I haven’t exactly held back when it comes to expressing my adoration for the music of Bill Frisell.  It was guitarist Frisell, pianist Thelonious Monk and bassist Charles Mingus that first catapulted me into the first real stages of immersing myself in all things Jazz.

As with any artist of any medium who is truly dedicated to their craft, Frisell’s prevalent sound has changed over time.  New visions are formed, new avenues are explored, the perpetual conversation between the artist and him-herself never truly ends.  The artist changes, and thus, so does the manifestation of their creative pursuits.  I’m glad Bill Frisell doesn’t sound like he used to, but there are times when I listen to one of his older album, and it triggers a wistful thought about how an album might sound today if he were to somehow revisit those older voices.  Asking that would be like asking an artist to time travel, to go back to how they were back then, because, really, that’s the only way to recapture those moments in any kind of genuine fashion.  So, we listen to those old albums of how the artist was, and in a way, it’s almost as if we are traveling back in time, because naturally those older albums conjure up memories of when we purchased the album, when we first listened to it, and all of the ways that music stamped its mark on the timelines of our lives.

However, another way to vicariously relive those moments is when a different artist bottles up something similar as they, too, go on their own personal path of creative development.  Guitarist Mike Lorenz is currently one of a small handful of guitarists I go to when I’m craving some of the 1980s Bill Frisell sound.  Back then, Frisell was working with a mix of potent ambient drone and a hard precision as if he were wielding the melody like a blade.  Albums like 1983’s In Line and the excellent comp of that period, Works, were two staples of my early-morning listening routine.  I loved how they could lull me into an abiding sense of serenity even when the music rose up and attacked.  The music was massively contemplative, even when it surged up and roared.  From his digs in Bethlehem, PA, Mike Lorenz has been doing the same for on his latest recordings.  You should know about his music.

Let’s begin…

Mike Lorenz – Riverside

The latest release by Lorenz is a live recording from a performance at the 2015 Riverside Jazz Festival.  One of the essential elements of Frisell’s 1980s sound was how he transformed an ambient drone into waves of dissonance.  Opening track “E Minor” launches right into that approach.  A completely improvised piece, it begins as a murmur, then gradually spikes the intensity up higher and higher.

Bassist Justin Sekelewski and drummer Kevin Ripley lock into Lorenz’s flight patterns.  Ripley is plenty talkative on drums, which really needs to be the case, because it stops the drone passages from ever becoming sleepy and it also helps frame the context of the more explosive moments and mitigates the risk of guitar ever coming off as unnecessarily screechy.  Sekelewski shifts between melodic subtitles to Lorenz’s guitar and rhythmic reinforcement and misdirection to drums, depending on which way the melody blows.  It’s a lesson in the way subtlety can move mountains.

“Paragraph” is a lively tune, but its hazy melodicism maintains a sense of mystery, and, also, prevents it from developing into straight-ahead tedium.  Frisell’s more lively tunes often gave the impression of running through a thick fog.  Both “Paragraph” and subsequent track “Marie” hit that sweet spot, with the former focusing more on the running motion and the latter with an emphasis on the ephemeral presence of the fog.

The fourth and final track on this EP is “New One for Ornette,” and this time the trio leads right out with the furious side of their drone-roar spectrum.  And yet, even here, the thoughtful phrasings and the scaling of intensity between the trio members combine to present an introverted side of things even when they’re unleashing sheets of flame.  And, from the album’s contemplative opening notes and up to these final moments, the slow build of intensity leads to a satisfying conclusion to a very nice recording.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Justin Sekelewski (bass) and Kevin Ripley (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

Listen to more of the album at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Available at:  Bandcamp

*****

Mike Lorenz – I Am Watching My Day Slowly Disappear

Lorenz has the same trio on his 2015 studio recording I Am Watching My Day Slowly Disappear.  And as opposed to the potent tranquility and controlled fury of Riverside, this set of tunes drowns in distortion and scatters in random motions and has a thick, smoky presence.  It also has plenty in common with Frisell’s 1985 release Rambler.  The song “Paul Motian” (who, coincidentally or maybe not so coincidentally, was the drummer of these Frisell recordings) speaks to the heart of this form of expression.  On this, it’s especially appealing the way Ripley’s drums keeps circling rapidly around the slow footfalls of Lorenz’s guitar, while the bass of Sekelewski fills in the shadows in between.

For the edge, “Everything’s On, All the Time” flashes sharp teeth and those precise melodic phrases become distorted growls, as do the pairing of “Phase Phrase” and “Phrase Phase.”  And when the trio strays closer to the calmer side of town, “Marie 1” and “Marie 2” find a perfect balance of tranquility and hyperactivity.  The melody and motion feed off one another, their contrasting qualities enhancing the subdominant elements in each.  It’s also the kind of thing where both a cerebral and emotional connection can be made concurrently.  “Marie” also made an appearance on Riverside, and hopefully that composition theme will be a recurring thing throughout Lorenz’s discography.  It’s also nice to witness that Lorenz’s sound is omnipresent whether in the studio or a live setting, that this sound is innate to him and not to the whims of a one-time improvisation or studio manipulation.  It’s also fine music.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Justin Sekelewski (bass) and Kevin Ripley (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

Listen to more of the album at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Available at:  Bandcamp

*****

Mike Lorenz – Of the Woods

This does not sound like Bill Frisell, not even a little bit at any time.  However, Of the Woods was my introduction to the music of Mike Lorenz.  It was included on one of my very first recommendations columns when I first came on board eMusic for their 17 Dots blog.  It’s basically a straight-ahead modern jazz recording.  There are times it sounds like it’s going to enter the nu-jazz territory of Brian Blade Fellowship, but then it returns to a more conventional sound.

When I revisit this 2011 recording years later, I still find its moody ambiance, crisp melodies and how it occasionally goes wandering off from a structured path more than a little enjoyable.  And while it doesn’t fit with the Frisell 80s theme, it’s definitely an album I’m happy to recommend.  It’s also nice to hear a comparison between Lorenz’s later trio recordings and this earlier, quintet session.  What stands out to me is that, with the trio sessions, it’s the way the trio converses that’s the highlight, whereas with the Of the Woods quintet, it’s more about the topic of those conversations.  As with any story, sometimes the best part is the tale and sometimes it’s the way the tale is told.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Mike Cemprola (alto sax), Matt Mitchell (piano), Brian Howell (bass) and Matt Scarano (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

Listen to more of the album at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon | eMusic

*****

And the albums recommended above are only a few of what’s available.  Be sure to check out Lorenz’s other stuff.

Link Summary:  Artist site | Bandcamp | Soundcloud