Swiss Jazz Orchestra “Lucidity” & Ratchet Orchestra “Hemlock”

May 24, 2013

 

For today’s Tiny Reviews edition, two big band albums which each grabbed my ear back when they were released in 2012, and haven’t really ever let go since.  So here’s a little bit about each of them.

Let’s begin…

 

Swiss Jazz Orchestra – Lucidity

Swiss Jazz Orchestra - "Lucidity"A fixture on the Bern, Switzerland scene for the last decade, the Swiss Jazz Orchestra has been finding that sweet spot between traditional big band sound and modern conventions.  On Lucidity, they bring all of the abounding euphoria one would expect from a small army of brass, woodwinds, and percussion, while at the same time, adding eccentricities and odd brush strokes that give the music a potently cerebral value, too.

Piano and percussion make for a vibrant pairing throughout this fine album, notably on the opening to “Teebeutelregen,” giving it a fairy tale mysticism, and later for an interlude on “A Chaser,” which serves as a transition from an exuberant group section to a bass solo.  The saxophone section also particularly shines on this recording.  Led by under-the-radar musician Reto Suhner, saxophones weave a tangled web of melody, yet never let it get anywhere close to becoming an unidentifiable mess.

Most tracks have an up-tempo demeanor, but some, like “Bathayal,” slows it down, letting saxophones take some lovely solos, and even on a track like “Losing Lucidity,” which is far from a ballad, yet the composition allows trumpet to coast over the tempo with unhurried purpose.  “Promenade” take a bit more of a mainstream approach, giving something up in terms of edge, and even a jaunty piano solo isn’t enough to overcome an unfortunate electric guitar section.  “Figment” also begins with a mainstream groove… bright notes and a slick bass line, but it gradually moves into something far less conventional… spurred on primarily by some nice trombone work, and, then, some intriguing percussion, and what began as ordinary has transformed into some quite nifty and different.

An album with a few flaws, but also an album that I return to with some amount of regularity when I’m looking for some big band music.  Definitely worth checking out.

[EDITOR'S NOTE:  Unable to confirm album personnel for this recording.]

Released on the Mons Records label.

Jazz from the Bern, Switzerland scene.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3

 

Ratchet Orchestra – Hemlock

Ratchet Orchestra - "Hemlock"On Hemlock, the 30-piece big band Ratchet Orchestra displays a talent at presenting traditional big band music through a modern avant-garde lens, with the resulting picture a clear image of strange and beautiful music.  Employing improvisational techniques that free the music of preordained form, they sprinkle their compositions with a pop-music melodic attention to detail and an industrial music mutation of sound, and it’s why tracks begin with an expected euphoric lift suddenly develop into big band music run through an audio blender.  Orchestral grace and avant-garde dissonance both find a home here.

“Yield” has a catchy hop and bounce, a celebration of celebrations, whereas “Safety” is the music of church mice.  The whimsical “Kick” is a jaunty tune that brings in some spoken word and percussion that sounds taken from a hardware store.  The two-part “Kick” builds melodies inside a rhythmic tempest, sometimes battered by the intensity, sometimes riding the drafts.  “Winnow” is a moonlight serenade on a night that gets a little stormy, but never stops feeling safe.

An inventive album from an innovative ensemble that’s been around for some time now.

Your album personnel:  Craig Dionne (flute), Jean Derome (bass flute, picolo, flute), Lori Freedman (clarinet), Gordon Krieger (bass clarinet), Christopher Cauley (soprano sax), Louisa Sage (alto sax), Damian Nisenson (tenor sax), Jason Sharp (bass sax), Ellwood Epps, Philippe Battikha (trumpets), Tom Walsh, Scott Thomson (trombones), Jacques Gravel (bass trombone), Thea Pratt (Eb horn), Eric Lewis (Euphonium),  Noah Countability, Gabriel Rivest (tubas), Joshua Zubot, Guido Del Fabbro, Brigitte Dajczer (violins), Jean René, Gen Heistek (violas), Norsola Johnson (cello), Nicolas Caloia (bass), Chris Burns (guitar), Guillaume Dostaler (piano), Ken Doolittle (percussion), Michel Bonneau (conga), Isaiah Ceccarelli, John Heward (drums).

Released on the Drip Audio label.

Jazz from the Montreal scene.

Download a free album track at AllAboutJazz, courtesy of the artists and label.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3



Steven Lugerner Dectet – “Live at the Bunker”

May 2, 2013

 

Steven Lugerner - "Live at the Bunker"Following the release of his duo debut recordings Narratives and These Are the Words, and in between two separate touring stints, multi-reedist Steven Lugerner felt a need to work on a new project in that period of down time.  Deciding to expand on the personnel and arrangements from the line-ups he had been working with, he ended up with a dectet and a set of compositions to match.  Following a series of rehearsals, they went into the recording studio for one session… which became Live at the Bunker.

I first became familiar with Lugerner right around the time he first released his two debut albums.  Both received mention in my Best of 2011 run-down, and both still deserve it.  Two different albums, a septet and a quartet session, each with different personnel, and each having different sounds (Narratives a storytelling demeanor and These Are the Words an argumentative one), and both articulating impressive creative visions… particularly astonishing in light of the debut status.  And Lugerner has a new release out soon, For We Have Heard, so I didn’t want this particular release to perhaps get lost in the crowd.  No overdubs or editing, it’s a single performance that serves as another photograph of the development of Lugerner’s sound and vision.  That, and it’s just a fascinating little album.

Your album personnel:  Steven Lugerner (bass clarinet, soprano & alto saxes), Matt Marantz (tenor & soprano saxes), Jonah Parzen-Johnson (baritone sax), Stephanie Richards (trumpet), Natalie Cressman (trombone), Angelo Spagnolo (guitar, banjo), David Scanlon (guitar), Glenn Zaleski (piano, Wurlitzer), Matthew Wohl (bass), and Max Jaffe (drumset).

Of immediate impact is the inclusion of banjo on this recording, and the doubling up with guitar.  Opening track “Bells & Whistles” offers up an enticing juxtaposition between the quaint rustic chatter of banjo and the assertive voices of saxes and brass, sections that quaver like sunlight on a calm breeze and others that skitter happily along.  Even those times when saxes and brass join forces, the expressions are languorous and bewitching, doing nothing to dispel the tune’s congenial ambiance.

But that doesn’t last throughout.  “Cardboard” takes a few departures into different territories.  What starts out a peaceful tune descends into avant-garde territory.  The clash of sounds does a remarkable job of mimicking a forest thick with the sound of wild birds… an effect that instills a meditative calm at a dissonant moment.  Wurlitzer offers a shimmery response to the combined roar of saxophones.  Eventually the tune takes another turn, this time into more conventional territory, before eventually ending up from where it began.

“Maaria” opens with the howl of saxophones and the rattle of banjo across the floor.  A haunting tune, though not necessarily threatening.  It slowly morphs into a lullaby that dreams of becoming a ballad.

“Spectrophobia” hammers the melody down in place, then slowly taps it gently throughout the remainder of the song.  Light on its feet and twisting up and quickly unwinding, it gives the sense of motion standing in place, and shares a neighborhood with the forward-thinking music of Todd Sickafoose’s Tiny Resistors.

The album ends with “Alondra,” a composition from Lugerner’s Narratives.  Both that version and the one here are enchanting and warm, but the original was often cloaked in dim moonlight and the current rendition is content standing in sunlight.  Lugerner gets the dectet to warp the notes and scar the edges, and the song’s unpolished veneer brings out fascinating details from the composition not evident in the original.

Really, just an enchanting album.

The album is Self-Produced.

Jazz from NYC.

Available only as a digital release on Lugerner’s Bandcamp page.

*****

Narratives

And here’s a LINK to my recap of Lugerner’s Narratives.  It’s not too extensive; I was just getting this site up and running, and trying to give a rundown of the best stuff that 2011 had to offer.  I’m also kind of nervous to re-read (or point out) any of my writing from back then, but I’m linking to it anyways.



Something Different: Tania Giannouli & Paulo Chagas – “Forest Stories”

April 13, 2013

 

Tania Giannouli & Paulo Chagas - "Forest Stories"A duo collaboration between wood instrument specialist Paulo Chagas and pianist Tania Giannouli, Forest Stories is a set of improvisational pieces that only give the impression of an album divided into individual songs… the album possesses a one-take presence, as if not just the music was created in the moment, but also the silences between the “songs.”  Ultimately, it’s the intimacy derived from this type of spontaneous creation that makes music like this so embraceable.

Your album personnel:  Paulo Chagas (alto & soprano saxophones, bass & sopranino clarinets, flute, bamboo flute) and Tania Giannouli (piano).

As a going concern, this is an album that effectively maintains a languid presence.  Sometimes the artists stir things up a bit, but the occasional bursts of dissonance and clashes of notes are akin to ripples in a calm pool of water.

Opening track “Step By Step” establishes that languorous tone.  Piano whispers soft words to bass clarinet when it hums a tune.  Piano murmurs placating notes to bass clarinet when it raises up and shouts.  The song ends with a dissolve into silence from which it began.

“Afternoon Forest Valse” begins with an abrasive tone.  Soprano sax brings some tea kettle steam.  Piano restricts its movements to a small area, while Chagas flutters about it.

“This Beautiful Hard Way” has Giannouli more active on piano, running up and down the length of a melody.  Chagas, now on flute, pokes its head up and speaks at effective intervals.  The beauty of this song isn’t easy to capture, yet has that unmissable quality of a glistening object in light.

“Is This Forever” and “Instead of Clouds” double back onto some territory already covered.  Piano and sax keep in-step with one another, offering thoughtful statements that just hang in the air.  Sax gets a bit querulous.  Piano grows pensive.

While most tracks have an airy motion to them, there are moments of staggered fluidity, like the sharp strikes of piano and flute shrieks of “Spring’s Chronic.”  And “In the Deepest Night” quavers with suspense and dark mystery.

The album ends with “The Way Back Home,” the closest thing to a conventional tune.  Also, the album’s prettiest moment.  A delicate melody, with expressions on sax and piano that respect the fragile state of things.  And, in that it is preceded by seven tracks of a sparse dissonance and formless geometry, the closing song is made more marvelous by the way it allows the album’s various elements to coalesce in its final moments.

Released on the Rattle Records label.

Album cover by Andreas.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3



Hypnotic Zone – “La Justice, les Filles et l’Eternite”

April 10, 2013

 

Hypnotic Zone - "La Justice, les Filles et l'Eternite"The piano trio going by the name of Hypnotic Zone offers up La Justice, les Filles et l’Eternite, an album with a singular personality… rich with eccentric quirks and off-kilter traits.  At times, it’s quite expressive of the Austrian jazz scene, often treading the same territory as ECM label artists who hail from the same land.  But this is just one side of this album with a dual personality.  Many moments of serenity suddenly dissipate into thin air, replaced by the swirling chaos of dissonant notes and relentless percussion.  It makes for an unsettling reaction.

But then, with time, the music’s patterns become more evident, the way the music respires and the way it drifts, and how it transitions between those two states of existence.  It’s not an album perpetually in flux… it just feels that way at times.

Your album personnel:  Villy Paraskevopoulos (piano), Stefan Thaler (bass), and Niki Dolp (drums).

On tracks like “Jupiter” and “Nocturne,” Paraskevopoulos offers up thoughtful expressions on piano, sometimes angelically and sometimes with a growl, and often within the span of the same tune, but he also shows flashes of dexterity on keys, as on the up-tempo “Bo-Ba.”

Bassist Thaler displays a refreshing panache soloing out on “Interlude #3,” but he really shines when he doubles back and outflanks the rhythm on tracks like “Introspectracular,” darkening the shadowy foundation of the songs, and providing an emotional charge that lofts the tunes up to something a little more special.

Dolp approaches the drum work aggressively, and it’s a big reason why the album possesses such a formidable presence.  Even when the trio maintains a quiet disposition, Dolp makes sure they never enter a defensive crouch.  Each song feels like it could spring to life and at any moment, and that presumed volatility keeps the ear on its toes.  On “Semira’s Dream,” drums keep more to the back of the mix, with piano and bass bringing the volume, yet Dolp is the most expressive of the three, punctuating the sentences of his trio mates as the launching point into his own statements.  The rollicking album-opener “Introspectracular” reflects this approach, too.  Dolp sets the pace of a forced march, and the melody becomes a slap in the face.

The few interludes throughout the album serve as nice transitions between songs.  There’s an art to utilizing interludes within an album… the risk is making them superfluous, and rendering the conclusions of songs and the subsequent beginnings as something awkward and lacking cohesion.  The key is building just enough personality into the interludes to make them worthy of remark, and using as ingredients the elements of the songs that bookend them.  That’s done quite well on this recording.  Most notably, in how the ferocity of opening track “Introspectracular” is allowed to slide into the gentle thoughtfulness of “Jupiter.”

The album ends with an extrapolation of Erik Satie’s “Gymnopedies,” titled “Satie’s Little Blues Waltz.”  Aside from being spectacularly clever, it’s an ingenious way to end this album.  Up to this point, the music was focused on the duality of serenity and dissonance, yet in the album’s final moment of expression, it fuses those two elements into a warm, inviting tune, but one that still has some bite to it.

This may be one of those albums that take a little while to settle in.  From my perspective, it’s worth the investment.  With subsequent listens, this CD gets stored incrementally closer to my stereo.

Released on the Listen Closely label.

Jazz from the Vienna, Austria scene.

Cover art by Christos Kapatos.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3



Vince Abbracciante – “Introducing… Vince Abbracciante”

April 9, 2013

 

Vince Abbracciante - "Introducing..."A nifty release by accordionist Vince Abbracciante, who brings a genuine drop-dead cool attitude to his instrument.  Though Introducing… Vince Abbracciante qualifies as his debut recording, Abbracciante has been around the scene for a little while, notably as part of the The Bumps, a trio that will receive some print here in the near future.

Not unlike fellow accordionist Andrea Parkins, who recently contributed to Ches Smith‘s Hammered (reviewed here, on Bird is the Worm), Abbracciante evokes a bad-ass demeanor on accordion, while also providing a complementary fuzzy warmth to the sharp edges of multiple saxophone parts.  And, yet, where Smith’s album was a barrage of dissonance, Introducing… offers up something far closer to a modern straight-ahead jazz recording, a work that will have plenty of appeal to listeners who prefer their Jazz to echo the sounds of the past, as well as those listeners who like their Jazz to keep their eyes on the road ahead.

Your album personnel:  Vince Abbracciante (accordion), Roberto Ottaviano (tenor & soprano saxes), Fabrizio Scarafile (soprano sax), Giuseppe Delre (voice), Adriana Ciannella (voice), Juini Booth (bass), and Antonio Di Lorenzo (drums).

Some tracks, like album opener “Visione,” hark back to earlier times, when Jazz was beginning to transmute from Hard Bop to music with a harder exterior and a spiritual tone.  “Em Mi” begins with a brooding tone, then, like a bird suddenly leaping into flight, the song takes off, gradually gaining speed up until the final note.  And “Puglia” also charts a course that’s slow and moody, with bass offering intermittent words that resonate loud and clear, while accordion murmurs in the background.

But most tracks bring an upbeat tempo that’ll incite the foot to tap and the head to bop.  “Yes or No” has sax flying over the top as accordion applies support from beneath, while drums clear out a path for everyone to roll through.  And on “MDX,” drums and bass set a nice groove, while accordion paints at the groove’s edges.  Tracks like “Nu Blu Bossa” and “La Jaiba” bring a Latin flavor to the affair, with cadences that pulse and flutter, and melodies that dart about like fish in a stream.

Most tracks reflect one of the Italian approaches to Jazz, infusing the music with some of the regional folk music, not unlike, say, the Simone Guiducci Gramelot Ensemble, but where Guiducci leans more to the rustic side of that spectrum, Abbracciante’s music hits more celebratory notes, and brings it more in line with traditional forms… a certain ebullience.

Definitely one to check out.

Released on the Bumps Records label.

Jazz from the Apulia, Italy scene.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3