Mar 6 2018
So, yeah, compositions by Bowie and Eno really made me fall for this new album from the Delta Saxophone Quartet
David Bowie went through many changes. His metamorphoses in persona were as wild as those occurring in his music. One such time, when he was strung out from a life of drugs and parties, Bowie retreated to Switzerland, before eventually settling in Berlin, Germany (hunkering down with Iggy Pop, actually). Throwing himself into the art scene, Bowie developed an interest in the ambient and electronic music from that locale, and this led to meeting up with Brian Eno. This partnership resulted in Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy… the albums Low, Heroes and Lodger. The electro-ambient influence is evident in all three, especially the first recording, Low.
On Bowie, Berlin and Beyond, the Delta Saxophone Quartet embrace the songbook from that period of Bowie’s creative arc. As the ambient drones of “Warzawa” prove immediately, this music is tailor made for the harmonies of a saxophone quartet.
On some tracks, they grab ahold of the melody and don’t let go. The propulsion of “Speed of Life” matches that of its original, while the quartet’s rendition of “Breaking Glass” has the same punchy swagger. And though they certainly honor the Bowie originals, these aren’t by the number takes. The quartet freely add harmonic twists and quirky solos that never emerge on a Bowie recording. And then there’s the subtlety applied to a rendition of “Heroes,” and how the song only really shows its face as they approach the finale. Arguably, the strongest track is a rendition of “Art Decade,” where the quartet splits the difference between remaining tethered to the original composition and wandering off to explore where it might take them. The result is something exceedingly hypnotic, both through its emphasis of a catchy melody and its beguiling motion.
As a special treat, the quartet also performs something from Brian Eno… the opening passage of the classic work Music for Airports. This, along with some interludes of improvisation, completes a very satisfying and enjoyable dive into Bowie’s Berlin period.
Your album personnel: Graeme Blevins (sopranino & soprano saxophones, clarinet), Peter Whyman (alto sax, clarinet), Tim Holmes (tenor sax, clarinet) and Chris Caldwell (baritone sax, bass clarinet).
Released on FMR Records.
Music from London.
Available at: Amazon
There’s some parallels to be drawn between Shades and another 2017 release, 
I’m glad there’s still jazz albums being made like the self-titled release from 
Their 2018 release What What is a case in point. It possesses a solemn tone reminiscent of a chamber jazz session recorded in an old church somewhere out in the countryside. It’s a tone that carries even through those moments when the duo jacks up the heat several notches… as they frequently do on this lovely recording. The tides of intensity shift to and fro with a suddenness that is often quite stunning. The unexpectedness of these changes never dims, even in the face of their common occurrence. There are times when it seems a shame that they’d break the spell of serenity that had settled in, but that interruption gradually is revealed as a blessing, because not only does the spike in volatility have a captivating quality all its own, but there’s also the satisfaction of the inevitable return to a state of peace.
But it’s not uncommon for the duo to expand their numbers when the moment calls for it. Their other new release, Legacy, is one such example of the benefits to this creative flexibility. Adding Nick Wight to the fold gives the affair a much more lively and excitable demeanor… a result that can be measured in how the drummer spurs the melodic voicings on to greater heights and speeds, but also in the way Wight gives the melody greater definition in the way he dances spryly around it. The sharp precision the latter approach burns into the song is best heard in “November Tears.” The song smolders with thick emotion, and though this would seem to be a moment ripe for a drummer to exploit for dramatics, Wight’s undercurrent of accompaniment resonates far stronger than any burst of fireworks could have achieved. That said, the thrilling rhythmic curls of title-track “Legacy,” and how they suddenly break into stretches of insistent pulsing tempo certainly add to the reasons why this album is so damn enjoyable.
It’s strange how the lingering impression of peacefulness hangs over die Beobachtung, even as it devolves into dissonance. The quartet Tauchgang instills a chamber jazz atmosphere about things, and so when they attain an unmanageable velocity and the melody starts to come apart at the seams, there’s a contemplative sense about things that is more than a bit appealing. Of greater appeal, however, are those transitory moments of changing intensity, and how the context of the entire piece shifts into a different state of being. That’s pretty cool, and pretty damn addictive.
Mar 20 2018
From now on all Bill Frisell decisions get run past me first
This is Frisell’s first solo album since 2013’s Silent Comedy, though a far better comparison for his latest offering is the 2000 release Ghost Town. The singular vision of Ghost Town imagined a place where ambient and folk and jazz bubbled up from the same body of water, and Frisell gave it shape and form with a deft use of loops and effects. There’s an immaculate cohesiveness to it all, even as the poignancy built into the nuance made it seem expansive as the horizon, and a sense that there was no end to the possibilities. Music IS incorporates many of those same ingredients, but it falls flat where Ghost Town leaps, slogs along where Ghost Town soars.
But like I said, it’s not bad.
“Thankful” is one of the highlights. The layering of the melody, growing increasingly textured as the song progresses, is a thing of near beauty. It’s a nice use of effects, with the music looping back over itself like layers of sunlight upon an icy pond. It also gains a delicate volatility, not unlike the way his classic tune “Tales from the Darkside” jacks up the voltage without shattering the prevailing serenity. And on the brief two minute track “Kentucky Derby,” Frisell flips on the afterburners, and the song takes off. The loops fall exactly in the right spots, and the waves of distortion land clean, and the melody is just the right amount of catchiness to still keep its bite… God, why couldn’t there more of this? “Thankful” and “Kentucky Derby” should’ve been the building blocks for starting over from scratch, and the rest of that underwhelming mediocrity should’ve been mercifully stomped to death.
A rendition of “Rambler” (from his 1985 recording of the same name) is interesting in that way a reduction of a dish down to an amuse-bouche can spark curiosity. Rambler was an odd recording for the ECM Records label. Frisell gave the music an introspective nature, but presented it with some electro-funk action via a guitar synthesizer. It’s interesting hearing Frisell break down that track these many years later. It’s also interesting to hear it presented more as a folk tune. It allows the melody to shine strong. But were it not for the inquisitiveness its context inspired, I’m not sure it would’ve made much of an impression. It’s fine.
A rendition of “Monica Jane” is like shopping for groceries.
Frisell returns to his old ECM Records catalog with the rendition of another title-track, this time to his 1983 recording In Line. It’s like the start of an idea. The new rendition lets the melody simmer quietly atop a creeping tempo, whereas the original had an appealing motion like a staggered march accompanied by sudden surges of intensity. It isn’t until near the end of the rendition that Frisell revisits the cascading melody that marks the original as its own thing. This doesn’t happen until the song has eaten up two-thirds of its duration, and it’s the exact moment this version comes to life. The effect is that everything that happened before is revealed as just unmemorable passages. The three minute mark is where it all should have begun, and then launched off from that plateau to even greater heights.
“Made to Shine” possesses all the electricity of brushing teeth first thing in the morning.
Many of these pieces come off like they’re meant only as a little riff of an idea, sometimes with the electricity amped up or some effects tossed about. This in itself isn’t a bad approach to take, except that they don’t really go anywhere on Music IS or seem to have a point or even act as a bridge for the preceding and subsequent tracks. And all of that could’ve been forgiven if it were at least a little bit interesting.
I don’t want forgettable music, especially not from Frisell. Not sure there’s a musician more dear to my life than this guy. Bowie? Monk? The three of them right there at the top. And it’s not like I don’t expect a favorite artist to disappoint. In fact, I expect it. If the musician keeps exploring new creative roads, it’s gonna happen from time to time that one of ’em won’t be up my alley. It’s when the tire gets stuck and spins out on that path, that’s when I’m going to begin questioning why that mud was even there in the first place. That’s where I come in. I want a return to the days when a new Frisell recording was a reason to celebrate, because it meant the potential for something brand spanking new that the world has never before heard. Perhaps it would be through inventiveness and maybe it would be something familiar but expressed with a beauty that fills a heart with light and joy. But it wouldn’t be forgettable and it wouldn’t be disappointing, and the response wouldn’t be it’s nice, I suppose.
From now on, all decisions for new Bill Frisell recordings get run past me first.
Your album personnel: Bill Frisell (guitar).
Released on Okeh Records.
Music from NYC.
Available at: Amazon
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By davesumner • Jazz Recommendations - 2018 • 0 • Tags: Bill Frisell