emotional punch as is proven over the course of fifteen highly recommended tracks.

MORE INFORMATION:

http://www.aaronalexander.com/index.htm

Sure Shot: Hawkeye featuring Sam Bevan, Mas Koga, Grant Levin and Bryan Bowman

Hawkeye is a web based release from an ensemble that goes by their names in lieu of a band name. They have been performing together as a cohesive unit for a year but before that had played together on other dates and in various configurations. Sam and Bryan have a decade long association and Chicago transplant Grant seamless fit in, further adding to the chemistry. The album is comprised of a program of all originals written by the band.

The title track starts with soprano, here played in a less nasal cadence than as sometimes occurs when a multi-reedist grew up listening to John Coltrane or Wayne Shorter. The piano takes over, playing the same stated melody as had been started by the sax, dropping back to comp behind the once again present horn. The bass here is more a sonic component adding to the aural mosaic and less a mere time keeping device. It has a deep yet buoyant tone. It is during the piano break under which hi-hats play that the over all tastefulness of the how and what in the band’s interplay really becomes apparent. Sam, who has never been about flash yet manages to make his bass sing, literally accompanies himself with a solo that refrains from cauterizing the listener’s emotions via an overly virtuosic statement. Here is an artist having fun and inviting the audience to enjoy his pleasure. The piece’s tension is realized at its end section where the horn alternates between long lines and a flurry of trilled notes before the melody is reinstated. The verging on aggression discordance, used sparingly at the piece’s end prevents the listener from becoming desensitized to it, the pinch of spice the makes the stew pop.

“Miraje” starts with a contemplative bright toned bass statement over which Grant’s piano enters on a cloud of shimmering notes. There is a definite cerebral component to Grant’s playing but not at risk of emotional involvement to the piece or the group/listeners’ engagement. Mas here plays flute, the melody mirrored by piano, a sort of delicate beauty created by the two voices in unison before a piano solo that differs from what was initially said by change of attack and tone. The song has a soft but not overly fragile feel to it, which is pleasant like watching a steady rain hit the façade of a beautiful building. As the piece ends, Grant races himself, an accurate scattering of soft pink-plink notes fading with the song. Clearly the band have a deep affection and understanding of the Free-Bop genre as best conceptualized by Miles Davis’ second great quintet but there is no restriction brought about by trying to adhere strictly to the genre’s rules nor artistic limitation by remaining only within its template.

The sound throughout the sixty one minute album is pristine but enveloped in ambient warmth which is sometimes lost in modern studios. One of the things which allows for the album to stand up to repeated listening is that many of the tracks switch emotional gears over the course of their execution. There is none of that obvious album construction (i.e. a cooker, followed by a ballad).

“Hanabi” is one of the longer tracks on the album and perhaps one of the pieces I most look forward to hearing live. It starts with Zen-like flute a sonic haiku over which percussion slowly and lightly interjects its wisdom. As the percussion maintains a more steady appearance bowed bass enters along with minimalist piano which adds to the piece’s overall feel of a ghost that moves like fog. The tension of the piece is never fully resolved which adds to the overall feeling of mystery.

Jazz is no longer a “young” art form. There are many genres and sub-genres. One is not better nor more important than another. What is important is that jazz stay a living, ever evolving thing. Here is a band to discover, not merely executing compelling versions from the cannon but forging ahead with new songs while managing to stay linked to the past, used as a Rosetta Stone of inspiration.

Sam Bevan-bass
Mas Koga-soprano, alto sax, shakuhachi flute
Grant Levin-piano
Bryan Bowman-drums, tabla

More information:
www.sambevan.com
www.bryanlbowman.com.
www.cdbaby.com/cd/sbmkglbb

Ornette Coleman: Skies of America (Columbia/Legacy)

A word I try not to use too often for fear of devaluing it is genius. In the jazz world there are many players, composers arrangers and even a few producers who are brilliant. Genius how ever you could count on one hand. A recipient of a MacArthur “genius” award (1994), an induction into the American Academy of Arts and letters, and the first recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship for jazz composition only, Ornette Coleman definitely fits into this category.
I must admit that Ornette is not the first thing I automatically reach for every day. For me he is akin to a Truffle. Dark, powerful, mysterious in its fecundity and meant to be enjoyed a little at a time to better savor its rarity.
That is not to say this is not important music. This is actually one of the most important pieces of Modern American art, and unlike a lot of others (in various mediums) it does not largely derives its power from the “shock of the new”. An odd sort of irony is that this manages to be both one of his most accessible works on account of its lack of major free jazz discordance, but also one of his most complex.
The copy of the album I purchased was the new remastered version. The sound is pristine. You hear all the high and low ends no matter what your stereo set up may be. This is the 1972 version and the only commercial recording. This piece had a troubled birth. It was originally supposed to be orchestra with Ornette’s band. A concerto grosso. Due to archaic English union laws the band was not allowed to play, the form and scope of the piece slowly changed. Ornette was only allowed to play having been declared on his work permit/visa a concert composer as opposed to musician.
This work had three incarnations before Ornette moved onto different artistic avenues including a trip to Morocco to live and play in the mountains with The Master Musicians of Joujouka. The album was originally broken up into twenty one “songs” in an attempt to get airplay on the radio. Aside from being a bad idea, this is why the piece is sometimes described as a twenty one movement chamber piece or symphony when in fact it is actually a one movement symphonic tone poem. Aside from cleaned up sound they have gotten rid of the brief dead spaces between each “song” restoring it to its one piece unity which provides a far better cohesiveness and is also what the composer had intended. Another misconception is that this piece is sometimes referred to as “Third stream”
Unlike most third stream music this piece does no forgo stringed instruments. And the orchestra is not just providing a canvas onto which the soloist may paint. Ornette himself makes a very brief appearance during the duration of the piece. Out of twenty one tracks he is heard only on 11,14-19 and 20. In his solo statements listen closely he briefly quotes and morphs “I only have Eyes for You”, “Stranger in Paradise” and most importantly “Rhapsody in Blue” This is all done without irony and without any sense of gimmick. The Gershwin quote is appropriate since they were kindred spirits in their artistic comments on modern American life. For Gershwin, man had just begun the modern age, conquering the sky with both buildings and air travel. There was the promise of lives made easier, things more efficient by the burgeoning modernity, yet there was also a vague apprehension over what we could possibly be loosing, trading in soul for easy comfort. A generation later and the same issues come up in Ornette’s era. Despite unease, both too managed to convey and mix a dose of beauty in with the anxiety.
This truly is modern classical and could easily be mistaken for a piece written by Edgard Varese (1883-1965) or even Petrushka era Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971)
The first most immediately striking aspect of the piece is symphonic timpani beating out poly rhythms alongside a jazz drum kit. A simple but most effective device which I am surprised is not used more often. The orchestra does a fantastic job and give the effect of knowing the piece and what the composer was aiming for as opposed to just playing the charts. Even so, the good job the percussion does makes me lament the fact that Ornette’s usual drummer is absent from this recording.
There are titles for each little “section” but they were put on very much as an afterthought and one should not read too much into the titles. Even without knowing what the album is about, it is rich in mood. The jagged lines and rhythm of the strings manage to create tension but also become sort of mesmerizing. Bubbling up now and then like a new idea are little trios of winds, sometimes all low, sometimes mixing higher pitched reeds with their more mellow sounding brothers. There are tempo changes which are done under many layers of instruments that you feel the effect but do not notice as this device is used. The piece ends in an intricate web of unresolved tensions. This is by no means a Sunday brunch soundtrack. It demands attention and perhaps a connoisseur’s palate. The first day I got this CD I listened to it four times back to back. Each time I felt as if I was moving further back from a giant mosaic which allowed me to more clearly see the whole picture.
In jazz brilliance is good too, though genius trumps and is rarer. If you are into good music, deep music then do not worry about labels, pick this up.

Ornette Coleman-alto sax
The London Symphony Orchestra (David Measham conductor)

Recommended artistic forefathers:

Igor Stravinsky
Petrushka/The Rites of Spring
The Cleveland Orchestra (Pierre Boulez conducting)

Edgard Varese
Ameriques/Arcana/Deserts/Ionisations
The Cleveland Orchestra (Pierre Boulez conducting)

Songs and Stories: Linda Kosut Live at Jazz At Pearls

Jazz At Pearls is located in North Beach, a great San Francisco neighborhood which is a mix of curious tourists and colorful locals. In the 1950’s it was ground zero for the (literary) beat movement and some of that bo-ho flavor remains for the younger generations to absorb.
The room is small enough that there are no bad seats, but not so small as you feel depressed for the artists. Their concert schedule offers an eclectic mix of local heroes and well known names in jazz who would rather forgo the larger less personal venues.
Multi-award winning singer Linda Kosut brought her tribute to Oscar Brown Jr. (1926-2005) “Long As Your Living” to Jazz At Pearls June 22 for two sets. I was there among the capacity crowd for the first set.
Linda possesses a stage presence which is naturally relaxed while also being able to convey the emotions of each song’s story. The set was made up of songs from her Oscar Brown show with which she has been touring the country interspersed with standards which shared similar emotional cadence and feel. In between songs Linda would talk with the audience, sharing the background of a piece’s history. This never disrupted the flow of the set and never felt show-biz-e. There was an instant rapport with the audience which lent an intimacy to the entire set.
I have seen this show in various venues and I appreciate that it is no cookie cutter affair. Every show and set is different while never losing its main theme. This time there was an expanded band too, still led by band leader Max Perkoff there was now an added multi-reedist/flautist Fil Lorenz. I enjoyed the extra colorations that another instrument allowed for, as Fil added further depth to the pieces.
The set opened with the standard “Let’s Get Lost” taken at a brisker pace than usual and lightly samba flavored. John Mader on drums made his brushes delicately dance across the snare while still getting a nice full sound, the piece having none of that E.Q tinkering sometimes encountered at the start of a club show. There was a nice tartly flavored sax break with a piano solo continuing the horn’s conversation. Being a leader of his own ensemble, Max knows the perfect mix of band interplay and interaction with the singer. Listening, you never feel one component of a song has gone on too long or is merely a bone thrown to the band.
“Birth Of The Blues” was a perfect counterpoint to the previous song’s cheery romanticism without bringing the audience down. It was melancholy as a thing to rejoice as it gives something whose passing can be celebrated. There was a soulful, sanctified sax solo worthy of every late night blue note.
As Linda pointed out, Oscar sometimes would add lyrics to standards of the jazz cannon, not always with permission. A cover of Charlie “Bird” Parker’s “Billie’s Bounce” complete with Oscar’s words came next. The piece was fun and sexy, the sister to Oscar’s “Hazel’s Hips”. Max plays both trombone and piano; here he takes a boppish ride on the eighty eight keys. The cymbals sound like rain falling upon the city of the hip while each musician gets a solo statement before passing it off, radiating the fun they are having out to the crowd.
The next song featured both lyrics and music by Oscar, “Column of Birds”. Here the flute acted as the fluttering wings. Linda can use her voice as a musician, varying cadence and volume depending upon the size of the room and the emotion required. Both in lyric and delivery this song was plaintive yet hopeful.
After sharing the interesting history of the lyrics for “Don’t Fence Me In” which Cole Porter bought off Robert Fletcher, came the actual song. The vocals are answered by a stride flavored piano and sassy horn sounding like a friend with whom a playful joke is shared. The vocals are bluesy and hip and would not sound out of place in the halcyon days of cabaret in Paris or Berlin.
The Doc Pomus tune “Save the Last Dance for Me” was performed after an anecdote of the pieces inspiration. This version differs from the more familiar R&B versions in that the poetical intent of the lyrics is more apparent. Without back up singers echoing the songs refrain, there is a darker strain to the song’s protagonist’s emotions.
Leaving the stage, Linda brought one of her protégées Benn Bacot up on stage to sing “You Don’t Know What Love Is.” Benn has strong, natural power in his delivery. He wields a rich baritone which recalls Joe William and Johnny Hartman. In his hands the song became less a fragile lament and more a declaration of heartache and tenacity. For the entire set there was great interplay among the band and with this different vocalist sitting in there was no detectable bump in their performance.
After Linda rejoined the band, Benn would be back for a cover of Nat Adderley’s “Work Song” which Oscar had put lyrics to. His baritone was perfectly tailored to traverse the emotional landscape of the song. Mirroring his blues was a bar walking sax solo devoid of all cliché that style sometimes has.
Daniel Fabricant on bass was a study in tasteful restraint throughout the set. His sound on bass was full but never overwhelmed and there were no over long over flashy solos which can distract from the tension of a piece. One song was performed “Young Jazz” which had lyrics of Oscar Brown over a Lester Young solo arranged into music by Daniel. It got everybody moving in their seats and was the perfect song to end the set with as it served as a reminder that not only was Oscar a poet and activist, but he entertained as well. His art is continuing to be served and served well by Linda and the band.

Further Information:

http://lindakosut.com

http://www.maxperkoff.com/

http://bennbacot.com/