CD Review: Chris Kelsey & What I Say - The Electric Miles Project

Chris Kelsey & What I Say
The Electric Miles Project
(Self-released) whatisay.org

From the way Dave Liebman described his time with Miles Davis in the '70s, there was not a lot of group interaction. It was very much a case of "play when I give you the cue, stop playing when I give you another cue." It's not the way some jazz musicians wanted to roll, but when you have a solid electric rhythm section churning out a fat riff and you know your time is limited, it forces you to really put on a good showing.

That's what saxophonist Chris Kelsey channels on The Electric Miles Project, a set of tunes from Davis's funky electric period, along with two improvisations inspired by that era. The songs he picked to play in his quintet are more like riffs or, at best, sketches with a melody to occasionally restate to know where you are. The rhythm section is responsible for starting a fire and keeping it burning at a high level, in order for the soloist to take flight.

Because of this approach, the album doesn't become #246 in an unending series of fawning tributes to a jazz god, nor does try to put the music in a new-and-ridiculously-incompatible context. It finds inspiration in the original sources and calls on the band to come up with something new and vital. Which is exactly what happens for the majority of the album.

One thing that immediately makes this album stand out is that it's a Miles Davis tribute album with no trumpet. Nor are there any keyboards. There is however Kelsey (on soprano sax and straight alto), guitarists Rolf Sturm and Jack DeSalvo, six-string bass guitarist Joe Gallant and drummer Dean Sharp. Everyone storms out of the gate on "Agharta Prelude," with Gallant holding down the vamp with his bassline. But it's really Sharp who keeps things exciting with his variations, going from ride cymbal to high hat for example, or bashing hard. His accents are a key part of this album. Following one of the sudden stops in "Directions," Sharp reenters with an urgent flurry of eighth-notes on the hi-hat that takes the whole thing up a notch without varying the pitch or tempo.

Sometimes Kelsey seems content to make a statement and step back to let the band take over rather than have himself come across as the leader. Which is to say the guitars get as much if not more of the spotlight as him. Not to say that he's overshadowed. In "Directions" while the rhythm section sounds locked in and focused, Kelsey is free to fly all over the place, knowing that he can get chaotic and always have a place to land. This session does have some of the heaviest sounds to come from a soprano sax in quite some time.

Of the guitarists, both Rolf Sturm and Jack DeSalvo balance frenzied solos and wild atmospheres. Each has their own channel, though there's at least one instance where the high volume seems to bleed through into both channels. (Which is mentioned here more to cover the chances of getting them mixed up.) In the beginning of "Directions," Sturm's rhythm playing adds to this tense piece with an atmospheric quality that sounds like a rattled sheet metal. When he takes a solo later in the track, he unleashes some fantastic howls.

DeSalvo's wah-wah gets the whole set whipped up when he takes the first solo in "Agharta Prelude." He also gets to slowly open "Ife," bridging the gap between Pete Cosey and David Gilmour. He slowly evolves from atmospherics to structure before Gallant cues the two-note bass line. At 16 minutes, this track is the one piece on the album that doesn't completely sustain itself. Gallant does insinuate some chord changes and variety at some points, but the tempo and space in the riff lack a little of the staying power heard in the other tracks. Fortunately, it's followed by the extremely funky "Sivad" which captures the snare crack and elastic bass like it could have come straight out of 1972 (give or take a year).

Mention should also be made of the two "Mad Love" tracks, excerpts from a bigger improvisation, which like Miles' electric work, is cut into smaller pieces. Kelsey states accurately in the liner notes that the trumpeter never gets credit for his contributions to ambient music, which can be traced to albums like Get Up With It. Whether he cared to or not, the Prince of Darkness knew how to use space in music as well as someone like Brian Eno and these two tracks find the band doing the same. Part One is three minutes of free, atmospheric group play. By Part Two, which closes the album, they've settled into a groove, which relates as much to Miles as it does to progressive rock (I hear remnants of a Gong bass line in there).

Some tribute albums seem to tread lightly as they go about their business, almost worried about what the honoree would think. Kelsey explains in the notes how he came to this music (very well, it should be noted), but when the tapes began rolling, he and the band cut to the chase. Just like Miles.

CD Review: Roscoe Mitchell Quartet - Live at "A Space" & Roscoe Mitchell - Not Yet

Roscoe Mitchell Quartet

Live at "A Space" 1975

(Delmark/Sackville) www.delmark.com

2013 has seen the release of a few albums that elevate Roscoe Mitchell beyond his main identity as a jazz musician and founder of the Art Ensemble of Chicago to that of someone equally fluent as an classical-avant garde composer. Earlier this year, percussionist Alex Cline released an album-length reimagining of "People in Sorrow," that took the Art Ensemble piece and turnied it into an orchestral multi-media epic. (I thought it worked well, as you can read here, though a Downbeat writer did not.) Now there are these two discs, one a reissue of 1975 performance, the other a new one of other musicians performing Mitchell's compositions. Both pose the idea that Mitchell's m.o. has always been more than that of an adventurous jazz man.

"A Space" is the actual name of a performance venue in Toronto which hosted performers like Mitchell throughout the '70s. His group for this October 1975 date consisted of AACM co-founder Muhal Richard Abrams (piano), George Lewis (trombone, in his first recorded performance) and Spencer Barefield (guitar). 

The bonus cuts on Live at "A Space"  indicate that Sackville's original release didn't contain much in the way of jazz references. This edition begins with an atonal ballad (of sorts) titled "Prelude to Naima" which leads into a one-chorus reading of John Coltrane's "Naima." Strip away that track and all signs point to something new and different. And challenging, even to devoted fans.

Mitchell recorded two of these pieces with the Art Ensemble (aided by Abrams) in 1973 for the Fanfare for the Warriors album. "Tnonna" is a study in tension, with low sounds (in volume and pitch) flowing along. The AEC version included heavy breathing through the horns and a thunderous climax, which made all that suspense pay off. This version has some of the air, but no final thunder, which is something of a surprise. Still elements like Barefield's tremelo fretwork gives it extra color. "Nonaah," which Mitchell wrote as a solo saxophone piece before the AEC played it, is another bonus track, ending the set with a brief blast that gives the quartet a chance to wail. 

Everything beyond that is rocky terrain. Lewis' 14-minute "Music for Trombone & B-Flat Soprano" sounds like spontaneous exchanges between the two horns, but they frequently finish a thought together, indicating that more is going on. "Cards" may or may not be a game piece, in which the musicians play ideas taken from a deck. But it's marked by some of Mitchell's more abrasive writing techniques, where everyone plays in short outbursts, and if anyone plays for more than a few seconds, they're holding one note. Abrams in particular seems to rumble the same low piano notes over and over, sounded like a cue for a change that doesn't really come. Better are "Olobo," a solo trombone recitation, and the final bonus, "Dastura," where Barefield has a chance to be heard clearly as he duets tenderly with Mitchell. 

Roscoe Mitchell
Not Yet - Six Compositions
(Mutable Music) www.mutablemusic.com

Not Yet actually contains five compositions, since "Nonaah" appears twice, in vastly different arrangements. The mood and sound change with each track, as they all came from a March 2012 concert at Mills College (where Mitchell teaches) saluting the composer. (Mitchell plays on none of them.)

One of the surprising things is hearing Mitchell's work played on alto saxophones with the clear tone of a classical performer, rather than the gruff, scratchy feel of his playing. This is most noticeable in "Not Yet" where Jacob Zimmerman is accompanied by pianist Dan VanHassel. Zimmerman is also one of the four altos in the James Fei Quartet (which includes Aram Shelton) who blend that tonal clarity with the appropriate squonk on their reading of "Nonaah."  Although their version uses the staccato melody as an entry point, the version by the chamber orchestra (directed by Petr Kotik) begins in a more relaxed manner and seems to only reference the theme as the end. Where they go in between gets rather fascinating.

Mitchell must have approved of the album's sequencing as it begins in a way that forces you to drop expectations immediately. "Bells for New Orleans" has eight minutes of William Winant played tubular and orchestral bells. Once past the idea that these tones are not just marking the time but are playing an engaging melody, it can have a hypnotic effect.

"9/9/99 with Cards" could be a reference to "Cards" from the earlier album, but the Eclipse Quartet is harder to latch onto than the Mitchell Quartet, because the strings don't sound focused or cohesive. "Would You Wear My Eyes?" puts an emotional Bob Kaufman poem to a chamber orchestra accompaniment, but the words get buried in Thomas Buckner's heavy vocal vibrato, which doesn't waver throughout the whole piece.

Too many creative composers seem to get their due recognition after they've died. We can be grateful that Roscoe Mitchell has been able to chronicle his unique music during his lifetime. Even better, he's continuing to create to this day.

CD Review: Han Bennink/Uri Caine - Sonic Boom

Han Bennink/Uri Caine
Sonic Boom
(816 Music) www.uricaine.com

It's kind of a surprise that no one else has spoofed the title of Miles Davis' most famous album and come up with "Grind of Blue." Maybe a band of metal head music majors out there used it without taking it beyond the campus. But until then, the brilliant title will be credited to pianist Uri Caine and drummer Han Bennink, for a track on this live set of improvisations, recorded at Amsterdam's the Bimhuis. This piece actually begins with Caine sounding like he wants to play a ballad, until Bennink adds some thunder to the scene, making the dynamics rise and fall.

Bennink, of course, stands as one of the most (if not the most) wide-ranging drummer in jazz and improvised music, able to go from the most chaotic free flights to the hardest 4/4 swing at the drop of a hat. He can be equally zany or sensitive. Caine also balances different musical worlds in his playing. He's combined a vast knowledge of classical music with a keen sense of improvisation, not to mention funk and fusion.

Onstage they're aware of how to utilize their skills and work with each other. The title track begins like a personal introduction, Bennink taking a brief free solo, Caine following with some pointillist piano before they both cut loose. Yet the piece still has some lyrical moments. "Furious Urious" lives up to its title too, since the pianist displays some fury, but that doesn't stop him from shifting into a hard stomping, bluesy groove before its done.

Without looking at the track listing, it's possible to miss the inclusion of a Thelonious Monk composition. The melody to "'Round Midnight" gets stretched and extended, with a few phrases standing out so as to perk your ears, indicating something familiar is lurking. And it retains some gentle qualities, proving these guys not only know the tune, but understand that by playing such a famous song, it's important to bring some individual stamp to it.

Albums like Sonic Boom prove that free improvisation is not always an alienating, self-indulgent type of music. It can accessible and more importantly fun if the ears open up and listen well.

I H8 Radio

Playing right now: John Coltrane - Sun Ship: The Complete Session
(I thought about getting Mosaic's 3LP edition of this set because I'm sure it's beautiful and elaborate. But I could use the extra $60 I saved by going with the CD version, and put it towards the Mingus box that Mosaic released a while ago. Besides, I'll get to play the CDs in the car or other places so I'll get to explore it more.)

I heard a radio ad for the I Heart Radio music festival that's coming in a couple months. The voiceover stated that the show is making history. It hasn't even happened yet. How the hell can it be making history? I've really had it with this whole notion of writing the history books before the historical event even occurs. There are many examples of that happening, but as far as music goes, the shining example of this dubious act happened in the late '90s when there were new Woodstock festivals. The promoters felt entitled to compare their shows to the original 1969 event simply because they were staging a big outdoor concert with a myriad of different performers in roughly the same area. Now all that anyone remembers from those concerts is the event in, I think it was 1999, when flocks of concertgoers set fire to overpriced vendor stands and assaulted fellow concertgoers. Everyone seemed to forget that the reason the original Woodstock is held in such high regard is that no one had done something on that scale and that no one had any idea how huge it was going to be. Those three days probably invented the phrase "logistical nightmare."

But anyway, about this I Heart Radio show - the other thing that's so annoying about the show is they're crowing about ALL THE ACTS THAT ARE GOING TO BE THERE. Usually the commercial switches to a flat, emotionless woman's voice that sounds computer generated, who rattles them off in a manner that doesn't relay any excitement. [I'd rattle off some of them but a. I don't really care about accuracy right now and b. when I did try to look up the website, it made Coltrane freeze up and stop by playing.] Point is: You've got your hard rock, you're got your hip-hop, you've got your Top 40, you've got your R&B AND IT'S ALLLL GOING TO BE IN THE SAME PLACE!

Wow - isn't that great?! All these people who like all this different music will get to hear it all in the same place! Maybe Aerosmith will bring Kei$ha up for a song. Maybe Gwen Stefani will do a song with Lil Wayne. But why stop there?  How about Carly Rae Jepsen and the Fleet Foxes? Maybe Lady Gaga should do a set with Anthony Braxton! I mean really, she's admired by people beyond the Top 40 field, and she's uh, experimental, I bet she could make weird vocal noises for 40 minutes over a Ghost Trance piece. And if you put all this music together on one stage it means that everyone's going to like it, doesn't it?

In case you're not picking up on my sarcasm, I'll put it another way. Do you know what happens when you mix all the Easter dyes together, in hopes of getting a color that's just as beautiful as all those Paas dyes that you have on the table? You get brown. A mediocre result of too many things thrown together.

I was once part of a well-intentioned group of people in Pittsburgh who tried to start an organization that brought all the diverse musicians in town together, the idea that it was for a greater good. I came away realizing that this doesn't need to happen. AND IT'S OKAY. If metalheads want to hear rap, they'll explore it on their own. If jazz musicians think indie rockers have no talent and mope, don't try to force them to change their mind by forcing them listen to it.

And I Heart Radio isn't making history by putting all kinds of acts together. They're not going to turn anyone on to something new and different. People will see the acts they want to see and when someone comes on that they don't know, they'll go get a beer and start scoping the crowd and texting their friends.

CD Review: Keith Jarrett/Gary Peacock/Jack DeJohnette - Somewhere

Keith Jarrett/Gary Peacock/Jack DeJohnette
Somewhere
(ECM) www.ecmrecords.com

This album, and pianist Keith Jarrett in particular, have been a hot topic of discussion over the past few weeks. Matthew Shipp sounded off on this album in what was actually a pretty fair and even-handed assessment of it. That's not to say he liked it, but he was well-spoken on it. At least one person on Facebook had to comment, "Matthew Shipp is just jealous." That's about as asinine as saying... well, I have a metaphor but I don't want to start a different kind of debate here. Anyhow, if you want to know what Shipp said, it's right here. Read it because it's pretty articulate and reveals some things about himself that are surprising.

Jarrett also generated some head shaking himself with his return to the Umbria Jazz Festival, from which he was banned a few years ago, after a crabby outburst. That's right here.

On top of all that, Somewhere, the reason for this entry, got a Five-star review in Downbeat. (Jarrett's also on the cover of the newest issue.) That's right - five stars. Instant classic. A Love Supreme. The only other person who's gotten five-star reviews from them, and is still alive to read them, is Michael Formanek. I haven't read the review yet, because one of my journalism teachers suggested a long time ago that you never read a review of something that you're about to review yourself. (My good intentions cause me to miss a lot of critiques that way.)

So anyhow, about the album...

It's not bad.

Seriously,  playing nothing but standards - two from West Side Story, no less - can come off like a tired, phoned-in concept for an album but these three musicians (whose rapport goes back three decades) bring a spark to the program. Even when they space out and play two chords for more than 10 minutes, a level of energy keeps it moving.

Sure, Jarrett's playing can get sort of spacey, meaning tangentially, content to just let sounds ring out. "Stars Fell on Alabama" moves along laguidly, with a lot of open space in it theme. But he's not squeezing the life out of the words like an overwrought vocalist. He's letting them breathe. Jack DeJohnette's brush work and cymbal rolls help to open it up with their accents. (For better or worse, there's Jarrett's trademark growling acting as another intrusive punctuation while really comes out in a whiny way during the solid swing of "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea." And to think, he's distracted by flashbulbs or crowd noise.) Gary Peacock plays a laidback yet grooving solo in "Stars," which is fine follow-up to the brisk one he plays in Miles Davis' "Solar." After another bass solo in "Devil," Jarrett trades fours with DeJohnette, who has really been kicking him forward throughout the tune.

"Somewhere" can come across as a rather sappy song, aside from the version Tom Waits recorded on Blue Valentine where his gruffness lent new depth to the hopeful message of the song. Not until Vijay Iyer recorded it a few years ago did the mush start falling away. Now, Jarrett manages to keep the song's sensitivity intact while keeping the mood of the trio's arrangement on the gentle side. After playing the tune for about five minutes, Jarrett locks into a two-chord vamp - and stays there for about another 14 minutes. Titled "Anywhere," it finds the group exploring every way they can sustain the energy over such a simple structure and for at least 10 of those minutes, it works. (By that point, it's easy to get restless but you figure, you've come this far, why not keep going.) This is what's meant by a musical journey, Jarrett holding down the fort, DeJohnette adding color to it, with Peacock adding some trimming. This isn't showboating riffing, played just to get an audience's reaction to technical tricks. This is about getting lost in the moment and seeing what happens.

So this writer wouldn't give the whole album five stars, but I still had a good time listening.

Belle and Sebastian visit Highland Park

Let's see if blogging will get the Verizon guy - now 2 hours and 22 minutes past his window of arrival time - to show up.

Belle and Sebastian played in Pittsburgh on Saturday. It was their first time in town, and my first time ever at Stage AE. Decent place, I suppose. They get you coming and going the way other big outdoor venues do, but it didn't seen as rigid and staffed by meatheads the way that place in Burgettstown is. (I"m not even sure of the name of that place anymore.)

After driving all the way over there to find that all of the overpriced parking garages and lots were full, Jennie and I rode over to the far side of the North Side, past the Warhol Museum, up and around the corner, near East Ohio Street and the Priory (if the latter is still there, anymore). Then we walked back.

We missed maybe the first 15-20 minutes of Yo La Tengo but still got a heavy, heavvvvvvvvvy dose of droning rock. We heard the drone in E, the drone in A, the long riff in D.... Seriously, it was a pretty decent time. I think I was just wiped out after a day of work, not having dinner before I left and the struggle of getting there. (The Pirates were playing too, which explains the lack of parking.) And every song started to sound like the grand finale of the set, with all the surging, churning chords and feedback. Maybe it's like a Cecil Taylor performance, where you must be there for the beginning because it won't make as much sense entering late.

But when Belle and Sebastian hit the stage, they had the audience from the first high register chug of the bass. Yo La Tengo had been a slow build up to what was now going into overdrive. The sound was great, the band was tight - seven of them, along with four string players and a trumpet/French horn player. Most significantly, Stuart Murdoch was incredibly charming. Very light-hearted and engaging.

He broke the ice by making cracks about the flashing Bayer sign on the side of Mt. Washington, which kept flashing "instructions" as he called them. "Wear your safety goggles" was the one that got the first laugh. "When should you wear your safety googles," he wondered. "During a sexual experience?" (I'm paraphrasing.) Earlier in the day, he jumped on a PAT bus to see where it would take him, because he likes getting lost and trying to find his way back. He wound up in Highland Park, where he came across a lot of yard sales, though he didn't buy anything. Kind of makes me wonder what most B&S fans would do if they spotted him walking about Highland Park. Probably nothing because they wouldn't recognize him.

Another cool moment came when he started talking baseball, and appreciating the Pirates, leading to a two-chorus rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," complete with keyboardist Chris Geddes using a ballpark organ voice on his keyboard. In someone else's hands, this would have been cheesy, but it only made Murdoch an even more likable person.

I'm not completely up on the post-Isobel Campbell run of albums that B&S did, so I don't know how much they played from Dear Catastrophe Waitress and Sing About Love. Also, when I interviewed Geddes for City Paper he mentioned that they might be doing a few new, as-of-yet-unreleased songs. So they might have shown up too. Regardless, the group energy and fun never dissipated.

By the time they did "The Boy With the Arab Strap," Murdoch has already gone into the audience to sing with people, who sounded like they were singing along into the mike (shades of old punk rock shows!). So for this jaunty number, between 20 and 30 people jumped onstage and started dancing along to the song. It was mostly young ladies who were more of the oh-my-gawd-I-can't-believe-I'm-up-here type than hip kids who didn't want to betray their excitement. Nevertheless it was a good time. Even on my caffeine-deprived, empty-but-not-yet-hungry stomach, there was no cynicism coming out. The band played for at least 90 minutes, starting at 9:30 and doing the first encore ("Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying") around 11:00. We started making our way out of the venue at that point because I didn't want to get too caught up in traffic and I wanted to make sure there was enough time to pick up some wings at Gooki's.

That faraway parking spot turned out to be the right choice after all. The Pirates game was letting out (WE WON!) as we were walking against the throng of baseball fans, including myriad seniors who had come down in charted buses. The way back didn't seem quite as awful as the walk down, and after calling in an order for my dinner, I was able to get some take-out on the way home. No time or energy for a high ball though (and as I found out a night later - no gin either!).

CD Review: Jonathan Finlayson & Sicilian Defense - Moment & the Message

Jonathan Finlayson & Sicilian Defense
Moment & the Message
(Pi Recordings) www.pirecordings.com

Trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson begins his leadership debut in a mood that sounds awfully close to the composer with whom he regularly plays: Steve Coleman. "Circus" begins with some staccato funk, always reshaping the bar line so it's hard to count. Everyone works together creating something tight and intriguing.
Suddenly, about half-way into the tune, Finlayson changes his mind. The tempo slows down and he starts blowing long tones on his trumpet. An ascending chord progression starts to add suspense to the music. He's clearly doing more than paying homage.

This oversimplifies Finlayson's m.o., of course. And as it turns out, "Circus" was inspired by another unique bandleader/composer, Henry Threadgill, anyway. Playing with either musician is going to leave a big impression on how you project your own thoughts, and the trumpeter is getting pretty clear ideas about how to execute them. The name Sicilian Defense comes from an opening move in chess, and that sort of deep thinking carries through the album. Melodies don't always resolve clearly, and the band seems to be looking ahead to their next move. Like Coleman, it isn't meant for casual listening, but it's definitely an engaging listen.

Sicilian Defense includes Miles Okazaki (guitar), David Virelles (piano, who had Finlayson on his Pi release last year), Keith Witty (bass) and Damon Reid (drums). Despite having two chordal instruments in the band, things never get lost in clusters of notes. In "Lo Haze" Witty and Virelles interact while Okazaki adds some spare comments behind them. As the song goes on, Reid (who has played with Steve Lehman and Rudresh Mahanthappa) gets a chance to go wild. "Ruy Lopez," an actual transcription of the first eight moves of a chess game, is slower, with trumpet and guitar engaging in a twist on what sounds like a call and response.

"Fives and Pennies," the penultimate track on the album, last 12 minutes, all of it put to good use. The piece slowly develops, keeping the spotlight on Finlayson's bright tone, which has also been heard with Mary Halvorson's band and on Steve Leman's Travail, Transformation and Flow (2009). Moment and the Message might not completely reveal itself on the first couple hearings, but it will lure you back to figure out what is going on with this bold voice.

CD Review: Blue Cranes - Swim

Blue Cranes
Swim
(Cuneiform) www.cuneiformrecords.com

Portland's Blue Cranes might not be thought of as group that plays jazz, despite their two-saxes-and-rhythm-section lineup. There are some horn solos on Swim, but the first "real" one doesn't come until track five, "Great Dane Small Horse." The sax screams in "Beautiful Winners" serve as a parting comment instead of a gateway to extended blowing.

But the quintet comes off a bit like Jeremy Udden's Plainville group, playing what might be called post-rock had it been played on guitars. The textures of the music could lend themselves to visuals, and it's constantly moving, exploring the way the group and the band-and-a-half of guest musicians create something that sounds big and vast.

Alto saxophonist Reed Wallsmith and tenor saxophonist Joe Cunningham frequently play lines full of sustained notes, in the range where their horns cross over, so it's easy to mistake one for the other. Even when Wallsmith plays a raspy solo in "Soldier," it lures you closer to make sure you know what you're hearing. This track is one of five that includes a string trio adds to the texture, with violist Eyvind Kang sitting in on two more of them.

The group sprouts five more horns in "Cass Corridor" though they don't appear until the very end. During the whole song, drummer Ji Tanzer thumps a metronomic beat with help from Rebecca Sanborn, who adds a single electric piano note to the foundation, leaving Wallsmith and Cunningham to unravel a line of whole notes. After a countermelody from the strings, the extra horns (some hailing from Los Lobos and tUnEyArDs) join in for some pedal point chaos to take it out. It sounds both grating and hypnotic.

Swim was created amid some lifechanging events, both good and bad for the band, and knowing that makes the reflective quality of the music a little more obvious. The ballad "For Chris" seems like a sweet eulogy. "Painted Birds," which gives the group a chance to open up and blow free for a bit, points toward the desire to carry on, with hope for the future. The album closes with "Goldfinches," another slow shuffle which gets some levity from the guest saw of Cooper McBean (of The Devil Makes Three). Each chorus adds more instruments gets more expansive.

With Nate Query of the Decemberists producing Swim, the group seems to have harnessed some of his band's je nais se quoi. They take what might sound simple in lesser hands and make it dense and intriguing.

Eleanor Friedberger was here!

Eleanor Friedberger is asleep somewhere in Pittsburgh right now. Wish I was too. Last night, her show at the Brillobox was a mess of fun. This is the first time she's been to Pittsburgh on a solo tour, in this case in support of her new Personal Record album, her second solo release. Opener Cassandra Jenkins and her band accompanied here (seen above; that's Cassandra on bass).

We got there after Cassandra had started. Her songs were kind of subdued, slow tempos with room taken up by ringing keyboards and e-bow guitars. Things were paced really well so that by the end, the energy had built to a good crescendo.

All-female band Teen was up next, and they were almost a tough act for Eleanor to follow. One part new wave dance, one part psychedelic drone, one part 21st-century version of the Raincoats, they were awesome. Great songs that alternated between simple and extremely catchy.

One thing that was a little different from Fiery Furnaces shows was that Eleanor seemed more visible in the small Brillobox space. When I got there, she was working the merch table, chatting with people. She's extremely personable, but at FF shows, it seemed like she was a little more distant, perhaps staying in the zone to remember all of those lyrics. Her setlist was predominantly stacked with songs from the new album. She alternated between playing rhythm guitar and just standing there with mike in hand, occasionally getting into the music and dancing around the stage. For the final song, she leaped off the stage and joined the audience. Good times. My notes are pretty illegible so it's hard to offer any further descriptions of the set. So let me put it this way: You should've been there.

CD Review: Ceramic Dog - Your Move

Ceramic Dog
Your Turn
(Northern Spy) www.northern-spy.com

Marc Ribot is not the type of person who will hold back, whether he has a guitar in his hand or the phone to his ear, giving an interview. (We spoke about a decade ago, and Mr. R struck me as a loveable wiseguy. Which is different than a grouch, or a tough interview.) But truth be told, I wasn't feeling it when I heard Ceramic Dog's 2008 debut, Party Intellectuals. One of the great things about Ribot is how he can jump from jazz to rock to free improv like some people jump to conclusions. And he has no inhibitions or second thoughts as he does his thing. But Party Intellectuals sounded like abrasive playing without any of the vitality that has fueled nearly all of his work. It's pretty likely Ribot would have told you he didn't give two hoots about what people would think of the album as he made it, and would relish the thought of pissing people off, but it felt noodly.

All that's turned around with Your Turn. The trio (Ribot, bassist Shahzad Ismaily and drummer Ches Smith)  have turned into a fierce, focused rock machine. In much the same way that the original Tony Williams Lifetime sounded like jazz guys playing psychedelic rock, Ceramic Dog sounds like jazz guys playing post-rock or indie rock, and whipping the pants off all those bands obsessed with playing riffs in odd time signatures. In many cases, they do it with simple structures. The title track is built on a two-chord groove with Smith hammering a solid 4/4 while Ismaily plays it 5/4, and Ribot starts with a feedback howl and lifts the bandstand. "Ritual Slaughter" does almost the same thing, sonically, with some added breaks thrown in.

Ribot's vocals appear on several tracks, starting with "Lies My Body Told Me" another two-chord grabber that builds in suspense and volume as he spins his unique tale of lust gone wrong, sounding like some indie folk player who knows how to use his instrument to release the feelings he's vocalizing. "Masters of the Internet" almost sounds a little overdone in its sarcastic condemnation of people who don't pay for music (complete with a Middle Eastern melody added in the chorus), but the visceral sound of the whole production makes up for it. Same goes for "We Are the Professionals," which sounds like a Beastie Boys tribute, with trade-off rabid vocals over some delightfully sloppy funk, with horns and dinky keyboards.

In other spots, they play "Avanti Popolo," a marching band vignette that sounds like it's going to turn into "You Are My Sunshine," before it gets overcome by guitar noise and fades into "Ain't Going to Let Them Turn Us Around," a fairly straight-laced tune with a reggae lilt to it. Then there's the song that probably will get mentioned in every review -  their noisy version of "Take Five." Ismaily sounds like he's sticking to the main riff without making the changes, but again, the spirit of the performance (with more overdubbed horns adding punctuation, courtesy of Ribot) takes this to a higher level. Violinist/vocalist Eszter Balint (who needs to make another album of her own soon) and skronk forefather Arto Lindsay guest on a few tracks, but Ceramic Dog are the ones in the spotlight here. Hopefully these cats are playing punk rock gigs and blowing the kids' minds. Guys - come to town soon. Everyone else - drop everything if they're headed your way.

Random Thoughts.

I would prefer to be writing a review of an album for this space right now, but I know that there's not enough time to devote to it before I have to leave for work. Maybe tonight. Till then, here are some random thoughts:

I had a dream last night that Mission of Burma was in playing at Club Cafe and it was sold out, with no chance of getting a ticket. Ack. I woke up and tossed and turned a little bit before I finally found a comfortable position and fell back asleep.

Ernest Dawkins isn't coming to Pittsburgh next Monday after all. Eleanor Friedberger is still coming and here's an article I wrote about her, for which I've gotten a few compliments. 

Yesterday was a looooooooooong day, not only because I worked 12-8 (with a meeting prior to that) but because I had to be up at 6 a.m. to interview Chris Geddes from Belle & Sebastian. He was home in Glasgow (where it was 11 a.m.), and that time was actually sort of convenient for me, since I'm typically up that early. The thing is, I don't really know B&S's albums that have come out in the last 10 years, so I was panicked, leading up to the interview. It's the suspense - or is it the anticipation - that kills me. Luckily for me, he was a nice bloke.

CD Review: Uri Gurvich - BabEl

Uri Gurvich
BabEl
(Tzadik) www.tzadik.com

BabEl has an interesting concept: assemble a group of musicians who all hail from different countries, with the Biblical story of the Tower of Babel framing the compositions. In the story, the people all spoke the same language until God intervened and then everyone spoke a different language and they were dispersed around the world. The album, in theory, brings things back around, where players of different languages can speak one musically. If it all sounds like another attempt at watered down world music, remember this is a Tzadik records release, known for its "Radical Jewish Culture" series.

In some ways, BabEl sounds a bit straightforward. Israel native Gurvich (now living in New York) plays alto saxophone with a clean, crisp tone. This is no chaotic blowing session, but a series of melodies that seem to take on more depth as the album proceeds. The opening notes of the album actually come from Brahim Fribgane's oud, which only appears on a few songs. "Pyramids" evokes Egyptian music, as well as a bit of spaghetti western loneliness. Gurvich plays in a fleet-fingered manner during his solo, which Fribgane also does during a rubato section, accented by drummer Francisco Mela's commentary, before the oud plays a lyrical solo in tempo.

"Nedudim," which translates to "journey," has an electric keyboard riff from Leo Genovese that sounds like a Farfisa organ. That provides the contrast to the arrangement, which sounds like an extended composition more than an piece with an open spot for solos. Ironically, the alto solo in "Scalerica de Oro" has the strongest jazz feeling up to that point, with electric piano and oud rising behind Gurvich, with at least one of them utilizing a wah-wah effect. Ironic because this is the only non-original track, a Traditional Sephardic song in Ladino (the language of Jews of Spanish origin) which is sung at weddings to wish the bride good luck. The 21st-century arrangement, which includes vocals and "mazel tov" in the climax courtesy of all five musicians, puts an interesting spin on the piece without sacrificing the power of its origins.

From there, the album continues with something of a blend of Israeli melodies and Coltane-styled execution. The three-part "Higiga Suite" has some strong rubato and heavy comping from Genovese before Gurvich plays a solo that highlights the vocal quality of his alto. "Camelao" begins with a solid foundation from bassist Peter Slavov and, after some urgent trade-offs between alto and piano, Mela combines his trap kit and well-placed percussion in a strong solo.

Sometimes the interplay between the members of the group flows so well, the music almost seems a little laidback. But Gurvich has a lot going on in his writing and his band that requires - or perhaps demands - a deep examination, which yields some great satisfaction.

Pittsburgh Jazz - yes, it's here

The Pittsburgh JazzLive International Festival happened this past weekend. (I wrote about here if you're interested.) It looked really good, with three stages set up in or around Penn Avenue downtown, and a Jazz Crawl on Friday night. Next year, I need to take the whole weekend off of work. That, and family obligations, doomed my time there and I was only able to see one set. Maybe I'm overthinking my presence with something like this, but considering I write for a national jazz magazine, I feel like I should be there when my hometown - one that normally gets passed by the majority of touring jazz acts - finally gets the likes of Gregory Porter, Allison Miller, Pat Martino and Eddie Palmieri here on the same weekend.

I did get to see Rudresh Mahanthappa on Saturday afternoon, though. That was pretty spectacular, with him blowing the hell out of those twisted numbers. His group is amazingly tight. Dave Fiuczynski on guitar, Dan Weiss on drums and Rich Brown (filling in for Francois Moutin) on bass. It sounded pretty rock from where I was standing, to the side of the stage. If I had been front-and-center, it might have had a better balance. It was pretty low-end, but nevertheless it was still enjoyable. Dave might drive me crazy in a different context, but in addition to showing off his chops, he seemed like he was eager to thrown in some noisy riffs too which made sure there was a lot of life it in, not just technical stuff.

Speaking of Pittsburgh missing out on stuff, I ended up talking to a guy who seemed to be all down on our town, and brushed off any positive things I had to say about it:

Pittsburgh never gets good acts.
But Ernest Dawkins, a great Chicago sax player, in coming to the Thunderbird this month.
Yeah, but the Thunderbird's a shithole.
Um - what?!
Anthony Braxton played at the Craftmen's Guild but tickets were really expensive.
But it's Anthony Braxton! How often does he come here? (Further, I checked the archives, and tickets were $20 for a septet that included Mary Halvorson and Jessica Pavone. Ever check the typical ticket prices at MCG?)
Upon mentioning pianist Misha Mengelberg, I told him that he too came to Pittsburgh FOR A FREE SHOW with the ICP Orchestra less than 10 years ago. And ICP was just here again, without Mengelberg. But by that point, he seemed to be tuning out what I was saying.

I'll end this post on a positive note: Last night at the Space Exchange series at the Thunderbird Cafe (you know, that alleged shithole), bassist Paul Thompson led a group through two amazing sets of music from James Bond films. Ben Opie (saxophones), Ian Gordon (trumpet), Chris Parker (guitar) and Tom Wendt (drums) joined Thompson in arrangements that largely came from Paul's ear, which he used to transcribe them.

Paul - you need to bring this band back again!

A Good Day for Records

Playing right now: Wayne Horvitz/Butch Morris/Robert Previte - Nine Below Zero

Yesterday I finally made it over to Galaxie Electronics, which is in the same building as Jerry's Records. The needle on our turntable gave up the ghost about 10 days ago, but I wasn't able to get to Galaxie until then. Donovan was not happy about being there, not in the least. On the way out, we crossed paths with the gal from Jerry's who handles his auctions. Two days earlier, a jazz auction had ended and I bid on a bunch of things. She suggested I come into the store to get them now, and Donovan agreed once he heard there were Dum Dum Suckers involved.

I had bid on a few albums on the Sound Aspects label, which put out a lot of interesting stuff in the '80s, like Bobby Previte's Bump the Renaissance (which was in the auction). The album I'm listening to right now, along with another one where the same group does Robin Holcomb pieces, were in my win pile, along with an album by the Paul Smoker Trio. I only know of that one from the inner sleeve of Bump but figured I'd take a chance.

But the mother lode of the afternoon was an original Rip, Rig and Panic by Roland Kirk! I couldn't believe it. An original Limelight with the booklet inside and the sort of 3D/die cut graphic, which the booklet explains was designed for "the visual enjoyment of the discriminating record buyer." That's me, alright.

If that wasn't exciting enough, I came home to find a reissue of Giuseppi Logan's second ESP album, More, waiting in the mailbox.

CD Review: Byron Allen Trio

The Byron Allen Trio
(ESP) www.espdisk.com

Upon discovering the ESP catalog during high school via the Base label reissues, and the occasional original pressing that popped up in a used bin, one thing that added to the intrigue was the list of other releases that appeared on the back covers, complete with a little description. Someday I might break down and bid on a copy of The Coach with Six Insides, a musical adaptation of James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake. And despite one former ESP artist telling me that I should avoid it, I would still like to hear the label's first release, Ni Kantu en Esperanto.

The Byron Allen Trio's self-titled album was one such album listed on the back of The Fugs First Album, and it stated that the alto-playing leader had been described as "the spiritual descendant of Charlie Parker." It's an odd descriptor considering that everyone who picked up an alto from Cannonball Adderley on down could be considered a descendant of Bird. But...


UPDATE, JULY 5, 2013: I hate to do this if you're reading this review for the first time, but JazzTimes assigned me to review this album after I originally posted this entry. So I'm taking down the proper review because I can't have it running in both places. Look for it reviewed in tandem with Giuseppi Logan in an issue of JazzTimes perhaps at the end of the summer. Support print media, especially jazz print media. I'll leave you with the final paragraph, which has some of Allen's background.

So the story goes, Allen only released one more album after this one, a good 15 years after his debut. Like pianist Lowell Davidson, who was also brought to ESP by Ornette Coleman, Allen disappeared after that. Google searches of his name lead back to ESP (which offers no current whereabouts) or to the comedian of the same name. But while Davidson pursued a career in chemistry and died after an accident, maybe there is a chance that Allen might still be out there. That would be a good thing, because this album is strong addition to the ESP catalog, and puts Allen up there with Marion Brown and Sonny Simmons on the list of powerful alto saxophonists.

CD Review: Mara Rosenbloom Quartet - Songs from the Ground

While in Ohio over the weekend, I didn't have internet access and I wasn't the writing fiend I had hoped to be. But I did bang out one review and have motivation to continue tomorrow morning (my prime writing time). In the meantime...

Mara Rosenbloom Quartet

Songs from the Ground

(Fresh Sound New Talent) www.mararosenbloom.com

With alto saxophonist Darius Jones as the sole horn in her quartet, pianist Mara Rosenbloom made a clever choice. Although he usually swings a bit more to the left in his own free music, Jones plays in a more straightforward manner here, yet his crisp, tart tone is a good contrast to Rosenbloom’s more tranquil, meditative playing. Born in Madison, WI, her music does bear a sense of reflection for that serenity of her Middle American environment, and Jones adds to that — serving as a reminder that she’s now based in New York City.

After a brief solo exposition, Rosenbloom leads the quartet (with bassist Sean Conly and drummer Nick Anderson) into the mid-tempo 7/4 groove of “Whistle Stop.” It reveals both the strengths and weaknesses of the band. On the positive side, the sweet, upper-register piano melody gains a bit of edge when Jones takes it from Rosenbloom. His two solos feature some pungent, low register jumps and growls that kick up the energy a notch. On the minus side, the theme is based on a riff gets repetitive quickly and takes too long to resolve into another section for contrast.

“Unison” maintains the subdued mood, but adds a few harmonic twists. Beginning with a piano riff that sounds like a slowed-down hard bop groove, it moves into a different setting for solos, in which Rosenbloom rises from spare, thoughtful notes into a full bloom. Jones starts simple with some grooves, but gets a little push from the rhythm section to take it up a notch. Even when he limits himself to long tones or buzzing notes in the closing, he pulls out the ones that contrast appropriately with the changes. Conly gets a brief solo of double-stops too.

Rosenbloom lets the quartet stretch out on her pieces, and four of the seven tracks on Songs From the Ground last around 10 minutes, with the title track going beyond the 15-minute mark. But in a number of cases they seem to casually roll along rather than use the time to get somewhere. “Common Language” moves slowly on gospel-tinged piano riff without much drive underneath. Likewise the title track, the longest one of the bunch, devotes too much time to its extended theme. While Anderson does try to kick up a little dust during this tune, he and Conly are predominantly relegated to supporting Rosenbloom and Jones, instead of interacting with them. Considering Conly’s affiliation with Jones in the wild Grass Roots quartet (who released an album on AUM Fidelity last year) it’s surprising that they don’t have more of a push-and-pull rapport going on here. Rosenbloom is a thoughtful pianist whose melodies can be evocative, but her work seems to missing some elements on the follow-through.

Friday in the heat

It's Friday and now that we're grilling out each week at work, I don't have to be there until noon. That means there's a few minutes to get on here before getting off to work.

Just got off the phone with Eleanor Friedberger for a talk that will wind up in Pittsburgh City Paper to plug her show at the end of June. She was nice but kind of hard to hear because her phone was so quiet. It didn't help that the p.r. person kept picking up an extension towards the end of my allotted 15 minutes. I was tempted to keep going with some questions but that maneuver psyched me out a bit. But Eleanor got in a lot of good quotes and information within that time frame. Her new album, Personal Record, is out next Tuesday.

Earlier this week, I turned in a feature to CP about the Pittsburgh Jazz Festival, which leaned heavily on Rudresh Mahanthappa, my intention. Then, I also got an assignment to talk to Chicago saxophonist Ernest Dawkins, who's here a few days before Friedberger. If that wasn't enough, I got the CP feature on Belle & Sebastian for their big show next month. I'm not wigging out over all that hanging over my head yet. I'm trying to take on more responsibility and manage everything like that, so there won't be any freaking out.

Over the weekend, we're going to Ohio to visit family, and staying in a hotel room there. I'm hoping to take the laptop and maybe, just maybe start posting some reviews of albums here. For now, I have to do some research on where to get a new needle for our turntable.

Here's B.A.L.L. And I'm sick

This week I came down with a case of laryngitis for the first time since grade school. It was kind of cool at first, until I realized that I really couldn't communicate with anyone. I left work early on Wednesday, went to MedExpress (the convenience store of medical help) and stayed home yesterday, not talking at all until about 3 o'clock. Today I'm back to work at noon.

In a few minutes I hopefully will be transcribing interviews done for a preview of the Pittsburgh Jazz Live Festival that's happening in a few weekends.

But most importanly..................here it comes...........THE B.A.L.L. ARTICLE IS UP ON THE BLURT WEBSITE! Check it out. I wrote really long, thinking that Fred would pare it down but it's all there. I must say I'm rather proud of it.

If anyone reading this decides to and see B.A.L.L. tomorrow night in New York, please post comments here about how it was. I wish I could be there

Vanderslice Vinyl Arrives

John Vanderslice's new albums came in the mail on Thursday! I didn't know they were here until yesterday morning, by which point I was getting ready for Take Your Father To School Day, so I hate to wait all day to  listen to them. Dagger Beach is Vanderslice's official new album, which he released himself. The money to do that came from a Kickstarter campaign that I donated to. One of the thank-you packages was the chance to get Dagger Beach on vinyl, along with another record, John Vanderslice Plays Diamond Dogs. So I just had to donate enough to get them. And they're both autographed, not that I seek that out but it's cool.

Both albums were really great on the first listen. I'm really happy that he included a lyric sheet with Dagger Beach because when I don't have one there, I feel like I'm missing out on some important plot line in the lyrics. His last two albums didn't have one.

What was even more exciting was the following post-it note was attached to one of the album covers:

B.A.L.L. is coming!

Something's bugging me. Not sure what, so I made a drink and decided I better write a little. I can't just do CD reviews and nothing else. I'm not producing enough copy to do that.

I never wrote that I interviewed both Kramer and Don Fleming last week. Not together but within an hour of each other. B.A.L.L. is having a reunion show in New York at the end of the month and when I mentioned it to my editor he said, "We've got to have a story on this." So naturally I had to be the one to write about it. If you saw my review of Kramer's recent Brill Building album, you know how I feel about B.A.L.L. And any chance to talk to Kramer is always a good time. We talked about all kinds of stuff. What a nut. A lovable nut, that is.

I pulled out a couple of the old B.A.L.L. records. Period (Another American Lie) might be the best one. Bird has the greatest album cover homage:

But it doesn't come close to their live show which was sooooooooooooo over the top.