Got the chance to see this outfit, which Fujiwara calls his 7 Poets Trio, a couple times. Each visit reminded me that there’s tremendous communication between the drummer/bandleader, cellist Tomeka Reid, and vibraphonist Patricia Brennan; moving as one is an act they’ve nailed down tight. That victory boosts the music’s impact, of course. When the slightest accents and the wooliest exclamations are delivered by inspired allies, performances take on an extra dose of authority. Last spring, the group hit New York’s Jazz Gallery for a handful of shows before recording Pith at New Haven’s Firehouse 12 studio a couple days later. Seems the give and take of the bandstand action paid off. An exemplar of accord, Pith is a fist in a velvet glove.
That said about the fruits of teamwork, Brennan’s instrument has a way of guiding the music’s personality. In her hands, the vibraphone can be eerie, radiant, or antagonistic, depending upon her attack and choices of settings. Her own albums as a leader, More Touch and Maquishti, are good examples of how broad her palette is. Here, on “Resolve,” she brings a spectral atmosphere to the fore, her mates generating provocative drones with cello overtones and etched cymbals. Fujiwara’s six pieces are wonderfully discrete; the program changes moods with graceful twists. Balancing the ambience of “Resolve,” “Swelter” lives up to its title with a militant pulse that tilts toward punk-rock minimalism. “Josho” is the album’s most swinging affair. The drummer’s groove and the cellist’s bounce lift Brennan’s lines high in the air. With Pith, Fujiwara blends punch and poetry to take a big step forward.
The first splash of sound heard on Sorey’s second trio album of overt jazz tunes is dominant enough to forecast the entire program’s rather dramatic tone. It doesn’t explode exactly – the drummer’s group is so concerned with calibration that this kick-off is much more nuanced than a true outburst. It’s just three musicians grabbing you by the collar and letting you know that it’s ignition time. The tune is Wayne Shorter’s “Reincarnation Blues,” and the work of Sorey’s squad, bassist Matt Brewer and pianist Aaron Diehl (the same outfit behind last year’s Mesmerism), echoes the song title: the action is built on continuously morphing ideas.
A sense of suspense marks the band’s approach. Brewer brings a ‘Tell-Tale Heart’ vibe to the eerie start of Ahmad Jamal’s “Selritus.” At nearly 16 minutes, it’s the longest performance on the album, and its theatrical denouement is prefaced by a parade of inspired increments, including grand flourishes by Diehl and tom-tom wallops by the leader.
The process generates its own mysteries. Improvisation is the trio’s driving force, but many moves are marked by a collective consideration that partly owes its architectural savvy to the modern classical compositions Sorey has become known for in the last decade. The choice to address 1946’s “Angel Eyes” at a crawl hints at the noirish tint some of this music gives off. Here Brewer is the drummer and Sorey the colorist. Each note the pianist delivers has a bluesy impact, as if it stepped out of the shadows to reveal its truly forlorn nature.
While all three musicians guide this enterprise, Continuing puts a sweet spotlight on Diehl’s expertise. Sneaking up on melodies, acting just as rambunctious as the drummer, blending Ellington’s abstract side with Jamal’s cagey maneuvers – his ploys are many, and all are compelling. Whether delivering a rapturous rainstorm of notes towards the end of Shorter’s opus (first heard on Art Blakey’s 1964 Buhaina’s Delight) or riding a swinging groove with funk inflections on Harold Mabern’s “In What Direction Are You Headed,” he fans the flames generated by his mates. The carte blanche attitude Sorey hands down to his crew emboldens every phrase of Continuing’s quite individual adventure.
It’s one thing to be a master drummer, bringing a variety of percussion ploys to the era’s most respected ensembles. It’s another to lead a uniquely designed group and write a book of odd but inviting tunes for it. Royston does both, and it’s been fun to watch his talents unfold through the last decade. His work with JD Allen, Bill Frisell, and Dave Douglas is that of a powerhouse sideman, energizing any and all ensemble gambits. But where his artistic persona truly blossomed was the arrival of Flatbed Buggy, an instantly compelling outfit with the curious front line of accordion and bass clarinet. Their 2018 debut was received warmly by critics and fans. “By stressing variety and dodging routine jazz tacks, the middle-aged whirlwind signals that he’s a risk-taker who’s ready to follow his muse down uncommon roads,” said DownBeat. Brimming with ideas, the sunny program of Royston’s first album was inspired by childhood visits to rural Texas. DAY has a theme, too: investigating mental states Call it a pandemic meditation, a glance at the psychological subdivisions of a 24-hour clock ticking while you’re stuck in one place.
The blend of John Ellis’ bass clarinet and Gary Versace’s accordion is novel enough to demand attention, but it’s Team Royston’s catchy tunes that grab you first. Frolic sets the overall tone; the melodies of “Morning” and “Five-Thirty Strut” bounce with a gleeful spirit. Their buoyancy has to do with the well-gauged locomotion of the rhythm section. Bassist Joe Martin and cellist Hank Roberts provide their boss with the kind of nudging that gives the pieces extra juice. If the scores weren’t as clear as they are, this double-stringed approach might crumble into clutter. But on “The Mokes” and “Keep It Moving,” there’s a sweet sense of duty in play – each improviser gives the drummer discrete materials to work with. The ballads are even more fetching. “Look To The Hills” inches along, assured of its own allure. Like some of Frisell’s more elaborate miniatures (see “The Gallows,”“Stringbean” or “Gather Good Things”) Royston’s pieces seem sketchy yet thorough – chamber swing that shrugs off requests to scrape the mud from its shoes before it sits down in the parlor.
Ya gotta change shit up, right? The NYC quartet has always had a fierce sound – its blend of slide trumpet, saxophone, bass, and drums is built on a sassy oomph that never blinks. Sure, they appreciate nuances just as much as any improvising quartet should, but they’re always ready to put some punch into a flourish and kick some ass with an anthem (grab some headphones and check their operatic spin on “Ruby Tuesday”). Their 10th album is about transition, however; it finds ‘em moving from their tried-and-true acoustic approach to cagey digi-matic maneuvers that are tweaked to form a rambunctious terrain. The vibe is 2025 if not 2029: there’s something cranky, cool, and cosmopolitan about the whole thing, like the soundtrack to a long stroll down down the Champs-Élysées if it felt like 14th Street and smelled like the Bowery.
The Hard Way was produced by Scott Harding, a longstanding band ally who sculpted their sonics previously but is crucial enough to this record’s personality to be deemed a fifth Mobster. In his hands, Kenny Wollesen’s drums get a robotics lesson, the horns of Briggan Krauss and Steven Bernstein are plied with fuzzy filters, and that groove machine wielded by bassist Tony Scherr comes off like Aphex Twin put James Jamerson on his payroll – psychedelic with a futuristic flava. From the chopped and screwed hijinks of “Fletcher Henderson,” to the dubby prayer of “Dominion,” the band finds several ways to connect the dots between abstraction and melody, earnestness and nonchalance, spontaneity and design. A couple guests drop by. Vijay Iyer adds spooky keybs to “You Can Take a Myth” and John Medeski’s B-3 gets ultra saucy on “Banacek” (which conjures visions of George Peppard’s dapper turtleneck). But added instruments don’t really matter; Bernstein’s brass and Krauss’ alto are at the center of the action, and Harding’s finger is always on the climate control knob. Because the band has heart to spare, his mildly aggro atmosphere seldom sounds harsh. And just because they’re messing with beats, don’t think Sexmob has abandoned the tradition they’ve been gleefully giving a hot foot since their late ‘90s romps at NYC’s Knitting Factory. The final snatch of melody heard as the record fades away is “Sunny Side of the Street.”
Marshall Allen & The New York City All-Stars Shift Friday, February 3
“Imagination is the magic carpet,” Marshall Allen told NPR a couple years ago. “It’ll take your soul to distant lands. And outer space.” The 98-year-old saxophonist, who joined Sun Ra’s Arkestra in 1958 and now leads the indefatigable outfit, is an anything-goes guy who likes to move things forward. Those pithy cri de coeurs he wails on the band’s version of “Firefly” from their Living Sky album are as heartfelt as they are disruptive. After decades of gigs with his mentor Ra, Allen knows that both angles can be in play simultaneously – their balance enriches the music’s emotional spectrum. For this rare non-Arkestra gig, a benefit for Arts For Art, Marshall is the maestro, leading a scad of intrepid improvisers. Vocalist Fay Victor, alto saxophonists Darius Jones and Aakash Mital, soprano player Sam Newsome, bassist Brandon Lopez, drummer Lesley Mok, and an array of others comprise the sizeable group. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE. THE SUN RA ARKESTRA PLAYS AT THE WHITE EAGLE HALL IN JERSEY CITY ON SATURDAY.
Wendy Eisenberg / Ryan Sawyer / Lester St. Louis – Studies In Loyalty Roulette Friday, February 3
Kept my ears on Wendy Eisenberg the other night at John Zorn’s Derek Bailey fest because her musical decisions wouldn’t let me turn away. Whether it was some insightful raking she added to a string trio rounded out by Mary Halvorson and Bill Frisell, or a tender series of lyrical fillips she chose to deliver during another of the program’s insightfully curated subsets, the guitarist’s timing and choices continuously proved their value – birthing abstraction and then getting it to do her bidding is Eisenberg’s forte. And she does it with a smile on her face, as if her countenance was a billboard for the joy of creation. The unusual structures of her songs can momentarily perplex, but they’re built on idiosyncrasies whose playfulness is right up front. Genial oddities with pointedly poetic lyrics that long to have a pop impact regardless of their eccentricities – no wonder hints of Meat Puppets and minutemen waft by from time to time. She says this newish trio’s rapport is such that it feels like they’ve “been on the road for 20 years.” Spend time with her Bent Ring and Auto albums, and then imagine what a cellist and drummer can bring to the party. The trio will be “improvising around and beyond” her tunes. (above image by Taylor Sesselman)
Allison Miller’s Boom Tic Boom Dizzy’s Club Tuesday, January 31- February 1
Personnel shifts have only enhanced the vitality of the nimble drummer’s longstanding ensemble. Miller runs with the best jazz has to offer, and her previous choices for the group (Kirk Knuffke, Todd Sickafoose, Ben Goldberg, Jenny Scheinman) have delivered big-time through a handful of terrific albums (do be sure to stick your head into the wonderous Glitter Wolf). Because she’s as clever with her pen as she with her sticks, the leader always comes up with a book that employs crackling kinetics to broker catchy melodies that weave in and out of view while breaking bread with cagey improv passages. BTB’s latest iteration should be able to continue that tradition nicely. Joining longstanding pianist Myra Melford for this Dizzy’s hit is bassist Scott Colley and saxophonist Dayna Stephens. The former is expert at propulsion, always using a dash of vim to boost the music’s vigor; the latter is a tenor player whose command of the horn can be dizzying. Churchy exclamation, whispered asides – his range is wide and his truths are many. Miller’s multi-faceted approach to swing and off-hand ardor will surely keep them on their toes.
(image by Shervin Lainez)
OTHERITEMS OF INTEREST
Ben Wolfe Quartet Birdland Thursday, February 3-Sunday, 5
Peter Apfelbaum, Allan Mednard, Mike McGinnis Endless Life Brewing Saturday, February 4
Anthony Coleman Residency Barbes Saturday February 4,11,18,25 6 pm
Ken Peplowski Quartet Mezzrow Friday, February 3 – Saturday, February 4
Ingrid Laubrock, Fay Victor, Patricia Brennan, Michael Dessen, Joshua White, Mark Dresser, Gerald Cleaver Roulette Widening the Embrace: A Reduced Carbon Footprint Concert
George Garzone Trio Smalls Friday, February 3 – Saturday, 4
Brooklyn has been a hotbed of creative jazz for the last several years, and it shows no sign of abating. To wit: the raucous yet architectural music of drummerTomasFujiwara. On TheAir is Different his Hook Up quintet demonstrates its scope with a program that allows a swirl of singular motifs to have their say while still presenting a unified statement. At various points saxophonist Brian Settles growls, trumpeter Jonathan Findlayson coos, and guitarist Mary Halvorson screeches; the cagey rhythm section of bassist Trevor Dunn and the bandleader give these disparate textures a solidifying glide. Elements of swing have as much say as elements of rock, and Fujiwara’s compositions are eloquent, whether they’re musing poignantly, as they do on “For Ours,” or celebrating agitation, as they do on “Double Lake, Defined.”
Breadth is something Fujiwara is truly invested in. In the liner note he quotes Fela about rhythm’s responsibilities, and reveals inspirational sources that include Bjork, a Buddhist bell-bowl, and first 16 bars of Talib Kweli’s rhyme on Black Star’s “Definition.” The curves that mark “Smoke-Breathing Lights” – a piece about the way different people walk – is a microcosm of the program. In the middle of a 10-minute suite (of sorts) there’s an exchange between Halvorson and Settles that gives each a chance to move from stormy to sublime. Something similar happens on the title track, dedicated to Fujiwara’s grandfather, a Buddhist priest. It begins with a march feel, makes room for a knotty passage, and harks to Coltrane’s Interstellar Space with a romp between Settles and the drummer. Agility is a prerequisite for this outfit, and as the music morphs, a thesis starts to float between the passages: life’s contours are many, and you’d best be prepared for what’s around the corner.
barnesandnoble.com: A sideman becomes leader. Have you been waiting for the chance?
Jeff “Tain” Watts: Yeah, it’s time. It feels a bit bizarre, but I can’t wait to see what people think.
bn: Have you always been as physical a drummer as you are now?
JTW: I think so, yeah. The physical side has always been there. At 23, I had recorded Wynton’s THINK OF ONE and Branford’s SCENES IN THE CITY, and that whole physical thing was in place. But these days I’ve been trying to get to a more…I don’t want to say cerebral, because that sounds too heavy, but a deeper thing. Creating a personal language for me and the guys I play with.
bn: Was practicing a more aggressive kind of swing part of the agenda back then?
JTW: Well, back then, Wynton probably felt that the jazz ball had been dropped a bit, or delayed by the music of the day – – you know, how he felt about the avant garde and fusion. So it seemed we were checking Trane’s music, Ornette’s stuff. Picking up on a time line really. Basically it’s all hard- hitting music. Before I moved to New York, I’d been playing a lot of fusion and rock-oriented stuff.
bn: Were bosses telling you to tone it down back then?
JTW: It’s only been recently that a bunch of different people have been hiring me for gigs, and they know what they want going in. If they would have hired back then, they might have said something in order to preserve their music. These days I try to tailor the moves to the full service of the music at hand.
bn: Which of the really physical jazz drummers had it all?
JTW: In a physical sense, easily Tony Williams. Billy Cobham, too, back in the day. Several years ago, there was a double bill at the Blue Note – – those two together. Tony with Wallace Roney and those guys. Cobham in a trio with Wayne Krantz. So I called a bunch of drummers – – Troy Davis, Gene Jackson, Cecil Brooks, just a big pile of drummers. I said “Man, let’s get a bad table and check this stuff out!” Tony really went out of his way to do the job that night. It was great. He could kick, right?
Lament For A Straight Line 