Jazz Recommendations – 2015 Releases

Violinist John Garner has a new album out, and it’s pretty damn fun.  Blue Fields consists mostly of covers, and the few originals it does possess will likely leave you wishing that his quartet had contributed a few more to the playlist.

Most notable in that regard is the wispy loveliness of “Tiny Grass Is Dreaming.”  For such an unassuming presence, it has a huge song in its heart, and even when the volume goes up, the tranquility stays locked in place.  There’s also the blues heavy “Deep Mahon” with its boots on the ground presence and a determined forward momentum that takes its time getting to where it’s headed.  This nicely contrasts with a rendition of Joni Mitchell’s “Blue Motel Room,” which Garner’s quartet layers heavy with the blues, too, but lets the ballad do what a ballad does best by endowing it with a slowly swaying motion that needs never end.

The rendition of Joe Henderson’s “Caribbean Fire Dance” generates plenty of fury and the sense of things coming apart at the seams without sacrificing an innate tunefulness.  Even more intriguing, though, is the cover of Pearl Jam’s rock song “Jeremy,” which is given a smoky ambiance between fragmentary statements of the melody.

Also successful is a rendition of Lenny Kravitz’s pop song “Fly Away.”  It starts out weakly, following the path laid out by the original a bit too closely, but when the quartet breaks off from the melody, there’s an uptick in quality.  Most notable is the interaction between Toby Nelms and James Kenny on piano and bass.  Nelms’s solo drives the song into far more interesting territory, and the way Kenny’s accompaniment switches between spurring on and contradicting Nelms’s ideas is a huge bonus, and by the time Garner is halfway through a solo of his own, the song’s tepid opening is long forgotten.

A rendition of McCoy Tyner’s “Passion Dance” sees the quartet really breaking loose, both in terms of overall volatility, but also via Garner’s use of electronics.  Many of Tyner’s compositions from his classic 1967 release The Real McCoy are severely underused in today’s jazz songbooks, so it’s nice to see Garner not only taking a spin at it, but also sticking to the original’s game plan for the song’s first half.  It’s also nice when the quartet strays from the composition a bit and give it their own signature.  Drummer Dan Day really leaves his mark on this song.

At the opposite end of that spectrum, the album opens and closes with songs of a more gentle nature.  Garner begins with the introductions with a lovely rendition of Tan Dun’s title-track composition for the movie Hero, and he turns out the lights with a soundtrack rendition of a different sort… of Nobuo Uematsu’s “Blue Fields” for the video game Final Fantasy VIII.  The finale possesses a languorous beauty that fits the album to a tee, in all of its various states and all its various phases.

Go pick this one up.

Your album personnel:  John Garner (violin & electronics), Toby Nelms (piano, keys), James Kenny (double bass) and Dan Day (drums, percussion).

This album is Self-Produced.

Listen to album tracks at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Jazz from the London scene.

Available at:  Bandcamp | eMusic | Amazon

There’s an anthemic quality to Gran Coral, of embraceable songs that could thrive in the mainstream even while expressing the peculiarities and personality traits that target the ears of listeners who crave something a little different.  On his debut, drummer Carlos Falanga and his quartet carry this out by leading with potent melodies, the kind that sound familiar from the very first moment, and a series of inviting cadences that make it so simple and fun to follow right along.

Opening track “Tilos” is immediate evidence of this approach, possessing an infectious, playful bounce for a tempo and a melody that serves as both grand statement and launching pad for further exploration.  Title-track “Gran Coral” stays that course, as the quartet shifts down a gear and slips into an easy gait that is more representative of this body of work.

The way that Marco Mezquida switches between piano and organ is particularly appealing.  When piano, it’s a precise beauty cut from stone and when organ, it’s a hazy beauty shaped from clay.  In both instances, he relays the melody with a care and attention that speaks directly to the music’s immense charm.

On “Lombardo,” Mezquida’s piano turns the melody into an elastic object and Falanga’s drums prod the pianist on further by retrofitting the tempo to lock in to a framework that possesses an irresistible looseness, as if it the song might shake loose from its emerging form and become something else dramatically different.  “Blonde” does this, too, and adds a bit of twang to the mix, giving the beaming melody a wry smile.

It’s refreshing how Jordi Matas articulates the melody with short, crisp bits of dialog, shaping notes with his electric guitar as a series of stand-alone sounds that just so happen to string together and form a catchy little melody.  It occurs too often on too many recordings that the electric guitar is unleashed and then it becomes no longer about the melody itself but the intensity generated by eclipsing it.  Matas never lets that scenario play out on Gran Coral, and the album is much stronger for that decision.

Even on “Azul,” the sole album track that really shakes things up, the display of uninhibited expressiveness on electric guitar remains on the same page as the rest of the quartet on a song that is all about cool blues.

“59” is especially arresting in the way the quartet keeps building the song up by layering variations of the same melodic fragment, and giving the ear something familiar to hold onto while anticipating the slight changes the next expression will bring.  This, added to the buoyant tempo that maintains a casual ease even while moving at a brisk pace makes the tune something bordering on addictive.  “Memory of Water” takes a similar approach to layering, but it’s the harmonic washes that make it so compelling, and instead of addictive properties, it is far more likely to enchant.

On “Snus,” bassist Jaume Llombart makes his presence felt by answering the falling rain of Matas’s guitar with big splashes through the puddles.   They both follow the melody’s path, taking turns with organ as to whom grabs the role of recitation while the other writes the next chapter of the melody’s story.

The endearingly casual tempo and alluring, catchy melody of “Grown Garden” finishes the album off with the same qualities that served it so well throughout.  The concluding song adds a bit of a melancholy tone, providing a nice touch of dark clouds to these bright and sunny songs.

Just a real likable album, and for a debut, a very strong statement of promise for what’s to come.

Your album personnel:  Carlos Falanga (drums), Jordi Matas (guitar), Marco Mezquida (piano, organ) and Jaume Llombart (electric bass).

Released on Underpool Music.

Listen to more of this album at Underpool’s Bandcamp page.

Jazz from the Barcelona, Spain scene.

Available at:  Bandcamp | eMusic | Amazon

Pete McCann’s newest album starts out well enough.  Opening track “Kenny” leads out with a pleasant melody before the quintet politely takes turns surrounding it with solos that ring with a professional by-the-numbers precision.  “Seventh Jar” has a nice solo from pianist Henry Hey that seems to stretch the cadence by sheer force of will.  “Realm” shows McCann can run wind sprints on electric guitar and speak lyrically in the same breath.  “To the Mountains” generates some interest with its drifting melodic ambiance and a tempo that is content to be its mirror.

All in all, the recording’s first half makes a good account of itself and for those who enjoy a good modern jazz guitar session, Range won’t make anyone sorely disappointed for scooping it up.  But it also doesn’t do much to separate itself from the crowd, and it never really presents a sense of danger or risk.

But then the quintet comes out for the second half like a fire was lit under their instruments, and suddenly everything changes.

They make their pronouncement of change with “Mustard” and the way Hey’s organ just takes off and soars while McCann’s electric guitar shoots streaks of fire across the sky.  The lovely ballad “Numinous” sees McCann switching to acoustic guitar, and the song harkens back to a previous track, “To the Mountains” and its drifting ambiance.  But on “Numinous,” the quintet show no inhibition to scarring the surface of the serenity and forming a few cracks… a bit of atonality, some detached rhythmic patterns… that provide the song some personality to go along with its gorgeous exterior.

“Bridge Scandal” is all about sax and guitar seeing who can generate the most heat, while pianist Hey, bassist Matt Clohesy and drummer Mark Ferber give it shape and form.  Everyone makes a mess of everything, then pulls it all together and starts in on the next, fun mess.

And even those tracks that chart a course that more closely mimes the straight-ahead tunes from the album’s first half have more personality on the album’s latter half.  “Dyad Changes” and “Rumble “ have a greater expressiveness, whether be it the flourishes of Fender Rhodes or the punches in bunches delivered by saxophonist John O’Gallagher… the activity level is higher and there’s an ever-present sense that things could fly apart without warning.

The album ends with the enchanting “Mine is Yours.”  McCann switches to acoustic guitar for this one, and the sound he makes is like falling rain.  Complementing McCann on storm, O’Gallagher adds some flashes of lightning on sax, Ferber with gentle cymbal crashes the thunder, Clohesy’s bass is the splashing of puddles and Hey’s piano contribution is the promise of sunlight when the storm is over.

Even better than that element of surprise from the switch in demeanor on the album’s two halves is the anticipation of starting the album over again from the top.  Just as the opening songs to a recording can affect the reception of subsequent tracks, so too can the closing tracks affect the excitement of hitting the play button again.  Suddenly, those perfectly acceptable opening tracks are more than the stuff of just-another-jazz-guitar-recording… now they’re the lead-up to liftoff, when the musicians let loose, and technical precision transforms into a wild energy unleashed.

It’s a cool effect switching from cerebral, passive engagement to supercharged emotional connectivity.  It’s also a refreshing tactic to play one half off the other, leading, initially, to a fun bit of compare & contrast, but then, with time, the album’s components resulting in a greater appreciation for their opposite.

Your album personnel:  Pete McCann (electric & acoustic guitars), John O’Gallagher (alto sax), Henry Hey (piano, Rhodes and organ), Matt Clohesy (acoustic & electric bass) and Mark Ferber (drums).

Released on Whirlwind Recordings.

Jazz from NYC.

Available at:  Amazon