On drummer Allison Miller‘s previous recording with her trio, Boom Tic Boom, had Miller’s drums as the ringleader, with pianist Myra Melford and bassist Todd Sickafoose enthusiastically getting swept up in the Miller’s compelling rhythmic approach… a vortex with personalized quirks and eccentricities to give it a choppy motion and staggered cadence.  But there were sudden departures, whether it be the inclusion of a guest violin for a swaying track or the few tracks where the trio would duck under the enveloping canopy of Melford’s comforting melodic expressions.  Overall, it was an album with a frenetic bounce interspersed with moments of delicate drift.

With her newest release No Morphine, No Lilies, Miller breaks loose from that mold.  With the same trio at its core, it remains an album based on rhythm, and Miller’s personal sound continues to develop in a recognizable way, but that voice is expressed with greater exuberance and a wider expanse.  Not just more facets to her music, but larger ones that allow greater light to shine through.

The result is an introduction to all the new possibilities where her music might take the listener, now and into future projects.

Your album personnel:  Allison Miller (drums), Myra Melford (piano), Jenny Scheinman (violin), Todd Sickafoose (bass), and guests:  Steven Bernstein (slide trumpet), Ara Anderson (trumpet), Erik Friedlander (cello) and Rachel Friedman (vocals).

Opening track “Pork Belly” transitions from a diffuse ferocity to a thick groove, shifting between the type of modern jazz that situates itself in territory that once belonged solely to the free improv musicians and into music that incorporates rock and reggae influences.  And, yet, even with all of the sudden changes in tone and tempo, there exists a consistent sense of party-time attitude… an attitude expressed in a variety of ways in the song’s five and half minutes duration.

This leads into second track “Early Bird,” which lacks the celebratory demeanor of the previous track, but the duo of Sickafoose’s bass and Friedlander’s cello add a mischievous quality to the music, and it wouldn’t be out of place on a Sickafoose Tiny Resistors performance, which is often characterized by elements that could be described as impish and playful.

Third track “Waiting” leads out with Melford’s piano, but as the song progresses, all three trio members walk side-by-side, each with their own particular gait, but in concert, as they head for the final note.  A peaceful tune, similar to moments on their previous album Boom Tic Boom, but the trio’s voicings simultaneously give it a larger presence and differentiates it from Miller’s previous album.

“The Itch” has a cheerful bounce.  Guest Anderson’s trumpet is the primary instrument of buoyancy, but the odd tools of percussion Miller employs help push the exuberance from the opposite end.  “Speak Eddie” keeps the exuberance going, with Bernstein’s slide trumpet getting things moving, then trading quips with Melford on piano.  While clearly a modern composition, there are strains of traditional jazz played out here, which may be directly traced to Bernstein’s contribution to the song; Bernstein has often displayed a deftness at fusing old and new into something that sounds, well, both old and new.

“Six Nettes” continues the up-tempo mode.  Melford runs up and down flights of stairs on piano.  Sickafoose’s bass is the echo of her footfalls.  Miller’s cymbals are the sound of frantic breathing.

“Spotswood Drive” gets Scheinman’s violin into the spotlight, a quavering ballad, a love song for the perpetually frantic.

“Once” is a Jessica Lurie composition from her album Megaphone Heart.  With Rachel Friedman making her sole appearance on vocals, she brings all the heartbreak and longing of the Lurie original, as does the trio, letting the song crackle with life and hope.

“The Kitchen” is a storm passing overhead.  From a distance, it starts as a simple affair, a straight-forward statement of thunder and lightning.  But as the clouds approach, the music becomes a torrent of falling rain, receding only when the clouds move off to the horizon, becoming, once again, simple statements of thunder and lightning, growing faint and distant.

“Sun Comes Up the Reservoir” is, arguably, the prettiest song on the album.  Between the gentle cymbal crashes, the lullaby violin, thoughtful piano expressions, and raindrop notes on bass, it instills a serenity that reflects the song title, not to mention Miller’s inspiration for the tune… a chance meeting with Paul Motian while on a morning run.

The album ends with the polar opposite of the previous song.  “Nuh-Uh, No Sir” is a runaway train of rhythm and volume.  Trumpet and violin create some wonderful moments of interplay in the midst of a hurricane of percussion and dissonance.

An album of quality music.  And one of those recordings that doesn’t, actually, make a definitive statement.  It’s a roadmark in a developmental arc that will be best appreciated when the arc is completed.  Typically, those arcs, in Jazz, can be measured in threes.  With No Morphine, No Lilies serving as the second of that possible arc, it’s just further evidence of the promise that lies ahead.

Released on the Royal Potato Family label.

Jazz from the San Francisco scene.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | Vinyl

*****

And speaking of that three-album arc, be sure to pick up Miller’s last recording, the “first” recording of that arc, Boom Tic Boom, mentioned above:

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

The last time cellist Will Martina got together with the trio of pianist Jason Lindner and drummer Richie Barshay, they created the 2011 release The Dam Levels, an unconventional cello-led trio that sounded remarkably like a modern straight-ahead jazz recording.  And though it didn’t much swing, there was plenty of rhythms to bop the head along to in a structure of delineated melodies.  It was a powerful statement about the potential of cello as a plausible game-player in the modern jazz environment.

Now, returning with the same trio for the 2013 release Modular Living By Design, Martina expands on previous statement by pushing the envelope by straying from jazz’s center but remaining in sight.  Whereas on The Dam Levels, the journey seemed predicated on the rhythmic structures, on Modular Living By Design, the mode of travel is via strong melodies… and from there, the inventive use of rhythm just falls into place.

Your album personnel:  Will Martina (cello), Jason Lindner (piano, Rhodes), Richie Barshay (drums, percussion), and guests:  Jorge Continentino (soprano sax), Mark Kelley (bass), and Gregoire Maret (harmonica).

Opening track “Strung Out Night Light” begins with a pulsating melody stated in harmony by Martina on cello and guest soprano saxophonist Jorge Continentino.  But as the song proceeds, it becomes something of a throwback to The Dam Levels.  It thrashes about at times, tempo and intensity rising, even as guest bassist Mark Kelley teams with Barshay’s drums to entrench a groove into the song’s underside.  The song doesn’t completely belong on the previous album, doesn’t completely belong on the newest… by itself, a nice opening track, and for those familiar with Martina’s previous release, it has the additional value as effective transition between recordings… something of a “… seen on the last episode of…” effect.

However, second track “Modular Living” gets down to current business.  It begins with a contemplative tone, stamped in place with some powerful statements by Lindner on piano.  And then, with Martina taking on the role of bass player and Barshay modulating the cadence on drums, the trio slips into a thick groove.  Some growl, a tiny bit of ferocity, and the kind of self-contained intensity that brings heat without causing burns.  It’s a phenomenal midstream quick-change… alone, a nice moment, but remarkably, that trend continues.

Third track is a rendition of the Bon Iver song “Michicant.”  It stays true to the original, opening with a ballad-like grace.  Lindner’s piano with a few simple statements, Barshay’s drums a gentle patter in the background.  Martino states the melody, a languid expression of beauty.  Then it, too, slips into a groove… though this one has a lighter touch… a lullaby that one could dance to.

Fourth track “Little Meow” lets Martina stretch out some.  Beginning peaceably in duo between Martina and Barshay trading beats, Lindner steps in and gets things going melodically, and stretches out a bit himself.  Eventually, when Martina steps back into the spotlight, he conjures a tempest on cello.

Fifth track is the second of two tracks that add guest musicians to the trio.  Maret leads out on harmonica, and Martina let him keep the lead from gate to finish line. Lindner balances out the harmonica’s brightness with some darker shading on piano.

“Thanks, Henry” opens with piano out front, Martina serving as defacto bass player.  The trio exudes serenity.  Barshay and Lindner trade some rhythmic quips here and there, interesting chatter delivered under their breath.

The album ends with even more serenity.  “Good Night and Good Luck” has Martina offering languid notes on cello.  Percussion and Rhodes are like the twinkling light of far-away stars.  And just in the way that the opening track signaled the beginning of the transition from the sound of The Dam Levels to Martina’s current vision, “Good Night and Good Luck” symbolizes the finality of that change… a lovely drifting melody, a tranquil ambiance and an unhurried cadence.

Just beautiful.

The album is Self-Produced.

Originally from Australia, Martina is now calling the Queens, NY scene as his own.

Available at:  CDBaby Digital | Amazon MP3

*****

And in case you’d like to check out Martina’s prior album, mentioned above, The Dam Levels, here’s some links:

Download a free album track at AllAboutJazz, courtesy of the artist.  And here’s what I wrote in my Editor’s Comments, back when I was the AAJ download of the day editor:

Highly recommended. I bought this album pretty much immediately. One of those albums that, on its face, seems like a straightforward affair, but it differs just a bit in a very essential way as to make it a reflection of conventional jazz. Just as a reflection of an image on the water’s surface is even more compelling than the image itself, so is my reaction to The Dam Levels.

Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: CD | MP3

Aromes d’Ailleurs, the intoxicating new album by the Bomata trio, has an irresitable brooding disposition, even when the sound gets a bit chipper.  This is not unexpected, because clarinet can be made to sound just like moonlight as it can a bright ray of sunlight.  Now add to that mix a bass that knows how to sing and percussion with a dynamic nuance, and the resulting concoction transforms a pensive demeanor into a state of elegance, replete with a sunny warmth to contrast with music of cloudy skies.  Guest appearances on piano and additional percussion add some welcome texture to the affair, and offer a little extra punch to the music’s emotional impact.

Your album personnel:  Guillaume Bourque (clarinet, bass clarinet), Jean Félix Mailloux (bass), Patrick Graham (percussion), and guests:  Jérôme Beaulieu (piano), Philippe Melanson (drums), and Ziya Tabassian (percussion).

Overall, a consistent album in terms of sound cohesion, but it does shift within that framework.  There’s some influence from music of the Middle-East and the Mediterranean, but, ultimately, it eludes definitive categorization.

Tracks like “Nuit Blanche” and “Somnambule” epitomize the brooding element of this recording.  Bourque’s soulful statements on bass clarinet pair well with Beaulieu’s pensive expressions on piano.  Mailloux cries out on bass, an arco message of quavering resonance.  Graham’s percussion possesses the fluidity of a river, the crash and shake of rapids over rocks.

But it’s not all cloudy skies.  “Sesame” has an upbeat nature.  Clarinet rises up like thick smoke, incited to greater heights by percussion.  Bass, which perhaps began as a motivating force, rises up to join clarinet’s elevation by song’s end.  Opening track “Au Parc” also maintains a cheerful disposition, each instrument getting the opportunity to let their voice rise above the others, but always accompanied by complementary chatter.

“Chinoiseries” has a deliberate pace, though this is belied by some very active percussion… not unlike an early-morning sleepy face crowned with a head of crazy bed-hair.  As wakefulness grows, so does the song’s intensity, rising to a fevered pitch.  “Jamine” also moves at a steadied gait, and in this instance, maintains it evenly throughout.  On “Sabzi,” the deep sway of bass clarinet is crosshatched with the spinning wheels of percussion.  And on album closer “Genmaicha,” bass arco sweeps back and forth across the tilled soil of percussion.

A very happy surprise to have happened upon this album, and I wanted to get some print down for it.

The album is Self-Produced.

Jazz from the Montreal, Canada scene.

Available at Bandcamp.  Available at eMusic.  Available at Amazon: MP3