Nov 14 2013
Tim Horner – “The Head of the Circle”
Every year, there are a handful of outstanding albums that offer up brilliant melodies that reveal, one after the other, like massive fireworks at a celebration. The kind of thing that lets the ear immerse itself in the current song while anxiously wondering what the next might bring… and when it finally arrives, experiencing no less surprise at its strength or vibrancy, even when taking into account the album’s impressive track record.
The Head of the Circle, the new release by drummer Tim Horner is one of those albums for 2013.
Your album personnel: Tim Horner (drums, percussion, vocal), Joe Locke (vibes), Jim Ridl (acoustic piano), Steve Allee (accordion, Hammond B3, Fender Rhodes), Ted Nash (tenor & soprano saxes, bass clarinet, flute), and Dean Johnson (acoustic bass).
In a touch of irony, this album opens with an interlude that is more about rhythm, lacking any substantial melodic intent. The dramatic burst of flute slips into percussive murmuring, a conversational aside that serves as a precursor to an album of direct statements and on-message melodies.
“The Dance” gets right to it. A beautiful melody stated with just the right touch of gravitas, developed with a masterful touch by vibraphonist Joe Locke and bass clarinetist Ted Nash, who balance one another out like the light and dark halves of a crescent moon, and add to the song an inspiring loveliness to match.
“Awakening” is no different in terms of its melodic effusiveness, but this time the composition is presented with an uninhibited casualness that makes it so easy to just sink into. Ridl and Allee trade notes with one another when they’re not creating individual tethers to the other cast members. It creates an intoxicating sonic crosshatch. And it seems only natural when Horner and Johnson steer the song into a bit of a groove, as if the melody had been leading up that moment right from the start but chose to delay the big reveal.
“Listen and You’ll See” and “Requiem” are two views of rainy-day music. On the former, it’s a view from a window as the storm comes down. On the latter, it’s stepping outside as the storm reaches its conclusion, with Nash’s sax as a ray of sunlight cutting through the clouds.
The ballad of “I Wish I Knew You” has sax and vibes walking hand-in-hand on separate paths, an incongruity and connectedness that makes for an exquisite compare and contrast. That effect continues of “Mandala,” an up-tempo track that, curiously, comports itself with a brooding disposition.
“Frugal Meal” features Johnson using his bass to shape the melody in that way shadows shape the sunlight when it touches solid ground. Nash’s bass clarinet sings with a resonant loveliness at the same moment the song becomes increasingly chipper.
“The King” lets the group blow off some steam, allowing the groove to carry the melody for a change, and raising the album’s temperature a degree or three.
The album ends with the same bit of irony with which it began. “Ta Da” is, easily, the most free of any of the album’s tracks, pushing back against the concept of form as if a revolt by rhythm against the structural confines of melody. Locke and Allee trade jabs on vibes and Rhodes while Horner’s drums strike furtively, both as a whisper and with a bang. Ultimately, by sandwiching all of those strong melodies between two tracks built on foundations of rhythm, comparatively, it illuminates their beauty all the more.
Released on the Origin Arts label.
Jazz from the Jersey City, New Jersey scene.
Download a free album track at AllAboutJazz, courtesy of the artist and label.
Available at: eMusic | Amazon: CD & MP3 | Directly from Origin (CD)
Nov 18 2013
Myra Melford – “Life Carries Me This Way”
Regardless of the project, pianist Myra Melford has always possessed a conversational style. As a member of Trio M, her bursts of keyboard chatter fit seamlessly with the drums and bass of Matt Wilson and Mark Dresser… two artists who also thrive in creating fluid motion from the raw material of crisp statements expressed in bursts of energy. This style also has suited her well in collaboration with clarinetist Ben Goldberg, both in live performance and also as part of her Be Bread ensemble (which also includes Matt Wilson)… Goldberg’s stylistic expressions match well with Melford’s quirkiness, and the odd melodic beauty they shape with rhythmic patterns that scurry and scrape across the landscape of a tune are terrifically engaging in that way improvised dialog can shatter expectations and inspire new ones.
And it’s especially important not to overlook her Trio and Extended Ensemble recordings for hatOLOGY, in which punches are thrown in bunches, the blues coexists peacefully with avant-garde expressionism, and stormy rhythmic fronts occasionally part clouds to make room for exquisite melodies to slip through. And at the other end of the spectrum, Melford’s duo recording with fellow-pianist Sakoko Fujii found gentle ways to create environments of chaotic discourse.
And these are just some of the highlights of a performing career that has contributed to projects that typically develop out of sight of the main thoroughfare and which possess an impressive array of original works. It’s why it’s so hard to believe that this is truly Melford’s first solo effort.
On Life Carries Me This Way, Melford pays tribute to her friend, artist Don Reich, who passed away in 2010, and whose work is the inspiration for the album’s songs. The personal nature of her connection to the source of the music’s inspiration, the association with existing creative works in the form of paintings, and the intrinsic challenges faced by any musician in a solo setting have resulted in a recording as beautiful as Melford must have intended it to be, and insightful to the listener to hear a facet of Melford’s music that hasn’t often come to light when she has other musicians in the room to converse with.
Your album personnel: Myra Melford (piano).
On Life Carries Me This Way, Melford doesn’t state the melodies so much as slowly exhale them, like plumes of smoke that mask their final shape until fully revealed. Though that’s not to say that Melford’s deft use of her instrument’s percussive qualities is abandoned. On “Park Mechanics,” Melford opens with a demeanor akin to the sunnier side of town, but grows increasingly agitated with flurries of notes. Not unlike many of her contributions to other projects, the melody is to be discovered in fractured glimpses seen between rhythmic lines. And on “Piano Music,” her quirky expressiveness assumes a fluid motion that behaves as a story told with an indescribable chronological order.
However, the heart of the album shows itself on melancholy tracks like “Red Beach” and “Red Land (for Don Reich).” Melford whispers the melody as if from across the room… bits and pieces are captured by the ear, and imagination fills in the rest. “Japanese Music” is offered up as missives, glittering, as tiny sparks of emotion, whereas “Curtain” is equally obtuse, yet exists at the opposite end of the spectrum, delivered in a deluge of notes in which a little bit of the melody is everywhere all at once. And then there is the quietly musing “Moonless Night,” which unfolds with an old soul patience.
Intriguingly, there are a couple tracks that adopt these two characteristics, yet end up sounding derived from neither. The quirky inclinations and declinations of “Attic Music” behave like a melody skipping across a landscape of rolling hills, and “Sagrada Familia” tumbles in tight circles, concerned with form through slight differentiations in the folds.
In many ways, the music of this album comes closest to resembling Melford’s duo collaboration with reedist Marty Ehrlich, an artist who very much fits in stylistically with aforementioned artists like Ben Goldberg and Matt Wilson, and who has a proven talent for eliciting the melodic sensibilities of those he collaborates with. A recording like Spark shares many of the qualities mentioned thus far, with its comforting tone even when expressing discomfited ideas, and its easy comportment when faced with plenty of space to fill and the immediate understanding of just the right amount of sound to enhance it.
The album ends with “Still Life,” perhaps the most song-like of all the album tracks. Aside from the allure of its elegance and abounding warmth, the presence of its easily traceable shape provides a sublime palpable finality to an album of strong undercurrents, sensed, but often indirectly.
A beautiful recording.
Released on the Firehouse 12 Records.
Jazz from the Berkeley, California scene.
Available at: Bandcamp CD&Digital | eMusic | Amazon CD & MP3
The CD version includes photos of Reich originals.
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By davesumner • Jazz Recommendations, Jazz Recommendations - 2013 Releases • 0