Dec 30 2015
Bird is the Worm Best of 2015: Albums 2-5
Today’s post reveals the 2nd through the 5th Bird is the Worm Top 30 jazz albums of 2015.
*****
A Best Of album has to hit me right in my heart and provoke a strong emotional reaction. A Best Of album has to engage my head and elicit a cerebral connection. Give me some intrigue. Show me your music has got personality. Extra points are awarded for doing Something Different. I want to hear music that embraces the best qualities of creativity. Strong musicianship alone is not enough. Many excellent albums fall short of earning a slot on the list. It literally pains me when I see some of the albums that aren’t included on my Best Of lists. But I listen to a lot of music, and one of the rare downsides to encountering so much great Jazz is that some of it won’t receive the recognition it deserves. So there you have it.
No matter how diligent a listener is and no matter how thoroughly that person covers the music scene, there will always be albums that slip through the cracks. The equation of scarcity of time vs. the overflow of music always leaves a trail of victims in its wake. It’s also a matter of subjectivity. I do my best to make objectivity the guiding force of all my decisions, judging each album’s qualities without consideration for my own personal preferences… at least, as much as I am humanly able. I can say for certain, my Best of 2015 list has ended up much different than my personal Favorites of 2015 list. No attempt to encapsulate the 2015 jazz recordings landscape will be fully comprehensive, but I humbly offer up my list with a confidence that these albums represent the best that 2015 had to offer. But it’s a list that’s likely to gain some addenda with the passing of time. The process of discovery never truly ends.
As with any Best Of year, 2015 is more accurately represented by the date range of November 1st, 2014 to October 30th, 2015. This ain’t no damn pop music… there’s definitely love at first sight with these recordings, but for a Best Of list, there’s gotta be some time allowed, also, for assessing the times for acclimation, absorption and endurance of these recordings.
What you’ll read below are not reviews. They are simple one-take thoughts, reminiscences, fragments of recollections, and brief opinions about how each album struck me both now and when I first heard it or anything I just felt like noting about the album as I quickly typed up these tiny synopses. I’ve provided a link to a more formal write-up following each entry, and that’s where you go to find out what’s what about each recording. Those write-ups are accompanied with embedded audio of an album track, as well as personnel and label information, links to artist, label, and retail sites, and anything else that seemed relevant at the time I wrote about the album. Follow those links. They might just lead to your next most favorite album ever.
So, with all that out of the way…
Let’s begin.
2. Rudresh Mahanthappa – Bird Calls (ACT Music)
This is not a Charlie Parker tribute album, though Parker’s music is the reason this album rolled out of bed. This is not a Charlie Parker covers album, though Parker’s music can be found in this music in one form or the other. Bird Calls is about the attachments and connections forged when an artist’s creative vision is a direct mainline to your heart, your brain, your soul… and when the source of inspiration is almost as overwhelming as all of the thoughts and feelings and imagery that result from the connection. Rudresh Mahanthappa plants seeds of fellow-alto-saxophonist Parker’s music in these compositions, then nurtures those seeds into a bloom all his own, often sounding nothing like the source material and often sounding very much planted in the modern day. In my original write-up of this recording, I mention that there is something very Now about Mahanthappa’s music and there is something very Next about it, too, and the way he’s able to bring the past into the fold is about as impressive as anything done in 2015. This album totally captures the spirit of what previous Album of the Year recipients have achieved… the simultaneous embrace of Jazz past, present and future, via past influence, present perspective and a mix of organics and technology, to create something that is both timeless and Now in a masterful display of top-shelf musicianship, undiluted creativity, and drop-dead, stunning beauty. This album has such a sharp intelligence, both in its formation and execution, and just as importantly… maybe even more… it’s all heart, too. Joining Mahanthappa on this recording are trumpeter Adam O’Farrill, pianist Matt Mitchell, bassist François Moutin and drummer Rudy Royston. I believe I’ve taken a moment on all of my previous #2 selection synopses to shake my head in disbelief that the album didn’t receive the top slot. Add Bird Calls to that list. Just an amazing recording, both in spirit and sound.
Read more on Bird is the Worm (LINK).
*****
3. Kamasi Washington – The Epic (Brainfeeder)
Okay, I’m not gonna get too deep right now into giving the rundown about how I feel about this album in this column. During the first week of January 2016, I’m gonna be publishing a series of columns that look back on 2015 with a year-in-review theme… and Kamasi Washington’s The Epic is gonna get a column all to itself. What I will say now is that this 3-part mini-series of hard bop, spiritual jazz and both old-school and new-school experimentalism with avant-garde jazz, soul and funk fusion comes as admirably close as one could ask of someone who used the word “epic” in the title of their recording. There’s a joyfulness to this music that so willfully embraces jazz’s past and present, both, that it’s hard not to fall for no matter whether you’re an old-school jazz fan or just a present-day-whatever-sounds-cool music fan. This music has got plenty of heart and soul, and when it smiles at you, you’ll know it means it.
Read more on Bird is the Worm (LINK).
Also, check back in on Jan. 2nd, when I talk more about this album in my 2015 In Review column.
*****
4. Prism Quartet – Heritage/Evolution Vol.1 (Innova)
So, the four saxophonists that comprise the Prism Quartet (soprano Timothy McAllister, baritone Taimur Sullivan, alto Zachary Shemon and tenor Matthew Levy) decided they’re gonna celebrate their thirtieth anniversary together by inviting a bunch of other saxophonists (Rudresh Mahanthappa, Miguel Zenón, Tim Ries, Steve Lehman, Dave Liebman and Greg Osby) to bring along some of their own compositions to the party. But instead of celebrating Prism Quartet’s anniversary, they instead celebrate their raison d’etre… the saxophone. What follows is a remarkable succession of pieces, where not only the endless beauty of the saxophone is captured by the Quartet and each guest, but also celebrated is the limitless possibilities to be tilled from each composition, and then nurtured through each musician’s potential to develop and give voice to their own, unique sound. With the gruffles and growls, the Steve Lehman pieces sound like Steve Lehman pieces, the Dave Liebman pieces are immediately identifiable to him with those sharp edges and abrupt pivots, the Mahanthappa pieces reveal their source creator either right at the outset or at well-placed intervals, Osby, yeah, that’s Osby for sure with the nifty shift between a solemn presence and that of punctuated phrases that see the value of the insinuation of force as havng greater effect than the execution of it, the Tim Ries piece with its dancing motions and delightful song form flirtations, and the Miguel Zenón pieces are marked both by his fluid lyricism and graceful motion. And perhaps most remarkable of all is the immaculate fluency of the Prism Quartet members in meshing seamlessly with each guest saxophonist and their creative vision. So many of these pieces have a huge presence and a jaw-dropping beauty, and are so often delivered with the noble grace of sacred music. It’s one of those recordings that you want to go on forever, and it almost does, and, of course, those closing notes still come too soon. These Best Of lists really call for a minimum twenty years of acclimation time to really judge how the albums from a particular year size up against one another. In twenty years time, I guarantee, this album will still have earned its #4 slot. Nor would it surprise me if this album was widely regarded as one of the top saxophone albums of the first half of the century. Just amazing work.
Read more on Bird is the Worm (LINK).
*****
5. Giovanni Francesca – RAME (Auand)
There’s this thing about Denver, Colorado sunrises in the wintertime. Due to some mix of influences of altitude, the sun’s zenith, the arc of the Rocky Mountains, the smog that accumulates in the foothills of the Rockies, and the way clouds seem to hang just above the ceiling of the downtown skyline… before the sun ever got out of bed, the darkest blue would just hang there and stare at you like a mirror reflecting the clean, undisturbed surface of the sea. Then, suddenly, different shades of blue would pock its surface, creating a rich display of how vast the color blue can spread its wings. This sudden transformation is startling to witness, as well as to ponder how something so nuanced can also possess such a massive beauty. The sky coasts along like that for awhile, allowing you to just exist under that gorgeous canopy for a half-hour eternity. And then, just as suddenly as the explosion of blues, suddenly the sky is shot through with streaks of dark pinks and powder reds… which, in turn, also just hang out there for a half-hour eternity, allowing you to marvel at it until, again, quite suddenly, huge washes of oranges and light reds and yellows materialize out of nowhere, with a huge presence and massive beauty, and only leaving when the fat yellow sun rises up over the horizon and sets the entire Rocky Mountain range aglow in its final act of sunrise. That is how the melodies of guitarist Giovanni Francesca’s RAME play out over the course of this terribly gorgeous album. A strong Frisellian influence hangs over this recording, and its an influence that Francesca carries well as he goes about creating his own exceptional and singular voice. It’s one stunning melodic transformation after the other, and the emotional punch this kind of effort generates is definitely not something to be undervalued. That, plus the album’s unconventional sound while doing it rates the recording an additional notch or three. Nothing but beauty here… a strange and curious beauty, but one that is awe inspiring as the best sunrise you’ve ever seen. Joining Francesca on this session is Alessandro Tedesco on tenor trombone, Dario Miranda on bass, Aldo Galasso at the drums (and a couple guests on horns and piano).
Read more on Bird is the Worm (LINK).
*****
Tomorrow’s post reveals the 2015 Bird is the Worm Album of the Year.
Check out the entire Best of 2015 List
Cheers.
***
What a very cool recording. Violinist Tomoko Omura takes well-known Japanese songs, both traditional and those of a more recent vintage, and rearranges them for a modern jazz quintet. That she’s taking well known songs from popular culture, it’s almost a given that each tune is going to come with it its own very catchy, very memorable melody cemented into place… and that Omura is able to seed her own renditions with these melodies and get them to bloom into something new and fantastic is a huge accomplishment. It would be so easy for a musician to get bogged down by the baggage of the originals and produce just another covers album, but Omura deftly avoids that complication and serves up tunes that can be traced back to the originals in a side-by-side comparison, but avoided all hints of mimicry and formulaic by-the-numbers construction in these imaginative takes. And not for nothing, Omura makes these tunes just as catchy as the originals even as her quintet takes those melodies into directions new and exciting and, perhaps, never envisioned by the original composers. That quintet, by the way, is rounded out by guitarist Will Graefe, pianist Glenn Zaleski, bassist Noah Garabedian and drummer Colin Stranahan… all of them playing these tunes like they grew up with them. Outstanding.
Oh good god, do I love it when a musician takes a big step up to a new plateau. I’m not looking to get into any pissing contest with hardcore Greg Foat Group fans looking to debate that all of his previous recordings are fucking awesome and this one is just another in a line of top recordings. His previous stuff is good. His first studio album, I liked it well enough to give it a warm reception. His first live performance recording I liked even better, thinking it showed more depth than that first studio recording, which sometimes seemed, at times, a little thin on substance. But this, their newest, it shines brilliantly as any diamond plucked from the ground, as much as the sun. Simultaneously a throw-back to 1970s psych-jazz and a look-forward to where spiritual jazz can go next, this excellent recording has a fullness of sound that can fill up the void of any empty heart and possesses a creative viewpoint as incisive and clear as the sharpest daydream you’ve ever had. Thick dreamy melodies with gentle harmonies to wrap them in and catchy grooves to carry them peacefully away all mark this wonderful recording. We’re getting into the territory of the Best Of list where it’s a very slight difference between the current slot and #1. The Dancers at the Edge of Time is not, in my opinion, the Album of the Year… but you betcha it got some serious consideration. It earned that consideration.
Considering the source material, or, perhaps, driven by it, Hofbauer’s take on Stravinski’s The Rite of Spring has a strange and curious personality. Notes and phrases are dealt out like a street denizen working angles and schemes and dishing out rumors and inside info on a patch of neighborhood. There’s a sense of in the know, and it’s a big reason that this unconventional music is so damn arresting and compels the ear to hang on to every word. Hofbauer and crew didn’t go into this project attempting to recreate the original work or cruise it as some genre-melding experience, but instead took a more abstract approach, looking at certain key elements for inspiration and the personal connections forged between listener and composer as launching points for new, creative inspirations of their own. The proof of this approach is bolstered by the number of shorter pieces on this recording, some that are merely fragments of ideas. Of great significance are how these fragments help to shape the flow of the music overall, and how Hofbauer’s quintet is able to take challenging ideas and concepts and present them in a way that are easy to absorb and embrace. But when it all shakes out, this strangely alluring music will provide no little intrigue whether you’re a classical music vet or a disinterested party just looking for something new and cool to pick up. Joining Hofbauer and his guitar on this session is trumpeter Jerry Sabatini, clarinetist Todd Brunel, cellist Junko Fujiwara and Curt Newton on drums & percussion.
Nobody comes even close to capturing the emotional power and resplendent tranquility of 
I’m a sucker for a good theme. The large ensemble Ghost Rhythms have made their own adaptation of the movie score to Vertigo, but told through the eyes of poor, troubled Madeleine. The movie has a sprawling landscape of sound and imagery, well suited to the cinematic milieu as well as the flow of Vertigo the movie, itself. Also, this large ensemble very much captures the spirit of many thrillers from the 50s and 60s, when orchestrated soundtracks were the thing and top-flight jazz musicians were the ones to voice them (see also Anatomy of a Murder to start). Up-tempo pieces stick to the suspenseful plot, as do the catchy melodies. That many of the harmonic washes are tinted with a touch of melancholy falls right in line with the theme’s Madeleine POV. But the thing about a concept album theme… for it to be truly successful, it has to transcend its inspiration, and be accessible to those listeners who first encounter the recording completely unaware of the music’s inspiration. Absolute foreknowledge and complete innocence need to be on equal footing the first time the play button is hit on that concept album, else one group is hobbled from truly enjoying the recording at first blush. Thankfully, Ghost Rhythms shows no difficulty accomplishing that task, and there’s absolutely no reason for you to rush on over to IMDB for some research before hitting the play button on this thoroughly absorbing, eminently enthralling album.
When I first heard this recording, what mostly grabbed me was how deftly drummer Bradley, pianist Taylor Eigsti and bassist Matt Penman captured the spirit of this HP Lovecraft themed album… the sense of mystery and hidden danger within the quaint & picturesque countryside… a sort of crosshatch of straight-ahead jazz warmth and rhythmic tension infused with some rock and pop action to boot. But over time and with repeated listenings, what startles me most about this excellent recording was, plain and simple, the top shelf musicianship. The interplay between the trio members, whether focused on a unified goal or wandering off in their own directions is about as masterfully executed as anything on this year’s Best Of list. This plus the vivid lyricism, sometimes emotionally jarring, sometimes gorgeous and sublime, is a huge reason for this album’s massive success. Each time I listen to this album, my esteem for it grows, and even as I type this on the eve of publishing my Best of 2015 list, slotting it at #11 doesn’t seem to do the album justice.
There’s a wonderfully foggy definition to this large ensemble chamber jazz recording from composer & saxophonist van Dijk. Heavy doses of strings and wind instruments at unexpected intervals keep the ear guessing at what is happening now, what’s coming next, and consequently, sits in a perpetual state of re-examination of what has come before. The fullness of harmony eclipses everything else at first, and it’s only over the course of time and listens that the deft melodic phrasing and playful rhythmic gifts fully reveal themselves. One beautiful moment after the other… some clear as day, some quite stunning when they slowly descend upon the ear.
By no means is this a conventional album. Cellist Reid seems to abide by her own rules of geometry, and all the tempos turned at strange angles and all the melodies twisted into unexpected shapes mark this recording as something wonderfully different. But the thing of it is, the odd math is only a subtext to the lovely motion that guides this recording with remarkable fluidity from first note to last. Reid is joined by bassist Jason Roebke, drummer Tomas Fujiwara and guitarist Mary Halvorson… three musicians who typically don’t utilize straight-ahead equations on their own projects, either. There’s a pleasant bounce to this music as it scoots along and zig-zags suddenly and heads for a horizon line before a sudden pivot reveals an entirely different horizon of possibilities. The quartet maintains a pretty active chatter, and it’s a big reason why the moody “The Long Wait” resonate so damn strong. I typically bemoan how albums in the #11-#13 slots don’t make my top ten. The talent pool has so much depth year in and out that some top ten quality albums land just outside looking in. Add this recording to that bunch.
I’ve put down more than a few words about the music of guitarist Jakob Bro on this site (and others), and without exception, it gets tagged with words like “tranquility” and “serenity”… and in bunches. And there’s good reason for that, since so much of his music possesses a lullaby quality that ushers in only sweet dreams after the final note has sounded. So, it’s a thrilling turn of events to hear him bring a much bigger, much louder sound with this tentet recording. He either doubles or triples-up with drummers, bassists and saxophonists, plus adds a keyboardist and his own guitar. The fine details are still there, but they’re wound up tight in thick harmonies, and they spring to life with the slightest flicker of a match. Adding intrigue to the mix is the occasional contribution of poet (and fellow Dane) Peter Laugesen, whose recitations provide a needed respite from the ensemble’s waves of intensity, but also whose deep register is almost a susurrant counterbalance to the wailing and shouting of instruments reaching for the skies. This music possesses a wild, crazy euphoria, and somehow Bro is able to bottle it up and serve it neat, no kick, no recoil. Outstanding.
Ben Goldberg seems to abide by his own rules of gravity. So many of his projects are unusual and so many of them seem destined to land him splat right on his face. But each time, he just nonchalantly navigates one unconventional project after the other, performing a balancing act that defies expectations… and gravity, too, it would appear. His most recent has him employing the words from a book about poetry written by a former mentor, and then focusing those words through the natural refraction of Goldberg’s curious mix of modern and traditional. It should be awkward. It should be challenging. It probably shouldn’t work. Yet each time I take this album for a spin, I’m perpetually amazed at the grace revealed with each motion, of how tuneful each of these songs (songs!) are, how simple Goldberg and crew make each song seem, and just how damn charismatic it all is. If the 2015 Jazz bin is a 1980s John Hughes flick, then Orphic Machine is the geeky kid who turns out to be the coolest dude in the room. Joining Goldberg and his clarinets for this session are trumpeter Ron Miles, tenor saxophonist Rob Sudduth, pianist Myra Melford, guitarist Nels Cline, vibraphonist Kenny Wollesen, bassist Greg Cohen and drummer Ches Smith.
There is something otherworldly about the melodic approach of John Zorn and his Dreamers ensemble (guitarist Marc Ribot, keyboardist Jamie Saft, vibraphonist Kenny Wollesen, drummer Joey Baron, percussionist Cyro Baptista and bassist Trevor Dunn), and the way they use it to evoke their own breath of serenity. This music has edge. This music has within it a voice that could shatter glass. If heat is needed, this music can provide it. Fire, too. Yet, there is an abiding sense of tranquility that never seems to stop informing the events as they play out, no matter how volatile they may become. Zorn & the Dreamers ensemble don’t strike out to new territory on this recording. It is a similar mix of jazz, surf, folk, rock, and mysticism. But with each subsequent recording, they keep revealing new, fascinating elements of that familiar ground.
I love how this album spans the time between something old and something new, how it sounds two feet in classic jazz territory even as it clearly leaves its footprints in the modern bop of today. As a listener, it’s easy to fall victim to the pull from both eras… wanting to hear something fresh and new while simultaneously desiring the comfort of reliving the music that initially got things rolling. Clarinetist Sadigursky negates that decision by supplying the elements of both. His clarinet’s enchanting dancing motion is complemented excellently by Chris Dingman’s vibes and marimba, and it’s like watching fireflies twirl about on a Summer eve. And with pianist Bobby Avey and drummer Jordan Perlson giving the music some weight and presence, the music’s spry action is nicely counterbalanced by a low center of gravity, providing the music both sky and soil, flight and foundation. All of this, plus each song on the album is so damn tuneful, this music just never grows old, always giving a charge of electricity with the very first notes of the very first track. So good.
This album isn’t a huge departure from some of Horvitz’s past recordings that are directly influenced by chamber and folk. It’s a sound similar to what we’ve heard before. But where past recordings in this vein have suggested possibilities and provided glimpses of avenues for exploration, Some Places Are Forever Afternoon embodies a fullness of that vision, a complete manifestation of that sound in its totality. With the theme of a poet and the photographs of Montana territory that capture the environment that poetry was created within, Horvitz’s 2015 release is eminently picturesque, its music bathed in imagery of flowing green fields, pocked with the mud and ice of winter’s scars and bounded up by snowcapped mountain ranges on distant horizons, of endless highways marked by backroad motels and taverns and off-road cabins found at the end of winding dirt trails. Melodies are delivered crisply, but the lovely harmonies give them a fuzzy presence, not unlike the faint glow of sunlight as it casts itself out across the floor and instills a gentle hush in the room. Joining Horvitz and his piano & keyboards are Ron Miles on cornet, Sara Schoenbeck on bassoon, Peggy Lee on cello, Tim Young on guitar, Keith Lowe on bass and Eric Eagle on drums, thus combining his chamber music Gravitas Quartet and his jazz-folk Sweeter Than the Day ensemble… a match that takes Horvitz’s compositions to an entirely new plateau. Horvitz has his own brand of tranquility, no matter what project he’s working on… it always has qualities that can be traced back to his singular vision. This session gives that tranquility a life and beauty like none before.
I eagerly look forward to each new Orrin Evans recording. In a talent pool that’s plenty deep, he’s slowly distinguishing himself as one of the best on piano today. His recordings tend to remain in bop territory, and when he does utilize outside influences, he brings them into his gravitational pull rather than venture out to gather them in. That’s why on this excellent trio set with bassist Christian McBride and drummer Karriem Riggins, he can hit notes that are straight-ahead, traditional and modern both, while also getting in expressions that take paths through R&B, hip hop, country and pop music territories, and it’s cohesive package that clearly originates from one perspective. The live set behaves as an encapsulation of Evans’ past work, of everything that led up to this moment in time… an avenue for reviewing the past by way of defining the state of his sound today. That characteristic comes through strong. This, plus some masterful technique displayed by the trio is why this lively set has such a huge presence. If you’re looking through these lists for a jazz piano album, you can’t do better than this one here.
This album is pure tranquility. Comprised of the guitars and banjos of Machtelinckx, the guitar of Hilmar Jensson, the tenor sax and clarinets of Joachim Badenhorst and the bass of Nathan Wouters, this quartet dives head-first into one dreamy melody after the next as they give shape and form to their particular brand of folk-jazz. The music is sparse, using few words as it conjures up vivid imagery to last a lifetime. Even when the rhythm develops a bit of a chatter, it never comes anywhere close to cracking the thick serenity. The thing that has worked in its favor in the year since it was released is that so many of the albums that traverse this territory rely on ambiance or cinematic vagueness to create the environment from which the serenity gradually emanates… but this quartet works their magic through the use of definitive song structures, of melodies that ring with clarity, with a percussive approach that feeds into them, and the strong sense of intent and direction. That’s why this album has staying power where similar albums might fade from memory over time, and it’s why this beautiful album stays beautiful no matter how long or how often it sees the light of a play button. Simple songs that evoke complex imagery and emotions. Just gorgeous music.
Dec 31 2015
Bird is the Worm 2015 Album of the Year: Chris Lightcap’s Bigmouth – “Epicenter”
*** The Bird is the Worm 2015 Album of the Year ***
Chris Lightcap’s Bigmouth – Epicenter
(Clean Feed Records)
It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered an album that synthesizes the mix of modern influences into a jazz recording like Chris Lightcap’s Epicenter. It is both a statement on where things are at and a forward-thinking treatise on where jazz could next go. It’s a vision of massive clarity and of unified precision. It’s not a process of add a little bit of this and a little bit of that and let’s see how you can mess with these different influences and shift things around and bring out different elements… that type of approach is well and good, but much in the same way of Todd Sickafoose’s 2008 release Tiny Resistors before it, Epicenter is the total picture. It’s the unified theory on This Is Jazz Today and also with the possibilities of the next step forward. Epicenter is a fully realized expression that it exists on its own, and it’s to be expected that other projects, other albums and compositions will gravitate to it as the realm of possibilities is revealed to be as much a consequence of creative pragmatism as it is the manifestation of unbounded imagination.
It’s your Bird is the Worm 2015 Album of the Year.
Here is a reprint of the album recommendation I wrote earlier this year…
*****
He leads right out with this talent on album-opener “Nine South.” Craig Taborn‘s keyboard is a whirling dervish of melody, shifting gears at well-timed moments to allow the tiniest pregnant pauses to color his hypnotic tempo. And this opening scene is then shot through with thick, distinctive harmonies from the duo tenor saxophone tandem of Tony Malaby and Chris Cheek, their long exhalations melting right into Taborn’s lines. And when Lightcap and Gerald Cleaver strike up a conversation on bass and drums, that propulsive chatter binds three into one, and is the difference between a roomful of competing conversations and the convergent flow of lyrical dialog so typical of Lightcap’s recordings. Yet, within his imaginative constructs, that fluidity allows the time and space for soloists to stretch their legs and a safe place to land when they return to earth. Lightcap creates a curious type of modern jazz, but it’s one where the conventional and familiar is just as able (and likely) to thrive as his more avant-garde leanings.
What’s notable about Epicenter is how much more daring and confident Lightcap sounds expressing his unique vision. On “White Horse,” he switches out bass for acoustic guitar, and the droning harmony of saxophones elicits a gorgeous melodic sigh that grows more brilliant as the ensemble jacks up the intensity. At two minutes in length, the relatively short duration would almost get it considered as simply an interlude were it not for its raw emotional power. That it transitions so effortlessly to the jaunty bop of title-track “Epicenter” is yet more evidence of how strong a guiding force the music’s flow is over the proceedings.
“Arthur Avenue” is the sign that the new divergence of “White Horse” wasn’t a one-off event. Following a contemplative bass and brushes intro, Taborn adds some mesmerizing calm of his own with equally introverted keystrokes. When Malaby and Cheek enter with long, flowing melodic sighs, the song becomes a lesson in the way a full moon on a dark night can be the prettiest and saddest thing ever. Very different emotions are evoked by the intense “Down East.” With its driving tempo and tightly channeled melody, it’s an anthem for a revolt, a shout-to-the-skies statement of protest. It’s also yet more evidence that Lightcap has shed himself of any obstacles impeding his imagination, not to mention his willingness to follow a creative vision and trusting in his ability to fly if it means jumping off a cliff. He is making something truly unique here.
“Stillwell” gets back to Lightcap’s quirky post-bop style. Notably, the track displays the song-like delivery inherent (though not always easily apparent) in his music. Perhaps it’s a result of the way he shapes the music’s flow or perhaps it’s the adherence to the idea of song for song’s sake that leads to the supremely fluid motion that resonates so strongly from his music… but causation aside, he brings it front and center on “Stillwell.”
The drifting ambiance of “Stone by Stone” possesses a serious potency, and its allure is that the ear continues to believe in the song’s state of serenity even as the two saxophonists raise up their voice in harmony while intertwining their melodic lines with Taborn’s hopscotch pattern on keys. Cleaver and Lightcap’s rhythmic touch is that of a river’s susurrant calm. And though it’s the melodic mainline punched into the heart of this song that is going to draw immediate attention, it’s the way the song carries those melodic fragments from first note to last, commingling them into one interrupted flow of ideas that is the key component to this song’s, this album’s preeminent success.
Bigmouth brings the curtains down with a massively fun rendition of Velvet Underground & Nico’s “All Tomorrow’s Parties.” They give the song a huge presence, and hang their hat square on the melody, and just go to town turning the song into their own while celebrating the original. This mix of modern jazz and classic rock, of old and new united, and of bringing yet one more daring, unexpected form of expression into the album’s fold… it’s an inspired way to close the album out and embodies so much of the spirit of this excellent recording.
Everybody should own this album. Everybody.
Your album personnel: Chris Lightcap (bass, acoustic guitars, organ), Craig Taborn (piano, electric keyboard, wurlitzer, organ), Tony Malaby (tenor sax), Chris Cheek (tenor sax) and Gerald Cleaver (drums, percussion).
Released on Clean Feed Records.
Visit the artist site.
Jazz from NYC.
Available at: eMusic | Amazon
| Direct from Clean Feed Records
*****
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By davesumner • Recap: Best of 2015 • 4