Jazz Recommendations – 2016 releases

What makes The Gravity of Our Commitment so damn thrilling isn’t just that it has the expanse of a sprawling epic, but how each passage is rich with so many details.  Opening track “You Can Not Fight” begins as modern big band jazz, flashes an indie-pop smile of math-rock teeth, and then just continually morphs into an increasingly unclassifiable blend of elements.  It’s a pattern that Toby Summerfield and his big band Never Enough Hope keep cycling through on their excellent new release, where modern jazz, classical, rock, folk, and minimalism are just the bullet points of a much deeper narrative.

And with “You Can Not Fight”, that story is the conflicted love affair between organic and electronic elements, and how sometimes they burst into flight as if joined at the wing, and then sometimes break into flurries as if battling for supremacy.  The rich harmonics of “You Are A Gift To Me” level off into a drone, the patter of melodic fragments are like droplets off its surface… until the songs flips and those melodic fragments become whole and steer the direction of the piece.  The title-track takes a slightly different approach.  Instead of a cloudy mix of influences that alternate the dominant position, “The Gravity Of Our Commitment” lets one after the other frame the scene, like the changing landscape from a train window.  “The Responsibility of Purpose” charts a similar course, but the changes between scenes are even more dramatic.

It can’t be emphasized strongly enough how important it is that this album maintains a consistent perspective and a sense of cohesion throughout.  Pulling off this kind of work isn’t simple by any means, and if there’s one common downfall, it’s the risk of each passage sounding detached one from the next.  Yet on The Gravity of Our Commitment, Summerfield and crew thread their vision from first note to last, no matter how extreme the music changes at every spot in between.

Seriously impressive work, exceeded by just how much fun it is to take in.

Your album personnel:  Toby Summerfield (conductor), Dina Maccabee, Erica Dicker (violins), Amy Cimini (viola), Kevin Davis (cello), Matt Bauder, Nick Mazzarella (alto saxes), Keefe Jackson, Nick Anaya (tenor saxes), Dan Bennett (baritone sax), Colin Stetson (bass sax), Jaimie Branch, Brian Lipson (trumpets), Nick Broste (trombone), Tacket Brown, Dan Sylvester (vibraphones), Ben Boye (piano, electric piano), Patty Farrell (accordion), Nathaniel Braddock, Bill MacKay, LeRoy Bach (guitars), Matt Lux (electric bass), Frank Rosaly, Tim Strand (drums) and Aram Shelton (studio effects).

Released on Milk Factory Productions.

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

Available at:  Bandcamp

On his solo project Layers, saxophonist Jared Sims overdubs an array of wind instruments for a series of nifty renditions of classic tunes.

Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” has a nice solemn tone, lacking none of the warmth.  The blues are prominent on the renditions of all three Hank Williams tunes, and the standout is “Jambalaya (On the Bayou)” and its infusion of a zydeco influence.  Sims takes Monk’s “Reflections” and gives it the treatment of a by-the-numbers ballad, whereas his take on Mingus’s “Duke’s Choice” is a deft use of the overdubbing techniques to give a winding staircase sound to a thoughtful, step-by-step motion.

There’s three Sims originals on the recording.  The lively “Stone Cold” has got plenty of heart, but it’s the soulful “Sax Preachin'” and “Mexico Ocean” where the feel really comes out on the tunes.

The wild-card track on Layers is an intriguing rendition of McCoy Tyner’s “Contemplation.”  Sims gives it that same melancholy tone, and with a tempo that mimics a heartbeat at rest, patient and calm and collected.

One of those under-the-radar albums that deserves to get some time in the spotlight.

Your album personnel:  Jared Sims (alto, baritone & soprano saxophones, clarinet, bass clarinet, and flute).

The album is Self-Produced.

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

Jazz from the Morgantown, West Virginia scene.

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon | eMusic

Those times that Kenji Herbert spins moonlight with other string instruments is the selling point on his The Way the Light Falls.  The guitarist presents the perfect dancing partner for harpist Maeve Gilchrist and violinist Alex Hargreaves, and the slow melt of their graceful waltz into a calm pool of serenity is the kind of thing that should really never end.  The folk and chamber influences provide a little bit of elegance and a rustic charm, and it’s why the album displays a well-rounded personality.

But also providing some essential balance are those tracks when it’s a quartet with saxophonist Dan Blake, bassist Chris Tordini and drummer Devin Drobka.  The flow of the album doesn’t change, nor does its prevailing serenity, but that little extra bit of edge keeps dreamy music from ever getting sleepy, not unlike how talkative rapids don’t temper the peacefulness of the river.  The heavy tranquility of “Unravel” and “Orchids” wouldn’t resonate nearly as strong were it not for the heat of “Dropka” and “Door.”

Contributing even more tonal color to the mix are Herbert’s collaborations with vibraphonist Yuhan Su and vocalist Julia Easterlin.  Where the former adds some lovely textural counterpoint to the guitar’s enchantment, Easterlin’s wordless vocals add thick harmonic washes as contrast to the deft use of extended pauses and silence.

Really, just a beautiful album.

Your album personnel:  Kenji Herbert (guitar), Dan Blake (soprano saxophone), Chris Tordini (bass), Devin Drobka (drums) and guests:  Maeve Gilchrist (harp), Alex Hargreaves (violin), Julia Easterlin (voice) and Yuhan Su (vibraphone).

Released on Inner Circle Music.

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

Jazz from the Brooklyn scene.

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon | CDBaby

This is an album with more emotion than its heart can contain.  And it’s a big heart we’re talking about, one that beats with a pulse of bold pronouncements, of majestic imagery, and of melodic cries that radiate all kinds of power and sincerity, and this is true whether cooed gently or shouted up to the skies.  The septet Moonbow comes out strong on their debut album, showing a controlled ferocity while roaming free and wild through wide open fields of genres and influences and forms of expression.

And, yet, even with all of the changes on When The Sleeping Fish Turn Red And The Skies Start To Sing In C Major I Will Follow You Till The End, there’s hidden within each tune a simple song and a sense of something traditional.  “Start to Sing” woozily drawls out some blues and “Fish” breaks into an interlude that hints at a bop theme burrowing underneath all of the loose play with tempo and disregard for the permanence of structure.  Or how about the drum solo that stops the huge wave of dissonance on “In C Major” in its tracks, and shifts the tonal qualities from anthemic indie-rock howls to the thoughtful ruminations of a late night jazz club.

But even with that thought in mind, this is music that reveres the voice that holds nothing back.

This is one of the most exciting albums I’ve heard all this year.

Your album personnel:  Danielle Dahl (alto sax), Mads Egetoft (tenor sax), Maciek Kadziela (alto sax), Lucas Leidinger (piano), Anton Jansson (guitar), Tomo Jacobson (double bass) and Kresten Osgood (drums).

Released on ILK Music.

Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Soundcloud page.  Also, on Bandcamp.

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon | eMusic