Ches Smith
Interpret It Well
Ches Smith explains, in the liner notes to Interpret It Well, how he invited guitarist Bill Frisell to play a show with Smith's trio (pianist Craig Taborn, violist Mat Maneri and Smith on drums and vibes). The trio had been together for a few years with an ECM release (The Bell, 2016) to their credit and Smith was trying to make the trio his "road" band. After Frisell called asking about the music, the drummer invited him to play a show with the trio, which took about a year to schedule. . But "as we played the show, Bill felt like a natural part of the band," Smith says.
I can back him up on this. I was there when the group played at the Stone in January 2020. The music still had amorphous moments - similar to The Bell - where it moved slowly, with direction coming gradually, from anyone of the four players at any given time. The guitarist's gestures felt like the most galvanizing moments too.
Interpret It Well brings that open feeling into the studio, with more than half the tracks lasting between 11 and 16 minutes each. What might start out feeling noodly and directionless gradually locks into a structure, or in some cases, feels like it reveals a structure that's been there all along but only begins to make sense after awhile. Don't blink or you'll miss something. The title track progresses in this manner, from a lone, snaky vibraphone line that gets joined by everyone else, leading to Smith to jump to the trap kit, with Taborn eventually ushering in a final movement, which grows out of a choppy solo.
"Mixed Metaphor" has an equally sprawling relief map of sound. Frisell begins alone in minor tranquility, joined by Taborn and Smith, whose vibes have the vibrato cranked on them. Around 7:30, the vibes lock into a 9/8 ostinato that Taborn picks up so Smith can return to the kit. Maneri bobs and weaves on top, bending notes and generally toying with the pitch. Eventually, the rhythm shifts to 5/8 which Taborn devours before things come to a close.
Throughout the album, the group stays true to Smith's assessment that they were a quartet, rather than a trio with a guest. The blend of viola and guitar in "Clear Major" flows over a two-note piano vamp and free drums. Everything breaks loose for a while, until Taborn whips up a stop-start piano riff, aided by Smith. There's no leader here but there is direction. In "Morbid," Frisell's harmonics inspire Maneri to bow some melancholia, which leads to vibes and whooping electronics before the guitarist brings in some of his trademark Americana twang.
Many of these pieces change shape every few minutes, like free improvisation that's guided by some higher power with good ideas about how things should sound. In some ways, it's hard to talk about the album without giving the blow-by-blow details. When a piano part gets a little repetitious or it sounds like there's no theme in sight, the group always confounds expectations and delivers something that brings cohesion to both elements.
In an interesting confluence of jazz and punk rock, the album's title and cover art come from Raymond Pettibon, whose often provocative illustrations graced the covers of many releases on SST Records, the label started by his brother Greg Ginn (Black Flag).
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