Mar 18 2013
Recommended: Anne Paceo – “Yokai”
This is music in motion. This is music that flows with grace, whether expressing a calm nature or something more on the wild side. Yokai, the excellent release by drummer Anne Paceo, makes its mark by establishing a lovely fluidity despite having many different parts in play.
The well-traveled Paceo, via a history of miles logged and artist collaborations from a disparate array of backgrounds, deftly finds a way to allow various aspects of these influences to inform this music without ever letting any single one assert dominance over any other. As a result, there is something refreshingly unique about this music… it exists in its own sphere, and that likely has a lot to do with how its able to maintain its fluid motion throughout the length of the recording.
Your album personnel: Anne Paceo (drums, vocal), Pierre Perchaud (guitar), Stephane Kerecki (double bass), Antonin-Tri Hoang (alto sax, bass clarinet), and Leonardo Montana (piano).
There is an element of dance in much of this music. The thing of it is, so often an ensemble falls into the trap of simplifying the music to focus on grooves to attain this. However, here, Paceo throws crosscurrents of rhythms and harmonic textures across the expanse of the tunes while weaving them all together in a way that elicits an impulse of movement. This is not simple music. It is simple to connect with. Paceo’s ensemble makes it so easy.
There are some lovely melodic constructions here. The album opens with “Shedwagon,” Parts 1 & 2, and though the driving force of these songs is the ebullient cadence that dares the listener to sit still, it’s the opening statements of melody which invites the listener to step right up and stick around for the show.
An infectious swing is absolutely buoyant, harmonies buffeting the melody upward. Perchaud has a great solo on guitar, fiery and warm. When Hoang mirrors the path on sax, it just adds to how catchy this wildly celebratory song is.
The use of contrast is particularly effective. There’s the somber melody of title-track “Yokai” set against a chipper rhythmic tapestry and, also, the contrast between the ocean-deep bass clarinet, brightly shining piano, gliding guitar notes, and soulful groove on “Little Bouddha,” and the transition from the solo percussion of “Talking Drums” to the heavily melodic “Toutes les fées étaient là,” with its nifty turns of phrase on sax, and then, later, some wonderful interplay between Hoang’s bass clarinet and Montana’s piano lines. Moments that absolutely transfix.
“Little Bouddha” is arguably the most intriguing song on the album. It exudes a luxuriant sway, bending notes held for long enticing moments long past when one would expect them to end. It creates music that is both ambient and full of the spark of life. Perchaud’s guitar mimics the pattern of raindrops. Hoang’s sax trills and glides.
“When the Sun Rises” has a mournful tone and a meditative yearning. There is something both sad and hopeful about this music. Perchaud’s guitar enters with some real heat, adding fire to the melody. When the sound recedes, Kerecki’s bass slides into the vacuum. Kerecki takes his time to make his point, choosing to be succinct and interesting rather than trying to leave no note unsaid. The tune ends with Kerecki up front, leading the ensemble into an atmospheric fade-out.
“Smile” begins with chant and a solo piano, soft and beautiful. It marks Paceo’s sole vocal track on this album. Full of uplifting messages, it would be easy to take a cynical view of this song, but it fits so soothingly into the fabric of the album… an album which is terribly uplifting music. It only makes sense that some of the message would be vocalized. “Lulea” begins with much the same airy serenity where “Smile” left off, with Hoang offering quiet bursts of notes on sax while Montana’s piano whispers in its ear. It’s a duo performance for about two-thirds of the song. Then the pace and volume pick up just as the ensemble joins in for the big finale.
“Crunch” accomplishes several costume changes within the span of its notes. It opens with Montana and Paceo contributing some relaxed piano and brush-work, but then picks up the pace after a pause. Kerecki’s bass brings a nice throaty bounce. Hoang’s sax states the melody brightly while Perchaud shades at its edges on guitar of a darker color, eventually rising up and utilizing brighter colors. Then, a tempo change to a nice stuttering cadence, led by piano, accentuated by sax, and driven home by drums.
The album ends with two tracks that range to the peaceful end of the spectrum. “In My Country” drifts in, hangs expectantly in the air. Piano and cymbals drive up the tension, but keep it at a simmer. Bass growls, and begins to loom. Guitar twangs. Sax cries forlornly. The wave of volume and tempo surges, but crashes down before it fully crests and builds more momentum. This leads calmly into “Entre Les Gouittes,” which begins with a seductive section on bass clarinet, accompanied by piano phrases and brush work by Paceo. The entire song drifts contentedly along. For such a rambunctious album, the peaceful ending has a sublime quality to it.
Every year, without exception, long after I’ve wrapped up the prior year’s Best Of list, a handful of albums come to my attention… either completely new to me or ones I’d not quite appreciated enough… that were released in that prior year, and which would have made my Best Of list had I taken notice at the time I was compiling it. Yokai is one of those albums. It’s too late to officially place it on my Best of 2012 list, but go ahead and consider it one of the top thirty albums of 2012. I sure do.
Released on the Laborie Jazz label.
Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Soundcloud page.
Jazz from the Paris, France scene.
If I had to point to one album that exemplified the thriving state of Jazz, and its undeniable hope for the future, it would be The Imaginary Delta. By mixing traditional instruments and forms with modern instruments and composition, Fairhall is simultaneously forward-thinking while still tending to the roots of Jazz’s past. And, really, both those things are important. Jazz is about tradition, just as Jazz is about innovation. Most jazz musicians are able to do one of those things well, a smaller group are able to do one of those things great… but it’s a rare thing for an artist to do both of those things, simultaneously, great. Fairhall has done that here. Inventive music that echoes the spirit of Charles Mingus. The Bird is the Worm 2012 Album of the Year. 
A trio of piano, vocals, and bass clarinet/sax. A storytelling flair that could give Tom Waits a run for his money. Heartbreak stories about hopeless cases who can’t stop hoping for the best. Siskind has plenty of page-turning moments on keys, but doesn’t hog the spotlight from his trio mates. Harms has a way with vocals that give jawdropping turns of vulnerability and disarming playful missives. Pino charms on bass clarinet, and provides a noir-ish ambiance to an album that is moody as hell. Also, what you hear on the album is what you get live… the trio is just as evocative in a live setting. One of those albums that just seems to materialize out of thin air, full of intensity and presence.
From a live performance while on tour, Robbins brings a studio warmth to the vivid persona of a live recording. Robbins knows how to giftwrap a complex melody into a simple present, and it’s the highlight of this album. Interplay between quartet members an added bonus, but it’s the tunefulness of the album tracks that makes this recording so damn addictive. I already had a pretty strong like of past Robbins’ recordings, but he really upped the bar to my mind with this release. Robbins is making his mark.
Jesse van Ruller’s trio of guitar, bass clarinet, and bass brings the moodiness of the Netherlands scene full-on, and applies it to a chamber jazz format. Sparse and haunting, yet so full of warmth. Quiet music for quiet moments, but performed in a way to keep the brain’s synapses fully occupied. This album has been in regular rotation on my stereo since I first discovered it, and it’s showing no signs of going away. I’m a fan of sleepy music, but it’s the albums that also let some life shine through that gain my esteem. One of those albums that does more with less.
The music of Paul Motian isn’t an easy safe to crack, possessing a quiet strength that’s both subtle and obtuse. Drummer Jeff Cosgrove found a way in, however, and came back out with his own sound and vision of Motian’s music. With an overt bluegrass/folk sheen to his jazz interpretations, Cosgrove’s ensemble found the right mix of haunting warmth to do honor the late great drummer, while also bringing a unique recording to the table. This is the type of album I listen to only on occasion but when I do, I completely immerse myself in it. This music is self-contained, like losing oneself for a short time in a little-known far-away place. Very cool.
Based on a book that gave the freedom to approach the story in different ways, so it goes on Rayeula that complexities and wrinkles are woven into the fabric of beautifully textured music. This is one of those recordings that dropped my jaw the first time I heard it, then slowly displayed other, more subtle reasons to appreciate it over the course of time. Zenon increasingly establishes himself as one of the premier voices in Jazz on saxophone, and Coq shows himself to be the perfect foil on piano, counterbalancing Zenon’s fire with some keyboard ice. The inspired decision to include Dana Leong on cello and trombone, and add tabla and various other percussion to Dan Weiss’s ensemble responsibilities both add elements to the music that imbues it with a vibrant color that elevates this album up a notch. Challenging music that is simple to enjoy.
I’m enamored with the premise of building an album around compositions based on the children’s lullaby “Twinkle Twinkle.” It’s the right kind of clever. However, while there is a soothing nighttime quality to this music, these ain’t song to fall asleep to. When I first sat down to listen to this recording, my assumption is that it would be something not unlike an ECM piano trio snoozer. But, actually, most tracks are quite lively, and far more representative of Babel Label’s inventive catalog of releases. Solid, from first note to last.
Threads Orchestra’s sophomore release leaves behind much of the genre-warping it artfully performed on its debut Threads, and instead focus on a seamless mix of jazz, classical, and folk as its vehicle for presenting some of the more compelling music on the scene. A cinematic presence with a theatrical flair, the album reflects the music for unperformed theater as dreamt up in composer Jonathan Brigg’s head. This ensemble has proven over the course of two albums that they won’t hesitate to experiment without having to compromise making their music an effortless listen.
There’s a relentlessness to this album that’s always appealed to me. It can be felt even when di Benedetto’s ensemble takes to the sky to soar or when it slows things down to slowly crunch over earth. A straight-ahead recording that should appeal to both new and old-schoolers alike.
This is music in motion. This is music that flows with grace, whether expressing a calm nature or something more on the wild side. Yokai, the excellent release by drummer Anne Paceo, makes its mark by establishing a lovely fluidity despite having many different parts in play.
On Oskar Schönning‘s 2012 release, The Violin, he cooks up a recipe that is one-half old-school bop and one-half modern Nordic jazz, and he presents them slowly, one at a time, like photos in a slideshow, one after the other, joined not by music elements, but by the totality of the story.
Nov 14 2016
Recommended: Laurent Rochelle – “Les Amours Invisibles”
The string section is a huge uniting force, which has the additional effect of accentuating those moments when soloists break free and parallel its path and run the circumference of its borders. And when another ensemble member initiates a similar pattern switching between joins with Rochelle and communion with strings, then the effect is magnified dramatically. In that way Rochelle’s bass clarinet and Loïc Schild‘s marimba hypnotize through repetition on “Passages” and yet swim in the flow of the string section. And in that way that the electronic effects, violins, and the guitar of Denis Frâjerman generate a pulsing tempo on “Coda” that marries with Rochelle’s melodic sighs on soprano sax. And how Rochelle, switching over to piano on “Quelques notes de pluie sur un grand piano noir” moves between a role as defining the path ahead and becoming just another traveler within the melody. And it’s in the way that Rochelle modulates the dramatic surges so that the emotional discharge always comes off as sincere and not a gratuitous tug at the heartstrings.
It’s why this album can be so daringly beautiful and remain the genuine thing.
It’s why you should by this album.
Your album personnel: Laurent Rochelle (alto & soprano saxophones, clarinet, bass clarinet, piano, melodica, accordion, violin, Fender Rhodes, theremin, percussion, electronic effects & programming, voice), Nathalie Boullanger (violin), Marie-Florence Ricard (alto violin), Julianne Trémoulet (cello), Marie-Madeleine Mille (cello), Laurent Avizou (guitar), Denis Frâjerman (guitar), Edit Gergely, Alima Hamel, Audrey Durand (voices), Masako Ishimura (flute), Laurent Paris (percussion), Loïc Schild (drums, marimba) and Cédric Marcucci (drums).
Released in 2012 on Linoleum Records.
Listen to more of the album on the artist’s Bandcamp page.
Jazz from the Toulouse, France scene.
Available at: Bandcamp | Amazon
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By davesumner • Jazz Recommendations, Jazz Recommendations - 2012 Releases • 0 • Tags: Jazz - Best of 2012