Search Results for: bill frisell

Mar 20 2018

From now on all Bill Frisell decisions get run past me first

 

Look, there’s nothing tragically awful about Frisell’s new album.  I enjoyed it, I suppose.  Music IS has its moments.  But I’ve been saying this about other recent Bill Frisell recordings, and that’s got me depressed as hell.

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.

The thing of it is, it’s not like the guy has lost it or anything.  Just five years ago, Frisell released the solo recording Silent Comedy, and it features an electric barrage of Frisell musings… tiny inspirations that play out in hellfire feedback, curious curls and loops, and glittering shards of melody.  It’s clearly crafted in the Tzadik label aesthetic (well, one of them, at least) and features all of the wild creativity that (I imagine) John Zorn encourages from his fellow musicians.  And I haven’t yet touched upon the pure gold of Frisell’s other recent recordings on the Tzadik label as part of the Gnostic Trio.  This family of albums are some of the most beautiful music you will ever hear and that’s still going to be true even if you live to be 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 years old.  Meanwhile, two years ago, Frisell and Okeh Records teamed up for the forgettable When You Wish Upon a Star.

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

By • Jazz Recommendations - 2018 • 0 • Tags:

Jan 1 2018

So, let’s start out 2018 with Marzio Scholten, Kit Downes & Bill Frisell, because you’re probably hungover and could use something peaceful

 

Happy new year.  I’m just saying right now, before we go any further, 2018 sure as hell better be an improvement over 2017.  I’m gonna lay down some positive vibes with this post to get things moving in the right direction.

Speaking of things that are right, here’s something that proves there was still much to be grateful for in 2017.  Marzio Scholten put out a solo guitar album nearly one year ago.  We Never Left Town is full-on Americana folk, which isn’t really in this site’s wheelhouse, so I never really could find a spot to feature it… well, until today.  But genre aside, it’s a beautiful album, and also an interesting departure from his 2016 release, Here Comes a Riot.

You can check the album out on Bandcamp.  It’s also available at Amazon.

But just as we have things to be grateful for in our rear view mirror, the view ahead is no less sunny.  Kit Downes has a new album coming out, and ECM Records wisely kept the pianist in the fold after his contribution to Thomas Strønen’s Time Is a Blind Guide (who, coincidentally, is getting a new release in January, too).  Obsidian comes out later this month, and it features the ongoing collaboration between Downes and Tom Challenger.  Their organ-saxophone duo project already has roots running deep into the landscape.  It’ll be interesting to see how things get presented with the ECM touch.  Here’s a promo video…

Downes has an Obsidian EPK on his YouTube page.  You can pre-order it on Amazon.

And there’s no way that starting out a new year with Bill Frisell can ever be a bad thing.  Might be the best thing ever, as far as I’m concerned.  For a year in which I’m having to summon up every reserve of hope, it’s appropriate that we go with Frisell’s gorgeous composition “Throughout” to guide us into 2018.

You can find this song on Frisell’s 1983 release In Line.  Go buy it at Amazon.  It’s gorgeous.

Alright.  That should get us in good shape to start 2018.  Just as soon as your head stops hurting or you feel safe to step outside and see if 2017 is truly gone.  Good luck and be well.  Cheers.

By • These are songs that I like, These are videos that I like • 2

Jul 2 2017

Your Sunday Morning Jazz Album: Bill Frisell – “Ghost Town”

 

Sunday morning is when the serenity comes down.  Sunday morning is the cocoon from the heavy exhaustion of too much Saturday night fun.  Sunday morning is when the city agrees to use its inside voice.  Sunday morning is when a hush settles in over the land.  It is a time for sitting still and listening to quiet music and silently praying the aspirin and coffee do something to stop your head from exploding.  Drama and stress are strictly forbidden on Sunday morning.

Your Sunday Morning Jazz Album is just for you, for times just like these.  If you possess the freakish compulsion to get-up-and-go when the clock strikes Sunday morning, this music is not for you.  Go and listen to a Spotify EDM playlist or something.  But whatever you decide, just do it quietly and far away from those of us who appreciate the true solemn nature of a Sunday morning.

Bill Frisell‘s first solo album was everything.  The 2000 release Ghost Town shined a light on all of the special qualities that defined the guitarist’s music to date and the many elements that would inform later projects.  A variation of the Frisell original “Tales From the Farside” displayed his talent at couching ominous tones in a comforting ambiance.  “What a World” and “Outlaw” show his penchant for loops and effects, and how he weaves together the multiple threads into a fabric far richer than what the individual strands might otherwise indicate.  Renditions of “Wildwood Flower” and “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” highlighted the guitarist’s immense talent at personalizing the songs of others, and how Frisell works those seamlessly into the flow of this individualistic recording is the ultimate proof of that talent.  These tunes are steeped in folk and Americana, but the flirtations with the avant-garde keep the ear wary.  And all of this, even at its most ferocious, keys in on the potent tranquility that lies at the heart of the music of Bill Frisell.

Ghost Town, as much as any album featured as a Sunday Morning Jazz Album, embodies everything the soundtrack of a Sunday morning person truly needs.

You need this album today, right now.

  • Artist-Title:  Bill Frisell – Ghost Town
  • Personnel:  Bill Frisell (electric & acoustic guitars, 6-string banjo, loops, bass)
  • Proper Use:  1) Watching the distant lights of the city skyline blink on as day replaces night, 2)  Immersing yourself in the sound of whispering leaves as a cool springtime breeze cuts a path through the open window, or 3)  Writing that letter to your dear friend, who you’d lost touch with so long ago.

Released in 2000 on Nonesuch Records.

Music from Seattle, WA.

Available at:  Amazon

By • Sunday Morning Jazz Album • 4 • Tags:

Nov 24 2016

Here are some videos, because I am thankful for the music of Bill Frisell

 

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

This year, perhaps as much as any year, it’s more difficult and more important than ever that we remind ourselves of the things we are truly grateful for.  Name them all, big and small, and appreciate them for reminding us how special life is.

Here’s some videos from guitarist Bill Frisell.  I am grateful for his music.

The first video has Frisell, bassist Tony Scherr and drummer Kenny Wollesen performing live to the film “The Mesmerist,” which is filmmaker Bill Morrison‘s re-edit of a deteriorated nitrate print of the 1926 film “The Bells” (starring Lionel Barrymore and Boris Karloff).  This performance went down in February 2010.

This isn’t a new thing for Frisell.  He’s had many projects that have married live music and film.  Two notable examples are his Buster Keaton and Disfarmer projects, which resulted in a handful of very nice recordings.  I keep a close eye on Frisell’s tour schedule, and he still revisits those projects from time to time.

The second video features a collaboration between Frisell and guitarist-vocalist Vinícius Cantuária.  The two have collaborated together plenty.  My first experience with their pairing was on Frisell’s excellent 2003 release The Intercontinentals.  The music from this video sources from the duo’s 2011 recording Lagrimas Mexicanas.

I’ve got a handful of Cantuária recordings, but far and away my favorite is his 1999 release Tucumã.  It’s a spellbinding session, and Cantuária’s voice is a big reason for that enchantment.  So is an excellent line-up of personnel, including Frisell, Joey Baron, Peter Apfelbaum, Erik Friedlander and Nana Vasconcelos (among others).  Here’s a LINK to a video featuring the album’s title-track.  Consider it Highly Recommended.

This next video comes from one of my favorite Frisell periods, when he was collaborating frequently with trumpeter-cornetist Ron Miles, and which resulted in my favorite Frisell recording Quartet.  This video features a song from that album.  It’s a live 1994 performance in Orvieto, Italy, with Frisell on guitar, Ron Miles on trumpet and Rob Burger on accordion.  The song is called “Egg Radio,” and its potent mix of heartbreak and uplifting beauty is strong enough to make me think, even in the worst of times, that everything is going to be okay.

 

Have a great Thanksgiving weekend.

By • These are videos that I like • 0

Aug 6 2016

Sometimes guitarist Mike Lorenz reminds me of 1980’s Bill Frisell, and that’s alright by me

 

Mike Lorenz column topI haven’t exactly held back when it comes to expressing my adoration for the music of Bill Frisell.  It was guitarist Frisell, pianist Thelonious Monk and bassist Charles Mingus that first catapulted me into the first real stages of immersing myself in all things Jazz.

As with any artist of any medium who is truly dedicated to their craft, Frisell’s prevalent sound has changed over time.  New visions are formed, new avenues are explored, the perpetual conversation between the artist and him-herself never truly ends.  The artist changes, and thus, so does the manifestation of their creative pursuits.  I’m glad Bill Frisell doesn’t sound like he used to, but there are times when I listen to one of his older album, and it triggers a wistful thought about how an album might sound today if he were to somehow revisit those older voices.  Asking that would be like asking an artist to time travel, to go back to how they were back then, because, really, that’s the only way to recapture those moments in any kind of genuine fashion.  So, we listen to those old albums of how the artist was, and in a way, it’s almost as if we are traveling back in time, because naturally those older albums conjure up memories of when we purchased the album, when we first listened to it, and all of the ways that music stamped its mark on the timelines of our lives.

However, another way to vicariously relive those moments is when a different artist bottles up something similar as they, too, go on their own personal path of creative development.  Guitarist Mike Lorenz is currently one of a small handful of guitarists I go to when I’m craving some of the 1980s Bill Frisell sound.  Back then, Frisell was working with a mix of potent ambient drone and a hard precision as if he were wielding the melody like a blade.  Albums like 1983’s In Line and the excellent comp of that period, Works, were two staples of my early-morning listening routine.  I loved how they could lull me into an abiding sense of serenity even when the music rose up and attacked.  The music was massively contemplative, even when it surged up and roared.  From his digs in Bethlehem, PA, Mike Lorenz has been doing the same for on his latest recordings.  You should know about his music.

Let’s begin…

 

Mike Lorenz – Riverside

Mike Lorenz - "Riverside"The latest release by Lorenz is a live recording from a performance at the 2015 Riverside Jazz Festival.  One of the essential elements of Frisell’s 1980s sound was how he transformed an ambient drone into waves of dissonance.  Opening track “E Minor” launches right into that approach.  A completely improvised piece, it begins as a murmur, then gradually spikes the intensity up higher and higher.

Bassist Justin Sekelewski and drummer Kevin Ripley lock into Lorenz’s flight patterns.  Ripley is plenty talkative on drums, which really needs to be the case, because it stops the drone passages from ever becoming sleepy and it also helps frame the context of the more explosive moments and mitigates the risk of guitar ever coming off as unnecessarily screechy.  Sekelewski shifts between melodic subtitles to Lorenz’s guitar and rhythmic reinforcement and misdirection to drums, depending on which way the melody blows.  It’s a lesson in the way subtlety can move mountains.

“Paragraph” is a lively tune, but its hazy melodicism maintains a sense of mystery, and, also, prevents it from developing into straight-ahead tedium.  Frisell’s more lively tunes often gave the impression of running through a thick fog.  Both “Paragraph” and subsequent track “Marie” hit that sweet spot, with the former focusing more on the running motion and the latter with an emphasis on the ephemeral presence of the fog.

The fourth and final track on this EP is “New One for Ornette,” and this time the trio leads right out with the furious side of their drone-roar spectrum.  And yet, even here, the thoughtful phrasings and the scaling of intensity between the trio members combine to present an introverted side of things even when they’re unleashing sheets of flame.  And, from the album’s contemplative opening notes and up to these final moments, the slow build of intensity leads to a satisfying conclusion to a very nice recording.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Justin Sekelewski (bass) and Kevin Ripley (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

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

Available at:  Bandcamp

*****

Mike Lorenz – I Am Watching My Day Slowly Disappear

Mike Lorenz - "I am watching my day slowly disappear"Lorenz has the same trio on his 2015 studio recording I Am Watching My Day Slowly Disappear.  And as opposed to the potent tranquility and controlled fury of Riverside, this set of tunes drowns in distortion and scatters in random motions and has a thick, smoky presence.  It also has plenty in common with Frisell’s 1985 release Rambler.  The song “Paul Motian” (who, coincidentally or maybe not so coincidentally, was the drummer of these Frisell recordings) speaks to the heart of this form of expression.  On this, it’s especially appealing the way Ripley’s drums keeps circling rapidly around the slow footfalls of Lorenz’s guitar, while the bass of Sekelewski fills in the shadows in between.

For the edge, “Everything’s On, All the Time” flashes sharp teeth and those precise melodic phrases become distorted growls, as do the pairing of “Phase Phrase” and “Phrase Phase.”  And when the trio strays closer to the calmer side of town, “Marie 1” and “Marie 2” find a perfect balance of tranquility and hyperactivity.  The melody and motion feed off one another, their contrasting qualities enhancing the subdominant elements in each.  It’s also the kind of thing where both a cerebral and emotional connection can be made concurrently.  “Marie” also made an appearance on Riverside, and hopefully that composition theme will be a recurring thing throughout Lorenz’s discography.  It’s also nice to witness that Lorenz’s sound is omnipresent whether in the studio or a live setting, that this sound is innate to him and not to the whims of a one-time improvisation or studio manipulation.  It’s also fine music.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Justin Sekelewski (bass) and Kevin Ripley (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

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

Available at:  Bandcamp

*****

Mike Lorenz – Of the Woods

mikelorenz_ofthewoodsThis does not sound like Bill Frisell, not even a little bit at any time.  However, Of the Woods was my introduction to the music of Mike Lorenz.  It was included on one of my very first recommendations columns when I first came on board eMusic for their 17 Dots blog.  It’s basically a straight-ahead modern jazz recording.  There are times it sounds like it’s going to enter the nu-jazz territory of Brian Blade Fellowship, but then it returns to a more conventional sound.

When I revisit this 2011 recording years later, I still find its moody ambiance, crisp melodies and how it occasionally goes wandering off from a structured path more than a little enjoyable.  And while it doesn’t fit with the Frisell 80s theme, it’s definitely an album I’m happy to recommend.  It’s also nice to hear a comparison between Lorenz’s later trio recordings and this earlier, quintet session.  What stands out to me is that, with the trio sessions, it’s the way the trio converses that’s the highlight, whereas with the Of the Woods quintet, it’s more about the topic of those conversations.  As with any story, sometimes the best part is the tale and sometimes it’s the way the tale is told.

Your album personnel:  Mike Lorenz (guitar), Mike Cemprola (alto sax), Matt Mitchell (piano), Brian Howell (bass) and Matt Scarano (drums).

The album is Self-Produced.

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

Available at:  Bandcamp | Amazon | eMusic

*****

Mike Lorenz column endAnd the albums recommended above are only a few of what’s available.  Be sure to check out Lorenz’s other stuff.

Link Summary:  Artist site | Bandcamp | Soundcloud

 

By • Artist Overviews, I Listen To All Of This, Jazz Recommendations, Jazz Recommendations - 2015 Releases, Jazz Recommendations - 2016 releases • 0

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