If there’s one musician who most completely embodies the true hopelessness of nailing down the qualities in music I most enjoy, it’s Han-earl Park.  My first encounter with the guitarist’s music was long ago, in my role as the Download of the Day editor for the AllAboutJazz site.  My initial reaction to the guitarist’s music was what the fuck.  And it still is, even today, after many many years of familiarization with his particular style.  His music is messy.  The thoughts seem scattered.  The ideas, unfocused or, perhaps, simply manic.  His music is aggressive and acerbic and gets in your face and won’t back down.  And that he’s able to pull all that off with two notes or two thousand or two million is the proof that this music sources from a musician who has successfully tapped into that creative well and developed a personal method for transforming the ineffable into a form of communication.

All of those messily scattered manic ideas impart a meaning in its message, and I know this is true, because time and again my immediate recoil reaction to Park’s music slowly changes to a detached fascination.  Somehow, time and again, despite his music presenting all of the qualities that would typically get me to hit the pause button, instead, it engages me to the very end.  There are not many musicians who consistently display the ability to instigate such a quick turnaround within the span of one song.  Han-earl Park is one such musician, and no better example exists than his new release Sirene 1009.

Sirene 1009 is a soundtrack for a seizure.  It’s spasmodic and flails about wildly.  The music is disconcerting.  But it enters these fugue states of focused intensity that border on meditative, and it is the most powerful sensation to experience even the tiniest hint of serenity at the center of so much chaos.  It’s unsurprising to discover that the three-part “Cliodynamics” suite was recorded live.  Even via the recorded medium, there’s a palpable electricity transmitted by this music, and its voltage isn’t the least bit muffled for not having been there in person.  That it was recorded at Cafe OTO is also perfectly logical, as the London venue has been the scene for all kinds of wildly unconventional, singularly original music.

Mostly, Caroline Pugh‘s vocals are of the wordless variety, and so dramatic are her renderings of human sounds that it’s not inconceivable she created an alternate lexicon specifically for this recording.  Park’s guitar style can be the sonic representation of slash-and-go rush hour traffic, and of significance to the success of this session is how he simultaneously captures the immediacy of individual cars in motion and the oddly hypnotic flow of mass traffic viewed from an isolated location.  On bass, Dominic Lash slings out notes like stones across the surface of water.  There’s a sudden burst of velocity and a magnetic patter of rhythm, and with one action, the bassist adds both melodic and rhythmic textures to a canvas that might not otherwise keep its brushstrokes contained.  That said, when Lash breaks into a passage of bass arco and maintains that as his sole interest for a time, the music certainly doesn’t suffer for his abandonment of a rhythmic role.  Besides, drummer Mark Sanders does a remarkable job all on his own at providing definition to music that is never clear-cut and direction to musicians capable of moving everywhere all at once.

This album is brilliant.  This album is insane.

Your album personnel:  Han-earl Park (guitar), Dominic Lash (double bass), Mark Sanders (drums) and Caroline Pugh (voice, tape recorder).

Released on Park’s label Buster & Friends.

Listen to more of the album at the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Music from Cork, Ireland.

Available at:  Bandcamp

There’s some people I take to immediately just because something about their gestures and tone and demeanor comes off as genuine.  It’s the kind of connection that earns an immediate benefit of the doubt, and over time, hopefully, that trust becomes better earned.  The debut from the quintet I Just Came From The Moon has got me thinking about those people in my life.  Hoax comes off as similarly genuine.  Every note feels like it’s well-meant and sources straight from the heart.  It’s in how “Wonderful Ryan” suddenly breaks into the blues and how “Munken” suddenly breaks into a smile and how the flash of claws on “Ugler I Mosen” doesn’t get in the way of some soulful warmth in the same breath.  The downcast tones of “Februar” don’t come off as a superficial grab for the heartstrings nor does the get-up-and-go excitement of “Med Rumraket Til Rund” sounds forced.

I’ve had this recording in my playlist for quite a little time now, and it has definitely backed up that first impression.  There is so much to like about this engaging album.  Melodies are crisp and clear, and the ensemble is just as talented at giving them new shape and form within the span of one song as they are with its introduction.  There’s a storybook feel to each song, in that way its tone and tenor transform by the end, yet not entirely changed from the opening notes.  And for each stroke of beauty, there’s an equal balance of edge, so nothing can be predicted and the anticipation never dies down.

Consider this album highly recommended, and don’t be surprised to hear more about it in the future.

Your album personnel:  Jonas Scheffler (trumpet), Nis Hellerøe Myrtue (tenor sax), Nikolaj Bugge (guitar), Tobias Andreasen (drums) and Frederik Hagner (bass).

Released on Jaeger Community.

Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Soundcloud page.

Music from Aarhus, Denmark.

Available at:  Amazon

There’s nothing fancy or revolutionary about Axis Mundi.  It’s just a whole lot of straight-ahead wonderfulness.  Vibraphonist Rui Filipe Freitas leads a sextet through a nice mix of new school tunes, keeping the chatter lively and the melodies warm and bright as a noontime sun.  “Duro de Roer” scoots right along, with a speedy rhythm carrying solos along on its surface.  “Osiris” bookends some wild solos with a catchy melody and a cool groove.  “Grace” reveals a sharp edge, whereas “Abscôndito” slows things down to show qualities far gentler.

There’s a likable consistency to how Freitas crafts a melody.  It’s something that creates the sense of a bond between the individual tracks.  But key to the album’s success is how he and his Sexteto slice and dice that melody up, presenting it differently with each tune, and going about its development with an approach that is anything but consistent.  This album is straight-ahead jazz, but Freitas delivers each piece in a way that is unpredictable in how it will ultimately unfold from its opening notes.  Tenor saxophonist José Pedro Coelho doubles up on bass clarinet, and that leads to some of the album’s stronger moments.  That deep resonance and how it meshes with the icy brilliance of vibraphones is something that doesn’t ever get old, not even a little bit.

Just a real enjoyable recording.  It’s one that I keep finding myself returning to, time and again.

Your album personnel:  Rui Filipe Freitas (vibraphone), José Pedro Coelho (tenor sax, bass clarinet), João Mortágua (alto & soprano saxophones), Mané Fernandes (guitar), Filipe Teixeira (double bass) and João Martins (drums).

Released on Porta Jazz.

Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Music from Porto, Portugal.

Available at:  Bandcamp

It’s so refreshing to stumble upon a recording that lives for the groove.  The groove ain’t a unique thing, not by any measure.  And it certainly comes in many shapes and forms, each wrapped differently like a gift given for the very first time.  But, damn, why so serious?  Give me a groove for backyard parties, a get-together with friends where the tempo of the tune is synched up with everyone’s laughter, everyone’s pulse, with every single breath.  The new release from Orlando Le Fleming is that album.  And the musicians assembled for Romantic Funk sound like they’re having a blast, as if they’re imagining a backyard party of their own as they run down every beat of every groove.

The cohesion from track to track is key to the album’s success.  Le Fleming mixes things up, for sure.  There’s the intriguing drone on “Myth” and how little fragments of melody shape the groove and direct its motion, and there’s the heartbreak ballad of “Ellington” and the dreamy melodicism of “Pretentious Brooklyn” and the old-school fusion of “Focustrate.”  But all of it sounds like birds of the same feather, one groove’s flow melting right into the next and the next to follow after that.  It sounds like a soundtrack to a backyard party, and all of it sounds like all the fun that anyone could possibly ask.

Your album personnel:  Orlando Le Fleming (bass), Ari Hoenig (drums), Greg Tuohey (guitar), Frank LoCrasto (keyboards) and guests: Seamus Blake, (soprano & tenor saxophones), Will Vinson (alto sax, flute), Sullivan Fortner, Pete Rende (keyboards), Lenny Reece (drums), Jake Sherman (clavinet) and Ryan Scott (guitar).

The album is Self-Produced.

Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Bandcamp page.

Music from Brooklyn.

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon