Show Preview: Adam Meckler Quintet.

This space doesn't normally serve as a preview forum for upcoming Pittsburgh shows. Mainly because I don't have it together to stay on top of previews beyond what I write for the local print media. But within a week of hearing about Adam Meckler's show at the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern, his CD arrived in a package with a few others by Minneapolis players, so I put it on before I could think twice. Makes me wonder if the Twin Cities area is similar to Pittsburgh, with maturing talent that's not caught by the national radar.

Meckler's trumpet playing is impressive in his wide range on the horn. He easily shifts into the upper register, displaying a brawny tone when he does, sounding clear but with a roughness that adds character to his voice. And speaking of voice, Wander, his second album with his quintet, contains some strong writing, with intriguing melodic lines, rhythm twists and vamps that make an engaging tug at the ear.

Concurrent with his quintet, Meckler also leads an orchestra that received attention for the 2014 release When the Clouds Look Like This, which was inspired by the work of Maria Schneider and Darcy James Argue. The quintet get a large sound out of Meckler's trumpet and flugelhorn, along with Zacc Harris (guitar), Graydon Peterson (bass), Greg Schutte (drums) and Joe Mayo (on one track) and Nelson Devereaux (on the rest) (tenor sax/soprano).

The title track tricks the listener a couple times, beginning with a rubato melody vaguely reminiscent of Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman" before going into a brighter, in-tempo theme. But during the solos the rhythm section tautly holds down a vamp that seems to be in 7/4 with a bar of 5/4 thrown in occasionally. Mayo and Meckler handle it with ease.

The disc comes from three different live performances, which include several pieces where they really stretch out. "The Call" has a staccato melody that resurfaces between solos as Devereaux, Meckler and Harris explore ideas and take things out for 14 solid minutes. "Atomium Jules" adds some skronk and power chords to fray, along with a theme that tips its hat to the Twin Cities' punk forefathers like Husker Du et al. (Well, maybe that's a stretch but these cats can hold their own with the rock.) "Drew's Beard" begins with a folkloric melody, which jumps into a major-minor two-chord groove that makes a great hook.

Opening will be tenor saxophonist John Petrucelli (in a trio), who is one of the city's most promising tenor players.

It all happens on Friday, April 29, starting at 9 p.m. $10. Bloomfield Bridge Tavern, 4412 Liberty Avenue. The BBT is a great, intimate venue which hasn't had edgey jazz like this in ages. Come check it out.

For more info on the artist, go to www.adammeckler.com

CD Review: Henry Threadgill Ensemble Double Up - Old Locks and Irregular Verbs

Henry Threadgill Ensemble Double Up
Old Locks and Irregular Verbs
(Pi) www.pirecordings.com

Last week it was announced that multi-reedist/composer Henry Threadgill won the Pulitzer Prize for the "distinguished musical composition by an American" found on his 2015 album In for a Penny, In for a Pound. Congratulations to Mr. Threadgill, his bandmates in Zooid and to Seth Rosner and Yulan Wang of Pi Recordings, who launched their label to support the composer, and consistently release thought-provoking albums that I wish I had more time to expound upon.

However, right as the Pulitzer announcement was made, Threadgill released a brand new disc with a new ensemble. Double Up features both Jason Moran and David Virelles on piano, Roman Filiu and Curtis MacDonald on alto saxophones, Craig Weinrib on drums and Zooid members Christopher Hoffman on cello and Jose Davila on tuba. Threadgill serves as conductor, and doesn't play any instruments.

The 46-minute suite Old Locks and Irregular Verbs was premiered at the 2014 Winter JazzFest, and I attended the first of two performances at Judson Hall. Dedicated to the late Lawrence D. Butch Morris - who created the concept of "conduction," which combined improvisation and conducting - the piece had a loose abstract quality to it. But even when groups of musicians broke away into what seemed like free improvisation, they played with great deal of direction, never letting their focus wander. When Threadgill took center stage towards the end, directing them in a series of rising, roaring chords, it was an intense experience.

Recorded in a studio over a year later, this disc recreates all the excitement of the initial performance and perhaps more, since it offers the chance to revisit the music repeatedly and discover its contours. According to the press release, most of the music was written out, which can explain why the unusual instrumentation works so well. Moran and Virelles play off of each other, and when they frequently work together, things never get too busy. Both seem pretty evenly panned in the speakers, as do the saxophonists, but "soloists" aren't indicated anywhere, putting the focus back on the piece itself. The saxophones spew sharp, idiosyncratic melodies which are probably worthy of Threadgill himself. Only during "Part Three" does one of them get overly aggressive, spilling out fast lines. Drummer Weinrib adds some intriguing moments on his own, like in "Part Two" where he rests as much he plays a simplistic blend of taps and clicks. In the next section his solo has a rich quality, like a written-through break for the trap kit.

This all paves the way for the final movement (the disc divides "Old Locks" into four tracks though it's actually one continuous piece). Threadgill assembled this section to sound like a funeral dirge, the clearest reference to Morris' passing. But even though the horns gradually create a funereal feeling as it takes shape, the mood does not feel bleak or distraught. The subject is missed but the music evokes both a remembrance of happy bygone days and the desire to move on his honor. That's when those powerful chords crash in, bringing it to a climax. Moran has admitted that the ending always brings him to tears, and it's easy to see why. This is moving music.

If In for a Penny, In for a Pound earned Threadgill the Pulitzer, what will this album get him?

CD Review: Vijay Iyer & Wadada Leo Smith - a cosmic rhythm with each stroke

Vijay Iyer & Wadada Leo Smith
a cosmic rhythm with each stroke
(ECM) www.ecmrecords.com

Upon considering just a few aspect of Wadada Leo Smith's career - pre-AACM recordings with Anthony Braxton, the work of his Creative Orchestra for Moers Music and even his more recent works like The Great Lakes Suites - one project seemed like something of an aberration: Yo Miles, a band that pays tribute to Miles Davis' electric period. As a trumpeter who has gone to great lengths to create his own singular voice on the instrument, it seems like a surprise that he might take the time to look back.

But hearing this album offers a reminder of the connection between the two trumpeters. Davis could always exude a high level of lyricism from a select group of notes. Likewise, Smith is not a busy trumpeter. He likes his long tones, and he likes bending and squeezing them for all they're worth. When he does, they might not be quite as delicate as the Prince of Darkness, but they have a similar dramatic impact. This album presents many opportunities to get a greater understanding of Smith's sound.

Smith and pianist Vijay Iyer have a two-decade history together, which includes five years when they played together in Smith's Golden Quartet (click here for a review of an album). This album centers on its title track, a seven-part suite inspired by the late Indian artist Nasreen Mohamedi. Each section is named for a phrase taken from Mohamedi's diary ("All becomes alive," "The empty mind receives," among them). The music has a loose quality to it, spontaneous but not completely improvised. Some sections begin starkly while others begin like a free wheeling cat-and-mouse chase. Smith emits squirts or wails. Iyer begins with low rumbles on one track and upper register shimmers on another. One piece seems to begin with nearly a minute of absolute silence. Crank up the volume, though, and the sub-woofer sound of Iyer's electronics will be detected.

Therein lies the power of a cosmic rhythm with each stroke. There are moments of beauty to it, like the blend of Iyer's high end cascades and Smith's muted trumpet on "Uncut emeralds." The intervals that Smith takes on "Notes on water," one of several tracks that feature Iyer on Fender Rhodes, sound equally as beguiling in their frankness. This is headphone (or earbud, to be modern) music, where deep listening moves beyond the spare instrumentation that might be felt in a casual listen.

A piece by Iyer and one by Smith, respectively, precede and follow the suite. "Passage" opens the album with a rolling steady tempo from the pianist and long, passionate tones from his accomplice. "Marian Anderson" honors the late operatic contralto/civil rights activist with a warm salute.

These two are coming to town for the Pittsburgh JazzLive International festival and guess who can hardly wait.

Suzanne Vega Remembers

After spending 30 years writing lyrics full of rich details, it's easy to forget one once in a while. Bob Dylan did it early in his career, bemusedly asking the audience for the first line of a song.

Last night at the Carnegie Lecture Hall, Suzanne Vega froze, a few phrases into "(I'll Never Be) Your Maggie May," forgetting what came next. Having already established an intimate rapport with the audience with a little self-deprecation, I was almost expecting her to deadpan, "Line," like a thespian who needs to be prompted. Instead, she stopped, promising to revisit the song later in the set. To regain her footing, she launched into "Gypsy," a song she wrote at age 18 for a camp counselor (more on him later), which she recorded on Solitude Standing in the '80s. She needed a little help when she got to THAT third verse, but a friendly audience member fed her lines, and kept things going.

Even during the time she forgot, Vega maintained her poise, never turning it into a major deal. Unlike her previous Pittsburgh show, where guitarist Gerry Leonard joined her onstage, she was all alone with her guitar last night. She walked onstage with a top hat in hand, like last time, which could mean only one thing: she'd open with "Marlene on the Wall" again, putting on the hat to evoke the song's inspiration, Marlene Dietrich. From there, the set differed greatly from her 2013 appearance.

When I interviewed her for a City Paper article, she said fans could tweet song requests to her and she would try her best to pull them off. The solo set-up would limit what she could pull off (nothing like the more produced "Blood Makes Noise," she specifically said), and that probably explains why she dug into her first two albums for much of the set. "Small Blue Thing," "The Queen and the Soldier," and "Knight Moves" came from her debut. "Luka" and "Tom's Diner" - which might be considered obligatory at this point in her career - came from Solitude Standing, as did the still-romantic "Gypsy" and "Calypso." A couple songs from 2014's Tales of the Realm of the Queen of Pentacles came up too, as well as a couple from Songs in Red and Gray. 

The aforementioned camp counselor, whom Vega knew as a teen, also served as some inspiration to "In Liverpool" from 99.9 Fahrenheit Degrees, since he hailed from the city of Beatles. That song has another one of Vega's swelling choruses, merging hooks and words, and it runs through my head on a fairly regular basis. Hearing it in live was a personal highlight of the set.

Vega through in a few other surprises, beyond the lyric slips. She started her encore with "Calypso," but stopped mid-way, asking the audience how they'd feel about a dramatic reading of Lou Reed's "Dirty Blvd." (She'll be doing for an upcoming PBS program dedicated to New York City.) The way she introduced it seemed like she was going to play it, but she rattled off the words unaccompanied, which worked just as well considering its author did pretty much the same thing. Then she closed with "Rosemary," which appeared as a single, on the Tried and True compilation and on the fourth volume of Close-Up, her set of re-recorded songs.

The show was staged by Calliope, the long-standing local folk music organization that is about to celebrate its 40th anniversary. They're bringing guitarist Leo Kottke to town on Saturday, May 7, which should also be a big night.

(Apologies to openers the Honey Dewdrops, who I missed due to tardiness.)

CD Review: Albert Ayler - Bells/Prophecy

Albert Ayler
Bells/Prophecy
(ESP-Disk) www.espdisk.com

My favorite Albert Ayler record is Vibrations. During high school, I heard in an Ayler album in a used record shop and it got under my skin. My brother told me that if I ever wanted to appreciate and understand the wild tenor saxophonist, I should buy an album, read the liner notes and listen with an open mind. Vibrations proved to be the perfect entry way. It turned my head around and I never looked back. Ayler recorded the session in Copenhagen in 1964, adding trumpeter Don Cherry to his trio with bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Sunny Murray. The second horn was a fortuitous addition. Reissued by Arista-Freedom in 1975, my copy featured excellent liner notes by future Mosaic Records founder Michael Cuscuna. On top of all that, Vibrations was recorded in a decent studio.

The last observation is the important one in the case of this reissue. Many of Albert Ayler's most important albums were recorded under less than stellar conditions. Spirits Rejoice was recorded in New York's Judson Hall. A high-ceiling echoey former church, the setting buried the bass and made Call Cobbs' harpsichord sound like it was played in another room. New York Eye and Ear Control sounded as raw as the shambolic performance. An album of traditional spirituals also lost something due to poor sound.

Bells, originally issued on one side of clear vinyl, was recorded at Town Hall with similar results (though there's no harpsichord). The results were pretty lo-fi, though this edition cleans it up a bit. Ayler, his brother Donald (trumpet) and Charles Tyler (alto saxophone) come through loud and clear, while drummer Murray is heard somewhat and bassist Lewis Worrell cuts through during the quieter passages. Part of the appeal of the initial Bells release was likely due to the packaging, but if you're going for music, this set is a good bet. As Steve Holtje points out, this 1965 performance came at a time when Ayler was moving away from the compositions of the early trio towards a bigger sound based on vamps akin to a frenetic marching band.

ESP first released Prophecy in the 1970s, ironic since the 1964 performances at the Cellar Cafe predated the Ayler trio's debut for the label by a year. It's a valuable document, for one thing because it includes two discs of material, restored to its original order and correct song titles. Ayler classics like the oft-recorded "Ghosts" and the throaty, vibrato heavy "Wizard" (a fave on the Vibrations session) are here, unleashed on what was probably an unsuspecting public, who clap politely and at least seem positively intrigued by the performance.

If you're listening to get a good handle on Ayler's approach to the tenor, Prophecy delivers. Recorded by poet Paul Haines, it clearly reveals how much power Ayler unleashed every time he blew into his horn. His bottom-end growls are spectacular. His vibrato was wide, though light years away from the overstated piddly vibrato used by commercial swing bands.

But even though Peacock and Murray can be heard, it's hard to get a feel for the way the trio interacted. Peacock, who had been playing West Coast cool jazz just a few years earlier, plays some obtuse lines, but the recording leaves them floating amorphously, rather than interacting with Ayler. Murray avoids his massive crashing sounds in favor of more subtle work, which thanks to the record sounds like his spends more time on the cymbals.

That being said, Bells/Prophecy is still required listening for Ayler fanatics. These two have been paired together before in previous issues. (The second disc of Prophecy was previously released under the name Albert Smiles with Sunny. But with quality and availability of them always in question, this version is the ideal copy.

CD Review: Deep Sea Diver - Secrets

Deep Sea Diver
Secrets
(High Beam)

Ever get that feeling when listening to the opening riff of a song where you can't figure out exactly where the beat falls? The Cars' "Let the Good Times Roll" did it to me for decades. Between the off-beat accents from the guitar, syn-drums and the rhythm of the vocal, the two and the four escaped me until the drums kick in.

A slightly different, but equally beguiling feeling greets you at the start of "Notice Me," the opening track of Secrets. The guitar plucks out an angular melody, with several of the notes slightly muffled. It feels like an odd time signature, since the balance keeps shifting. But once Jessica Dobson starts singing and the drums gently assert the beat, the song clearly settles into 4/4. Somehow that guitar seems to have it both ways, playing off the beat but staying within it by playing triplets . It makes a brash opening to an album full of moments that feel a bit unsettling while they still come off as catchy ear candy.

Dobson has been a support player for a number of major bands, most recently the Shins, as well as Beck, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Spoon. If Secrets (DSD's sophomore album) proves anything, she needs to stay in the spotlight, not in the shadows or on the side.

Parts of the album recall St. Vincent's layered arrangements of keyboard washes and guitars that are sometimes free of effects but full of scrappy power chords. The songs have pop elements to them, which the band has developed in the studio, adding some synth sounds that tip the hat to '80s new wave. In a way they recall Merge Records' Hospitality on their Trouble album, which toyed with the indie pop template by adding all sorts of production tricks to embellish the songs. Dobson also has a unique way of phasing, like Hospitality's Amber Papini, that makes her lyrics feel a little more oblique. For example, the seemingly optimistic, piano-driven "New Day" closes the album with the lyric, "I'm alone on a new day/ 'cause you're with someone else," before ending on a Beatle-esque/jazz chord. The way she stretches the line out, it's easy to miss the whole idea without hanging on her every syllable.

One of the most inviting qualities of Secrets is the way Dobson and her crew never stay with one style for too long.  Half of "Wide Awake" is given over to six-string noise over a chugging bass groove. "Body on the Tracks" also climaxes with a single-note guitar solo. "See These Eyes" could be a riff inspired by Dobson's time in Spoon. While "Notice Me" toys with a standard rhythm, "It Takes a Moment" adds an extra beat to the riff, still rocking hard with gnarled guitar work (courtesy of the singer, by the way).

A good blend of arty noise and groovy tendencies, Secrets should not be left to the musical cognoscenti hiding in the shadows.

Keith Jarrett Flips Out

Back in the days before flash mobs, it was a prank that high school students would play on teachers, especially oblivious substitute teachers: At a pre-determined time, everyone would drop their book on the floor or cough. If the teacher was cool, they might see the humor in it. If not, well.... maybe another bit of their psyche was chipped away in the process.

A few nights ago, pianist Keith Jarrett - he who reacts harshly to distractions even if they occur before the performance has even started, as the Umbria Jazz Festival found out the hard way - was on the receiving end of a trick by a dozen or so audience members. The results were not pretty.

The solo performance at New York City's Frick Fine Arts Building began ideally. In fact patrons said they could hear a pin drop, though no one, thankfully dropped any pins for fear of disrupting the pianist's flow of ideas. Jarrett began with a re-imagining of "Stranger on the Shore" which segued into swirling improvisation that didn't touch down for nearly 20 minutes. As the music continues, Jarrett seemed to be in an inspired mood. Then it started.

According to people in attendance, a patron in the back center section of the first level, blew his nose loudly. Worse, he apologized, presumably to the people around him. In the middle of a right hand glissando, Jarrett shot a cold glare into the darkened crowd. Then a serious of coughs, that almost seemed synchronized, came from each section, first center then stage left then stage right. By the time a handful of people accidentally-on-purpose dropped their concert programs booklets, Jarrett had more than enough.

"It was like something out of some old comedy movie," said concertgoer A.P. Rilfool. "He yelled something like, 'Ahhhhhhh' and ran offstage. It was like an Abbott and Costello moment." Confusion ensued, with audience members not sure if the show was over or if it simply hit a speed bump. Most people remained in their seats, though several went to the lobby to smoke.

A group of men, most of them wearing t-shirts bearing images of jazz icons like Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis and Richard Twardzik, stood in the corner of the lobby looking sanctimonious. They wouldn't admit they were responsible for the synchronized distractions. But in a voice that resembled the gentleman on The Simpsons who runs a comic book store (with the pony-tailed look to match), one of the patrons stoically said he hoped Mr. Jarrett might have learned a lesson in audience appreciation. (He displayed a vast knowledge of Jarrett's discography, as he spoke, equally only by his naivete on their ability to change Jarrett's mind in the matter of audience noise.)

The crew at Frick kept audience members hopeful by playing a rather scratched copy of Jarrett's Koln Concert on a turntable hooked up to the p.a. After a stern warning from the m.c., who sounded like he would pummel anyone who make an unwanted noise, Jarrett did return to play one more song: "You Go To My Head."