CD Review: James Ilgenfritz + Brian Chase + Robbie Lee - Loss and Gain

James Ilgenfritz + Brian Chase + Robbie Lee

Loss and Gain

(Infrequent Seams) www.infrequentseams.com

Sometimes when writing critically about improvised music, detecting a good performances seems akin to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's famous 1964 assessment of obscenity: "I know it when I see it." When I hear it, that is. 

Sometimes good musicians can produce bad free improv. Sometimes unskilled musicians have a knack for creating a rich combination of sounds. I've also seen some musicians who think a steady diet of everything from Derek Bailey to Charles Mingus makes them a good player, but that's another cranky post for some other time.

Describing free improvisation in non-musical terms can evoke the spirit of the performance, but it's also just as likely to generate an eyeroll from this writer if things go too far. Too often I've read notes that seem so intent on not writing like some stodgy jazz critic that it comes off more like a Dr. Seuss-meets-a-musical-astrologist take on things. Yes, I know you don't want to say that a sax player merely blows one overtone like crazy, but talking about the universe and vibrations can get flowery as well.

In the notes to Loss and Gain, bassist James Ilgenfritz discusses the dynamics that come into play when three musicians get together and improvise. Rather than getting self-absorbed or high minded, he speaks realistically, pondering how a dialogue will unfold, and how discussions (or lack of them) can impact the performance. Listening to your fellow performers is key here, because it helps you to figure out how to react and it determines where the sound will go.

Ilgenfritz, Brian Chase (drumset) and Robbie Lee (saxophones, recorders, flutes, electronics) came to Pittsburgh in 2018, two years after Loss and Gain was recorded. (See a few words about that show here.) They performed at the Mattress Factory in a space with hardwood floors and high ceilings. The setting added to the performance because it made the acoustic music resonate and sound richer. Chase (also of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and a player on Jessica Pavone's recent Lull) played with restraint, making sure not to overpower his bandmates. And Lee had some wild looking recorders that he played.

The trio had already sharpened their listening skills when they went into the studio to record this album. Composing credits on the tracks are given to all three, save for "Happening." That track appears around the mid-way point and gives Chase sole credit, which means it might be the one that was composed - or at least planned - in advance. 

Without looking at the disc player, one track often flows into the next. Only one reaches beyond five minutes ("Happening") and another doesn't even last two minutes. Hearing free improvisation in short segments can be intriguing, leaving you to wonder if editing cut a track short, or if the band's thought at that moment was complete. In "Holding Tight," Ilgenfritz puts down the bow and plucks what almost seems like a response to Lee's cooing recorder. Chase's cymbals ping in the background, disappear and then reappear constantly. Then it's over, after just 2:35. Is that it? 

Maybe it's just a lead-in to "Happening," which, like a few other pieces, recalls (to my ears) the drones of "2/2" on Eno's Music for Airports. Recorder and bowed bass work so closely here that it can be hard to separate them. If their tones don't mesh, it feels more like one of them is implying a resolution to what the other guy is playing. The drums come and go, again, adding color to the sound.

Up to this point, the album has felt a bit subdued. Lee plays recorder most of the time on the early tracks, focusing on long tones. It adds a warm feeling to the sound, contrasting with the bass, which sometimes feels like it's on the edge of something more tense.

On the second half, Lee brings in some clarinet and sopranino sax which sonically, if nothing else, makes this feel like free jazz. "No Answer" features the latter reed, and some rumbling from Ilgenfritz, who sounds like he's playing the five-string bass he brought to the Mattress Factory (or else he engaged in some detuning). In the comically titled "Wwwbwwwwb - In between," Chase creates a steady pulse that adds to the low bowing and recorder dialogue. When they wrap up with "Finally (After)," it's Ilgenfritz's turn to pluck a snaky vamp. It's not really bluesy, but the way the cymbals and flute navigate the bass line, it sounds like some new blues. Or maybe it's just another way that these three lock in to each other's minds.