Double 7-inch review: Zs- 33

Zs

33

(Northern Spy) www.northern-spy.com

This review sort of ties continues with the thought I had in yesterday's post about how to the format of promos can make a big difference in the way new releases are perceived. Although this particular release is a whole different can of worms.

Zs are a trio of free improvisers from Brooklyn, hellbent on creating tense performances whenever they set up. That must be the case when the label uses words like "juggernaut" and phrases like "music that challenges the physical and mental limitations of both performer and listener" to describe the band. And Northern Spy is a label for some reason I trust not to use hyperbole like that loosely. After a dozen years, if Zs hasn't opted to trade in all that free squonk for funk riffs, the description probably fits.

33 comes in the form of a double seven-inch set, packaged in a silk-screened fold-out sheath. Each side contains what sounds like a snippet of a larger improvised performance, each lasting between three and four minutes before abruptly stopping. No balls-to-the-wall noisefest, these pieces focus mainly on drummer Ian Antonio, who plays around on the toms of his kit, creating a dense thunder. On vinyl, this is the kind of sound that could overload your stylus, much like PiL's Metal Box did years ago. Listening to it on CD while driving around (yes, I received a download, which is understandable considering the limited edition status), it felt like the something might be rattling somewhere underneath the car. Turns out it was Antonio, or some post-production reverb effect on his kit.

All four tracks bear the release's title, followed by an extra character. On "33-" the toms are joined by Ben Greenberg's guitar skronk and some pensive tenor sax work from Sam Hillmer, who also has some echo/delay on his horn. The overall impact sounds like a sonic ripple effect. In "33/" Antonio could simply be testing the sound of his toms, as Greenberg plays some short, pensive two-note lines that hang in the air. Hillmer hangs back, adds some low rumbles. As random as these elements sound, a connection can be felt between them, due in part probably to the limited space of the track.

Things get a bit louder on "33~" with more rim clatter coming from Antonio, and Greenberg's tone resembling a gargling surf guitar. Hillmer recreates feedback on his horn, building to a small climax before dropping out and lettings his mates take it down in the last 30 seconds. "33\" has some phantom instruments bobbing in the mix. Hillner is blowing some un-tenor sounding noises, but it also sounds like a phantom baritone sax has wandered into the room. Initially the piece sounds like Zs are ready to kick up some dust, but things just amble along until - snip, it's over.

Having previewed these tracks together on disc, I was able to develop more of a complete feeling for the set. One piece lead into another, making it more of a four-part thing, and a touch more interesting. At the same time, hearing them on vinyl, where the fidelity is open up to different factors, might result in a completely different appreciation. And guys, if they're so short, why not master them at 45? Was that the idea?

I usually don't like asking questions in a review. Then again I usually don't like being so first-person either, but Zs can bring that out in a guy, methinks. Northern Spy - who has also just released albums by Charles Gayle and Chicago Underground Duo - has plans to release a retrospective Zs boxset, as well as solo releases by these guys. The idea sounds both intriguing and foreboding.

CD Review: Amir El Saffar Two Rivers Ensemble - Inana

Amir ElSaffar Two Rivers Ensemble

Inana

(Pi) www.pirecordings.com

As bold and intense as Amir ElSaffar's Two Rivers album (Pi, 2007) was, Inana comes across as an even more intense and beautiful work. Born on these shores to an Iraqi father and an American mother, the trumpeter spent five years studying the maqam in the Middle East and Europe. (To show how eclectic he is, this occurred after he received a degree in classical trumpet and moved to New York to play jazz with Vijay Iyer and Rudresh Mahanthappa.) The way he blends these studies with a probing style of jazz, which bears hints of AACM and Ornette Coleman, sounds astounding, especially in the way that neither influence gets watered down in the process.

In fact what makes the melodies on this album so effective comes in the way that ElSaffar and tenor/soprano saxophonist Ole Mathisen are able to create microtonal pitches used in maqam while playing Western instruments. While it might sound initially like "flat" notes to uninitiated listeners, the blend of instruments eventually helps you adjust to the sound.

All but the last of the nine tracks on the album make up "The Inana Suite," inspired by a Mesopotamian goddess of carnal love and warfare, who could stir up trouble wherever she went. While that scenario seems like it could invite some free blowing, the music is tightly written and arranged. "Dumuzi's Dream" begins with a bass drone courtesy of Carlo DeRosa that evokes Coleman's "Lonely Woman." ElSaffar and Mathisen state the undulating theme which works almost like a call and response with Tareq Abboushi (buzuq) and Zafer Tawil (oud). Afterward, the first solo comes from the leader, who doubles on santour, an Iraqi hammered dulcimer. The sound of its strings have a unique attack that evokes both banjo and tabla, as it slithers over the groove. Behind it all, Nasheeet Waits keeps the pulse flowing and throughout the album makes sure the music has a strong swing to it. Mathisen's solo here sounds much more Western, but he still comes up with a unexpected pattern of melodies, which do much more than build on the drone.

The suite progresses through the four-part "Inana's Dance" (three of which come together in one track), and move among other places into "Infinite Variety," one of the pieces that doesn't draw directly on the maqam. Build on six different counterpoint melodies, it bears an ancestoral link to the Art Ensemble of Chicago, sounding like a loping march with trumpet and soprano sliding in and out of sync with each other, always answering the other right when things seem off.

The 15-minute "Journey to the Underworld" brings the narrative to a head, going through multiple structures, starting with ElSaffar on vocals, which draw on the microtonal approach of the other pieces. While voices like this sometimes can feel even more jarring to these ears than the bent voices of the horns, ElSaffar's rich vocals have a way of making this setting just as captivating as the rest of the set. "Al-Badia," the album's coda and token non-suite track, has a great harmonic bass line that sets the scene for another blend of Eastern melody with jazz structure, complete with muted trumpet.

Stop me if I've made this point before, but the reason so much world music sounds flat to these ears is due to the way it leaves out the essential edge and passion that makes the music so vital and exciting. Amir ElSaffar has again assembled a group of sympathetic musicians who know how to keep the appropriate sparks flying, and the results are enthralling.

Allow me to clear my throat...

The end of the year must've been a dry spell and January must've picked up, or else I wouldn't have waited so long to post again. That's all going to change.... tonight. I think I finally am going to force myself to review a bunch of albums for the past few months.

So what has been going on?

Let's see... about three weeks ago Hospitality came to the Brillobox. I interviewed them for a piece in Blurt which ought to be popping up on the site pretty soon. Hospitality's album came out on Merge last week and seems to be generating some well deserved buzz. When the article runs, I might ask politely if I can get a finished copy of the album. I like my download, but it'd be nice to have a lyric sheet in front of me to help with the full experience.

Which reminds of something I wanted to opine about a couple weeks ago. I wrote about Kathryn Calder's latest album when it came out last fall (Bright and Vivid, on File Under: Music). The interview was conducted via email via a publicist. And it was okay, though there was no rapport there and I was going on a download of the album sent by said publicist.

I don't have a problem with that. The record wasn't out yet. BUT, once the article ran (a print article at that), I asked if I could get a finished copy of the disc. I like Kathryn's stuff a lot and would come back to it. After two emails with promises of yes, I'd get it... it never came. I'm not about to beg, and since I wanted it bad enough, I had it ordered for me here in town. (I'd've gone for the vinyl but it was $25 on the website and the store couldn't get it.)

So with the full artwork in front of me, one song into the album, I had two or three questions spring to mind that could've made the article a lot more compelling.

What's my point? We scribes understand why downloads are an easy way to get new releases to us, but when you take away the tactile part of the release - the stuff that some artists work a long time to complete - you take away an element that could result in the most compelling part of the article.

Did you think I was going to boo-hoo about not getting a freebie? No. That was just a tangent.

Rhapsody Jazz Critic's Poll

Here's a link to the Rhapsody Jazz Critic's Poll, of which I was a part. http://www.rhapsody.com/blog/2012/01/davis

You can view each critic's individual Top 10 at the end of the piece. Mine is there but for some reason they didn't list my affiliation with JazzTimes or this blog. FIE!

Up until about 10 minutes ago, I swore today was Friday.

Herculaneum Came to Pittsburgh

Playing right now: Herculaneum - Uchu

I got to see the above Chicago-based band and thought it fit to spin their album while writing about them this morning. They played at AVA, which hosts a Monday night jazz jam each week but doesn't usually have live bands. Most of the time, they present d.j.s.

There had been some confusion about this show, because at first I wasn't sure if it was going to happen at the Shadow Lounge (the older venue that's connected to AVA) or here. Then, not seeing any listing for it anywhere, I wondered if it was still happening. But I heard from the band's drummer Dylan Ryan that yes, it was going to happen and things would start at 7 p.m. Which of course meant 8 p.m., which is also fine, since that allowed for me to run across the street and get some pizza. (I hadn't had dinner.)

Herculaneum consists of four horns - trombone (Nick Broste), alto sax (David McDonnell), tenor sax/flute (Nate Lepine), and trumpet (Patrick Newbery) - plus Ryan on drums and Greg Danek on bass. A review in NPR described them as "like Charles Mingus if he lived in the 21st century" which gets to the heart of the matter, I suppose. But their tendency to play in non-4/4 time made me think of Dave Holland's larger bands, or something in league with another great horn-heavy band, Dead Cat Bounce.

Their tunes, many written by Ryan, with some by McDonell, Lepine and Newbery, often have simple chordal structures, with Danek holding things together with a steady riff, which leaves the horns to play melodies and countermelodies and harmonies on top of them. Things never got too free, though it was often at arms length. I especially liked McDonell's approach on alto, since he sounded pretty melodic but he wasn't after to overblow a little or get into a high trill for dramatic sake. There simply aren't enough trombone players doing this kind of music so I always seem to get caught up what they do. Broste was no exception. I thought of Roswell Rudd during one of his solos and I'm not sure if that's an accurate assessment or if it came to mind because he sounded gruff. Ryan really kept things swinging too, especially in the 5/4 tunes. Every so often he'd let fly with some killer accent during a solo. One time he even started a song sounding like George Hurley. (I heard he's actually from California, so maybe that's why.)

Uchu, the album I'm playing, is out on vinyl, so I had to buy it. I had a no-cover advance sent to me that didn't even have the song titles on the one-sheet, so it was a necessary purchase. I also got a copy of a previous disc that Clean Feed put out. Look these cats up at Herculaneumsound.com

Best of 2011? I forget

Before we get too involved in 2012, I want to weigh in on the subject of "Best of 2011" lists. And I have a feeling that this commentary will be very similar to what I wrote about a year ago on the subject.

I was asked to participate not only in the JazzTimes Best Of tabulations but also the Jazz List for what used to run in conjunction with the Village Voice, but this year will be posted on rhapsody.com next week. This year, I felt like I was a lot more familiar with more albums and would have a more vast opinion on the subject. Compared to last year, when I bought two of the Top 10 albums after reading about the list (Jason Moran's Ten and Paul Motian's Lost in a Dream, which both deserved their accolades, by the way). But I did a lot of hemming and hawing anyway: "Yeah, I heard that and it's good, but, ah........ I don't know if it'd go in my Top 10. What about this? I'm not sure about that either."

Much to my surprise, when I looked at downbeat's round-up of all the albums that received five-, four-and-a-half and four-star reviews, I didn't even know the albums that got five. Maybe I shouldn't confess all this in a public forum, because it might lead my editors to question my opinion on the subject. Or maybe it indicates that it's good to have a guy like me, whose tastes don't always cater to the status quo, adding some extra titles to the fray.

Here's the JazzTimes list. It doesn't surprise me that Sonny Rollins made #1. It shouldn't surprise you that I plan on buying that album today after work. The first album on this list that appeared on my list is #4. And I was pleasantly surprised to see that my personal #1 actually made the cut as #36 all around. (By the way, I realize I always unapologetically say, "Buy JazzTimes," to help keep print media going, and this is no exception. However the other good reason to do it is because the current issue has a great article on Vijay Iyer.)

I inadvertently blew off writing a Best Of list for Blurt in part because I didn't pay attention to when we were supposed to submit one. Besides, I feel like my rock list is full of even more holes than my jazz list. And when I saw their tabulations........woah, I really felt out of touch. Every year around this time, I tell myself, "This is why you shouldn't feel inhibited about asking for promos of stuff that you might not review anywhere: Because those labels should realize this one extra copy might actually get them into a Best Of list at the end of the year." Or I might just blog about them.

These end of the year lists are really for readers. People love checking them out. I know I do. I just don't like compiling them. They're also for the p.r. brass. I'm sure Sonny Rollins doesn't care, although I'm sure he'd express some appreciation.

Now before I make breakfast, I'm going to fire off an email to a friend of mine who usually sends an email out to me and some other friends of his, which triggers a discussion of releases from the year. That made contradict everything I concluded a moment ago, but I'm doing it more as a way to keep in touch with these guys.

Space Exchange in Pittsburgh

Last night was the first installment of Space Exchange, a new weekly series at the Thunderbird Cafe. Each week it's hosted by a different musician, all of which plays some strain of modern jazz, be it electric, acoustic, traditional or somewhere on the outs. Here's an article explaining it.

Last night Dave Throckmorton, drummer extraordinaire, sort of played host in a trio with guitarist Chris Parker (also one of the Space Exchange hosts) and bass guitarist Jeremy McDonald. Dave was his usual powerful self, throwing all sorts of accents in and strrrretching the tempo for just a few beats, like he was trying to slow it down, only to pull it back. Chris and Jeremy seemed to be playing with restrain at first. The tunes (no titles were mentioned) were chordally pretty simple and kind of repetitive. But Chris has two banks of pedals, and two amps too. He was playing a Silvertone which gave the music a great sharp sound. Plus he had some effect that made it sound like there was some keyboard backing up what they were playing.

Jeremy's playing really anchored the group. Occasionally he let loose a bit with some melodic lines, and I really envied both his tone and his bass - a Fender Precision. (I've never been one of those musicians who knows squat about different instruments and what different pickups do. But I love the sound of a Precision. I think Mike Watt had one the first time the Minutemen came to town. I also think that John Wetton played one in King Crimson, and a few years ago I realized that Wetton's attack and slightly distorted sound was something I tried to emulate in my playing.)

Anyhow, they played two sets. After the first I started getting a little restless. Might've been the hooch. They also seemed to be veering just a tad towards New Tony Williams Lifetime sounds, without dipping into something as badass as "Snake Oil." It was good but it didn't grab me as much. But I stayed the whole night and was glad I did.

On top of that, there was a really decent, attentive crowd there. That was really encouraging and I hope it'll sustain itself over the coming weeks.

There's actually a number of good shows coming up this month. In addition to all the Space Exchange shows, a Chicago jazz group called Herculaneum are coming to AVA next Wednesday, and a new Merge band called Hospitality are playing at the Brillobox on January 17, which wouldn't you know it, is the night Ben Opie's Flexure group is playing the Thunderbird.

On Jim Krenn

Somebody searched this blog in the past week using the phrase, "Where's Jim Krenn." And while I didn't have any information to answer that question, then or now, I felt like it was a good idea to start off the new year by opining on the situation with at-least-until-recently, longtime WDVE DJ Mr. Krenn.

I am a fan of the morning show hosted by Krenn and Randy Baumann. I'm not sure how long I've been listening to it, but I know it's been at least the last five years (basing that on when my son was born, which will be five years in a few months). The reason I like these two is because they're clearly pretty sharp guys. They're sharp in their commentary, because they don't cater to lunkhead responses to issues, unlike say the morning team on WJAS-AM, Jack Bogut or whoever is anchoring. (Yes, I listen to them too. We have the bathroom radio tuned to WJAS, though I'm getting less and less enamored as time goes on. But that's a different story.)

Granted, the latter team's curmudgeon responses to what us young folks and what that crazy liberal president does, caters to their target crowd, which is the retiree crowd. But by the same token, it would be easy for Krenn and Baumann to go for the blue collar, knee jerk response of the Pittsburghese crowd. And they don't. I'll even go farther and say they're pretty progressive in terms of their politics. They balance their opinions in such a way that they don't alienate guys like me, or the other crowd who want to hear AC/DC every morning and want to hear more opinions about how Troy or Sid the Kid played last night. To go out on a limb, they virtually carry on in the fine tradition of Lenny Bruce and Mort Sahl, who clearly had more liberal ideas about the world, rather than dismissing all the freaks as such, but they love good cheap sex joke once in a while. I can dig that.

Further, their skits are hilarious and have a level of thought that Saturday Night Live could really use. (I thought that show was through with their "let's take one sorta of funny joke and just repeat it through the skit" formula, but once Amy Pohler left, that seemed to be their m.o.) For one thing, Jim and Randy know that brevity is the soul of wit. I've never heard a skit of theirs drag on too long. Many times, I've wished they wouldn't end. That, my friend, seems to be rare in comedy, and they deserve an award for that.

This might seem to contradict my SNL bash in the last 'graph, but as much as the variations on the Pittsburgh Prom Kings might follow the same pattern, they put enough of a spin on each one that it never sounds like a rehash. And the Wilfred Brimley bit... they manage to make that funny every time. Bad puns and everything.

As the relative of a Pittsburgh Morning Radio originator (Rege Cordic, FYI), I'm well familiar with the issue of local stereotypes used in this format. Rege said in interviews that what he and his team did was never mean spirited, and I feel the same way about most of Jim and Randy's stuff. It walks the line, but it never crosses it.

A year or two ago, Whirl did a profile on the guys and there was a section where they asked each guy to list some albums they'd been listening to lately. Jim listed a bunch of classic rock stuff and Randy listed a bunch of things that looked similar to my playlist of the time. (The only thing I can remember now is the Arcade Fire, so you get the idea.) So maybe Jimmy and I would disagree on some points. But I'm sure he would join me in rocking out to Deep Purple's "Child In Time" (studio version from In Rock).

So what the hell is going on with him and WDVE? I can't tell you the many times I've said to my wife, "Man, those guys must be the station's meal ticket, since they replay their bits so much." Is he tired of getting up so early, after doing it for two decades? Is the station putting the screws to him in the name of numbers? Is he okay? The PG said today that he's still employed by the station, which is probably because they want to be able to keep playing the skits.

Losing that morning duo is bad for this city. And not just him. I know the PG said today that Randy will be back on Tuesday, along with Val Porter and Mike Prisuta (who always seems like the voice that balances out the others' progressives). I can only imagine how challenging it could be to be in their shoes, having to conduct business as usual with all this going down, plus having to field calls or comments from people who either just want to know the truth or be jagoffs about it.

Whatever is going on, I doubt we'll ever hear the truth.

CD Review: Taylor Ho Bynum Sextet - Apparent Distance

Taylor Ho Bynum Sextet

Apparent Distance

(Firehouse 12) firehouse12.com

Taylor Ho Bynum plays with a sharp clarity which indicates that he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. Even when he's rapidly spraying notes, somewhat reminiscent of Donald Ayler, he tongues some of the notes instead of merely letting his fingers run wild on his cornet valves as he blows. It indicates this isn't just random energy gone wild. A master of extended technique on his horn, he emits some incredible intervallic leaps in a fast blow, deceptively making it sound like a high harmonic that can naturally be felt on the horn.

Apparent Distance came together through from a 2010 New Jazz Works grant from Chamber Music America and the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation. Bynum states in the liner notes that he wanted to blur the lines between composition and improvisation and "upend listeners' expectations in other ways: circular melodies without beginnings or ends... transitions that are simultaneously jarring and organic." Considering his extensive performance career, not to mention his affiliation with Anthony Braxton (Bynum serves as president of the saxophonist's Tri-Centric Foundation) anyone familiar with the cornetist should probably come to expect such vision from him. And this music delivers it, wrapping such adventure in an approach that still manages to swing hard.

"Shift" opens with a couple minutes of unaccompanied Bynum, almost serving as an introduction to his cornet approach, sounding puckish and bright, along with some smears and squirts. It becomes more of a chamber ballad when Jim Hobbs (alto saxophone) and Bill Lowe (bass trombone, and later tuba) join in after a few minutes. Along with their wildest moments, it shows the sextet can be lyrical.

The piece is considered a four-part suite but each section has several different movements of its own. "Strike" follows "Shift" immediately, with Ken Filiano hitting a groovy vamp that adds an extra beat with each repetition, and then following it by subtracting it in the next series of riffs. Hobbs blows in the upper register while Mary Halvorson bangs out chords that threaten the foundation of the riff, eventually turning into interstellar space noise. This breakdown turns the presentation over to Lowe, who whips out the tuba, growling as he drones, methodically. When the group returns with some gentle but jarring intervals, Filiano bows his bass in the upper register like a cello.

The 20-minute "Source" is a virtual suite-within-in-a-suite, and it begins with one of Halvorson's strongest solos yet. In a lot of her work, she uses some sort of effect pedal that bends the pitch, which as great as it sounds, can become pretty similar each time. Here, she manages to blend that effect in with her mutant fretwork in such a manner that sounds unprecedented. Hobbs follows her with another wailing solo that could serve as a textbook lesson on how to play free jazz with passion. It makes me want to hear more from this guy.

"Layer" also crams a lot into the confines of nine minutes, although "crams" might be the wrong word because like everything else on the album, nothing comes across as excessive or overstuffed. This music has plenty of room to breathe freely. Bynum gets back in the spotlight here, at one point shifting from high scrapes down to clear bass notes in a matter of seconds. Gradually the sextet begins playing what sounds like a funeral procession, complemented by alto squonks, frenzied bass bowing and - in the final moments - fuzzed out power chords from Halvorson.

The lines that Bynum says he wanted to blur don't actually seem that blurry to anyone who enjoys music like this. But that only goes to show that composer and ensemble were successful with the execution of this suite. It's an amazing work by an amazing group of players.

CD Review: Kieran Hebden/Steve Reid/Mats Gustafsson - Live at the South Bank

Kieran Hebden/Steve Reid/Mats Gustafsson

Live at the South Bank

(Smalltown Superjazzz) www.smalltownsupersound.com

Maybe you just had to be there.

The unlikely union of British electronic musician Kieran Hebden and American jazz drummer Steve Reid was already four years underway when they teamed up with Swedish free saxophonist Mats Gustafsson at the Meltdown Festival in London, an event curated by Ornette Coleman. A former member of Fridge, Hebden has been working under the name Four Tet, doing remixes and working with the likes of Thom Yorke when he met Reid. His partner's resume includes Miles Davis' Tutu album and extends back to the soul-jazz Legendary Master Brotherhood and, prior to dates with Sun Ra and Frank Wright, begins with the house band at the Apollo Theater. He died in 2010, less than a year after this concert, from throat cancer.

From the way the two musicians talked about each other, they felt a kinship that bridged the gap between their ages (Hebden was 33 years younger than Reid.) Reid went so far as to call the event a "special relationship, like Miles and Coltrane, or Dizzy and Bird." It's nice to hear about such a strong bond, but that unfortunately doesn't come across in the music.

The group didn't lay any claim to being a jazz unit. They played free improvisation group, open to wherever the sound took them. But Hebden's contributions don't sound like much more than samples or loops, and most of the time, none of them last longer than a few beats so they get repetitive quickly. "Morning Prayer" begins hopefully with a swelling chord but never really expands beyond that idea, aside from a few noises that drop in on top. Reid doesn't really forego tempo for free splatter. He straddles fills and groovy accents. Clearly he was an aggressive player but the mix flattens the impact. It sounds like it was all recorded overhead, making his performance sound more like a series of rolls on the rack toms and cymbals splashes, all echoing behind Hebden.

Gustafsson allegedly got so caught up in what they were playing that he didn't join in for nearly 20 minutes. When his baritone sax finally makes its entrance, it adds some more dimension to the texture. But no one really seems to be responding to his co-conspirators, at least not in an audible manner. Gustafsson blows in the Ayler/Brotzmann tradition of growling overtones, which can get a little much on its own. In "25th Street" he just blows the mouthpiece while an organ riff repeats without regard for the drums, and everything just gets grating.

The final track of the two-disc set, "The Sun Never Stops," reveals a little more of a connection. Hebden's keyboard sounds come from early '80s new wave, which sounds oddly intriguing in the setting. They gradually collapse into noise, including metallic clatter like cowbells, which may or may not come from Reid. Either way, the energy is contagious, with Gustafsson's guttural blowing generating excitement onstage and off. But it arrives after too long of a journey to fully appreciate that final destination, cohesive as it is.

CD Review: Jason Stein Quartet - The Story This Time

Jason Stein Quartet

The Story This Time

(Delmark) www.delmark.com

It's been a good 14 months for Jason Stein. Last November, he released Three Kinds of Happiness with his trio Locksmith Isidore (go here for a review of it) and less than a year later this fine release hit the streets.

Stein plays bass clarinet exclusively, a rarity (maybe a first) in jazz, and he continues to develop his own identity on the instrument, incorporating the past accomplishments on the big stick, and using them in a way that's highly original. Taking that originality a step further, he has tenor saxophonist Keefe Jackson along as his frontline foil. Jackson is a great choice on the basis of his musicianship, but the combined sound of the two reeds gives the music a snaky quality. Bassist Joshua Abrams and drummer Frank Rosaly round out this A-list of Chicago adventurers.

The Story This Time is divided pretty evenly between Stein originals and interpretations of others. The latter category presents a good idea of the bass clarinetist's bold thought process: While many musicians think nothing of playing three Monk tunes on an album, only a certain breed would choose "Skippy," "Gallop's Gallop" and "Work," three of his more obscure and, in at least one case, challenging pieces. For "Work," Jackson switches to contrabass clarinet, adding more of a low-end gait to the piece, making it even more playful. Abrams plays like a third voice in this track too, bowing along side the horns.

The other covers come from the Lennie Tristano lineage, with one tune each by the great pianist, and his proteges Warne Marsh and Lee Konitz. Marsh's "Background Music" speeds along sounding like vintage Ornette Coleman with this arrangement. Stein and Jackson almost sound like they have trouble keeping up with the tempo, though that is not a criticism. Konitz's "Palo Alto" begins with some very un-Konitz like honks and squawks from the horns before they settle into the theme. "Lennie Bird" doesn't leave a lot of room for horn players to breath between phrases, but it energizes these two, who solo simultaneously for three concise minutes.

The quartet stretches out in "Laced Case," Stein's nine-minute tribute to Steve Lacy, which is marked by tempo accelerations and open sections where the composer runs wild all over his instrument, moving from rumbles to simulated feedback. "Little Big Horse" could pass for a hard bop classic, with its easy going line and off-beat accents, and flow of ideas from the horns. Jackson enters during Stein's solo to add some color the bass clarinet, and the transition to his own solo feels impeccable. For "Hoke's Dream" the horns plays a series of long toned themes, while Rosaly gently moves freely around his kit. Stein begins in kind, eventually escalating his feeling to keep the excitement going. As wild as he gets, he never forsakes the melodic voice in favor of visceral shrieks, though.

With its combination of challenging covers and strong original works, The Story This Time is definitely one of the year's best releases.

Honoring Sonny Rollins, missing Sam Rivers

Last night, Sonny Rollins was honored on the Kennedy Center Awards show. Just the thought of that is pretty exciting. Naturally I think ol' Newk is more than deserving of the honor, and it's good to know that others feel the same way.

I love Sonny, as a musician and as a human being. He was one of the first interviews I did as an intern at InPittsburgh and we talked for about an hour. A few years later, he wasn't doing interviews around the time of his appearance at the Pittsburgh Jazz Festival. So I faxed him some questions. Not only did he answer back a day later, his answers were very thoughtful and looked great in print.

Bill Cosby did the "induction" speech for Sonny, and while I feel like Cos has reached the point in his life where his shtick comes across more like a rambling old man (and the whole grumpy old guy act just isn't funny), he ended on a note of sincerity that was moving in its directness. The speech focused on how Cos traveled around the world, and in remote places like a dentist's office in Greece and a rickshaw in Japan, he heard Sonny Rollins' music - making it universal. "And tonight, we say, Sonny - welcome home." Something about those last two words carried a lot of weight.

For the musical part, Joe Lovano and Ravi Coltrane played with Christian McBride and a drummer who I can't remember. Then across the stage, out came Herbie Hancock, Jim Hall and Jack DeJohnette, along with Roy Hargrove, Benny Golson and Jimmy Heath. (McBride put together the film in between Cos and the performance and he probably assembled the band, which explains why there were two drummers but only one bassist.) It was brief and concise but good.

Much to my surprise, there was no sign of Wynton Marsalis.

Right before the show started, I went onto Facebook and found out that Sam Rivers died the day after Christmas. That hurt. Maybe it shouldn't, maybe it was a selfish, "now I'll never get to meet him" hurt but nevertheless, it got to me. It's hard enough losing a jazz musician, but losing such a mover and shaker of free jazz, feels even worse. If I didn't have the urge to write a review right now, I'd put on some wild Sam. Maybe I will on the way to work.

The American Song-Poem Christmas: Daddy, Is Santa Really Six Foot Four?

(Note: I wrote this review eight years ago at Pulp, a Pittsburgh alt-weekly for which I served as arts and entertainment editor. Back then, I wanted to give this CD five stars, but our star criteria didn't go up that high. It stopped at four. I stand behind this review all these years later and I'm reprinting here as a salute to what I think is a mandatory holiday release. Much like my original review, I'm publishing this too close to the holidays to generate any sales, but oh well. Maybe the cyberworld can offer a quicker fix than it did back then.)

Various Artists

The American Song-Poem Christmas: Daddy, Is Santa Really Six Foot Four?

(Bar None) www.bar-none.com

One thing that made vinyl records so enthraling in their heyday was the sheer number of so many weird and unusual recordings - the kind that made listeners wonder who in the Sam Hill believed that such ridiculous ideas deserved to be pressed and unleashed on unsuspecting ears. The dawn of recordable CDs makes it even easier for anyone to clog the market, but burning your own disc is now the equivalent of dubbing cassettes: They often have the basic look of a blank tape, regardless of the sound quality.

A record, on the other hand, brought with it at least some credibility, from the look of the label to the artwork on the cover - even if it came in a plain, white single sleeve. So when budding songwriters around the country received a single with their lyrics put to music, sung and played by some, er, "professional" musicians, it's no wonder they might think they could be the next Neil Diamond or Carole King.

The American Song-Poem Music Archives documents this institution - scam, some some might say - where folks submitted a check along with their preference for the tempo, style and gender of the singer who would immortalize their prose. After the music was whipped up, a not-quite-crack team of musicians would bang it out, usually in one take that ended with a fade-out so the players wouldn't have to worry about a clean ending.

The holiday season is perfect fodder for such lyical inspiration, with many yokels figuring they could write the next "White Christmas" or "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." This compilation, the second culled from the the Song-Poem archives, documents 21 such exercises. There's no reason this slice of Americana deserves any less than four stars, despite the fact that most of the lyrics are horrible. They're still catchy.

Besides, if we have to get bombarded each year with Steve and Eydie's insipid version of "Sleigh Ride" or Lou Monte's "Dominick the Donkey (The Italian Christmas Donkey)," there's no reason why catchy hokum like "Christmas Treat, Peppermint" can't fit right in. Sung by the studio gals under the name the Sisterhood, it sounds like something straight off the Lawrence Welk show. On the comp's title cut, Saint Nick becomes Mom's back door man, and singer Kay Brown sings it with all the subtlety of a high school choir soprano ripping through "Whatever Lola Wants." In other words, all the right pitches and none of the appropriate conviction - which is what makes this disc so entertaining.

Forget "so-bad-it's-good" ideology, just revel in the fact that this exists. The quaintness of tracks like "The New Year Song" or "Snowbows" (first line: "I know you've all seen rainbows...") evokes visions of lyricists resembling the woman in Far Side cartoons or Tex and Edna Boyle from SCTV. Even "The Rocking Disco Santa Claus," another Sisterhood monstrosity, sounds less like the handiwork of Giorgio Moroder wannabe than a dad - in this case, one William Dibble - in a desperate attempt at hipness. If you think about it hard enough, the Sisterhood starts to sound like Silver Convention rather than the Lennon Sisters.

These tracks all deserve to be holiday perennials, because no matter how bad they are, they're still a better listen that, say, the Manheim Steamroller and Celine Dion holiday bombast.

(Afterthought - I don't think I've heard Steve & Eydie's aforementioned "Sleigh Ride" anywhere since I wrote this review. And I've come to a point where I'd like to. Irony.)

It's nice to be appreciated

Playing right now: The Creeping Nobodies - Augus & Auspices

Thursday night was Customer Appreciation Night at Mind Cure, the record store around the corner from my house. After being home all day with a sick child, I was granted a brief reprieve from the kid and headed over to take advantage of the appreciation. (I stopped at Lili, the coffeeshop downstairs first, for a post-dinner joe.)

There was pizza and beer, but I was full from dinner so I started perusing the racks. It had been a few weeks since I was in there and there always seems to be some new stuff worth checking out, or else there's a rack that I missed the last time, since my attention span ran out.

I picked up this Creeping Nobodies album there. I've seen them twice in Pittsburgh (though it's been about seven years since their last visit) and have two of their CDs. This is might be the most consistent one, even though it appears to be a compilation of stuff from split EPs. And it really has a Sonic Youth-via-Thinking Fellers thing going on.

I also picked up a Neko Case album I'd never seen or heard of before, Canadian Amp, which is sort of a mini-LP with a number of cover tunes. While thumbing through the jazz I started thinking that it'd be cool to find another Von Freeman album, because he's a great Chicago tenor player... and lo and behold I came across an album on Muse by him and Willis Jackson. It's kind of split between the two of them, from a live concert, with standards and a some blues blowing vehicles, but maybe it'll grow on me.

While paying for the records, Mike asked if I was sure I didn't want a beer. I'm not a beer drinker, so I declined. Then he offered me a shot of bourbon. To that, I couldn't say no. I left feeling like I had just dislodged the remains of my cold, and I also felt glad to live in a neighborhood with a vinyl store, a coffeeshop and evening events like this.

I DO have reviews I want to write for the blog, but between illness in the family and change in temperature outside, I haven't had the motivation. Maybe tomorrow, which is my last day off before Christmas Eve.

LP Review - Tony Jones, Kenny Wollesen & Charles Burnham - Pitch, Rhythm & Conciousness

Tony Jones - Kenny Wollesen - Charles Burnham

Pitch, Rhythm and Consciousness

(New Artists) www.newartistsrecords.com

This might be the album that can introduce straight ahead jazz fans to free improvisation. Whereas most free music can scare greenhorns away with its aggresive energy and extended technique, Pitch, Rhythm and Consciousness sounds subdued, bringing together gentle, lyrical ideas with the loose approach to group interaction. It's banded into nine individual tracks but it flows like one continuous piece, where a few written ideas launch the trio and bring them back together at certain times to make sure things remain cohesive. Although there are moments when things sound extremely spare and open, the trio typically keeps a mood flowing so that the listener's mind won't wander.

Tenor saxophonist Tony Jones, who acts as a de facto leader, hails from Berkeley where he grew up playing with trumpeter Steven Bernstein, saxophonist Jessica Fuchs (now his wife Jessica Jones) and multi-instrumentalist Peter Apfelbaum, the latter who lead the group Hieroglyphics Ensemble, which added "New York" to their name after relocating there in the '90s. (The group played on Don Cherry's Multikulti album in 1990.)

Burnham might be best known for his performance on James Blood Ulmer's trio album Odyssey, but he has also worked with Henry Threadgill and Cassandra Wilson, among others. Wollesen, another Bay Area resident, played with Mrs. Jones when he was younger, and has become pretty ubiquitous due to work everyone from Bill Frisell and Myra Melford to Tom Waits and David Byrne.

Wollesen's contributions to this album are the icing on the cake, but it's worth starting at that point and working backwards. He skips a traditional trap kit, and plays nothing but bells, gongs and shakers throughout the album. Without any attempt to either keep pulse or keep away from it, Wollesen adds to the texture of the music, providing shape and direction to the sounds his co-conspirators create. There are moments when he isn't heard prominently, but even then his presence can be felt.

Jones maintains a strong lyrical stance throughout the album, staying in a warm, thoughful mood rather than exploring extreme dynamics of his instrument. Only two of the tracks have songwriting credit (his) and it's clear these are both preconceived themes that he brought to the table. "Dear Toy" opens the set with a minor ballad, where he concentrates on the middle register after following a Burnham solo with some long tones.

Burnham's playing brings up some of the most intriguing moments of the album. While he does bow gracefully, he also plucks his instrument's strings, making it sound like a koto or some other pungent Asian instrument. It makes a great introduction to "Billie," where Jones comes in with a mournful melody that evokes a stretched-out "You Don't Know What Love Is" (I feel like I hear this earlier in the set too). If they named the piece for the singer who spelled her name that way, they certainly good the mood right. In "Jessie," Burnham sounds like he's playing a banjo. This track is the only one, however, that stays a little too spare. Wollesen's gongs move to the forefront, over the "banjo" notes and soft tenor pedal points, but no one steps up to solo. But like all the tracks on the album, it doesn't overstay its welcome. (One track lasts just over seven minutes, the rest average three to five minutes.)

There's one other interesting quality to Pitch, Rhythm and Consciousness that could have been the opening statement had I not wanted to put the music itself up front: Tactile copies of the album are available only on vinyl, with digital downloads or MP3s available too. Last year around this time, on this blog, I opined that Nels Cline's Dirty Baby should be purchased not only because it was a great album but to give Cryptogramophone positive reinforcement for having the guts to release a double-CD set with two elaborate booklets at a time when any release is a financial risk.

The same should be said for Tony Jones. It's hard enough playing adventurous, bold music and releasing it on compact discs. But putting it out on vinyl shows a true commitment to your craft and to the people who influenced you (I think it's safe to say that Jones' formative years of music listening happened when vinyl was in its prime). The people who still buy vinyl are the ones who love music, which of course is a select group. Hopefully enough of them will check this release out because they won't be disappointed. Then they can play it for their friends who are scared of free jazz, and they will open their ears more and suddenly the whole of avant garde jazz will have a bigger fan base!

Well....no, not really. I'm not that naive and hopeful. But this is a great album and a great format in which to hear it.

Can't talk now. Listening

Playing right now: Cylinder - s/t (Clean Feed)

I got home tonight and a package from Clean Feed was waiting for me. Ha cha! I got two albums that feature Aram Shelton, but this one is more like a co-operative (I'm tempted to, but won't, use that word ascribed to bands like Blind Faith to describe Cylinder). Along with Shelton (alto, b-flat and bass clarinets), it includes Darren Johnston (trumpet), Lisa Mezzacappa (bass) and Kjell Nordeson (drums).

The other disc is by Arrive - Shelton, Jason Adasiewicz, Jason Roebke and Tim Daisy.

Too busy listening, but just wanted to make a request. It looks like the hits to this blog are starting to come more from people looking to actually check out the reviews, and not so much spammers or people who just hit "Next blog" while viewing. If you're checking out the blog, please stop to say hi, or leave a comment or something. It'd be cool to know what people think. And to see if the googlebot person in Mountain View is a. a real person and b. someone interested in the music or someone just doing their job.

7" review: Lovin' Spoonful - Alley Oop / Night Owl Blues

Lovin' Spoonful

Alley Oop/ Night Owl Blues

(Sundazed) www.sundazed.com

I had no idea that Black Friday was also another Record Store Day. Among the things released and available on that day, Sundazed released this - an outtake from Lovin' Spoonful's first album (available on the reissue of it) and an extended version of the closing track of the record.

Back around the time I posted an entry that appreciated the band's Everything Playing album, I considered ordering their debut, Do You Believe in Magic. It's the only album of theirs that I don't own and I really wanted to hear "Night Owl Blues." The opening seconds of that song are really light years from the band's lighter fare, such as that album's title track (though I will say the backing track of that song has a lot of drive). John Sebastian blows an extremely dirty harp intro that gets especially raunchy against Zal Yanovsky's echoey guitar chords. These weren't any ordinary white kids copping the style. This is genuine.

I haven't heard the song since I sold my two-fer Kama Sutra Best Of album about two decades ago. It wasn't a tragic loss, but something I would enjoy revisiting. So when I saw that was on this single, I was sold. Plus Zal's guitar solo doesn't fade out after three minutes. It goes for another chorus or two before Sebastian comes in, Joe Butler takes things into double time for a few bars and the whole thing wraps up neatly.

"Alley Oop" is indeed the novelty song originally done by the Hollywood Argyles. The band turns it into something of a garage rave-up, at least as far as the tempo goes, which gives it a nice bump, along with vocals by Zal.

At $8, these Record Store singles can be a little steep, but considering I would've paid more for a CD reissue that I'd probably set aside after a spin or two, this was a good investment.

Love Letters at Gooski's - a recap

Over the past couple of years, gigs have turned into dicey events for me and my psyche. The smallest thing can set me off, from a lack of caffeine prior to a show to the size of the audience to the amount of attention the audience pays to us. At the same time, if five people come to a show that I didn't expect, and/or if a few members of the audience laugh at our banter or whoop their heads off between songs, that can be all I need to have a great time.

I'm saying this because the planets aligned Saturday night at Gooski's. Arrival was easy (another factor in my mood). By 10:00, the bar was jammed with people, both in the back room where the bands play, and up front.

City Steps went on first, not too long after a constable showed up and served their frontman with papers. It sucks that he's getting sued, but I was almost relived that he wasn't carted out of there in cuffs. (Don't laugh - it's happened at Gooski's before, albeit at the end of the night as a set was winding down.) They really have a Belle & Sebastian vibe going on, but that could be because Michael happens to write catchy songs that follow the same sort of melodic path as that Scottish act. Having Bill and Kate, formerly of the Hi-Frequencies, in the band and adding a '60s vibe doesn't hurt either. They played for almost exactly 30 minutes, which was a little brief for me. Always leave them wanting more, I guess. And considering that I was worried about them going on at 10:30 rather than earlier, it meant things were right on time.

Neighbours were next, all tight Mod-pop in their sweaters. Keyboardist/singer Mike (there was a pattern here) had a Steelers sweater on, but it was still kind of in keeping with the theme. It's great hearing a band that's so incredibly tight, and clearly listening to each other to make sure things sound so cohesive. The sound was a little muddy, but it didn't matter. It felt great.

Then we Love Letters went on. Earlier in the evening, my paranoid side almost got the best of me, worrying that everyone except our close friends would leave before we got on. Not the case. In fact at least one friend from work showed up after checking out the Beagle Brothers at their show about five minutes away, at Sonny's. We were pretty well rehearsed for this show, and I think it gave us confidence. Sure there were a few flubs here and there, but when you're playing a song that alternates between 5/4 and 6/8, it's impressive enough that you attempt it. Especially when it's a deep cut Monkees song ("As We Go Along"). Erin, our drummer, sings the tune, which requires a good set of pipes, and she definitely has them. Since drums are really minor in the song, she came out front to sing it and only went back for the coda, which kicks it up to a dramatic level.

My other setback with playing last is that I try not to drink, or not drink too much, before we play because my hooch of choice kills what little vocal range I have. I was good and had just one before we started. And to lube the vocal chords a bit, I bought a shot of Irish whiskey before we went on. AND I SIPPED IT. Say what you like, but I enjoy sipping shots because you can appreciate them that way. I learned that from my friend Rob, who came out for the show, and heard us do one of his songs.

So good times, good set list, good bands. Now I'm yearning to do it again.

Have plans for tonight?

In case anyone reading this is in Pittsburgh, looking for something to do, my band the Love Letters are playing at Gooski's tonight, on Brereton Street in Polish Hill. City Steps are opening, followed by Neighbours and then us.

Good times. Be there.

CD Review: Mary Halvorson & Jessica Pavone - Departure of Reason

Mary Halvorson & Jessica Pavone

Departure of Reason

(Thirsty Ear) www.thirstyear.com

Mary Halvorson (guitar) and Jessica Pavone (viola) have played together in Anthony Braxton's 12+1tet and the Thirteenth Assembly, and they've each developed respectable careers on their own, in a variety of settings. Halvorson has been one of the most talked about modern guitarists in the past year or two, thanks in part to her trio and quintet albums. Among numerous other projects as a co-leader or supporting member, she also plays in People, a sort of free rock duo with drummer Kevin Shea. Pavone co-leads the groups Army of Strangers and the Pavones, and has received funding to compose several extended compositions, including the album Songs of Synastry and Solitude (which, just to prove the variety of influences here, was inspired by a Leonard Cohen album).

If the duo had been around in the early '90s, it's easy to imagine them as a fixture on the burgeoning Knitting Factory scene, when the club's original locale was releasing compilations and booking acts that combined uninhibited improvisation with music that drew on art rock or folk or something hard to peel apart with words, due to the blending of it. (It was usually summarized as "Downtown New York.") This is especially true when the two of them sing (on three of the 10 tracks), and their sullen voices are matched by equally obtuse lyrics. "The Object of Desire," regularly gets hung up mid-thought: "In the city city city city city/of events... it's the object object object object object/sometime before then." The effect creates intrigue more than abrasion, and makes them sound closer to Mary Timony or Rasputina's Melora Creager if they hung around with the college improv crowd.

Some of the songs on Departure of Reason (the fourth Halvorson/Pavone album and second for Thirsty Ear) sound like madrigals. Halvorson sets up a 2/2 riff, hitting a low chord and answering with a high one (and at times she does really smack the strings on her big hollowbody gitbox) and the viola plays a simple melody with an equally brawny tone ("That Other Thing").

The sparse sound of the duo occasionally would benefit from the addition of more instruments to fill in the surroundings, especially when they're both playing similar parts. But Halvorson and Pavone never like to stick with one mood for too long and many of the songs naturally flow into new movements, which sometimes require a check of the track listing to see if a new song has started. "New October" offers one of the best examples of this, starting with a minor folk melody, gradually bringing in ugly, atonal chords behind it and turning into a free metal freakout where Pavone sounds like she too is banging away on six strings. Halvorson regularly steps on her effect that bends notes to the extent that they sound like they're coming from a warped guitar (which presumably is too extreme to come from a simple whammy bar). The sound can be pretty similar with each use, and it detracted a little from her otherwise excellent Saturn Sings album from last year. But now she seems to have advanced her use of it, distorting it even further to a point where it picks up the sound of her hand, or pick, attacking the strings.

The previous albums by the duo struck something of a balance between their songwriting and improvisational side, making a clear jump from the song structures to the free skronk. This time, the transition feels more seamless, like their ability to blend the two has reached a new level of precision. It's jarring, but interesting, music.