Not that anyone seems to notice (I've checked the number of hits I get on each post) but I want to get back into the habit of posting more often. I really fell off the wagon last month in part because I was getting ready for a Record Fest and had a lot of stuff to prep for it. There was also some time that I was sidelined with a summer cold, which really zapped my focus. After writing the assigned stuff (album reviews) that I had during the month too, I just couldn't psyche myself up to do any posts. There was plenty I could've have written about but the question of where to start just overwhelmed me, made me feel completely unprepared and just sort of bummed me out. Then I sought refuge in albums that I've listened to a million times. Or worse, I'd spend time poking around on social media. I got really hooked on what I call "jazz porn": the search for original pressings of classic albums, posts from people who have them, what differentiates one pressing from another, how much they're worth and if a copy can't be found for sale.
All of that kind of leads into this post, which I decided did NOT need to be a full blown review of a new release, complete with critical insight and description. It's a more personal piece about one person's quest, along with a few random thoughts on two other current releases.
Sometime ago, I got it in my head that I really wanted a copy of alto saxophonist Marion Brown's Three For Shepp. Not just any copy, like the reissue on Superior Viaduct that is fairly easy to come by (at least in my sphere). I wanted an original orange label copy on Impulse! Records. Yes, it's one of those first world quests of people my age. But - with all due respect to the people at Superior Viaduct, who I'm sure do a great job - there's something about reissues that make me suspicious. Blame it on way off-center pressings on Actuel albums (I had to return one, it was so bad) and Blue Notes (I still have it them but they make me grumble). The act of picking up a first pressing also makes me feel a connection with the person who bought it when it first came out, creating wonder in my head about how this music affected them.
The problem is Three For Shepp (which does include three compositions penned by Archie Shepp and three by the leader - a tip of the hat to Shepp's own Four for Trane album) doesn't come easy. Or cheap. A copy sitting on Discogs is going for the bottom end of three figures. A copy on eBay was a little less, but the seller lives in Japan, which means the postage is through the roof.
Last weekend, someone I follow on Instagram posted about the album and, responding to a comment I made, mentioned that Reckless Records in Chicago had an OG pressing for $75. I jumped at the prospect, contacted an old friend who worked for the store, inquiring how to see if it's still there for sale.
It was, but it wasn't OG. The copy was an Impulse/ABC pressing which came a few years later. But I was fixated on this album, talking to friends about it enough that they were probably going to smack me if I didn't shut up about it. "Near mint" too? Why not.
The package arrived on Saturday. I had to sweat it out through a busy work shift and a few post-work errands before I could get home and open it. But, man, it was beautiful. Like the first press, it still has the trademark Impulse! laminated cover. The pinhole (why do so many Impulse! albums have them?) is noticeable in the photo above, but I can live with that. And the music itself - awesome. I forgot that trombonist Grachan Moncur III is the second horn on it, which makes it even better. I played the record last night and then first thing this morning as I made coffee.
One album I had been meaning to write about over the past couple months is the self-titled debut from Ocelot, the trio of Yuma Uesaka (tenor, clarinets), Cat Toren (piano, nord) and Colin Hinton (drums, percussion). Toren's late 2020 release with her Human Kind group, Scintillating Beauty, was a strong, unique session that gave this trio's album on 577 some strong anticipation.
All three musicians write for the group, creating music where open space has as much value as the moments that are filled with sound. To that end, they recall the trio Paradoxical Frog, in both instrumentation and sound, more specifically the works of that group's composer/drummer Tyshawn Sorey.
The problem with Ocelot is the long, drawn out reed tones and piano clusters take a long time to land after circling the air. Specifically, three of Hinton's compositions last between eight and 10 minutes and spend three-quarters of that time slowly moving towards a cohesive theme, and the sparsity doesn't always justify the wait. Uesaka stirs up some fire in his "Iterations I," aided by Hinton, while Toren thunders underneath him. His other contribution "Post" is built on a tense trill, played by all three members. The length of time that Uesaka blows without breathing is impressive, but beyond that it's pretty grating.
Toren's two offerings have some of the album's strongest moments. "Crocus," which closes the set, begins like a straightforward piano ballad (in the beset way possible) rising up and getting a bit spiritual even as Hinton maintains a relatively steady 4/4 beat. "Anemone" combines free tempo and dynamics (along with mid-song horn changes, something Uesaka does throughout the album) with good results.
In live performance the sparse quality of the music could fill a room with suspense. But on album, at least this time, it leaves a little more to be desired. Go 577Records.com or 577records.bandcamp.com/album/ocelot to check it out.
Usually when I'm going to review an album, I listen to it several times, making sure I have an idea of what's happening on it. Tenor saxophonist Maria Grand's album Reciprocity (Biophilia) has been out for a while and I finally gave it a spin last week. After just one listen, it was clear I needed to write something about it soon because it's a powerful album. With bassist Kanoa Mendenhall and drummer Savannah Harris accompanying her, Grand turns in a set of original works that groove and push the rhythmic envelope as well.
Reciprocity was recorded while Grand was pregnant with her son and that fact overshadows the album in a way, like the whole thing could be considered a conversation between the two of them. In her liner notes, Grand talks about playing shows while pregnant, saying that baby Anyí danced in utero during the performances. Several tracks have vocals from all three members of the group, the most impressive being the arresting harmonies on "Now, Take, Your, Day," which recalls the Haden Triplets in its rich blend of voices. As a soloist and composer, Grand reminds of JD Allen's approach to the trio setting, getting a wide swath of ideas out of what could be a limited harmonic setting. Look for this one on the End of the Year lists, or raise cain if you don't.
PS the photo above is just one side of the origami-style fold-out cover that has become Biophilia Records' environmentally-conscious trademark look. Visit Grand's Bandcamp page or the Biophilia page for more info.
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