Mar 4 2013
Elin Larsson Group – “Growing Up”
There is a deliberate pace to the new recording by the Elin Larsson Group that is exquisitely satisfying, a careful preponderance of cadence and ferocity that makes this a winning album. Especially in the context of their 2011 release Let You In, which was a little ball of excitement that kept a brisk pace, but which left me wistful for an album that toned done some of the herky-jerky motions, and, instead, settle into something of a casual groove.
On their 2013 release Growing Up, the Elin Larsson Group takes things nice and slow. Well, relatively speaking, that is. It should be mentioned that this doesn’t reflect a tamping down of the fiery music that so enamored me to their previous release. There is still plenty of heat.
Your album personnel: Elin Larsson (saxophones), Kristian Persson (trombone), Henrik Hallberg (guitar), Niklas Wennström (double bass), and Johan Käck (drums).
Opening track “Falling Into Pieces” gives ample proof of the prevailing heat on this recording… but even here, the expressions of melody allow for a slight depression on the gas pedal, and this provides just a faint hint of contrast that goes a long way to supplying the kind of texture to keep the ear intrigued.
Second track “Monster” displays the formidable touch and easy pace that kicks this recording up a notch. Not a ballad by any means, but there is an easy sway to the music, in that way waves can appear languid atop rough seas. So that even when the temperature rises, the pace of the music maintains a restrained pace. It’s an appealing juxtaposition.
And tracks like “Slowly Slipping Out of My Hands” continue the gentler pace adopted for this recording, as well as “Endings,” which opens with a languid guitar drift, sounding like early Bill Frisell. When sax and trombone enter, they appear completely at ease with the ethereal interface.
It should also be mentioned that the tempo does get the heart racing at times. “It’s Gonna Be Okay” speeds right along, and it makes for a nice contrast to the more deliberate pace of prior tracks. But even here the track takes it down from a gallop to a sway as the song enters the home stretch, adding yet more delicious contrast to the mix.
And then there are tracks like “Hal,” which begins with an impish gait set against patient sax lines and cymbal washes, but then transforms into a tumultuous storm of competing sounds. Eventually it returns to its opening posture, and further cements the shift in attitude from last recording to the current one.
A spirited recording, and one well worth checking out.
Released on the Playing With Music label.
Jazz from the Stockholm, Sweden scene.
And don’t forget to check out that 2011 release Let You In, which you can stream some tracks on their soundcloud page HERE.
Mar 5 2013
Ches Smith & These Arches – “Hammered”
The first squeaks and skronks of Hammered, the new release by Ches Smith & These Arches are a case in point. They announce that this is going to be yet another modern jazz album that takes a strong avant-garde approach. Basically, it promises more of the good stuff.
But that turns out to be a bit deceptive. Because after that opening statement of skronks and screeches and sound blips, Andrea Parkins enters on accordion and adds a velvety soft element to the music’s sharp edges. The music is still ferocious, but that accordion adds a fuzzy coat of warm fur to the monster. It changes everything, except for the music’s identity. It’s a sudden and astounding transformation, shattering expectations and creating new ones.
And that’s just the first track. It builds from there.
Your album personnel: Ches Smith (drums), Tim Berne (alto sax), Tony Malaby (tenor sax), Mary Halvorson (guitar), and Andrea Parkins (accordion & electronics).
In addition to that wonderful accordion section on opening track “Frisner”, it’s a percussion wonderland replete with saxophone burn. And after it deconstructs into chaos, Smith brings it back with an anthemic bounce and chipper melody.
Second track “Wilson Phillip” has a Balkan flavor. The saxophones of Berne and Malaby and Halvorson’s guitar are a spaghetti tangle of notes between sections of rising waves of surging tempo. The song breaks down into formlessness and then silence, and then it picks right back up from where it all began, as if nothing had ever happened.
There is something very cool about how Smith deftly transitions songs in this manner. That he is able to disassemble tunes quite thoroughly from their original shape to the point where they’re almost unrecognizable, then immediately pull it all back together again makes for a hell of an engineering feat.
Third track “Dead Battery” winds and twists is short bursts of sound and form. The harmonization is a construct of layers like earthen strata, a musical geology. Dense sound, packed in tight, formed by heat and intense pressure. At the core of this song is a surging groove, of movement both melodically fluid and rhythmically dangerous.
The title-track digs right in with a statement both cool and propulsive. Halvorson leads on guitar, alternating between a groove and a grinds, a charred sound against fiery sax. There is a beautiful harmonic interlude of a thick airiness that last for too short a time before the ensemble rocks out to end the tune.
“Limitations” is an odd drifting tune, like a deconstructed dream. Bells pleasantly twinkling like stars above a mist of wavering sax and guitar, inducing sleep and snores. And if the dream is not yet over, then “Learned From Jamie Stewart” is its polar opposite. Saxophones like nightmarish streaks of lightning across a midnight sky, guitar as fiery eyes peering out from the darkness, accordion the howl of the wind, and a graveyard array of percussion.
The album ends with two songs that further illustrate Smith’s talent at smashing unlike sounds into seamless wholes. “Animal Collection” is a sandblasted wall of sound that parts for another cool groove (one of a surprisingly many on this album), spurred on by Halvorson’s bass line and buoyed by accordion and sax. In time, the groove and the wall of sound stop behaving as sandwiched elements and, instead, absorb one another for a singular sound… a force of nature in possession of a hip swagger.
The album closes out with “This Might Be a Fade Out.” It starts as a vortex draining into the earth, but as it descends into silence, it becomes waves gently lapping up against the shore. But this is only the beginning of the end. The song goes through a series of costume changes, ranging in sound from the chaotic to the less chaotic. It’s an impressive display of musicianship with which to pull it off, but more importantly, it really drives home the point that were it not for Smith’s talent at using rhythm to shepherd an array of varied sounds from start to finish, this track and, really, this whole album might’ve sounded muddied and all over the place. Instead, it’s often quite breathtaking for its expansiveness and adventurism.
This isn’t one you want to pass by.
Released on the Clean Feed Records label.
Jazz from NYC.
No audio to stream at this time.
Available at eMusic. Available at Amazon: MP3
You can also purchase the album directly from Ches Smith via his site and a paypal account.
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By davesumner • Jazz Recommendations, Jazz Recommendations - 2013 Releases • 0