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.

CD Review: Thiefs

Thiefs
(Melanine Harmonique Recordings)

The TV on the Radio of experimental jazz? A transplant of 1968-era Soft Machine into 2013? Thiefs (they meant to spell it incorrectly) can put those thoughts in your head while listening to their debut album. At least they put them in mine.

One of the reasons TVOtR has endeared themselves to me relates to the way that they don't sound like anything else I've heard, combining all kinds of disparate musical elements together without inhibition. Thiefs have that same fearless quality. With former David S. Ware drummer Guillermo E. Brown in a band, it gives you certain expectations, which he and his triomates (saxophonist Christophe Panzani, bassist Keith Witty) turn on its ear. Brown likes to groove here, in some cases limiting himself to just snare and kick drum with a little hi-hat, and showing restraint ("The Actual Neef"). The album's opening sounds come from effects-heavy samples (all three are credited with "electronics" in addition to their instruments), to which Brown gradually adds real drums. This track, "Doute/s" is one of two cuts recorded live at New York's Jazz Gallery, without any post-performance additions.

Further, Brown sings on a few tracks, with a strong voice that does sometimes sound like TVOtR's Tunde Adebimpe, strong in delivery and giving shape to something that seems a little loose. Melodically, though he also sounds a bit like Robert Wyatt from later in his solo career. He once sang in a neo-soul/no wave group called Pegasus Warning, which explains how he's able to take a traditional delivery and toy with it.

Although Thiefs are all about setting a scene, Panzani's playing makes sure the music doesn't satisfy itself with endless riffs or loops. On tenor primarily with occasional soprano, his solos add deeper perspective to the music. Panzani occasionally runs his horn through wah-wah effects, which is where the Soft Machine comparison comes in. It recalls Mike Ratledge's keyboard sound when he used wah-wah but before he started using his signature fuzz (heard on their Volume Two album). This sound warps "Daybaby" even further, a song that combines a soul ballad, an arty melody and a lyric inspired by the impending birth of a child. Any of those elements could run the risk of flying way off track but Thieves make it work.

Bassist Keith Witty adds a significant element to the mix, sonically. While it's easy to imagine a fretless bass guitar sliding all over the music, Witty sticks to an upright, which keeps the music on organic ground whether the jazz quality of their set is in full force or a trip-hop style takes over. Speaking of which, "Sans Titre (huile sur toile)" starts off like dub, with guest accordion player Vincent Peirani, magnifying that aspect of it before the coda goes off into double-time with everyone being just a touch out of sync with one another, although they still move as a unit.

With all the talk that goes on about making jazz contemporary in order to appeal to non-jazz fans, the thing that always seems to get sacrificed first is the edge, found in melodies or in the "blowing" sections, which get reduced to something that's heard as the fade-out begins. That doesn't happen with Thieves. As a perfect example, "The World Without Us" also sounds like a smooth ballad, complete with gentle Brown vocals. But even with electric piano (from guest Shoko Nagal) underscoring a gentle scene and Panzani playing soprano, the saxophonist still fits in a provoking, somewhat biting solo. And they follow it with "TWWU (postlude)" which only lasts two minutes, but it's a dark, ominous two minutes, where Brown makes my Adebimpe comparison a little more credible. This is accessible and thought-provoking.

CD Review: Nicole Mitchell's Ice Crystal - Aquarius

Nicole Mitchell's Ice Crystal
Aquarius
(Delmark)

On one hand, it doesn't seem right to hear a band with a flute-and-vibes instrumentation and immediately compare it to the collaborations of Eric Dolphy and Bobby Hutcherson. The latter two are great artists to evoke, but it feels like it goes for the easy description. Then again, Aquarius does just that on the back cover, amending it by saying the album gives the reference "a Chicago twist." So it's not just me.

Flutist Nicole Mitchell has written for a number of bands over the last several years, including a string quartet, a project inspired by modern science fiction with intense vocals (that worked where others failed) and smaller groups. Aquarius, she says, is the first album in a while where she simply wrote tunes without an overarching concept, and as such it comes off like more of a straight ahead band with themes and solos - albeit ones that avoid anything standard in that situation.

Jason Adasiewicz provides the vibes, and even he seems to be approaching his instrument a little differently than usual. Known for leaning on the sustain pedal and letting harmonies spill into each other, he keeps it dry on several of the album's early tracks, providing strong punctuation with metallic clunks. There are other moments too where he uses his instrument for dreamy textures, like "Today, Today" and "Above the Sky," using the sustain.

Joshua Abrams (bass) has worked on several of Mitchell's albums and it's clear why he's her bassist of choice. Even when her writing doesn't follow a straightforward pattern, he manages to find a way to doing so solid walking behind her and Adasiewicz. His bowing on the title track sounds especially compelling, pulling out heavy double-stops, screeches and rapid lines. During that section, Frank Rosaly's percussive noises sneak up in the background, and it can be hard to tell if it's him or some noise in the next room is blending in appropriately with the disc. But that's Rosaly's skill in all of his projects, which is on display throughout the album, adding a solid backbeat to "Sunday Afternoon" or acting more pointillistic in "Diga Diga." Both situations make a strong performance.

Mitchell, who relocated to California a year or two ago, still has an excellent rapport with her Chicago compatriots. Her writing feels infectious from the opening notes of "Aqua Blue" until the closing "Fred Anderson," which features Calvin Gantt doing a spoken word homage to the title subject, the saxophonist/club owner/overall guru of Chicago, who passed away in 2010. (It works because the words are direct and straightforward without getting flowery.) Aquarius may be an album of unrelated tunes, but each has a distinct personality, shifting gears after the previous one, resulting in a consistent set. While the first half gets into more free territory, with some muscular flute exclamations in the extended "Aquarius," the second half feels a little more in the pocket, while maintaining the same level of action the whole time. Mitchell talks in the liner notes about all the Chicago touchstones that have shaped her (not the least of which is tenure in the AACM). It's clear that sense of musical adventure is still part of her musical DNA.

Record Store Day 2013

For people like me, every day is Record Store Day. The idea of darkening the doorway of the neighborhood record shop (and there is one in my 'hood too) always seems appealing to me, so in some ways I should be dismissing the annual day with a brush of the hand. But yesterday I did sort of buy into it - but only perhaps because the timing worked with my life. The Attic, a record store across the river in Millvale (i.e. about eight minutes from my house when there's no traffic) opened at midnight, like they've done for at least the past few years. In 2011, I went there at midnight and got wigged out by the claustrophobia. It's narrow enough on a slow day. So this year, I decided to get up early (as I usually do anyway) and get there a little before 7 a.m., since it would either be dead or close to dead. I was right. 

The item that interested me was a live Art Blakey record that I think had the Jazz Messengers lineup with Lee Morgan and Wayne Shorter. Turns out, it wasn't pressed in time for RSD. On the jazz front, though, there were some 10" reissues of Fantasy EPs from the '50s, and I picked up this Cal Tjader release.

It's a pretty cool blend of all of Tjader's instruments - vibes (for which he's probably best known), drums (which his plays with an amazing amount of weight) and bongos (same as drums). The other guys in the trio play bass and drums, so with eight songs, there's a lot of variety. There were reissues of Miles Davis albums on Columbia, but it's stuff I already have in some format.

The next find was Destroyer's first album on Merge, which came out on vinyl for the first time yesterday.

Destroyer albums are all very strange to me. Strange and appealing. I don't have all of them, but I do own several. So far, this might be my favorite. It has that ethereal quality to it, but it also rocks, which is not something I always get from ol' Dan Bejar. Plus, the lyrics are amazing.

As far as singles go, there was a piece of cardboard next to the box of 7"s that read "Husker Du," so I knew I missed out something. (I later found out that it was a re-release of their first single, which I'm mixed on anyhow.) A box of Ringo Starr's biggest singles seemed like one of the stranger entries in the RSD canon. (To whom is THAT geared?) But the one thing that gave me the "I should get this" feeling was Sharon Van Etten's "We Are Fine."

The song appeared on the Tramp album but it has an unreleased B-side. I have to revisit that song a couple more times because I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.

If I had been super-flush with cash, I might have picked up the reissue of Half Japanese's 1/2 Gentlemen Not Beasts which is now a FOUR-record set, instead of the initial three records. But then again, I have two of the more rock Half Japanese albums that I haven't played in close to 20 years, but can't part with them either. There was also a used copy of the Miles Davis '60s box (CD not vinyl) that I feel like I should've grabbed because used stuff was discounted too. But right now, I'm up to my ears in a Duke Ellington Mosaic box that I borrowed from the library, so I decided to wait.

Conclusion: Three records, three different formats. Good times. Then I headed to work. On the way, I drove past Sound Cat, which had a line out onto the sidewalk before 8 a.m.

CD Review: Steve Coleman and Five Elements - Functional Arrhythmias

Steve Coleman & Five Elements
Functional Arrhythmias
(Pi) www.pirecordings.com

None of Steve Coleman's recent albums really qualify as casual listening. Listening to the alto saxophonist's sometimes rigid blend of a deceptively static rhythm section and tightly wound alto and trumpet melodies can really get under your skin. At other times, it sounds like off-kilter funk that can groove.

Functional Arrhythmias takes a departure from Coleman's The Mancy of Sound, which Pi released in 2011. Where that album featured two drummers and a percussionist setting up a tricky interplay, this time  Five Elements veteran Sean Rickman is the only drummer. Bassist Anthony Tidd, who like Rickman played in the band over 15 years ago, also returns to the fold, thus ensuring the group has a tight rhythm section to maneuver Coleman's writing. The frontline is pared down as well to just Coleman and trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson, after a few albums that added Tim Albright's trombone and Jen Shyu's voice, which was used as an instrument, as opposed to working as a vocalist. Five of the fourteen tracks add guitarist Miles Okazaki, who bridges the gap between Tidd's basslines and the horns.

On top of the instrumentation, there's the underlying concept of the album, which is inspired by the way the body's circulatory, nervous and respiratory operate. Percussionist Milford Graves studied the connection between these function and music, according to Coleman's liner notes, and it inspired the saxophonist to explore it in music. A concept like this can be something that sounds fascinating on paper but dry and mathematical in execution. Coleman has avoided that pitfall by making music that is challenging at times, grates at times, but keeps you listening. Only one track comes close to hitting the seven-minute mark, while most of them average about four minutes. In doing this, Coleman seems to realize that there are a lot of different angles to explore when approaching the concept, and he knows how to keep them compelling. "Cardiovascular" present a good example of the rhythm section's challenge: most of the time they repeat a waltz ostinato, rigidly locked into the riff, but every so often another beat (or is it two?) get thrown in, representing the arrhythmia and making your ear do a double-take. In "Irregular Heartbeats" Okazaki doubles up the bass melody which also keeps shifting the number of beats. "Adrenal, Got Ghost" changes things around, almost sounding like fusion funk, complete with cowbell, while Rickman plays "Cerebrum Crossover" on rims and woodblocks.

The rapport between Coleman and Finlayson sounds so tight that they almost sound like twin heads of one horn on "Sinews." Everything is executed with the most amazing, precise clarity. As the album opener, this piece is also the loosest, with a stop-start funk groove and a solo by Coleman that gets kicks off with some slippery blues feeling. While the two horns are cohesive, many of the tracks also require them to fire off their melodies with quick, staccato delivery, which is when they get a little unsettling. Especially when they're spitting out melodies in asymmetrical groups of notes, it can sound more like exercises, or prog-rock. But for every moment like that, they come back with "Limbic Cry" where they recall Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry having some deep conversation. Rather than brush it aside, it makes you want to listen in and figure out what Coleman and Finlayson are discussing.

CD Review: Dave Douglas Quintet- Time Travel

(NOTE: SINCE THIS POST HAS RECEIVED 48 SPAM COMMENTS IN THE MONTH SINCE IT'S BEEN POSTED, COMMENTS HAVE BEEN DISMANTLED)

Dave Douglas Quintet
Time Travel
(Greenleaf) www.greenleafmusic.com

Dave Douglas turns 50 this year, and that milestone seems to bring with it a state of reflection. The title of the trumpeter's latest album, on his own Greenleaf imprint, could reflect a desire to toy with the time signatures in his music, or it could be a way to look back at where he's been over these last five decades. Both ideas seem to filter into the quintet's performance to some degree, yet to call this a concept album would seem to be pushing the issue. Any modern jazz musician worth their salt will always have some sense of the past and the future, with a group of like-minded support players to give it the enthusiastic push.

Having said that, "Bridge to Nowhere" launches the album with a vamp that sounds like a hard bop idea that was discovered in an early 1960s session at Van Gelder's. Before it can turn into something closer to "Well You Needn't" this driving number takes on an elliptical form. Douglas builds in intensity, as does tenor saxophonist Jon Irabagon, who starts with shorter lines that he keeps extending, getting fire from drummer Rudy Royston. Pianist Matt Mitchell (heard last year on Tim Berne's Snake Oil) also turns in an impressive solo full of fast lines, which do go somewhere. A similar speed and clarity marks "Garden State" which effectively recreates the intensity of Douglas' home of New Jersey, where dodging and speeding seem to be the standard rules of the day. "Beware of Doug" is also uptempo, with a somewhat lighthearted bounce to it, and it gives bassist Linda Oh a chance to unleash an astounding fleet-fingered solo.

Time Travel also has some pensive moments. "Law of Historical Memory" (named for a six-year-old Spanish law regarding the Franco dictatorship and receiving justice from it) has Mitchell rolling out steady eighth notes as Douglas and Irabagon play longer, brooding lines on top of it. "Little Feet" also sounds more contemplative at first, but it still gives Douglas a chance to go a little wild, wailing into the upper register of his horn.

This same quintet, along with vocalist Aiofe O'Donovan, released the album Be Still last year, to much critical acclaim. Having your own label means not having to wait too long between releases to follow up on your accomplishments. But Time Travel should not be mistaken for a quick followup that Douglas put out just because he can. Without even considering the last disc, this is a fully realized, engaging work that stands as a worthy document by someone who should continue to be productive in his second half-century of performances.

Blurt update, end of the week

Playing right now: Michael Gallant Trio - Completely

The week of vacation is over. Big plans were envisioned: cleaning up the crates of classical albums; finding some stuff to auction; alphabetizing - or at least organizing - the CDs that I put in the new rack a year ago; and listening.......yes, doing A LOT of listening to the discs that have been arriving. Hell, I might've even made plans to weed through email about releases.

So how did it go?

Monday, Tuesday and especially Wednesday, I was knocked out by illness. On Wednesday, all I wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep, without even listening to any music. The thought of any music annoyed me. I was in bed until about 6:30 that night. Tuesday night was the Mike Nesmith show. I suffered through a badly running nose to make it to the show. Figured a bunch of orange juice before the show and a dozen wings after would help me get through what usually feels like the final stage of a cold. But the next morning I had a 100-degree temperature.

Thursday I started to feel like myself, and then Donovan started getting sick and he stayed home the next day. Luckily Jennie was sweet enough to stay home too, and I got some work done. But the grand total of time to myself to get my thoughts and surroundings in order - one day.

In other news, don't follow any of the links in previous posts to the Blurt website. Since the site was severely hacked with malware, everything is moving to a slighly different site (new web address: www.blurtonline.com, no hyphen between words like the old one) and these links won't work. All the old stuff isn't up yet either, so it's not worth exploring yet anyway. However, my Mike Nesmith Q&A IS supposed to be posted tomorrow on the new site. That link should work.

Last night the Love Letters played at my fabled neighboring watering hole, Gooski's. It was sort of a special show because we were joined by Spaz, who was my bandmate in Paul Lynde 451, a local punk drag band in the early '00s. We did six PL451 songs, which sounded really great. For a noisy pop band, the Love Letters are a good punk band. But, as what seems to be more and more usual, we had a pretty sparse turnout. Not what I needed after a disappointing week. I did appreciate the folks who did come out though.

Playing with Musical Matches

I had an April Fools joke up my sleeve yesterday, that I've actually been sitting on for a year or two. The day before Donovan was born six years ago, Harp was still in existence and Fred fooled a lot of people into believing that Captain Beefheart had come out of retirement and was agreeing to tour. Pretty brilliant trick, it was, and not at all clear as a joke until you got to the photo credit, which read "A.P. Rilfool." Now every year, I think that I should do something along the lines of that trick. My idea isn't as wide ranging, but maybe I'll get it together next year. I had to write a couple reviews yesterday and by the time I had a moment for the joke, it felt too late in the day.

File this under "You Should Have Known Better": At the record fair that I mentioned in the last post, I picked up a copy of Chicago Transit Authority which a friend of mine had for $1. I recall moments on that album (I checked it out of the library when I was about 10) that were a little edgy, which a good friend has confirmed. "Free Form Guitar" consists of seven minutes of guitar feedback, going for a sort of homage to Jimi Hendrix. Then a few years ago, I heard the beginning of another song from the album (missed the title) that almost sounded like a Stooges riff, with fuzzy bass. Therefore, I've maintained a "one of these day, I'll check it out again" feeling about it.

Well I was right about "Free Form Guitar." Pretty noisy and good. It's followed by the mystery song, "South California Purples," which has a bass-line similar to "Dirt" but the comparison ends there. Once the horns kick in with all that bwah bwah bwaaaaah it looses something. Side Four begins with a recording made at the 1968 Democratic Convention (you know, the one w/all the rioting) and the chant "The whole world's watching" segues into the bassline of the next song ... which bottoms out when Peter Cetera starts singing. If he had only stuck with bass and kept his mouth shut, things would've been great because his basslines are pretty heavy.

I don't have a problem with a limited amount of Chicago's early stuff beyond that album. So when I was at the folks' house for Easter Sunday, I remembered that we once had a copy of Chicago II with one record missing. I think I bought it at a flea market and was bummed that the lost LP had "25 or 6 to 4" on it. But it does have "Make Me Smile," which has sounded pretty good recently when it's come on at work. When you're up close and personal with that song, it still sounds pretty flaccid, drum breaks aside. Not only that, it's part of a side-long suite, "Ballad of a Girl from Buchannon," which my bandmate/Buckhannon, WV native Aimee informed me, is spelled wrong. The final chorus of "Make Me Smile" doesn't actually come until the end of the side, after it's gone through a few more instrumental, Maynard-Ferguson-meets-prog sections, past "Colour My World" into the last chorus and a closing that sounds like some t.v. show theme.

Like I said, I should've known better. I'm kind of curious to hear the other side of the record, but not too curious.

Can't Think of a Title for a Return after several weeks of no posts

Damn, I know I've been away from here for awhile, but I had no idea it's been about a month! It figures that a burst of activity is followed by a burst of INactivity. But I was keeping sort of busy writing in other places. Both Mike Nesmith and the ICP Orchestra are coming to town in another 10 days or so, and I wrote about them for Pittsburgh City Paper (coming in next week's issue). There were a bunch of JazzTimes reviews too, including Pat Metheny's latest, which is something fairly out of character for me.

And then there's Blurt. Poor ol' Blurt. Something always seems to happen to happen to Fred and co., right around the time of South by Southwest. A few years ago it was the demise of Blurt's forerunner, Harp. This time the website got pretty badly hacked and infected with malware. The process is underway to get it cleaned up, luckily.

Last week the Pittsburgh Record Fair happened at Belvedere's. I didn't sell this time because I didn't feel like hauling all those crates of albums again. I bought a few things, nothing over $5 either. One of the happiest purchases of the night was a copy of School's Out by Alice Cooper. This was an album I owned from about second grade on. I think I got it for Christmas that year and I pretty much wore it out. I do remember that the desk part of the cover got a little ripped. Eventually I think it wound up in the giveaway box at the Record Recycler some time around 8th grade. The copy I got was almost the same as the one from back then. It didn't have the song titles on the back (my first copy did) and it didn't have the panties (luckily, my first didn't either). But the cover was in beautiful shape and it had the olive green Warner Brothers label, which always makes the heart beat faster. I still know every single note to that album. If I had a dollar for every time that me and my friend Eric put on the 55-second "Street Fight" and pretended to fight in my basement.... I'd be doing pretty well.

CD Review: Kramer - The Brill Building

Kramer
The Brill Building
(Tzadik) www.tzadik.com

This review is going to include a lot of me, at least in the beginning. You see, Kramer and I go back a long way. Not personally, though there is personal business involved too. But back around 1990, Kramer was it. He had one of the greatest bands in the world (Bongwater). He had a label that kept churning out all kinds of weird records (Shimmy-Disc), some of which were awesome, some weren't, but all were worth exploring, especially if you worked at a college radio station. On top of all that, he played bass, through a fuzz pedal, no less. He was doing things that I dreamed of doing.

In the fall of '89, I went to my first CMJ Music Marathon, and saw his other concurrent band B.A.L.L. Until I saw Bongwater a year and a half later, this was one of the most amazing, almost-falling-apart acts I had ever seen. The set began with Kramer running some cheapo cassette player through the p.a. with some strange music on it, and taking balloons from a garbage bag and throwing them into the audience. While all this was going on, guitarist Don Fleming stood there yelling, "PAPERBACK WRITER!" When they kicked into the music, they rocked really hard too. Every few songs, Kramer shot silly string into the audience. He also took an American flag and duct-taped it to the back wall, upside-down and haphazardly. (This was during the era of laws over flag-burning.) The band's energy and focus floored me. But it was too good to last. After about 15 minutes, Fleming's amp stack fell over and broke, so the set ended abruptly. Disappointing at the time, it almost seems vaguely appropriate.

Two of my bands ended up recording at Kramer's Noise New Jersey studio a few years later. Bone of Contention made an album over Memorial Day weekend in 1995 and two years earlier the Pundits drove up for a weekend to record three songs on a Sunday, which Kramer mixed that night before we split. It had always been my dream to have him produce BoC, though by the time we got up there, he was moving away from the gauzy sound of the Bongwater and Galaxie 500 albums towards something else. Still, it was a good time and I even got him to add an extra bass part to one of our songs that I had envisioned to be a little B.A.L.L.-ish. (Kramer, if you're reading this, I didn't tell you that at the time because I felt to inhibited. Didn't want to get on your bad side.)

When Kramer released the three-record opus The Guilt Trip in 1993, I was psyched. Not only was it gigantic, it sounded great, with all kinds of different stylings going on. But after one great album with Daevid Allen (Who's Afraid, which I come back to about every six months), the Shimmy-Disc outpouring seemed to slow down and didn't slay me as much.

Out of nowhere, Blurt's Fred Mills wrote a piece about Kramer's first new album in ages. Brill Building pays tribute to the songwriters who worked in that storied locale in New York (where my sister works now, though not as a songwriter) by covering 10 of them. I had to have it.

The album is marked by a lot of vintage Kramer stylings, specifically the use of sampled recordings before, after and sometimes during the songs. By 2013 standards, this is nothing new, but he was doing this on Bongwater records and it actually goes back to his days with Shockabilly (who were to classic rock what Spike Jones was to '40s music; why I'm the only person to say that, I'll never know). Sometimes they seem to be voices that randomly were chosen to go there, other times, there might be some political charge to it that gives the song a little more depth. Some of the ones on this album seem to have a continuing theme related to the '60s: Lyndon Johnson paying tribute to John Kennedy while signing the Civil Rights Bill; newscasters talking about Jack Ruby, presumably after he shot Lee Harvey Oswald.

Without even considering that he worked on it for seven years, it's clear that Kramer has a fondness for these songs and put care into this production. (His last few outings seemed to be not much more than simple jams with layers of overdubs piled onto them. A previous Beatles cover also a little lazy when he messed up lyric order.) The album begins with the creepy "He Hit Me" (whose title omits the "...and It Felt Like a Kiss"), but the slow tempo and sea of keyboards seem to make a statement on the unsavory message of the song. Brill Building also has extensive liner notes by Kramer where he analyzes that song and its meaning, not to mention the whole milieu of the Brill Building and the connection with Lower East Side poets like the Fugs. That alone is fascinating in and of itself, and not just because the layout makes it a challenge to read.

Kramer once described his take on covers as being something like part tribute and part lampoon, and that feeling comes across in several tracks. "Do Wah Diddy Diddy" finds him channeling an old Jewish grandfather while mumbling that insipid title. (Or maybe he's invoking Jack Mundurian, the novelty singer that he sampled on The Guilt Trip). In the "I knew we were falling in love" section, he shifts gears and belts it out like a rocker, which hams up the whole thing and makes you appreciate the whole thing. The fuzzed out electro-clash version of "I Want Candy" might be a bit much but the spastic version of "Save the Last Dance For Me" - which features R. Stevie Moore singing, drumming and playing way off-key guitar - is right on the money.

While several of tunes are fairly faithful and play it fairly safe, nearly half of the album successfully takes the songs where they've never gone before. For starters, there's a country-and-western take on "Spanish Harlem," complete with Johnny Cash-style guitar strums and some horse neighs. "On Broadway" gives us guest vocalist Jad Fair at his most soulful and guest pianist Mike Jones doing some busy but boppish piano fills. Neil Diamond's "Cherry Cherry" gets translated into Spanish and rearranged to sound almost like "Guantanamera," at least when the Sandpipers did it. That's not a put-down either. This is beautiful.

After what seems like a long time away from the limelight, this album signals that Kramer still has the creative juices flowing. The guest vocalists (which also includes Danielson's Daniel C. Smith on "Paradise) offer variety that evokes the groups that sang Brill Building songs. Yet Kramer himself is in extremely fine form whether he's goofing or making like a straight crooner on "Baby It's You" and "I Love How You Love Me." Which has me thinking, next time out, maybe he ought to take on the Great American Songbook. Kramer, you getting this down? It could be another chapter in the Great American Jewish series for ol' Zorn.

Suzanne Vega, Ethnic Heritage Ensemble, One Night

Monday was a great night for music. The evening started at Club Cafe where Suzanne Vega was playing two shows. I attended the first show, at 6:30, where I felt like one of the younger people in the audience, something I haven't felt in a long time.

Some people might be surprised to hear this but I really like Suzanne Vega's music. In fact, I should say that I love it. She has a beautiful voice, very calming and spellbinding at the same time. She is a great storyteller, which I'm reminded of every time I hear some mediocre "singer-songwriter" type banging on an acoustic guitar and trying to make a statement. And now it's clear that she has an impeccable stage presence, telling stories between songs that are charming and amusing, and playing songs that close to 30 years old like they're brand new.

All of this was on display in the opening minutes of the show when she and guitarist Gerry Leonard got onstage. Vega casually donned a top hat, which she flipped into shape before she introduced "Marlene on the Wall." That song alone is filled with all her attributes: great lyrics, great story and a key change in the chorus that grabs your ear without letting you think about it as it amps up the beauty of the whole thing.

Her song selection incorporated all of her albums, and then some. She has recently released a series of albums called Close-Up in which she's re-recorded her back catalog acoustically, grouping the songs by theme over the four volumes. The reasoning wasn't explained, but knowing the state of record labels (most of her albums were on A&M) it could have something to do with getting the songs back out there. Since she's still writing songs, anything else might be a bit dubious.

Mid-set she played a few new songs in a row. Tentatively titled "Fool's Complaint," this first one had a verse that sounded exactly like "When Heroes Go Down," and had what seemed like a clunky opening line for someone like Suzanne ("I really hate the Queen of Cups."). "I Never Wear White" also seemed a little basic with a second line like "I wear black." At the same time, she has a unique way of giving a line like that some gravity, whereas anyone who came after her might sound like a hack. Leonard gave the song a heavy rock riff, with his arsenal of effects pedals that added bass tones throughout the set and looped chords so he could play some leads. This made "Blood Makes Noise" as creepy as the studio version, especially when Vega's voice added some reverb and delay.

As hoped, the show was over in enough time to get down to the Thunderbird Cafe to see the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble. Leader Kahil El'Zabar has been here several times over the past few years with a few different groups, including one with baritone saxophonist Hamiett Blueitt. This trio is possibly the most remarkable, especially since it consists only of him, trumpeter Corey Wilkes and saxophonist Ernest Dawkins.

El'Zabar might do a similar thing each time he comes - one tune on kalimba, one on trap kit, one on conga - but hearing him is like listening to an album you really like. It's always enjoyable. And even if his vocalizing might be similar to Keith Jarrett's noises during his solo, everything else makes this music infectious. "Black is Back" opened with a hypnotic finger piano groove which the horns built upon. Dawkins, on alto, sounded especially sharp, quoting "Wade in the Water" toward the end of a bristling solo. It's no surprise he was laughing with excitement as the tune wound up, with all three of them whispering the title.

If Clifford Brown was still around and he took inspiration from Lester Bowie, he might sound like Corey Wilkes. The second, untitled piece of the first set (with El'Zabar on drums, playing tempo and  a melodic undercurrent) featured Wilkes showing off his bright tone and wild intervallic leaps, occasionally putting the bell of his horn right on the microphone for emphasis.

Bands like the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble, like the Art Ensemble of Chicago before them (a few of whom played with El'Zabar), will tip their hat to the past without ever forgetting that they're a band of modern times. As an example, they played Dizzy Gillespie's "Bebop" with El'Zabar on hand drums (not sure if you'd actually call it a conga drum), which gave the song more of a pedal point base instead of flurry of chords normally heard in it. It changed the shape of the tune and gave it a new life. Acknowledging it's origin, perhaps, Dawkins quoted the bridge of Charlie Parker's "Donna Lee" - twice.

The second set kept the energy up, even during the more meditative "Can You Find a Place," with its vocal and kalimba groove. Dawkins pulled out tenor and alto to blow behind Wilkes during the boppish opener. And the all-percussive final tune took us out on a very high note.

CD Review: Barry Altschul - The 3dom Factor

Barry Altschul
The 3dom Factor
(TUM) www.tumrecords.com

Robert Wyatt once said that every time he hears a new record, he wants to hear an old one. It was his personal reworking of some author's observation that every time he reads a new book, he then wants to read an old one. That happens a lot with new albums: After hearing a new work by someone, I want to hunt down everything else they've done. Otherwise I feel like I'm missing something.

That feeling occurred while listening to The 3dom Factor, drummer Barry Altschul's first recording as a leader in over 25 years. Altschul earned his stripes for his work in Circle (the co-op group with Dave Holland, Anthony Braxton and Chick Corea) and the trios of Paul Bley and Sam Rivers. He's an ingenious percussionist who can play freely or swing viciously. In the past couple of years, he resurfaced, on the reunion disc with Rivers and Holland, and on Jon Irabagon's lengthy spontaneous disc Foxy. But between his name-establishing work and his resurgence, the drummer proved himself to be an excellent composer too, releasing albums which, on the basis of these performances, I feel compelled to track down.

The 3dom Factor revisits several of those compositions, with Irabagon (on tenor) and Joe Fonda (bass) along for the ride. Carla Bley's "Ictus" is also included, a tune Altschul played in Paul Bley's trio. Three new songs appear on the disc as well, to prove this isn't just a reflection of the past. Far from it - this is a vital album that is exuberant throughout the whole set.

From the moment the title track kicks off this album, the trio operates on a high level of communication. The theme here is vaguely reminiscent of an Ornette/folk style melody, which moves into solos marked by Irabagon doing some rapid slap-tonguing. When things drift apart freely, Fonda brings it back with some authoritative slides up the neck.

Altschul incorporated all sorts of percussion into his playing, and "Martin's Stew" exemplifies this. Over Fonda's bowed ostinato, the drummer blows whistles and never fully moving to the trap kit until Irabagon's solo later in the piece. The tenor player has appeared in different situations in his own sessions that span straight ahead jazz and blistering free improv, not to mention the nothing-is-sacred approach of Mostly Other People Do the Killing. In "Martin's Stew" he draws on all those experiences with astounding ease, going from growling overtones to convoluted lines of bop in a matter of breaths. His depth serves as a reminder that this guy is one of the most creative younger saxophonist out there.

When the group plays the two ballads, a little bit of wildness lies below the surface but it never shatters the mood. "Irina" uses space really well, moving a couple phrases at a time with punctuation coming from Altschul. Fonda plays a solo with a contrast of drawn-out notes and fast phrases. Irabagon feels like he wants to go wild but never does, using that energy instead to add color to the piece. He does something similar in "Just a Simple Song," starting subdued and gradually moving to a high shout. Fonda's double-stops in the melody make this one compelling too.

In the mid-'80s, Altschul wrote a tune called "For Papa Jo, Klook and Philly Too," paying tribute to his heroes Papa Jo Jones, Kenny "Klook" Clarke and Philly Joe Jones. Here the trio adds a little funk to the tune, transforming it into "Papa's Funkish Dance," and his rhythmic punctuation is electrifying. Another surprise comes in "Natal Chart," which is based on the idea that each of our solar system's planets have their own tone, and each is represented in the song. While things start wild, the planets align and the group eventually shifts in a Dixieland groove. That might sound crazy, but it works thanks to more bowing from Fonda and some machine gun-style fluttering tonguing from Irabagon.

The folks at TUM Records (which is based in Finland) know how to put together a package. The 3dom Factor's nearly 30-page booklet rivals AllMusic.com for detailed notes on the session, the musicians and the compositions, to the point where there's a bit of overlap. Nevertheless all the info is useful and it serves as the icing on a birthday cake for Mr. Altschul, who just turned 70 in early January.

May his seventh decade bring him more recognition not just for his past triumphs but for what's capable of doing right now. And believe me, he can still do a lot. It was tempting to expound on nearly every track.

CD Review: Chris Potter - The Sirens

Chris Potter
The Sirens
(ECM) www.ecmrecords.com

There have been moments during the last few Chris Potter albums where it's been easy to think, This is the future of jazz. Not to say that there aren't a lot of musicians advancing the music, but saxophonist Potter is someone who's fairly close to "mainstream" jazz but approaches it with the vision of, if not an avant-garde player, than someone who really pushes himself and listeners in the direction of adventure. He's a creative player, on tenor and soprano, as well as bass clarinet. For a musician who has played with Marian McPartland and Steely Dan, he has brought a good deal of fire to Dave Holland's groups, and Paul Motian's trios. In fact Motian's Lost in a Dream probably ranks with some of the best jazz albums of the last decade.

But the real excitement can be found on albums by Potter's Underground units, where he forgoes bass, has Craig Taborn cover those duties with keyboards and lets his Holland bandmate Nate Smith go wild on drums. On their 2009 album Ultrahang it seemed like Potter might have taken some cues from Tim Berne and he clearly knew what to do with them.

For his first album as a leader on ECM, Potter has brought along Taborn (on acoustic piano), with bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Eric Harland for his core quartet. The extra sense of experimentation comes with a second pianist, David Virelles, on prepared piano, celeste and harmonium. Virelles (who just released the highly-regarded Continuum on Pi Recordings) only seems to appear on a few tracks, if my ears are being accurate. But he adds a twist to the music without cluttering the balance of the quartet. The pianists' spare duet that closes the album leaves you wanting a lot more than some bare exchanges of sound too.

The compositions were inspired by the writings of Homer, and that being said, many take the slow and thoughtful course. The minor title track begins with Potter on bass clarinet, leading to a bowed solo by Grenadier in the same register as the reed, wrapping up with the leader switching to tenor. "Strangers at the Gate" finds Potter on soprano, and a dialogue between Taborn and Virelles with the latter's celeste being the more dissonant voice. In contrast, "Kalypso" doesn't quite capture the feeling of its synonymous title, but it gets Harland to play the melody with the tenor and get a little space of his own to flex a little.

Being an ECM album The Sirens has the majestic and somewhat dreamy production of Manfred Eicher setting the mood, though Potter reveals the bite in his playing as well. "Wine Dark Sea" begins gently but as his tenor solo develops, he gets a little more jagged, with the fire of the Underground albums coming into the mix. "Wayfinder" continues with the same type of wooliness, with Virelles adding some prepared piano clicks and celeste. Marked by shifting time signatures, the band still almost locks into a funk vamp by the end of the tenor solo.

Potter's sense of adventure is still going strong and this new album offers proof, which only grows with repeated listens.

On Allison Miller, Kevin Ayers, Chris Potter

Finally! I'm finally back online, 100%. Monday morning our internet connection was going on and off, on when the PC went into sleep mode, and off when I wanted to get online. After going through the long, drawn out, impersonal call to Verizon, complete with the canned empathy by the operator, it was clear that the problem was on our line and a tech had to come out. On Wednesday.

He finally came on Wednesday, only 30 minutes past the 4-hour window that they gave and he fixed the line. But the shock waves that the line update made (figuratively) kept me from getting on smoothly until about now.

Tuesday night I went to the Thunderbird because Colter Harper was leading Space Exchange that week and he had drummer Allison Miller in from New York to play with him. It was wild, because they were playing some of Colter's vocal songs, which are a little more singer-songwriter than straight jazz. Then they'd go off on solos and Miller was tearing it up like some combination of George Hurley and Jim Black. (That just came to me, Allison, don't bust my chops if you think I'm off the mark.) I know she plays with songwriters like Brandi Carlile too, so I wish I could start a band with her.

That night I was talking to my friend Jeff Berman about Soft Machine. I had posted on Facebook a few days ago that I pulled out Third and still love it. Jeff commented that he saw Soft Machine live, and on Tuesday he explained he saw them more than once, which made me jealous. And then...a day later, he came into the store and told me that original Soft Machine bassist Kevin Ayers had died. It's not quite the same synchronicity as when Paul Motian died (I was driving home one night thinking about how I might try to interview such a tough interviewee, unaware that he had died about an hour earlier), but still it was odd.

Here's an Ayers obit with a great photo of early Soft Machine. Funny how all those British bands started out looking zany or wiggy in the early days and later became so stoic. Compare the Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd to the lineup right after, and you'll see what I mean.

Here's also a link to an early Soft Machine song, "Jet Propelled," when the lineup also included Daevid Allen. I was rather disappointed with this whole album of songs, but this one is great.

Tonight is the Paula Poundstone show. I wrote a quickie about her for Pittsburgh City Paper this week but I think I'm going to skip the show, much as it'd be cool to see her. There are a few things coming up next week, including Suzanne Vega and the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble both on the same night. Plus I'm recording on Sunday afternoon. Both things could cut into family time.

Another thing that's happening this weekend is that the Chris Potter Quintet is playing in Cleveland. If only we were traveling to Ohio this weekend, I'd steal away to that for a few hours, but that ain't happening. If you're near Cleveland, though, check them out. I'll be reviewing the new album here soon.

CD Review: Wayne Shorter Quartet - Without a Net

Until March 5, there was an obtuse review here, but I've since revised it and given it to Blurt for them to run. I'll post a link when it's on their website.

Ken Stringfellow in Pittsburgh

Playing right now: JD Allen Trio - The Matador and the Bull.
(I bought this CD about 10 days ago during a binge at Sound Cat and didn't get to take the shrink wrap off until this morning.)

All the writing assignments, for the moment at least, wrapped up on Tuesday morning. They included a story for JazzTimes, four CD reviews for the same magazine (I was good and submitted some ahead of time), about three for Blurt and a preview for City Paper. Plus interviews for all of them that needed to be transcribed. Now it's back to the lingering feeling that I should be reviewing everything else here. What a joy it would be to just do that all day.

Last night I went to the Thunderbird to see Ken Stringfellow, with Will Simmons and his band (not sure if they're still the Upholsterers) opening. I missed Karl Hendricks' solo set since I had what's known in this house as "baby duty," though the person in question who I was putting to bed is no longer a baby. Will and the Gang played a tight set that included a guest vocal spot by Karl himself on a song called "Don't Look Back" that's not the Boston song. It's from some Nuggets box.

I'm not all that up on the Posies catalog though I think somewhere there in the house there's a solo CD by Stringfellow from when he was here on a solo tour. He has a beautiful voice, and a lot of his songs were marked by "woah-woah"s. I was expected something a little more pure pop, with power chords and hooks, but his playing was a little less pronounced than that, meaning it was a little more open. It was a different story when he played keyboard. Those songs were a little easier to groove on.

But he played a looooong time. I'm not exactly sure when he started but I'm pretty sure he bypassed the hour mark when I finally decided that I needed to hit the hay. Local violinist Megan Williams (my ex-bandmate from Up the Sandbox) and vocalist Emily Rodgers joined him, Megan for several songs, Emily for one that was sung on Stringfellow's album by Margaret Cho. He also talked Bill Fulmer from the Simmons band to blow some trombone on a song too.It all sounded pretty good.

In other news, I just discovered a couple days ago that Suzanne Vega is in town the same night as the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble. I've seen the latter and always passed up the former. I might try to do both that night, as Vega's doing an early and late show.

I've been getting daily comment emails sent to me that I delete, figuring Blogger would delete all the messages. Imagine my surprise when I saw 14 spam comments of "I enjoy blog you write" crap.

Monday recap

Yesterday I saw more writing action/preparation than I feel like I have in years.

9:00: Drop the boy off at school
9:30: Interview trombonist Curtis Hasselbring
10:00 - 1:59: Shower, mail package at post office, finish a review (a week early!) and send to JazzTimes, start on a second review
2:00: Interview Mary Halvorson re: Curtis Hasselbring, tinker w/review a little more
2:30: Interview Kahil El'Zabar for his upcoming Pittsburgh show
3:00-3:10: Run around in circles, feel productive, until it's time to pick up the boy from school.

If only everyday offered this much writing activity. I just emailed the second review and now I can't decide whether I should start on the El'Zabar piece or just listen to a CD I have to review by next week.

RIPs

Playing right now: Curtis Hasselbring - Number Stations (Cuneiform)

Before January even ended, there were a few RIPs to acknowledge. Jayne Cortez, poet, activist and performer (and one time wife of Ornette Coleman and mother of Denardo Coleman) actually passed away on December 28, though I only heard earlier in the week. She came to Pittsburgh in a band with Denardo around 2000, but unfortunately I never got to see her. She was 78. Here's an obituary on her. You know someone's legit if the Huffington Post is writing about them.

This week, "Conduction" master/cornetist Lawrence "Butch" Morris died on January 29, after a battle with lung cancer. Here's a nice obit on him. I got to talk to him a few years ago in advance of a performance in Buffalo and his philosophy about conduction was pretty fascinating.

Then last night, I read that Barbara Manning's mother, Saria Farr, also recently passed away. She wasn't a musician, at least not in the same capacity as her daughter, but she was clearly a positive influence on Barbara, whom I count as one of my all time favorite songwriters. Whereever she is, I wish Barbara and her sister Terri all the best.