Sep 28 2013
Brian Haas & Matt Chamberlain – “Frames”
Stand in a field, surrounded by nothing, wrapped in silence, and all by your lonesome. Listen to the sound of music, carried upon the breeze from a distance far away. Fearing that it might dissipate before reaching you, your ear reaches out to meet it. It’s just a whisper. Some of the notes fall by the wayside before hitting your ear, but your brain kicks into action and fills in the gaps. The understanding that this music crossed a wide expanse gives it a sense of timelessness… like light from distant stars, it’s a sonic form of time travel. The understanding that this music, having traversed a wide expanse, is different from its original expression gives it a sense of formlessness… like blurry images seen from far away, this music could have sounded like just about anything.
But you do hear it and it does touch you, and its presence in that silent field, all by your lonesome has an evocative presence, a profound sense of something special… like a gift.
I remember sitting 7500 feet above sea level, at the top of Green Mountain, and listening to the distant sound of a brass marching band lifting up to me from down below in Boulder, at the University of Colorado’s football stadium. I remember standing outside my home in Denver in Five Points, and listening to the sounds of gospel drifting along a cool Spring breeze on a serene Sunday morning. I remember the unmistakable sound of Thelonious Monk’s piano straining to be heard from some untraceable source from any number of the windows lining the rows of apartment buildings in my Lakeview neighborhood pad in Chicago.
These were the thoughts inspired in me by Frames, the new album from Brian Haas and Matt Chamberlain. Touching upon a number of influences, spanning the range from the stride piano of Fats Waller, the melodic shape-shifting of Brad Mehldau, the modern electronica of Air, the haunting dreaminess of Bill Frisell, the modern classical austerity of a Nils Frahm, and the minimalism of Steve Reich and Brian Eno Music for Airports… it’s like music carried from a distance far away. And these influences don’t shape the music so much as whisper into its ear.
Your album personnel: Brian Haas (piano) and Matt Chamberlain (drums, percussion).
Brian Haas, a long-time member of the Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey, wrote these compositions not long after leaving Tulsa, Oklahoma behind and setting down roots in Santa Fe, New Mexico. This music speaks to that area’s Big Sky languor… the feeling of being simultaneously dwarfed by something much greater than you while also feeling very much a part of it all because of its proximity. The desert air instills a quiet over its surroundings, and it carries sound from very far away.
Matt Chamberlain has manned the drums for a disparate group of musicians, but most relevant in this instance has to be his contribution to the Floratone ensemble, a group that included Bill Frisell, Tucker Martine, Lee Townsend, Eyvind Kang, Ron Miles, and Viktor Krauss. Their music was a mix of jazz, folk, and electronica, and it sounded like all these things but, even more, it sounded like none of them. The ratios were perfected, and it sounded like something new. Their two albums had an ethereal presence that provoked a series of emotional reactions. It was like a soundtrack to a movie soundtrack.
Frames behaves in much the same way. The ambient sparseness of “Birth” develops quickly into a swirling tempest of melodic pattern repetition. “Niche” employs similar devices, but takes a more linear approach to reach its destination.
Both “Open Windows” and “Death: An Introduction” possess a comforting warmth… the former of darkness settling in over the land, and the latter of the rising sun chasing that darkness away.
The waltz-like formalism of “Prism” is followed by the swaying boisterousness of “Of Many, One,” and the shifting of kinetic motion seems natural, even logical. This transformation continues from the pounding tempo of “Drive” and into the mercurial contemplation of “Death: An Observation.”
“Closing Window” has a staggered gait that suddenly gets a second wind and takes right off. leading into the percussion downpour of “An Empty House,” in which Haas and Chamberlain chop up the beat into tiny servings.
The album ends with the introspective “From Nothing, Infinite,” a tune that barely registers as a whisper, and could be and come from anything.
Released on the Royal Potato Family label.
Music from the Santa Fe, NM scene.
Available to purchase on October 15th, 2013.
Pre-order the album from the Royal Potato Family site (before 10/15/13), and Brian Haas will improvise a piece of music based on your Personal Astrological Chart. Seriously. Details HERE.
Available at: eMusic | Amazon CD
I’ll update the links when the album becomes available on eMusic.
| Amazon MP3
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Oct 1 2013
AKKU Quintet – “Stages of Sleep”
Basing their album Stages of Sleep around the progression of a single night’s rest, the band mimics the state of body and mind through sonic expression, creating music that is ephemeral as dream and just as lively.
Your album personnel: Thierry Luthy (sax), Markus Ischer (guitar), Maja Nydegger (piano, Rhodes), Jeremias Keller (bass), and Manuel Pasquinelli (drums, glockenspiel).
Opening tracks “Lullaby” and “Falling Asleep” greatly convey that lightness of being that suffuses the body as it drifts off, eyes getting heavy. Melodies bright and comforting and sussurant. Luthy’s sax is a baby’s sigh, Pasquinelli’s percussion is the rattle of leaves in the trees, and everything sounds like moonlight.
“Light Sleep 1 & 2” riff on the changes in perception, as reality drops away, enveloped by a state of dream… an active mind contrasts with a still body, and dreams bring new contexts, different forms of engagement with ever-changing stimuli. Cadences switch up in the blink of an eye like changes of scenery in a dream. Melodies congeal then dissipate without warning. Luthy’s saxophone grows monstrous, then peaceful as a church mouse. Ischer’s guitar shifts from a woozy metronome to a sudden flash flood burst.
“Deep Sleep 1” features Nydegger’s warped notes and effects, as dreams become more concrete, the body is more entrenched in its state of repose, and the awareness registers everything as atypically strange… whether the tone is nightmarish or positively chipper. Keller’s bass is the thundering footsteps coming from around the corner on “Passing Into Deep Sleep 2” or, perhaps, representing a simple change in circadian rhythms. Luthy’s sax is a dove in flight, which leads into the twittering dynamo of “Deep Sleep 2,” a song that is at times both twitchy and a mind at ease. It gradually builds up to a frenzy, before dropping back off and into a calmer frame of mind.
The album ends with “REM Sleep” and “Waking Up.” The former has a staggered groove that seems caught between wanting to bop and wanting to rock out… and finding a satisfying way to do neither and both, in its way. The latter song begins with Pasquinelli sending out competing tides of percussion, but then slowly transforms into the melody from the opening acts… in the end, bringing things to a close in the place that they first began.
Just a real enjoyable album. This little discovery was my Find of the Week back in August, and I still find myself returning to it quite often.
Released on the Morpheus Records label.
Jazz from the Bern, Switzerland scene.
Available at: Bandcamp CD/Digital | eMusic MP3 | Amazon MP3
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By davesumner • Jazz Recommendations, Jazz Recommendations - 2013 Releases • 0