Jazz Recommendations – 2014 Releases

Andy Emler, Claude Tchamitchian and Eric Echampard (aka ETE) are long-time collaborators.  Their newest album Sad and Beautiful is the third recording of these artists in a trio format.  This, in addition to their work together in Emler’s MegaOctet, has given rise to a certain empathy to the cryptic structures of Emler’s compositions as well as each artist’s peculiar voices that each of the artists possess.  It’s why so much of their music sounds so mysterious and strange, yet reflects a logic and beauty so simple to absorb.

2014’s Sad and Beautiful is the most concrete presentation of this yet.

Your album personnel:  Andy Emler (piano), Claude Tchamitchian (double bass), and Eric Echampard (drums).

As with past recordings, their newest collaboration is exemplified by an uneasy melodicism.  Opening track “A Journey Through Hope” opens with it immediately before breaking into a cant that carries that melody away.  Emler’s piano is a cascade of notes that withdraws and returns with a suddenness that is quite startling, just as it is welcome.  Tchamitchian provides dramatic strikes of lightning with some bass arco, bolstering the turbulence of Eschampard’s drums.

The interlude of “Last Chance” shows the trio’s ability to shift into a melody of a more elegant shapeliness.  The pleasant chatter from drums, the introspective missives from piano, deep sighs from bass.  “Elegances” picks up where the previous interlude left off, but sinks deeper into introspection before ramping things up to finish off the song.

“Second Chance” is a vortex of motion, growing faster as the trio reaches the core of the song.  On “Tee Time,” however, the force of the trio is more vertically directed, charging head first from the first notes, when bass comes out humming, piano taking leaps and bounds, and drums coaxing the intensity ever upward.  The trio slides into expressions of a defined melody that also possesses strong rhythmic implications.  A beautiful middle passage of bass arco, and piano singing just over the top, leads to some atonality when piano alters its voice and cymbals crash down repeatedly.  This, in turn, leads to a conclusion with a hurried demeanor and the delivery of abrupt phrases, contrasting with both the song’s cohesive opening and its serene middle section.  It’s these kinds of changes of expression that symbolizes so much of the strange and mysterious beauty contained in the music of these artists.

The albums final two songs do no less.  “By the Way” begins with a dancer’s elegance and proclivity for crisp and fluid changes of shape and motion.  And the concluding song “Try Home” is a subdued expression of what has come before… a brief and quiet introspection, and a curious beauty.

Released on La Buissonne.

Available at:  Bandcamp | eMusic | Amazon MP3

There is a charming quality to the creative fearlessness that pianist Michael Wollny displays in his projects.  His trio [em] was all modern piano trio, but along with the unrepentant flair for drama were Wollny’s quirky compositions that tinkered with cadence and melody in ways that seemed counterintuitive to the evocative aims typical to that particular brand of jazz-rock fusion.  Wunderkind, his duo collaboration with Tamar Halperin, built around keyboard instruments, with harpsichord as the centerpiece, isn’t the kind of project that is going to lead to a musician getting pigeonholed as anything ordinary.

This holds true, also, for his odd Thrillbox collaboration with accordionist Vincent Pierani and bassist Michel Benita, an album with a folksy charm and a warm heart and a vocabulary sufficiently expansive as to deftly rope a fascinating rendition of Thelonious Monk’s “I Mean You” into its embrace.  And then there were numerous renditions of Miles Davis and Duke Ellington compositions on his collaboration with saxophonist Heinz Sauer (If [Blue] Then [Blue]), a collaboration that has led to recordings that possess an austerity reminiscent of Nordic Jazz and the elegance of Classical.

Weltentraum, the newest by Wollny, displays more of that creative bravery, as he switches things up by building a new trio and adding a new sound to his already diverse repertoire.

Your album personnel:  Michael Wollny (piano, harpsichord), Tim Lefebvre (bass), Eric Schaefer (drums & percussion), and guest:  Theo Bleckmann (vocal).

In some ways, Wollny’s newest project is his most straight-forward.  This type of melodic impressionism is not a new thing, may actually symbolize the development of the jazz piano trio in the modern era, but Wollny’s current foray into the medium is nothing short of spectacular.  And since we don’t listen to sub-genres, but instead to the artists that express the common forms of music language, any time a talented musician picks up a particular line of dialog, it’s always reason to sit up and take notice.

It’s not uncommon for Wollny to embrace the music of others and channel it through his particular creative lens.  Weltentraum is no different in this regard.

The trio’s rendition of the Medieval court music of Mauchaut’s “Lasse!” retains a hint of formal dance, yet instills a nonchalance in the melodic expression that is a toothsome contrast.  And “Nacht,” an Alban Berg composition of function and fancy, is contorted into a little ramshackle tune that vacillates between a state of coalescence and one of carefree dispersion.

But it’s not all music of ages past.  Wollny’s trio brings a clearer definition to the shimmering harmonic wave that is the Flaming Lips “Be Free, a Way.”  A thick melodic line lights the path ahead, as patient expressions paint in evocative tones.  And a song that starts out with a moody disposition asserts its presence, growing increasingly dramatic as Wollny expands on the opening melody and Schaefer’s drums become more vociferous, and the song becomes something quite different from the original while still shadowing Wayne Coyne’s spark of inspiration.  And then there’s their rendition of pop artist Pink’s song “God is a DJ.”  Featuring the vocals of guest Theo Bleckmann, and also featuring Wollny’s sole appearance on harpsichord on this recording, they bring a Zen disposition and a droning ambiance to the original’s party-time atmosphere, and give a sincere take on a song for which it would be too easy to adopt a snarky attitude.

But Jazz is typified by honest takes on pop music of the day, going as far back as the genre’s birth with renditions of the Great American Songbook, through free jazz takes on songs like “My Favorite Things” and “Greensleeves,” of fusion and post-bop takes on the entire Beatles songbook, and now with renditions of the music of modern acts like Radiohead, Elliot Smith, and The Flaming Lips.

Intriguingly, but not surprising, Wollny hits upon a couple songs that fall far outside the mainstream.  The trio captures the inherent sadness in the Charlie Kaufman-Jon Brion tune “Little Person” by working a melodic seam as a gentle lullaby, and then allowing the song to drift from first note to last.  And Wollny breathes some Sunday church gospel into the fuzzily ambient selection from the David Lynch Eraserhead soundtrack, “In Heaven,” diverging from the original’s pop music tone with a different kind of soul.

Only a few of the album’s track are Wollny originals.  One of those is arguably the strongest of the bunch.  “When the Sleeper Wakes” has bassist Lefebvre setting the pace for a groove with all kinds of serious bounce.  Schaeffer flits between aiding that groove and joining Wollny’s series of improvisatory somersaults executed in the seams between the rhythm section’s landmarks.

Another Wollny original, “Engel,” is a slow build of melody, a rising tide that reaches its crest patiently, but with an increasing intensity that subsumes its tenacious demeanor.  Similarly, “Hochrot” glitters like stars with a harmonic brilliance that’s quite stunning, even though it never raises its voice to startle.  And then there’s “Muhlrad,” which comes in flurries, stays light on its feet… the playful dance of a flickering candle.

The entire album is enchanting in that way.  An unassuming beauty that resonates brightly.

Released on ACT Music.

Jazz from the Berlin scene.

Available at:  Amazon CD | Amazon MP3

I’ll add a link for eMusic when it becomes available.

One of the personal conflicts I have as a music listener is balancing my time searching for the next great album and revisiting those great albums already discovered.  This become increasingly problematic when the “past” albums are from decades ago, and there’s no real opportunity to combine listening with writing something for Bird is the Worm.  The Safety Net review series is a great opportunity to revisit modern, older albums and still get some writing done for the site.  But what if I just have to hear some jazz that sounds more like the Jazz that I grew up listening to, the Jazz that originally pulled me in?  That’s why it’s especially gratifying to discover a new recording that fills that need, while still presenting something New and Today to also satisfy my search for the next great album.

The trio of Jonas Kullhammar, Espen Aalberg, and Torbjorn Zetterberg are where I go when I need a modern fix of John Coltrane.  Their new release Basement Sessions Vol.2 is swimming in Coltrane classic quartet releases on Impulse Records, titles like Coltrane, Impressions, and The John Coltrane Quartet Plays… when Coltrane was finding freer forms of expression and combining them with a foundation of spirituality.

Your album personnel:  Jonas Kullhammar (tenor sax), Espen Aalberg (drums), and Torbjorn Zetterberg (bass).

This is music possessed of an unrelenting drive and paired with an elegant lyricism.  Opening out “Moksha” with meditative bass arco and ending with the intermittent splash of cymbals and saxophone fluttering lightly off onto the horizon, separated by powerful improvisations… there is an almost meditative quality to this very intense music.

“Oort Cloud” has sax taking calculated steps then suddenly leaping off any cliff it can find and flapping its wings furiously on the way down.  Meanwhile, drums and bass both forge ahead determinedly, contrasting vividly with Kullhammar’s demeanor on saxophone.  “Elvin’s Birthday Song” opens with some tuneful, understated playing, as if setting the scene before telling the story.  The conflict is played out by Aalberg’s torrential downpour of rhythm, clearing everything out but the sound of its impact.

The live wire crackle of drums on “Triton” match brilliantly with saxophone trills… a sensation made more thrilling by the way Zetterberg’s bass whips around them both.  And “One for Joe” is more about the trio interlocking their parts into one seamless thread of motion.

The album ends with “Moserobie Blues,” a song that swings at a gallop’s speed, seeming to fly perpetually an inch from the ground at all times.  And it’s that kind of intensely driven, yet tuneful lyricism that is so damn inviting about this music.  This is what saxophone trios are capable of… an unrelenting fury that still relates an engaging story.  So damn good.

Released on Clean Feed Records.

Jazz from the Orminge, Sweden scene.

Available at:  eMusic | Amazon MP3

*****

Other Things You Should Probably Know:

So, you’re probably wondering about the first volume of this series.  It’s not quite as driving as Volume 2, allows silence to become a factor, and is far more understated at times.  I believe over on the Clean Feed blog, they reference Sonny Rollins for this recording, and that’s not too far off.  While the Coltrane reference is still probably strongest for that first album, I get where that Rollins name drop is coming from.  I liked their album well enough, but don’t find it nearly as enchanting as their newest.

Here’s a LINK to a Soundcloud page that streams an album track from Basement Sessions Vol. 1.  I don’t think it’s necessarily representative of the entire album, but it’s something I guess.

Culled from a body of work John Lurie intended to be used as the launching pad for his Lounge Lizards ensemble, the music of The Invention of Animals, instead, became the core of this new release by the John Lurie National Orchestra.  Consisting of the sax/percussion/drums trio of Lurie, Billy Martin, and Calvin Weston, this music is a mix of previously unreleased and off-the-grid live and studio recordings, and highlights the trio’s intoxicating mix of melodic sleight-of-hand and rhythmic magnetism.

The album opens with “Flutter,” a song originally used on the soundtrack to Fishing With John, an odd tv show that had Lurie interacting with various friends while on fishing expeditions.  Aptly named, it features Lurie’s fluttering soprano lines skipping over Weston and Martin’s rhythmic waves.  It’s a stylistic device that Lurie has used previously to great effect, notably on a track like “A Paper Bag and the Sun” from 1988’s The Voice of Chunk, but from a wider perspective, Lurie’s woodwind trills are a bit of a signature expression, providing their biggest effect when he leaps into an improvisatory flight, with that fluttering sound like a sonic cloud of dust in his wake.

Following that is an alternate take on the title-track to the John Lurie National Orchestra 1993 recording Men With Sticks.  Lurie takes longer leaps on sax, attains a higher elevation, and this corresponds nicely to the rising intensity of Weston and Martin on drums and percussion.

“I Came To Visit Awhile” is from a 1993 live performance recorded at Tim Nye’s Thread Waxing Space in NYC.  The audio is distant and sounds cloaked in fog, but in a strange way, this enhances the ambiance… a moody dockside scene, saxophone the plaintive cry of a seagull cutting through the night, as buoys and boats provide a haunting array of percussive sounds, unseen and with a submerged affectation.

The album then enters a string of tracks mined from Fishing With John.  “The Beast” gets a nice tribal cadence going, with Lurie’s sax being carried along by the force of the rhythm.  “Little” shifts to the opposite end of that poll as Lurie offers up what sounds like the development of a melody absent the original statement.  The accompaniment of percussion gurgles and hisses with a susurrant presence.  It leads right into “The Giant,” a short interlude in which percussion develops a heavy chatter.  There’s a nice cohesion to the album development of stringing together this trio of tracks.

The album ends with the title-track “The Invention of Animals,” a sprawling 19-minute piece from a 1994 live performance in Thessaloniki, Greece.  It further proves that, when allowed to stretch out, the trio can keep the conversation going with plenty to say.  Weston and Martin offer up a furious barrage on drums and percussion.  Sometimes Lurie sounds engaged in a game of wordplay with the rhythm unit, sometimes he sounds to be sparring with them.  In both instances, the rhythmic dynamic is pretty thrilling, both as performance and as a sonic display of intellect and endurance.  The wind-down has a nifty return-to-the-nest sensation, bolstered by Lurie’s melodic glide and the rhythm section’s gradual paring down to a state of comforting repetition.  It’s a great way to have ended the album, with a huge swell of intensity and the nice soft landing.

There’s an obvious care and attention given to the selection of the tracks and their presentation, a sense that this has been curated and isn’t some random vault raid.  I’m typically hesitant about this type of release, but The Invention of Animals has got me wondering what else could be offered up in the future.  For those of you who are already fans of Lurie’s various projects, this is pretty much an auto-purchase.

Your album personnel:  John Lurie (alto & soprano saxes), Billy Martin (percussion), and Calvin Weston (drums).

Released on Amulet Records.

Available January 21st, 2014.

Pre-order here: Amazon MP3 | Amazon Vinyl | Direct from Amulet Records

I’ll add more links as they become available.  If you’re interested in the vinyl edition, it appears purchasing direct from Amulet is the better deal, as a digital version comes with the vinyl purchase.  Besides, it’s always better to purchase directly from the artist or label.

If you missed it, the other day I had a little column about Lurie & The Lounge Lizards, found HERE.

Also, kind of unrelated (but not really) is THIS LINK to Lurie’s other site, which focuses on his paintings.  The cover art of The Invention of Animals is taken from his collection.  It’s good stuff, and as I’ve mentioned on this site on several occasions, I’m a sucker for any time music is married to other art mediums, no matter how ambiguous the connection.