Sunday, December 21, 2025

CD Review: Jeff Walton - Pack Animals


Jeff Walton
Pack Animals

Straightahead jazz - the type that stays faithful to a tune's chord changes and remains pretty rooted in tempo - can come off feeling a little tepid or at least unadventurous if it merely maintains a decades-old status quo. Rather than dare to push it forward, too many artists are content to merely celebrate the past and leave things at that. Not that the past is bad.  And some musicians find new things to say with old warhorses. Yet a lot of times it feels rote.

But every so often someone shows up who starts with a tried-and-true setting, like horn plus rhythm section, and brings a certain je nais se quois to it that elicits a "woah" reaction. (Julieta Eugenio springs to mind.) Tenor saxophonist Jeff Walton comes across that way on his debut album. The Massachusetts native, who now lives in Los Angeles, spent several years in Brooklyn, teaching, and playing jazz as well as getting involved with choral music. The latter experience manifests itself in his current quartet, a tightly knit group that gives everyone an active role, with a big payoff.

The forward momentum begins with album opener "NQT." Walton plays with a relaxed tone, thoughtful and a little smoky, spinning a line that begins with a short, descending hook but keeps on moving. The rhythm section (pianist Santiago Leibson, bassist Eli Heath, drummer Chase Elodia) move urgently behind him at first, sliding into a more relaxed pace as they go. It might be a stretch to compare the group to the Second Miles Davis Quintet (aside from their four-piece lineup), but their ability to bend and flex together inspires that similar attribute. This is confirmed greatly by the time Elodia takes his impressionistic solo.

Pack Animals features a three-track suite, composed intially with just rhythm parts for each instrument, bringing pitches in later. The title piece sounds through-composed, with Leibson's syncopated chords out front, Heath's bass and the leader's tenor eventually joining him. "Orange Away" feels almost like a ballad, with a rich tenor melody. Elodia's part keeps things spare initially with just a few hi-hat taps, before bringing in brushes. "Celings" utilizes counterpoint between tenor and piano, who meet up at the end of phrases. All three passages are relatively brief (two last less than three minutes each) but a lot happens in that space.

The interplay of the quartet becomes the element that keeps the sparks going throughout the album, from the suspenseful set-up of "Blues for George" (George who, Jeff?) to the closing "Crunch" where Leibson's upper register clusters add a fun, slightly dissonant edge that adds to the mood. 

Pack Animals might be the sleeper album of 2025, so consider this a wake-up call.
 

Wednesday, December 10, 2025

CD Review: Pat Thomas- Hikmah

Pat Thomas
Hikmah

An album can deliver a lot of promise, expectation or suspense within its opening moments. Hikmah, the new solo release by English (via Antiguan parents) pianist Pat Thomas is case in point. If the volume is up too high, the upper-upper register notes from the piano might make you jump as he strikes them quickly. This title track, taken from the Arabic word for "wisdom," indicates that such an idea comes through work and exploration, not through easy answers. Likewise, the piece proceeds with the right hand coming down a few octaves before long, trying to decide of the interactive between his ten fingers feels ominous or deeply meditative. The journey is the purpose here.

"For Joe Gallivan"  starts in a similar manner, with dissonant left-hand chords clashing with theright hand after some high plinks. In his liner notes, William Parker calls Gallivan an unsung drummer and points of the Latin feel of Thomas' playing. It's not a blatent Latin groove, but the rhythmic quality does move in and out of the performance.

The five other tracks features titles that pay tribute to other artists or acknowledge Thomas' Sufi practices. They all feel deeply personal, going in surprising directions. "For McCoy Tyner" does not channel the legendary pianist's style. Instead Thomas explores the inner body of the piano, striking and muffling a low note repetitively while scraping the strings in rhythm. He produces a deep sigh at the start of "Luqman the Wise," which feels more like a four-minute meditation where the unplayed notes sit equally with the barely audible (without a volume increase) blend of vibrating, plucked strings.

"The Shehu" and "Sheikh Amadou Bamba" both feature turbulent rhythms (the former almost like a blunt stride) that produce some engrossing work. The latter track, like "For Caroline L. Karcher," gets a little dense sonically, but the way it resolves makes the heaviness stand out for the contrast it provides. 

If Hikmah might be considered a challenging listen, it's important to remember the quest for wisdom itself is challenging as well. And well worth the effort.