The Two Albums of 2024 That Slayed Me

This is the time of year when music scribes around the world wrack their brains to try and remember everything they listened to, and decide what was the Best. An esteemed colleague of mine recently said that there is no such thing as "the best." And he's right. He went on further to say that it's impossible to compile a list, at least in the realm of jazz music (the industry in which he works) because there are too many damn albums out there to hear in a 12-month period. Those are my words, not his. 

But I agree wholeheartedly. You know why I don't post here more often?  One big reason is because I often don't feel ready to sound off on an album without giving it several detailed listens, getting a good idea of what the performer strives to get across. That takes time away from other albums. Which contributes to my neurosis about never being able to catch up. Overthinking? Yeah, sure. But I don't have an editor here to bust my chops if I get something wrong.

Having said all that, I did compile a Year End list for both The New York City Jazz Record (for which I contribute) and for the 19th Annual Jazz Critic's Poll, which was founded by Francis Davis. Those lists can be seen in a few weeks. Right now I have decided to write about two albums that officially knocked my socks off this year. One kinda, sorta has jazz improvisation in its make-up, the other does not. But both albums need to be heard by more people. So, uh, pay attention, please.

Quivers

Oyster Cuts

(Merge) 

This Melbourne, Australia quartet has released three albums, but Oyster Cuts is their first on the US Merge label. Bella Quinlan (bass), Sam Nicholson (guitar, keys), Michael Panton (guitar) and Holly Thomas (drums) take turns singing, evoking those pre-indie rock days when it was fine for to not have one person fronting the band all the time. The hype sticker on Oyster Cuts made a comparison to Australian forefathers (and - sisters) the Go-Betweens and that was all it took for me to make a blind buy. (I had purchased several of that bands CDs earlier this year in hopes of making up for lost pop time). Little did I know that this would probably be the best blind purchase I made since springing for the Dream Syndicate's The Days of Wine and Roses, based on a review in Creem magazine. 

Quivers occupy a solid corner in the world of dreamy pop, with simple but steady grooves, delicate hooks and guitars that can jangle or wail, depending on the mood. The album opens with the lyric, "All I ever wanted was a true friend/ all I ever wanted was a friend with benefits/ all I ever wanted was transcendence."  From there, the band's take on relationships gets deeper. "There's nothing like a radio when the batteries are dying/ there's nothing like running away from someone/ Just from fear of trying." ("Grief Has Feathers"). 

My personal highpoint comes in the down tempo swell of "Screensaver" where the reverb-heavy three-chord riff never gets tired and all four band members join together on the chorus line, "I'll be yours/ I'll be yours/ I'll be your/ screensaver." It might be the year's best metaphorical take on devotion and some of the most blissful moments to come down the pike since Galaxie 500's second album. Album closer "Reckless" also offers a tutorial on how to play two chords for six minutes and keep it compelling through subtle changes in harmony and dynamics.

Oyster Cuts bowled me over so hard on the first listen that I looked up the band's contact info and sent them a gushing email that night. They were nice enough to reply soon too. Turns out I missed an earlier trip to Pittsburgh and considered driving out to eastern Pennsylvania to catch their fall tour. It didn't happen, but hopefully they'll come back this way again before too long. In the meantime, everyone should get this album. 

Here is a video the band made for the album's title track.

Wendy Eisenberg

Viewfinder

(American Dreams)

A disclaimer is probably not necessary  - because it's been explained several times in this space - but Wendy Eisenberg played guitar and banjo on a few tracks on the album by my band, the Harry Von Zells. Bias? One might say that. But Eisenberg's discography offers plenty of explanation.

The guitarist could be considered something of a musical polymath. Their discography includes solo free improvisation guitar (Its Shape Is In Your Touch), compositions played on both guitar and banjo (Bloodletting), several albums of singer-songwriter ideas crossed with a prog-like scope that never goes where it's expected (Auto, just to name one) and two albums with the punk-metal-jazz trio Editrix. Honorable mention should also be made of Eisenberg's cover of Judee Sill's "The Kiss," also released as a single earlier this year.

The beauty of Viewfinder comes from the way that Eisenberg virtually brings all of these influences together in a song cycle that chronicles the experience of getting Lasik surgery on their eyes. After years of enduring virtually every complication from bad eyesight, the procedure literally gave them a new perspective on life and everything around them. 

In lesser hands, this could be a flimsy or heavy-handed concept full of clunky metaphors. But Eisenberg doesn't brings some heft in the blend of the music and the subject matter. "Lasik" opens the album with guitar urgently pedaling a single note while the lyrics candidly discuss getting the procedure, answered by pensive trombone lines. When that tension finally breaks, they strum tense chords, with piano splashing in the background before returning to that single note. 

Four songs in, "Afterimage" presents 22 minutes of improvisation which moves from loosely-structured and calm to free. It could be considered a break from the program but in other ways, the mood fits appropriately. Again, Eisenberg's guitar starts off in the distance, giving trumpeter Chris Williams and trombonist Zekereyya el-Magharbel much of the blowing space, before things open up. It's only on the penultimate track, "Viewfinder," that the guitar locks into a dirty skronk of a riff that feels like a signature Eisenberg sound (one that would be at home with Editrix, for instance). In between, they deliver a compelling blend of strings and vocals that present different nuances with each listen.  

If Viewfinder weren't enough, Eisenberg released two other albums this year - Accept When (Astral Spirits), a collaboration with saxophonist Caroline Davis, and If a Body Meet a Body, a trio album as part of Squanderers with David Grubbs and Kramer. 

 Here is a video of "Lasik" 

CD Review - Jeff Lederer - Guilty!!!

Jeff Lederer

Guilty!!!

(Little [i] Music) www.littleimusic.com

I hope Jeff Lederer is okay. He released this politically-charged, this-might-cost-me-some-fans-but-if-they-can-t-handle-it-screw-them album on October 7 (my birthday), commenting on the absurdity of the political climate, not limited the presidential race that was running whole hog at the time. Then a month later, the stupidity of the country reared its ugly head, assuring us the village might be burned in order to save it. What did Lederer think? And now, is he worried that The Man might come after him and this album?

The saxophonist is no stranger to wild concepts. In the past, Lederer has combined Albert Ayler compositions with sea shanties, to a rollicking effect. He also paired up songs from Ayler's infamous New Grass album with Shaker hymns on Heart Love (2018). Last year's Schoenberg On the Beach dug into the music of Arnold Schoenberg. Considering the year that 2024 was turning into, a set of politically-charged jazz tunes isn't out of the question.

Guilty!!! overflows with bold moves. They begin with the cover, an homage to Jackie McLean's 1965 Blue Note album It's Time! which had ten rows of exclamation points following the title. This one has the titular word written 34 times, one for each felony conviction that the current President-elect was handed earlier this year. That number continues in the title track, a composition co-written with trombonist Curtis Hasselbring, who transformed a recording of Adam Schiff reading the word 34 times, turning it into a melody. Unsettling and unnerving at first blush, once the ear knows what to expect, the focus shifts to the melodic introduction of the song and the groovy brass and sax horn tune that follows. The group can't resist repeating the 34 words again at the end, but they deliver it more like a Minor Threat lyric.

Samples of different members of Congress appear throughout the album, creating scenes that might be closer to Kramer's samples on early Bongwater albums than any jazz album. "Buttigieg vs. Sanders" includes both of those men, the tune reflecting on a time when both came close to getting a nomination a few elections ago. "Cheapening the Process" spears George Santos, "Deportation Operation" was inspired by a speech from our new leader and "We The People" draws from Senator Katie Britt's whispery, misleading rebuttal to President Biden's State of the Union. Though the voices play a big part of each track, they don't overshadow the music, which takes the idea of an acoustic brass (and reed) band to places where it rarely ventures. Stewart and Wilson create some steady foundations that give the horns a chance to go wild.

Along with the original musical commentary, Lederer also brings in a few non-originals with related issues. John Carter's "And She Speaks" touches on violence against Black woman, with some free vocals from Mary LaRose which feel a bit unsettling. Charles Mingus's "Fables of Faubus" updates the names of those who were speared in the lyrics, though LaRose, drummer Matt Wilson and the band come off a tad closer to a Wait Wait Don't Tell Me panel than a group of pissed off jazz musicians. (In other words, it's a little too lighthearted.) But the blowing can't be beat. 

The general tone of Guilty!!! places in league with other albums born during times of civil unrest. If it might not be quite as heavy as Max Roach's We Insist! Freedom Now Suite, the closing interpretation of Ayler's "Truth is Marching In," evokes another bold statement - Charlie Haden's Liberation Music Orchestra. That album closed with a one-chorus version of "We Shall Overcome," following a musical recreation of the chaotic Democratic Convention of 1968. The message was clear - at least to these ears: We're beaten down but we're not giving up. We shall overcome in the end. 

With "Truth Is Marching in" Lederer is delivering a similar message. Despite the bullshit out there, the truth will get us through, as long as we're willing to let it march in. Lederer and Knuffke intone the opening melody with Stewart and Hasselbring poking at it, and then Wilson leads the procession. 

Maybe this overstates the idea, but maybe the times call for it. 

Who knows, maybe Lederer could be our next president. I mean, if we learned anything this past November, it's that anyone can be president. 

CD Review: Peter Lenz - Breathe: Music for Large Ensembles

 

Peter Lenz 

Breathe: Music for Large Ensembles

(gamsbART) peterlenzmusic.bandcamp.com/album/breathe-music-for-large-ensembles

With 21 musicians under his direction, Peter Lenz exploits their sonic potential in the opening seconds of "Between Lines," the first track on Breathe. A broken chord begins in the upper range with trumpets and saxophones, spilling down slowly over a couple octaves to the trombones. Then drummer Jim Black goes into a joust with the ensemble, going wild over the stop-start horns that could accompany an onscreen slugfest (albeit one out of an episode of Batman perhaps), before everyone arrives at the song's theme. 

And that all takes place in the first 21 seconds. 

Lenz, known initially as a drummer who has lead the band Lithium, reveals a great amount of depth in writing for the orchestra (two tracks), chamber ensemble (one track) and big band (two). He makes sure that each section gets used appropriately, bringing distinct color to the composition and the nuances of his writing. The ensemble create a sound that feels both lush and aggressive as "Between Lines" builds to a climax where Keisuke Matsuno's guitar erupts in skronk, again driven by Black. 

The other orchestra piece, "Von Inneren Grenzen" ("of internal boundaries") is inspired by a 2015 refugee crisis in Europe and a Bertold Brecht poem. Lenz wrote original lyrics, sung by Efrat Alony in a manner that works more like another instrument, complementing the chords that the orchestra stacks up before Jacob Garchik (trombone) solos, with more guitar scrapes lurking beneath the surface.  

Of the two big band pieces, "Eleanor" borrows from the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" but skillfully avoids the pitfalls of most attempts at dressing up the Beatles in jazz clothes. Traces of the original melody surface early on, and might be missed. But when the song's original chorus comes out at the end, Lenz lets the natural pathos of the melody (and perhaps the memory of the lyrical storyline) carry it. 

The 15-minute title track could arguably be considered the album's centerpiece. A chamber ensemble of four strings, two reeds, trombone, bass and drums play the four-part work that combines Chris Speed's penetrating clarinet tone, ostinatos, bent notes that play up frequency vibrations, along with more tender moments. 

Breathe became a bit of a collaborative project with Lenz's wife Violeta Puerta Cana, who created illustrations for each composition, all included in the package. The album was recorded after Lenz had been diagnosed with cancer. Despite minimal rehearsal and a rush to get everything getting completed within a series of days, the players don't cut any corners. Here's hoping that Lenz will rebound, as he sounds like he's just getting warmed up with this type of work.

CD Review: Darius Jones - Legend of e'Boi (The Hypervigilant Eye)

Darius Jones

Legend of e'Boi (The Hypervigilant Eye)

(AUM Fidelity) dariusjones.bandcamp.com/album/legend-of-eboi-the-hypervigilant-eye

Legend of e'Boi (The Hypervigilant Eye) represents the seventh chapter in alto saxophonist Darius Jones's Man'ish Boy epic, which began with an album of that name in 2009. (The series will include two more chapters/albums.) The music is inspired by and deals with Black mental health and healing from personal trauma. The booklet with the disc features short essays and poems that deal with the issue. Jones also highlights two organizations dealing with mental health services for musicians and trauma-informed care for queer communities of color: Backline and NYC Affirmative Psychotherapy, respectively. 

While the more intense versions of free jazz (Pharoah Sanders, Albert Ayler) often scare listeners away due to the high intensity levels of the playing, it has always hit my ears as something transcendent, or, if not that, a music that attempts to mow down all forms of adversity in the way in order to help musicians and listeners reach that level of peace that comes after. Legend of e'Boi feels like that type of an album. "No More My Lord," based on a recording Alan Lomax made of singing prison workers, has that kind of feeling. Bassist Chris Lightcap creates a heavy, almost overdriven drone with the bow, allowing Jones to take a spiritual melody and use it as a gateway to some unhinged blowing. Even as he starts a fire, he creates something that feels beautiful.

"Affirmation Needed" climaxes with some altissimo squeals and upper register filigrees, but long before Jones gets to that, the body of his solo unleashes a rapid line of notes that he tongues most of the time, rather than slurring them together. The approach gives it a tough edge and drummer Gerald Cleaver, the third member of the group, seems to spur the saxophonist, motivating him to come to a boil and hold some lines with serious vibrato.

Jones proves himself equally as capable with a ballad as with the wilder moments. "We Inside Now" (a companion piece to the shape-shifting "We Outside") is stark and slow with Cleaver and Lightcap keeping the accompaniment to a bare minimum of quarter notes, while the saxophone lines also move slowly, in a combination of grace and an undercurrent of melancholy. 

It might come as a surprise that the closing track, titled "Motherfuckin [sic] Roosevelt" does not close the album out with some more free blowing. Named for the uncle that gave Jones his first saxophone, the track begins with some beefy lines from the leader, moving into a bass solo full of heavy plucking by Lightcap.

The history of jazz has been informed by a wealth of social issues that have affected artists personally, to an extent that the music serves as a strong document of that aspect of this country's history. When it comes the mental health and wellness, as well as the topic of sexuality, those ideas often get overlooked or swept under the jazz carpet. Legend of e'Boi takes a subtle approach to this subject matter but that results in a strong set that is hard to ignore. Jones's work just keeps getting stronger with each release.

Note: "We Outside" and "Motherfuckin Roosevelt" do not appear on the vinyl edition but the package includes a download card with all six tracks.

CD/LP Review: Ingebrigt Håker Flaten (Exit) Knarr - Breezy

Ingebrigt Håker Flaten (Exit) Knarr

Breezy

(Sonic Transmissions) ingebrigtflaten.bandcamp.com/album/breezy

Bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten has declared, "Free the jazz," a turn of phrase so appropriate, it's surprising no one else has used it yet. The members of Flaten's (Exit) Knarr group have taken his rallying cry seriously. In the track "Free The Jazz" the bassist anchors a choppy groove while alto saxophonist Mette Rasmussen erupts in a series of joyful honks and wails. The other members of the sextet hold down the fort while tenor saxophonist Karl Hjalmar Nyberg answers Rasmussen's call with a steady low note. Rasmussen's pitch goes higher and higher as if to test the limits of her alto's range. Her sense of discovery feels infectious.

Like a good deal of Breezy, the music combines free moments without completely forsaking a steady background, stirring up the excitement in the process. Flaten and guitarist  Jonathan F. Horne play a staccato vamp throughout "Dylar," giving the rest of the band the leeway to take off.  Horne gets manic in "Ability" as the horns (which include trumpeter Erik Kimestad Pedersen) play a five-note line behind them and Nyberg eventually begins to joust with the guitarist.

On the other end, "Hilma" begins with tranquil synth wooshes (courtesy of guest Joakim Rainer Petersen). Trumpet calls float down the hillside, answered in a canon by the saxophones. When everything seems to be heading in a Eno-esque direction, the group shifts into a jagged line in which everyone moves together. 

Flaten gives himself one moment to solo in the opening of "Breezy," a piece dedicated to the late trumpeter jaimie branch. Because of its subject matter, Pedersen's trumpet becomes the most prominent voice as the piece continues with a blue theme, almost reminiscent of a Mingus line. With everyone joining in (including Petersen) things skillfully avoid getting busy before they fade naturally into alto wails and synth noise.

Born in Norway, Ingebrigt Håker Flaten has recorded extensively in a variety of projects - appearing on 200 albums, including the bands Atomic and the Thing, as well as many Ken Vandermark bands. (Exit) Knarr came together initially as a one-off commission for the 2021 Vossa Jazz Festival, releasing an album under the bassist's name which now serves as the group's moniker.  With his rep as a prolific sideman set, it's high time to catch up on his skills as a leader and composer.

Pitt Jazz Concert Report

What a week, eh? There is a lot to unpack from the turn of events that occurred on Tuesday and I'm not about to dig into here. I have my opinions on it and felt like slugging at least one person this week ("felt" is different than actually doing it, remember) and don't want to get into a debate about it. Wherever you are and whoever you are, I hope you're doing okay, all things considered. 

I sat down at the laptop this morning, thinking about an album that I wanted to write about, only to remember I never offered a dispatch on last week's Pitt Jazz Concert. So despite that fact that it happened a week ago, it felt like a quickie was in order. 

Chad Taylor, the new head of Jazz Studies at Pitt, understands that Pittsburgh likes its hard bop and isn't too certain about new things, so he programmed an evening that combined the best of both worlds, never playing it too safe or taking it too out. While the more adventurous moments provided the highlights and gave the ensemble the chance to really click, the standards portion also provided a pretty good time.

The evening honored local jazz godfather and drummer Roger Humphries and Philadelphia-born, internationally known bassist Reggie Workman. Along with those musicians, the ensemble included Taylor  (who alternated drum duties with Humphries), Pitt's Dr. Aaron J. Johnson (trombone, conch shells), Sumi Tonooka (piano), Jeff Parker (guitar), Brian Settles (tenor saxophone), Ingrid Jensen (trumpet), Immanuel Wilkins (alto saxophone) and Jessica Boykin Settles (vocals). My far away picture up above features Settles, Parker, Jensen, Workman and Wilkins.

Pitt's Bellefield Hall has a spacious auditorium with nearly 700 seats. Not quite the fancy space of the Jazz Concert's old home down the street, the Carnegie Music Hall, it also doesn't quite have the sound system to accommodate a group like this. The horns and Parker's guitar cut through, but the rhythm section sounded as if they were quite jelling at all times, which seemed less a symptom of the performance and more of the room.

Workman's compositions factored heavily into the two sets and they provided moments when the group really clicked. "Shades of Angola," which started set number two, caught the band in full gear. Taylor kicked it off with an unaccompanied solo, followed by Workman bowing beneath the bridge before kicking into a boppish vamp. Parker's bright tone and Tonooka's two-handed chords kept things exciting. 

His "Conversations" was a highlight in the first set, with Johnson blowing conch shells and Jensen delivering a sprite tone that evoked Out To Lunch-era Freddie Hubbard to these ears. 

With Humphries behind the drum kit and Jessica Boykin Settles on the mic, the first set included a version of Bobby Timmons' "Moanin'," with the lyrics Jon Hendricks penned for his version with Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. She paid tribute to vocalist Shirley Horn with "Here's to Life" but the ballad seemed like it could have been a chorus or two shorter. In the second set, she returned to the stage for a bold version of "Strange Fruit." "What a Little Moonlight Can Do," gave Parker and Wilkins (whose sense of invention was on display all night every time he soloed) some good space and might have been better with the sugary audience participation portion.

"Blues March" might be one of those songs that has become an easy blowing vehicle at jam sessions, but with Humphries leading the march, it served as a fitting way to close the evening, as well as a way to honor Benny Golson, who composed it and recently passed away.

In closing, there is the subject of etiquette. From my perch in the balcony, I didn't notice anyone leaving mid-performance, but friends sitting below said that some of the older patrons didn't have the patience to wait until intermission or the end of the night to leave. While I understand that, after 54 years, some people might expect to hear nothing more adventurous than "Killer Joe" and "Blue Bossa," it would be nice if people opened their minds a little to explore new ideas. After all, the music wasn't foisting Cecil Taylor-style attacks on them.

Closer to my seats, the couple in front of me seemed to be having a deep conversation throughout the evening. That is, they were when they weren't whipping out their devices and watching Pitt get clobbered in a football game. Once again, your reporter's pal on the floor also saw the same lack of social graces going on there. What's next - yelling during "Strange Fruit" if the team makes an interception? I know it was a rough game, but just because technology allows you to explore two Pitt events at once, it doesn't mean you should.

We've all seen or heard stories about the chatty person in the back of the jazz club during the set. DON'T BECOME THAT PERSON. (Please repeat the message to your friends.) 

Jeff Parker - Master Guitarist

Photo by Jeff Newberry

 

The last time I met up with Jeff Parker was 2017, when he came to town with Tortoise, the long-standing Chicago group that had the corner on the term "post-rock," due to their vast, swirling sound. After their soundcheck, Parker and I settled into the group's tour bus for a Before & After listening test and talk for JazzTimes magazine. 

Towards the end of meeting, he casually described himself as a "frustrated bebop guitar," which at the time seemed like a modest, somewhat self-deprecating comment that hinted that some deeper style lurked underneath his own work. The former quality comes to mind because Parker has chops to spare, straddling a strong melodic sense with a knack for effects that expand his sound. But a listen to his work with the New Breed (New Breed, Suite for Max Brown) travels to places far beyond the realm of bebop.

One interesting quality to both albums is the way Parker combines elements that shift around the beat but still work. In addition to jazz and modern rock, he also has an affinity for beat making and loops, as a fan of artists like the late J Dilla. The beat that opens "Executive Life" on The New Breed has a hiccup to it but it still keeps the flow going. "Build a Nest," which kicks of Max Brown, has vocals from his daughter Ruby, also feels a little off-center but in a way that adds to the music. 

Along with those album, the prolific guitarist also released For Folks in 2021, a solo recital that includes lyrical versions of the standard "My Ideal" and Thelonious Monk's deep cut waltz "Ugly Beauty" along with original works. The double LP Mondays at the Enfield Tennis Academy (Eremite, 2022) consists of four side long improvisations in a quartet with drummer Jay Bellerose, bassist Anna Butterss and saxophonist Josh Johnson. Sometimes spare, sometimes repetitive thanks to loops, the mood often creates a trance. 

In thinking about all of these releases and the variety between them, it becomes clear that Parker ought to bring an exciting element to Saturday's Pitt Jazz Concert, which is helmed by his longtime friend drummer Chad Taylor at the University of Pittsburgh (click here to read my talk with Taylor).

Parker and I caught up last week by phone. Still a resident of Los Angeles, he was working in New Orleans at the time.

What's happening in New Orleans?

There was a Tortoise show a couple days ago. I also had a trio gig with bassist James Singleton and Quin Kirchner, the drummer from Chicago. Then I'm playing a duo gig tonight. Kind of a duo show, with a singer named Gabrielle Cavassa. Joshua Redman is going to play a few tunes with us too.

Kind of all over the place!

The way I like it.

The last time you and I talked, about five years ago, when you were here with Tortoise. One of the things you said at the end was you described yourself as a "frustrated bebop guitar player." It's funny because I was listening to Suite for Max Brown and didn't get a sense of that. But I'm just wondering, with albums like that and all that you do, is there a string connecting it to bebop?

Yeah, of course. I mean, I find that whole era of music inspiring. The ideas that those guys were dealing with were so advanced. It was progressive. That's the thing that I really get from it. Not just tangibly what's happening in the music, but what's behind it, in terms of dealing with ideas. And they're advanced. And moving the music forward. I call myself a frustrated bebop player because that music is difficult to play. Well you know, man, what's the point of me presenting myself as an artist, as someone who is in this revisionist role? I'm trying to make my own music. I mean, I'm not like a bebop guitar player. I'm a musician. I'm a composer. I think compositionally. If you analyze some of my music, you can definitely hear that in the harmony and maybe in some of the counterpoint stuff. But I'm not trying to play music that somebody was making 80, 90 years ago at this point.

It's interesting when you think about that music too because back when Charlie Parker or Fats Navarro were playing, it was a risk to play that. But they were playing what they feel. Listening again to the Suite for Max Brown, how much of that was creating in the studio vs. live playing?

Most of it. Almost all of it. Part of it was by the time and also out of necessity. Because just scheduling couldn't work out. So I would have musicians come by my place here and there, and they recorded what they can. The way I even deal with the New Breed music, that's what it is: me, stitching together musical ideas to make it into a tapestry. Conceptually, that's what it is. It's me dealing with samples and beats. My interest is in production, using the studio to make this kind of work that's based more in sonics and how it captures and exploits that space. 

When you're putting stuff together do you have a pretty good idea of what you want, going in, or do you give yourself a clean slate and see where it goes?

Definitely the latter. It's very experimental. A lot of times I might just have an idea that's more of a blueprint and the music might come out of something I want to experiment with, in a general sense. Then the music comes out of that, as opposed to the other way around. 

That can keep it exciting too. It's a discovery for the listener, but you get to be the listener as it takes shape too. How much of a chance do you get to play that stuff live? When the albums came out, did you get to perform those tracks?

Yeah. We toured. That album came out right before lockdown. Luckily we were able to get in about a week or 10 days worth of touring. And when we were touring, the country was closing up behind us. That tour was the last thing a lot of people saw before we were locked down for a year and a half.

We played it some, and still do. The New Breed band played at the Chicago Jazz Festival in late August. And we've been doing sporadic things. We played the Wexler Center in Columbus. We played a show at the University of Iowa.

When we play it live, it's different. That's one of the things I deal with. I'll have us improvising to music that I've recorded, that's on a grid. The improvising makes it sound more organic. When we perform it live, rather than play to a grid, I'll have whoever is in the drum chair triggering drum samples, so they can improvise with the samples material. Whereas in the studio, it's opposite way.

That's what I was wondering: how do you approach it live - recreating it vs. expanding on it.

At the end of the day. it is improvised music. It's an improvised process. that's what I'm doing. You know, most composition - I probably speak for most musicians in all kinds of music - comes from improvising. Wherever musical ideas come from. The composer sits down at their chosen instrument and they start to experiment with ideas until they come up with something that's tangible enough to work its way into being documented. New Breed records are for sure, that's what's behind them. When we play it live, I try to keep that spirit - that, as musicians, we can express ourselves within this constructed framework. 

Another thing I just listened to was the Monday Nights at the Enfield Tennis Academy. How does that group compare to the New Breed?

It's pretty different. But similar, you know? Because I had a residency with that group on most Mondays for a few years, until people got crazy busy. Now we hardly play at all. But for a while we started out just playing standards. Then we settled into this way of improvising. After we'd been playing almost every week for a few years, the improvising was very deliberate. It involved us introducing new ideas and sticking with them. Over a long period of time, these improvisations would develop. 

I was just talking to someone about this yesterday. It's not random. We're improvising but it's very deliberate in what we're doing. I can tie it directly with my other work. It's based in stagnant movement like looped drums and stagnant activity. Then, kind of using that concept to improvise with. And it's deliberate. It took us [time in] developing this musical relationship. We never talk about it. But it's an area that everyone in the band was interested in exploring.  

You mean, the loops are steady and you use that as a foundation to improvise off of that?

Yeah. Off of the idea. It doesn't have to be like that. We don't talk about it. But you can tell by what everybody is, how we're communicating with one another, that's the thing that everyone is thinking about. 

A couple things stuck out to me. It shows that you don't have to play a lot to be effective. Sometimes the bass and the drums might be kind of spare but it works. It's what the situation calls for. 

Yeah. Exactly.

The other thing is, with the loops going, it creates kind of a trance that carries it too. Personally, sometimes the loops can be a bit too much, but after awhile when you get used to  them, you realize it's not about what you think. Just let it take you somewhere.

That's what it's like to make beats. That's where a lot of the concept came from. I don't know if you heard the first New Breed album. That one came more directly out of my making beats - me being inspired by [J] Dilla and DJ Premiere, Pete Rock and my heroes [like] Mad Lib. My heroes in hip hop, producers and experimenting in that medium. And adding that to whatever musical ideas I was having. 

When you're making beats - dealing with samples and then the production mode - you just listen to a loop. Man, you can listen to it for hours. You're tweaking it and making little changes. You get into this zone. It's very solitary and it's very much about the way music sounds. You get into this repetition thing. It's a unique way to compose music. A lot of the New Breed music, and you know, the way we do the improvising with the ETA quartet ... and my solo guitar stuff. It's all very much based in, I don't know. trying to invite people into my world. And have them feel what that feels like. Get into the space of this music, which puts you in this meditative space. 

Any thing you wanted to talk about? New releases?

I have a new album coming out on International Anthem/Nonesuch of the ETA quartet. They just announced it. The release date is November 22. It's called The Way Out of Easy. It's that ETA quartet, another live recording. I think it was January 2, 2023. It's a double album, four long tunes. There's one composition that I wrote, the rest are improvisations. 

In addition to the concert on Saturday, Nov. 2 at Bellefield Hall, the afternoon will feature three free seminars. 1 p.m. - trumpeter Ingrid Jensen; 2 pm. - bassist Reggie Workman; 3 p.m. - Chad Taylor. These seminars take place in the Frick Fine Arts Building, 650 Schenley Drive.
At 3 p.m. tenor saxophonist Brian Settles and vocalist Jessica Boykin-Settles will be at the Afro-American Music Institute, 7131 Hamilton Ave., Homewood.

The concert takes place at 8 p.m. $20.