The term “groove-oriented” usually describes jazz of a funkier, danceable sort. But it’s not how many would categorize the maddeningly complex music of Vijay Iyer and his trio with bassist Stephan Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore. Pulsing rhythm, however, has always played a significant role for Iyer, and at (Le) Poisson Rouge during Winter Jazz Fest (Jan. 7th) he brought the beat like never before, drawing on pieces from the forthcoming ACT release Accelerando. The atmosphere was just right: packed and sweaty crowd, eager for something new. Like a good DJ, Iyer reached back to 1977 with Heatwave’s “The Star of a Story,” shrouding the pretty chords and melody in a fragmented, bass-heavy pattern. “Lude,” with an almost imperceptible segue into “Optimism,” featured Iyer in a more pronounced soloing role, though the mix was too muddy at times to hear it well. “Actions Speak,” another original, closed the set at warp speed and allowed Gilmore time for a seal-the-deal drum solo. Hypnotic deconstructed rhythm was the focus, giving a consistent band sound to a set that ranged from “Hood,” inspired by Detroit’s “minimal techno” pioneer Robert Hood, to “Human Nature,” the Michael Jackson classic from Thriller. The latter, which led off Iyer’s 2010 disc Solo (and was once a concert staple for Miles Davis), got a thorough going-over from the trio, in a limping modified shuffle feel — a beat that seemed to hold together by nearly falling apart. (David R. Adler)
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Surging and inescapable rhythm is what gives Adam Rudolph’s Moving Pictures Septet its broadly accessible and riveting sound. This much seemed clear to a late-night Winter Jazz Fest crowd at Zinc Bar (Jan. 6th), where Rudolph played a short but solid set with fellow percussionists James Hurt and Matt Kilmer, guitarist Kenny Wessel, acoustic bass guitarist Jerome Harris, reedist Ralph Jones and cornet/flugelhorn man Graham Haynes. An avant-garde theorist and student of musical traditions from around the world, Rudolph had a wealth of sounds available, and he used them brilliantly: lap-steel guitar from Harris on the opening “Oshogbo”; flute and muted cornet dissonance on the closing burner “Dance Drama”; Hurt’s melodica and Wessel’s ethereal effects at the opening of “Love’s Light,” a bluesy meditation; Jones on “Return of the Magnificent Spirits” making forceful statements on bass clarinet and Chinese hulusi (one of several Eastern wind instruments in Jones’ toolkit). Rudolph, standing behind his conga, tumba, djembe and other gear, drove the band with an effortless kind of polyrhythmic abstraction. The writing was loose but focused, with precise hits and carefully crafted themes — not unlike what we hear from Rudolph’s larger group, the Go:Organic Orchestra (which plays some of the same repertoire). Happily, the energy of this music translates onto disc: Rudolph’s latest releases, Both/And and The Sound of a Dream, are essential. (DA)
In a cheerful and loquacious introduction at Bar Next Door (Dec. 4), guitarist Peter Mazza announced his plan for the evening: arrangements of standards, reflecting a passion for rich and intricate harmony. Flanked by Marco Panascia on upright bass and Roggerio Boccato on a scaled-down percussion kit, Mazza quickly made clear that he is indeed a chord-hound. His treatments of “Skylark,” “Over the Rainbow,” “Someday My Prince Will Come,” “My Romance,” “Darn That Dream” and “Stella By Starlight” were packed with capricious chord-melody voicings, darting counterlines and written bass parts that Mazza and Panascia often played in unison. Even if the potential for guitar/bass muddiness was there, the sound remained light and nimble. Boccato saw to that with his dumbek, woodblocks and other accessories, which still allowed for a solid jazz feel on ride cymbal and brushes. Mazza got a clear and tailored sound from a Gibson archtop and played to Boccato’s strengths with Brazilian-inspired rhythms, waltzes and other spacious feels. The single-note solo passages were inventive, sparking empathic trio interplay, but ultimately Mazza’s pianistic block chords and bold contrapuntal devices were the most consistently absorbing part of this music. Never did his arrangements detract from the original melodies, or even the underlying harmonic logic that made these songs great. On “Stella,” the tour de force closer, one heard extravagance, but also simple good taste. (David R. Adler)
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Bassist Michael Bates, in a well-deserved showcase at Ibeam (Dec. 10), took charge with two contrasting yet intimately related lineups. He began with music from the new album Acrobat, performed by most of the original in-studio cast: Chris Speed on reeds, Russ Johnson on trumpet, Russ Lossing on piano/Wurlitzer and Jeff Davis (standing in for Tom Rainey) on drums. In a welcome twist, trombonist Samuel Blaser joined the Acrobat group as well (he also partnered with Bates as a co-leader in the second set, debuting a new quintet with tenor powerhouse Michael Blake). The Acrobat music, all inspired by or adapted from Shostakovich, rose to new imaginative heights with the third horn. Leading off with the Intermezzo from the Piano Quintet in G Minor, Speed played slow and high-pitched clarinet, summoning the lonely quality of the original violin line. Finishing with the Allegretto movement of the Piano Trio No. 2, the band dug in with a grinding beat and captured the work’s deep inner tension — its Russian-ness, if you will. Bates’ originals were full of improvised fire and sonic flux, with Lossing’s tweaked Wurlitzer adding jolts of electric post-fusion on “Silent Witness” and the uptempo “Strong Arm.” Johnson’s unaccompanied solo with mute on “Talking Bird,” hushed in volume yet full of unbridled urgency, was a thing of wonder. From the brash “Fugitive Pieces” to the legato balladry of “Some Wounds,” the music was unsettled, precise and poignantly lyrical all at once. (DA)
The next BYOV (Bring Your Own Vinyl) session takes place on Sunday, August 14 at Barbès, 3pm. Go here for a report on last month’s proceedings. I can’t make this one, but curator Bret will be featuring a selection of mine in absentia.
The themes for August:
a) Favorite duo performances. Two musicians, one stage. No holds barred. Well, no genres barred.
b) Unusual instrumental combinations. Mouth harp and tuba? Orchestra and helicopter? Bring your fav bizarro combinations.
Left field pick…
c) Blast from the past! Fav old-timer coming out of retirement or mixing it up with youngsters.
To this point, guitarist Rez Abbasi has focused overwhelmingly on original material, and although his work could be said to sit within the modernist mainstream of jazz, he’s spent little time in public playing standard tunes. That changed when he appeared in a trio setting with bassist Johannes Weidenmueller and drummer Adam Cruz at Bar Next Door (July 2nd). Revisiting the bop and post-bop canon might have been unexpected, but it was perfectly logical — Abbasi’s fluid, rhythmically buoyant lines have always shown a rootedness in swing, even when he’s drawing on South Asian musics in the company of Vijay Iyer, Rudresh Mahanthappa, Dan Weiss and others. The trio led off with a brisk “What Is This Thing Called Love,” and Abbasi chewed up the changes with laid-back precision, forming long strings of ideas with the benefit of a deep, resonant electric guitar sound. No bold-stroke arrangements here: “Alone Together,” “Solar” and Joe Henderson’s angular blues “Isotope” found the group sticking to simple solo rotations and trading of eights and fours. If there was a hesitancy at times during the first of three sets, it was thanks to the newness of the lineup and the casual nature of the gig. But for a warm-up, this was strong and searching music. Abbasi ventured some backwards effects on his intro to Alec Wilder’s ballad “Moon and Sand,” and Cruz found just the right vibe for the tiny room, keeping the volume low without sacrificing intensity. (David R. Adler)
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It’s impressive in itself that bassist John Hébert could gather pianist Fred Hersch, altoist Tim Berne, cornetist Taylor Ho Bynum and drummer Ches Smith under one roof for a Charles Mingus tribute at the Stone (July 2nd). This was Hersch’s Stone debut, his first-ever gig with Berne, and a golden opportunity to hear the pianist grapple with the legacy of his mentor Jaki Byard, a key Mingus sideman. Berne, for his part, was no slouch in the implicit role of Eric Dolphy (perhaps also Jackie McLean or Charles MacPherson). But it was Hébert’s achievement that stood out: his way of featuring these unique voices from across the aesthetic spectrum of jazz, and still capturing the swinging integrity of Mingus’s ingenious works. There was a suite-like structure to the set, and a good deal of reading involved, as the band made its way through Hébert’s arrangements of “Sue’s Changes,” “What Love,” “Duke Ellington’s Sound of Love” and “Remember Rockefeller at Attica.” Melodies sang out beautifully, as did Hersch’s richly voiced chords, although there was plenty of unvarnished bite and snarl. Hébert gave everyone, including himself, room to roam unaccompanied. He tacked on clever sonic details, including a glockenspiel line (played by Ches Smith) matching Berne’s alto during “What Love.” The music flowed in and out of defined meter and seemed to revel in its messy, multi-stylistic flux, echoing something Mingus once said to Nat Hentoff: “Why tie yourself to the same tempo all the time?” (DA)
On Miles Okazaki’s first two recordings, Mirror (2005) and Generations (2009), the leader’s guitar wasn’t the main focus. Rather, it was part of a larger ensemble fabric woven by three saxophones, bass and drums, even vocals on the latter disc. Premiering a third volume of original music, “Figurations,” at the Jazz Gallery (June 4th), Okazaki went a different route, scaling back to a quartet with Miguel Zenón on alto, Thomas Morgan on bass and Dan Weiss on drums. Here the guitar was well out in front as a solo voice, and Okazaki’s tumbling, accelerating, pointedly unstable phrases seemed to connect with Weiss’s drumming on a molecular level (a function of their work together on Weiss’s Jhaptal Drumset Solo and other projects). Even at its most austere and highly technical, the music bore traces of blues, soul, funk and swing — “Dozens,” the finale, was based on “I Got Rhythm” changes. But Okazaki drew on more obscure systems of information as well. Included in the printed program were his original drawings, mysteriously representing five of the six featured compositions, “Mandala,” “Tesselation,” “Dozens,” “Hive Mind” and “Circulation.” Bold reds and blues in complex labyrinthine patterns, against a background of jet black: Okazaki’s visual aesthetic certainly opened the door to a music that could seem baffling and rhythmically overstuffed at points. Visit the “Theory” section of milesokazaki.com to see how deep his imagination goes. (David R. Adler)
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There is something immediately gripping about the speed, grace and unerring touch of Warren Wolf at the vibraphone. Clearly this isn’t lost on Bobby Watson, Christian McBride, Jeremy Pelt, Willie Jones III and others who’ve hired the young Baltimore native and new Mack Avenue Records signee. That Wolf also plays piano and drums on a high level — as documented on his recent self-release Warren “Chano Pozo” Wolf — makes him an even more unusual find. Keeping strictly to vibes at Jazz Standard (June 9th), Wolf brought on board pianist Lawrence Fields, bassist Eric Wheeler (subbing for Kris Funn) and drummer John Lamkin for an inspired one-nighter. The second set commenced with the midtempo “Soul Sister,” gliding and funky in a ’70s McCoy Tyner vein. Wolf continued with “Para Mejor o Peor” (“for better or worse”), a fine jazz ballad that grew into more of a rock power ballad by the outro. “I Surrender Dear” started at a strutting trad-jazz pace, and after Wheeler’s three able choruses Wolf delivered the goods: a set of rousing stop-time breaks and a virtuoso cadenza, the set’s defining moment. Strayhorn and Ellington capped it off: “Lush Life,” initially a vibes/piano duo, led to a breakneck “Caravan,” powered by Lamkin’s galloping swing. The first-rate piano solo left one wondering when Fields will throw his hat in the ring as a leader. No grand revelations here, but solid music-making, deep in the tradition, from a highly promising group. (DA)
On Sunday, June 5, I took part in the inaugural Bring Your Own Vinyl (BYOV), a new monthly listening session and hang at Barbès. Here’s the rundown of what we heard!
From the first seconds of their show at Issue Project Room (May 5th), Starlicker sent pounding asymmetric rhythms and deft unison passages flooding into the boomy loft-like space in Gowanus. The trio’s members — cornetist Rob Mazurek, vibraphonist Jason Adasiewicz, drummer John Herndon (of Tortoise) — hail from the heart of Chicago’s vibrant underground scene. They seemed shell-shocked and in need of rest by the end of the first tune, “Double Demon,” the title track from their new Delmark recording. This was aggressive and unrelenting stuff, yet the expansive overtones of the vibes gave the music a softer quality, even when Adasiewicz beat on his instrument like an angry man. By the time they segued to the rubato opening of “Vodou Cinque,” Mazurek was working with a mute and suggesting a more contemplative feel. There was a distinctly lyrical component, and a precise, well-rehearsed handling of themes and transitions, underlying “Orange Blossom,” “Andromeda,” “Triple Hex” and “Skull Cave.” (The set was drawn entirely from the 38-minute Double Demon, with the tracks played in order.) Starlicker is essentially a pared-down version of the quintet from Mazurek’s 2009 disc Sound Is, which included two bassists. Here the trio has a more open sound field in which to work; the result is raw but still somehow complete. Live, Herndon was the main muscle, his beats combining Elvin Jones-like suppleness with sheer punk energy. (David R. Adler)
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Seattle drummer Paul Kikuchi was among the artists featured by Steve Peters in a two-week curating stint at The Stone (May 6th). Fronting a new quartet, Kikuchi had trumpeter Nate Wooley, bassist Reuben Radding and bass clarinetist Jason Stein on hand for a fairly short set — three separate pieces, each roughly in the 12-minute range. The music was freely improvised, full of motion and dynamic flux, with attention paid to fine points of tone and timbre. Sound is very much Kikuchi’s arena, as is clear from his work with the experimental duo Open Graves (hear their latest, Flight Patterns, recorded in an empty water cistern with Stuart Dempster as guest). Drum heads struck with assorted objects, ethereal feedback from walkie-talkies, amplification on Wooley’s horn, at one point a clothespin on Radding’s bass strings: these elements made Kikuchi’s new quartet a thing of sonic intrigue, with a more thoroughly abstract sound than that of the Empty Cage Quartet (another of Kikuchi’s main projects). Standing in a quasi-circle, Wooley and Stein faced the other two as they wove an intimate yet tension-filled web. There were hoarse, passionate bass clarinet asides, broad-toned arco bass passages, plenty of unscripted duo breakaways and also leaps into guttural, unabashed free jazz with the entire band sounding off. Coaxing one processed note into the ether, Wooley slowly moved his trumpet upward until it was pointed straight at the ceiling — a gesture that seemed almost devotional. (DA)
Details are shaping up nicely for the Jazz Awards on June 11th – Randy Weston, Wallace Roney and other top players are set to perform. Plus a special slate of “Jazz Heroes” awards. View the nominees and get your tickets!
Pianist Dan Tepfer has absorbed untold wisdom through his many duo engagements with alto great Lee Konitz, but at Cornelia Street Café (April 9th) it was time for the young Tepfer to face another giant, bassist Gary Peacock. (Konitz was on hand to hear it.) “I’ll Remember April” made for an exploratory warm-up, with a strong but loosely felt tempo and streams of harmonic depth and fullness, qualities that spilled into the original material that followed. Inspired by long conversations at Peacock’s rural home, Tepfer wrote several new pieces with titles drawn from the bassist’s actual words. “If You Fail” was a hovering waltz with dark melodies and free-form episodes, rich in dialogue. “He Just Takes the Sticks and Plays,” a reference to Paul Motian, had a saucy midtempo swing bounce, harking back to the interplay of the opening standard. “The Gratitude That I Can Still Play,” an oddly configured ballad, gave Peacock one of many opportunities to show that yes, he most certainly can; his commanding solo spots and pithy responses to Tepfer held the room in rapt silence. The duo also tackled two of Peacock’s compositions: “Moor,” recorded as far back as 1963 with Paul Bley, began with weighty solo bass and grew from spacious lyricism to some of the night’s freest, most unsettled playing. “Lullabye” was the high point, however: a slow-crawling web of arpeggios and unisons and orchestrated give-and-take, ominous yet somehow delicate, proof that this pairing can do magic. (David R. Adler)
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Ascend to the bandstand with pianist Martial Solal, relentless as ever at 83, and you’re going to have a challenging time of it. But bassist François Moutin faced the unusually daunting task of playing duo with Solal for a week at the Village Vanguard. At the outset of their Thursday late set (April 14th), Moutin stayed out the way while Solal got into Rodgers & Hart’s “There’s a Small Hotel,” but their swinging chemistry ignited soon enough. For all of Solal’s lightning runs and flurries, he pinned his ideas to the main melody to a remarkable extent. At full steam, however, Solal will change keys at will in the middle of a section, or quote whimsically at length, then return to the tune he left behind and have it make sense. “All the Things You Are” and “Tea for Two” found themselves commingled. “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You” somehow became “Stardust” and then ended, abruptly. Ditto “Caravan” and “Prelude to a Kiss.” Moutin’s reaction time through all this was swifter than anyone could rightly expect, and his solos were often as captivating as Solal’s. The two have a similar sort of wild proficiency, and the duo format gave them a unique space to roam — although Solal’s recent trio discs NY1 and Longitude show the focusing effect a drummer can have. Here tempos were taken up and cast aside, whether on ballads like “Lover Man” and “I Can’t Get Started” or romps like “I Got Rhythm” and the jubilant encore “The Last Time I Saw Paris.” (DA)
