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Klaus Kugel (d), Joe McPhee (s), John Edwards (b)

September 29, 2017. Manufaktur Schorndorf. Photo by Martin Schray

Luis Perdomo (p), Yasushi Nakamura (b), Jon Irabagon (s), Rudy Royston (d)

October 5, 2017. Karlsruhe, Tempel. Photo by Martin Schray

Mat Maneri (v) & Joelle Leandre (b)

September 27, 2017. Zürcher Gallery, NYC. Photo by Paul Acquaro

Oren Ambarchi (g, electronics)

October 3, 2017. Klosterkirche, Lobenfeld. Photo by Martin Schray

Vijay Iyer (p), Mark Shim (ts), Stephan Crump (b), Steve Lehman (as), Marcus Gilmore (dr), Graham Haynes (co)

October 15, 2017. Mannheim, Alte Feuerwache. Photo by Martin Schray

Monday, October 23, 2017

Uwe Oberg, Rudi Mahall and Michael Griener – Lacy Pool 2 (Leo, 2017) ****

By Troy Dostert

Back in 2009, pianist Uwe Oberg joined up with drummer Michael Griener and trombonist Christof Thewes to record Lacy Pool, a thoughtful and spirited treatment of a good portion of the Steve Lacy canon. By using a trombone player instead of a soprano saxophonist, Oberg made a deliberate decision to avoid the pitfall of sounding too derivative of the master, and the results struck just the right balance between homage and reinvention. For this iteration of the project, Oberg and Griener are teamed with bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall: a bit more Lacy-like, perhaps, in going with a straight horn (or at least a semi-straight one); but even so, once again Oberg and his partners have produced music that re-imagines Lacy’s pieces with creativity and poise.

All but two of the nine tracks are from the Lacy songbook. Well-known tunes like “Clichés,” “Troubles,” and “Trickles” contain all the quirky angularity and playful devices Lacy’s compositions are known for. Recurring motifs are featured prominently, along with ample opportunities for the musicians to move beyond the confines of the melodies. But there’s never a sense of complete abandon; as with Lacy’s own music, the melodic foundation of the songs is always implied. Indeed, so thoroughly do the musicians inhabit Lacy’s ethos that even their own pieces seem inspired by his muse: “Field (Spring)” generates a low-level intensity through a repeated phrase that Mahall develops through subtle re-workings before the group engages in a more fluid exchange of ideas, eventually to return to the central melody; and “Jazz ab 40” draws from Lacy’s love of Monk for a composition with an oblique melodic structure, with all three musicians hitting a creative peak in their tempestuous, wide-ranging improvisation.

The record’s appealing mixture of composed and semi-free aspects is definitely one of its charms. So are the players’ distinctive attributes. Griener is capable of stretching beyond the constraints of strict time, but there’s still a strong rhythmic core animating his contributions. Oberg also never ventures too far out, even during the music’s most unstructured moments; his sensitive, careful touch is central to his playing. And of course, as the horn player on the record Mahall is crucial: he consistently embodies the sing-song quality of Lacy’s music, but not without putting his own stamp on these pieces. He likes to stay in the upper register of his instrument, although when it’s needed he can harness the full range of the instrument as well as anyone. Listening to his beautiful take on “Blues for Aida” is proof enough of his and his partners’ skill in interpreting this very deep reservoir of music. It’s certainly enough to tide us over until the third volume of Lacy Pool; hopefully we won’t have to wait as long for that one.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Carate Urio Orchestra - Garlic & Jazz (KLEIN records, 2017) ***

By Daniel Böker

The medium is the message, McLuhan once said. With music it might be a little bit different but the change of the medium effects the way we receive music. This goes way back to the invention of the magnetic tape. Today there is still a discussion going on about the best medium for music: Vinyl, CD, or download (though I would suggest it's the concert!), and there is a discussion about the usage of streaming services and so on. Especially the latterchange the way we listen to music. It is easily accessible and that means a lot. There is so much music that you have to hurry through the things you listen to, to get to the next new thing. There are a lot of things to think about. I use all different ways of listening to music. But it still makes a difference in a peculiar way, if I listen to an LP or an album via any streaming service.

I listened to the new album of the Carate Urio Orchestra Garlic & Jazz via a downloaded file. This file though was divided like a vinyl album with side A and side B. And it makes so much sense.

The two sides of this album are very different.

A few words on the Carate Urio Orchestra before I return to Side A and Side B.

Carate Urio Orchestra was founded by Joachim Badenhorst. Badenhorst is a reeds-player and composer, bandleader from Belgium. A lot of his work was reviewed here on this blog so there is no need for a lot of background.

Carate Urio is his largest ensemble as far as I know and on the record Garlic & Jazz, they all take part: Eirikur Orri Olafsson, Frantz Loriot, Pascal Niggenkemper, Sean Carpio, Brice Soniano and Nico Roig.

Garlic & Jazz
is not just the title of the new record it is also a little festival with food (garlic) and Jazz (jazz). This takes place every other year and is curated by Joachim Badenhorst.

Side A

This album Garlic & Jazz is published on vinyl. Side A is one piece of 16 minutes of music: "Mosselman/The Salt of Deformation"

Four minutes into the track a trumpet states a nice little melody. It is, though the picture might be a bit overused, a flower in a concrete desert. I have to add that I like concrete deserts.

The Carate Urio Orchestra is building a so called wall of sound. No not actually a wall, it's more a path or a landscape. A wall holds people away from something. A wall is built to scare someone off. Here I feel invited to walk this path or landscape. I hear some kind of reeds, bass, guitar and other sounds that are not so easy to decipher. And it is a real pleasure to stumble upon the trumpet. Later there is a viola inviting the listener to follow her to a human voice. The band lets the intensity grow slowly until in the end there is a huge hill in the landscape. And we are left with the drums in the end.

"Mosselman/The Salt of Deformation" could also be a track on an album published on the label constellation. I think it is not necessary to put names to music but if I had to it wasn't "jazz" but some kind of post-post-rock or something.

Side B

This side is even less 'jazzy' than side A. The first track "Portsmouth, 1783" sounds like a song by Jackie O' Motherfucker (try out "In the Willows" from the album Earth Sound System). There is an acoustic guitar and a deep mellow voice. An electric guitar adds some feedback sounds. After five minutes there comes in a flute, a clarinet, a bass and a little percussion.

I was extremly surprised by this song, because it is nice, catchy, a choir comes in in the end and that all misses out on disturbing sounds or outbursts you might wait for.

The second track "On est Un" also wakes associations with post-rock. The Carate Urio Orchestra plays the music they want to and they do not seem to care a lot about names, labels, or borders between different music genres. That is what I like about them.

After their last album Lubljana, it was a little surprising listening to Garlic & Jazz because it took a great step away from jazz in a more classical sense. This record sounds as if it came the other way around: I started listening to music with real interest in the 90s with grunge and alternative rock. From there is a way into noise and improvised music and jazz and freejazz. Garlic & Jazz sounds like an attempt to create music from that angle and leaving the well-known structures (of rock) behind.

It is a nice album though I think next time there could be more surprises or stones in the landscape the listener stumbles upon. On both sides.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Chet Doxas - Rich in Symbols (Ropeadope, 2017) ****

By Paul Acquaro

Chet Doxas' Rich in Symbols has just been placed into my guilty pleasures playlist - but it's not one to feel guilty about at all, it's just so rich and flavorful that there is no way it can be good for me.

Brooklyn based Doxas works often with trumpeter David Douglas (who has a guest turn) and plays saxophone and synthesizer - the latter of which plays an important role on this album. Helping to bring Doxas' vision to life is Matthew Stevens on guitar, Zack Lover on bass, and Eric Doob on drums.

For Rich in Symbols, Doxas draws inspiration from the art scene centered around the Lower East Side / East Village in the early 1980s. Close your eyes and imagine works by Nan Goldin, Robert Mapplethorpe, Fab Five Freddy, Futura, Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Robert Longo as the uplifting opener plays.

The straight ahead beat, pulsating rhythm, and anthemic melody of  'While You Were Sleeping' is set to bring you back to a time that perhaps only exists in hazy retrospect, but still captures the zeitgeist of a scene in its prime and not yet beset by death and gentrification. The following track, 'Starcrossings' (see video below) is another example of synthesizer flair, a firm modern jazz/rock melody and a deliciously spiky guitar solo from Stevens.

Doxas' musical aesthetic is fairly well set, all tracks feature excellent and well thought out playing, but they also tread a similar sonic landscape: lots of open spaces and elongated melodic lines. However, this is also not entirely true, as for example, 'Hot Ones' is an exciting departure with some driving rhythms and a bright quick theme. Finally, the closing track 'We Made a Lie Together', features one of Doxas' most vibrant solos.

Rich in Symbols is a fun album and interesting musical tribute to a period of creativity that seems to be coming more and more into focus.

Friday, October 20, 2017

The Middle East Is Calling

These four recent recording may just offer new, challenging perspectives on the Middle East. The Middle East as a vibrant, urgent scene for some highly imaginative and creative improvisers, working in Istanbul, Beirut and Cairo, challenging our concepts about free jazz, free improvisation and experimental music.  

Thurston Moore & Umut Çağlar - Dunia (Astral Spirits, 2017) ****

Dunia - دُنْيا - is originally an Arabic word that travelled and has incorporated into many other languages such as the Turkish, Hindi, Javanese, Swahili and even the modern Greek and Bosnian. It refers to the temporal world and its earthly concerns and possessions. Dunia is a perfect title for the duo album of American guitarist Thurston Moore, ex-Sonic Youth, and Turkish guitarist Umut Çağlar. It captures the essence of their first ever session. This limited-edition of 500 vinyls - the first vinyl release of the Astral Spirits label - and offers three improvised pieces, recorded on June 2016 at the Hayyam Stüdyoları in Istanbul, totaling in a dense and busy 32 minutes.

Dunia can be experienced as an immediate, emotional response of these gifted improvisers on the current state of our world, especially in America and Turkey. Moore and Çağlar begin with “Kensaku”, a pastoral cacophony of ringing, thorny and jangled electric strings that slowly gets more messy, tense and intense. Moore and Çağlar navigate this free-improvisation straight into the eye of a fiery, electric storm, but conclude with a few twisted-distorted bluesy lines. The second side begins with “The Red Sun”, a deafening meltdown of feedbacks, distortion and massive walls of noises. This metallic storm keeps sending more and even more extreme tsunami waves, eventually leaving you breathless and exhausted after only 15 minutes. Fortunately, Moore and Çağlar choose to end this excruciating, highly gratifying experience with the brief, rhythmic outro “Echo”, leaving some signs of hope for our shared, endangered Dunia.

Konstrukt feat. Alexander Hawkins, Alan Wilkinson & Daniel Spicer ‎–L.O.T.U.S. (Omlott/OTOroku, 2017) ****

The Turkish group Konstrukt likes to expand its sonic palette with guest musicians. Since its foundation about ten years ago, Konstrukt has collaborated with some of the most seminal improvisers - sax players Marshall Allen, Peter Brötzmann, Evan Parker, Joe McPhee and Akira Sakata, double bass player William Parker and guitarists Eugene Chadbourne and Thurston Moore. Konstrukt - reeds player Korhan Futaci, guitarist-multi-instrumentalist Çaglar, bassist Barlas Tan Özemek and drummer Ediz Hafızoğlu, first met British pianist Alexander Hawkins and reeds player Alan Wilkinson at the 2013 edition of the Austrian Konfrontationen Festival in Nickelsdorf. Two years later the quartet met again with Hawkins and recorded their live performance at London’s Café OTO (released on OTORoku/Holiday Records, 2016).

The next meeting, captured on L.O.T.U.S., happened after Konstrukt was invited to in the Brighton Alternative Jazz Festival on September 2016. Hawkins joined Konstrukt in the Brighton and on the following performance at Café OTO reeds Wilkinson and multi-instrumentalist Daniel Spicer (the director of the Brighton festival, who is also a writer and critic, broadcaster and a poet) also joined. These British improvisers share Konstrukt passion to blend free jazz with cosmic chaos tinged with exotic folk themes. Hawkins played with South African drummer Louis Moholo-Moholo and Ethiopian percussionist Mulatu Astatke and Evan Parker; Wilkinson worked with diverse free-improvisers such as Derek Bailey, Brötzmann, Chris Corsano and Thurston Moore; Spicer also worked with Moore.  

L.O.T.U.S., the twentieth release of Konstrukt, is another limited-edition of 300 double-vinyls plus download option. Its high-energy, urgent spirit is infectious. It is a free-flowing, spiritual celebration of all kinds and modes of music, past, futuristic, western and eastern ones. The seven-piece ensemble sound as a close unit that has developed an organic and open interplay, shifting and morphing the sonic palette instantly and constantly, recalling ideas from the sixties cosmic and fiery-free jazz, the seventies psychedelic electric-funky-fusion bands with sudden bursts of enchanting and exotic sounds, including some fleeting Brazilian rhythms, even flirting with modern day dance vibes.

Karkhana - For Seun Matta (Holiday, 2017) ****½

Karkhana twists Konstrukt's cosmic chaotic concept with more Middle-Eastern flavors. This supergroup, bringing together improvisers from Turkey, Çağlar who plays here on exotic reeds, Lebanese guitarist Sharif Sehnaoui, trumpeter Mazen Kerbaj (who also drew the cover) and bassist Tony Elieh, Egyptian guitarist and oud player Sam Shalabi and keyboards player Maurice Louca, plus Chicagoan drummer Michael Zerang, who is a first-generation American of Assyrian descent. Karkhana - after the Turkish word كرخانة that alludes to the selling of taboo, often prostitution, but today is often used to describe wild parties - convened for the first time in Beirut in 2014. For Seun Matta is its third album and the first one to be recorded in the studio, released on a limited-edition of 500 copies (another album of Karkhana, Al Dar al Hamra, is already in the pipeline, again, as a limited-edition vinyl in 150 copies).

Seun Matta is a mysterious character. He was called as a substitute for Elieh and Zerang during the 2017 edition of the Konfrontationen Festival, but none of Karkhana members remember much about him, if anything at all. This recording captures faithfully the powerful transcendental atmosphere of Karhana's live shows. “The Seventh Seun” that opens side A offers an hypnotic trance of surfing guitars and oud, eastern folk reeds and driving rhythms. “Pony Ride” is an hyperactive mix of thorny, krautrock-tinged guitars, exotic, funny noises, Sun-Ra-like cosmic-spacey keyboards flights and reeds that sound like erupting from ancient Master Musicians of Jajouka album, all colored by Zerang's arresting drumming. “Gavur” is an enigmatic-dreamy oriental dance that seduces the listener even deeper into the untimely sonic universe of Karhana. Shalabi leads the last piece, “Nafas Kahrouba'i”, opening with a rhythmic oud solo, then accompanied with psychedelic-bluesy guitars but later all surrender surrender to the hallucinogenic, repetitive techno-like pulse.   

Oiseaux-Tempête - AL-'AN ! الآن (And your night is your shadow — a fairy-tale piece of land to make our dreams) (Sub Rosa, 2017)

Oiseaux-Tempête is the French experimental-post-rock-noise duo of multi-instrumentalists Frédéric D. Oberland and Stéphane Pigneul. The duo’s third album was partly recorded in the Lebanese capital of Beirut, “during the year of chaos 2016”. AL-'AN ! الآن - now in Arabic - radiates the eager, urgent atmosphere of the Lebanese capital, and a fairy-tale piece of land to make our dreams is an extract from the anti-colonialist poem “The Speech of the Red Indian” by the late Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, who has lived in Beirut.

Oiseaux-Tempête ('storm birds' in French) hosts on every project guest musicians, and on AL-'AN ! الآن  they have ex-The Ex vocalist G.S. Wok, Lebanese vocalists Tamer Abu Ghazaleh and Youmna Saba, who plays here on the oud, fellow Lebanese guitarists Sharif Sehnaoui and Charbel Haber and French-Lebanese sax player Stéphane Rives. Adding to the local sessions from Beirut many field recordings and electronica layers, courtesy of Mondkopf (aka Paul Régimbeau).

AL-'AN ! الآن  offers a series of dense, labyrinthine soundscapes that capture Beirut state-of mind, a city that seizes the day, knowing that tomorrow all may collapse. These suggestive, intense soundscapes may sound at first as a Middle-Eastern, electronics-colored variations of the massive sonic blows of the Swans. But deeper listenings will highlight the hidden layers and nuances, especially in the most open and risk-taking moments. The most moving pieces are the ones when Oiseaux-Tempête add vocalists to their detailed soundscapes. Like the innocent plea of Tamer Abu Ghazale on “I Don’t Know, What or Why” or the quote of the great Lebanese singer Fairouz singing “Ya Habibi” on “Carnaval”. But it is the charismatic delivery of Darwish, reading - in Arabic - from his poem “The Strangest Creature on Earth” on “The Offering” and the like-minded delivery of G.S Wok reading - in English - excerpts from Darwish’s The Speech of the Red Indian”, that keeps lingering in your mind. Both Darwish and G.W. Sok recite these poetic texts with great conviction but also in a surprising reserved manner, that only emphasizes the painful message: 
Once a people, / now we'd rather flock to the land of birds. / We'll take a peek at our homeland through stones, / glimpse it through openings in clouds, / through the speech of stars, / through the air suspended above lakes, / between soft tassel fringes in ears of corn.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

Wadada Leo Smith - Solo: Reflections and Meditations on Monk (TUM Records, 2017) *****

By Nicola Negri

In a career spanning almost five decades, Wadada Leo Smith has explored every possible ensemble combination, from solo to orchestra and everything in between. Of all these performative dimensions, the unaccompanied solo is especially important. Smith’s first album as a leader, Creative Music–1, released on his own Kabell label in 1971, was indeed a solitary endeavor, and found the musician already working on what would become Ankhrasmation, a music theory and notation system that provides compositional accuracy while leaving ample room for spontaneous creativity. The solo dimension allowed Smith to investigate the boundaries of composition and improvisation without the external constraints inevitably present in an ensemble setting, in search of his own identity as a performer/composer.

Solo: Reflections And Meditations On Monk continues Smith’s personal exploration of the solo performance, but is also, in many respects, a real surprise. A multi-faceted reflection on Thelonious Monk’s music and personality, the record comprises four original compositions by Smith and four titles taken from Monk’s extensive catalog: Ruby, My Dear, Reflections, Crepuscule with Nellie and ’Round Midnight.

Even if always aware of the jazz tradition, and often referencing past masters in the titles of his pieces, Smith has usually focused on his own compositional work and has never recorded such well-known standards before. Moreover, as the trumpeter himself points out in the liner notes, Monk is not the first name that comes to mind when thinking about him. And yet, not only Monk has been an early model for Smith, the perfect example of the performer/composer he aspired to be, but many aspects of Monk’s distinctive style may be seen as the stepping stones over which Smith has built his own vision. An idiosyncratic view of rhythm organization, and the crucial importance of silence in shaping the musical discourse, are elements common to both, as is a certain attitude towards improvisation, where the tension between structural integrity and creative freedom makes for a constantly fresh and unpredictable musical experience. On a more immediate level, for both of them, there’s an instrumental voice so peculiar and unique that can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.

Smith performs the four Monk’s compositions on this record with affectionate respect, presenting the themes in a simple, straightforward manner, while the following developments mark the distance between Smith’s inventive interpretations and any traditional jazz treatment. There are oblique references to the underlying harmonic structures and melodic contours, but the compositions are somehow observed from a distance, caressed and reconsidered, playing with a certain mood inherent in the pieces, while reaching a subterranean dimension that illuminates them from within. The results are breathtaking. Smith shows with disarming simplicity how every little sound, every subtle inflection can alter the perception of otherwise familiar compositions; how creative music can combine composition and improvisation in a seamless musical expression, free of technical or stylistic constraints.

The four original compositions that complete the album maintain the same feeling, and are among the best penned by Smith in recent years – and that is saying a lot, given the constantly excellent level of his writing. Inspired by films and images of Monk – the ring on his finger, the quirky dancing on stage – these pieces manage to evoke his music without openly referencing it, fully preserving Smith’s personality and compositional style.

More than a tribute to a beloved musician, this album is a profound, poignant meditation on the mysterious affinities between two masters of Afro-American music, and a refreshing reminder of how Avant-garde and tradition are indeed complementary aspects of the same musical substance.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Noël Akchoté - All I Have To (Solo Series) ****

By Lee Rice Epstein

All I Have To Say (s/r, 2017)
All I Should’ve Said (s/r, 2017)
All I Forgot To Say (s/r, 2017)

Earlier this year, guitarist Noël Akchoté released a solo triptych, All I Have To Say, All I Should’ve Said, and All I Forgot To Say, recorded in March, April, and May, respectively, of this year. For an artist with so many hundreds of albums to his name, both as leader and as supporting member, it’s near impossible to describe something as a must-own or some kind of definitive statement. And while these aren’t necessarily the latter, this triptych does feel like a major statement and sincere attempt to speak, via guitar, as directly and plainly as possible.

The layering of blues, jazz, free improvisation, and rock are all filtered through Akchoté’s singular guitar playing. The overall shape and movement of the three albums takes you through long sections of Akchoté’s catalog, before giving over to his interpretations of a wide array of jazz classics, including Ornette, Haden, and Motian, each of whom he’s previously recorded tributes to. Then, there are the takes on mid-to-late 20th century American classics. His take on “Bird On a Wire” is ridiculously sublime. Restrained and heartfelt, it’s an absolutely gorgeous reading of Leonard Cohen’s classic, made all the more effective as Akchoté finishes this by tearing into Keith Jarrett and Sam Brown’s “Take Me Back.” Later on All I Have To Say, he reprises this moment with a brief reading of Willie Nelson’s “Crazy,” but instead follows it with Ornette’s “Sadness.” An interesting thing about Akchoté and Mary Halvorson’s continued collaboration is that each can record a solo take on the same track and have such diverse interpretations. (Halvorson also recorded Akchoté’s “Chesire Hotel” on her solo album, Meltframe). The effect is recreated again on All I Should’ve Said when he takes on John Coltrane’s “Cherryco,” which is followed by Ornette’s “Law Years.”

Because I’m not a guitar player myself, I often find it difficult to explain what’s special about a particular musician. But there is something so uniquely unquantifiable about Akchoté, both as a composer and a performer. In a brief interview, Halvorson describes his openness and wide range of music knowledge, and I’m most struck by the remarkable manner in which he synthesizes all this into his expressive style. In that sense, this All I… series is absolutely a must-own and very much a statement release, allowing a listener to home in on Akchoté, very much exposed in this solo setting, and take him at his word.

Available on Bandcamp

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Noël Akchoté - Complete Recordings (Plays Anthony Braxton) ****½

By Lee Rice Epstein

As far as I’m aware, the only other large-scale interpretations of Anthony Braxton’s music have been the two sets of his notated piano music, by Hildegard Kleeb and Geneviève Foccroulle. Here, however, guitarist Noël Akchoté tackles roughly 40 years of Braxton’s evolution, chronologically tracing a line from 1967’s “Composition 6C” to the final Ghost Trance Music composition, “Composition 360,” one of Braxton’s accelerator whip pieces (most of which, though not this one, appeared on the landmark 9 Compositions (Iridium) 2006).

Starting with the obvious, there are no straight covers.. Everything is filtered through Akchoté’s rich, delicate playing, whether on acoustic or electric guitar, or guitar synthesizer. The full 4 hours and 30 minutes were recorded over a 6-day recording session, 14–20 May 2016, in Paris. Even with the wealth of material one could spend decades listening to, I’m still curious if there are alt. takes or false starts to hear, so deep is Akchoté’s dedication to de- and re-constructing Braxton’s mammoth discography.

One excellent place to start is “Composition 255,” which is performed on guitar synthesizer. The multiphonics allow Akchoté to truly explore the different, sometimes contrary, directions Braxton might go in. In the span of “Part 3,” for example, there’s the clear line of a GTM composition, but it's at odds with a contemporaneous improvisation. In the span of 2 minutes and 20 seconds, Akchoté lays bare much of what makes Braxton unique, that is the many ways his compositions balance these varied lines and spontaneous improvs into a cohesive whole. And Akchoté does this over and over again, most often in the span of a minute.

Some of the more recognizable, “classic” Braxton compositions fall into the areas 6, 23, 40, and 69. On many of these, Akchoté plays acoustic guitar, which gives the readings a playful edge, as with “69 A,” where fingerings and fret buzz fill in the space surrounding the melody. “6 I” is incredibly layered, with Akchoté multi-tracking his acoustic guitar and exposing a bluesy side to the notably jaunty melody.

I feel like it’s too easy for me to fall back on noting what an incredible accomplishment this is, purely from a programming perspective, and it certainly is one. But it wouldn’t be as remarkable a collection without Akchoté’s superb performances. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in Akchoté, Braxton, or guitar, in general.

The complete recordings are available on Akchoté’s Bandcamp in individual releases:
Or as a single release from various big box digital retailers.

Monday, October 16, 2017

James Blood Ulmer & The Thing – Baby Talk (Trost Records) ****½

By Gustav Lindqvist

This is not a James Blood Ulmer album. This is not a The Thing Album. If that’s only what you’re after I can highly recommend the magnificent Blood’ album ‘Tales of Captain Black’ from 1979, or The Thing’s ‘BOOT! from 2013.

Furthermore, one simply cannot say what James Blood Ulmer is, as far as genres go. Is he jazz? Is he funk? Is he rock or blues? Is he ‘someone-who-took-Jimi-Hendrix-playing-to-the-next-level’?
I’m just going to leave it at this: he’s James Blood Ulmer. He’s a living legend as far as breaking boundaries in cross-genre guitar playing goes.

And what’s The Thing? In short – as I’m sure you all know them; it’s a tour de force jazz mulisha at its very finest, never afraid – always ready to throw bold ideas in the mix, run it over a couple of times, and spit it out. Composed by a trio musicians who’s played with everyone everywhere. Reading their individual discography is exhausting. With reedist Mats Gustafsson, (Fire! Orchestra, and releasing albums with everyone on the free jazz scene, it feels like), bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten (Atomic, Fredrik Nordström Quintet, Townhouse Orchestra and many, many others) and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love (Atomic, Frode Gjerstad Trio, The Peter Brötzmann Chicago tentet just to mention a few) – The Thing is …The Thing.

But it is also a band which happens to often meet with their heroes, live and on tape. We, fans of The Thing, have been blessed with great releases such as Immediate Sound (2001, with Ken Vandermark), Collider (2016, with DKV Trio) and Metal (2012, with Barry Guy), just to mention a few. In that aspect it’s not that surprising to see James Blood Ulmer taking the stage with The Thing during the 2015 Molde International Jazz Festival.

Before listening to this album I sat for a while just staring at the cover. What was this going to be like? I was starting to feel afraid that on this album I would hear The Thing either eat Ulmer alive, especially live, with Mats Gustafsson leading the way like a rabid dog. Or that The Thing would fall flat, not knowing how to see eye to eye with the legendary Ulmer. But all these feelings are of course silly, knowing what these people are capable of, on their own – or with others. What was there to worry about?

On this album I hear nothing else than the greatest of respect to what James Blood Ulmer is, whatever that is, and also with the soul, passion and force that is The Thing, intact.

The 4 original Ulmer compositions are all treated with great care albeit twisted, turned and re-invented.

It starts off with Interview. Ulmer introduces the theme which is a dissonant run of notes which Ingebrigt Håker Flaten follows just behind, like a chase. It’s very elegant. We’re not left with who’s winning though, Flaten leaves Ulmer for another direction and changes the pace. He’s inviting the others to the party. Nilssen-Love and Gustafsson jumps straight in. The elegant chase is transformed into an intense dance. Ulmer’s not late to join The Thing in their typical way of playing while still keeping his distinct and personal tone.

Second song High Yellow is also introduced by Ulmer, however this time there’s less patience shown before The Thing picks up the pace to start twisting the song around. Nilsson-Love can really be heard like the master he is in this song. He’s got such a big sound, yet I love how he’s a participator and a creative force throughout the album. However Ulmer’s never left alone, and is never drowned. Mats joins and immediately brings his best lyrical playing to the table. They all bring on the full intensity for a couple of minutes, making sure they’ve explored every corner of the song, before eventually they start to stumble, almost like rolling an uneven stone down a hill, towards those last notes. Ulmer closes the song and I wonder where this is going.

I couldn’t have expected what was to come. Ulmer introduces a kind of naïve tune, or something from a children’s songbook – Baby Talk is the name of the third song. The Thing accepts the challenge and starts the adventure with changing around the tune in different directions. You can always here Ulmer right there, he never misses a note, even when Gustafsson brings on his best (worst?) nightmare. Eventually we’re brought back to the original theme and it’s over.

The last song Proof is one scary yet fantastic piece of music.

It’s lyrical, simple, bluesy, dark, sad and absolutely brilliant. I sat like on needles waiting for Mats to join in. He does, but perhaps not like you’d think. Not together with Flaten and Nilsson-Love, not like a speeding train, and not alone like a whirling dervish in some manic mental state of mind. The Thing waits patiently while Ulmer sets the stage before Mats edgy baryton starts to sing together with Ulmer; moaning & calling. Ingebrigt’s bass is heard surrounding them like someone walking right beside them. Is he a friend or a foe? Mats pleading and calling builds up with increasing intensity while Ulmer keeps playing the theme repeatedly, with small varations. About half-way through the song, scene changes. The tension that has been built up must be released. There’s no other solution than to ask for help. Nilsson-Love to the rescue. He’s leading the way, guiding Ulmer, Gustafsson and Flaten back to safety. We’re left with that great feeling you get after hearing something very special. If only there was more songs. 33 minutes is not enough. I’m not sure there will be that many opportunities to hear James Blood Ulmer & The Thing together again, if ever.
Having said that, I highly recommend that you pick this one up.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

The October Revolution Part 2: Saturday and Sunday

The weekend's festivities kicked off out on the Race St. Pier, which juts out into the Delaware River at the foot of the Ben Franklin bridge. The performance was the work of composer John Luther Adams entitled "Across the Distance", specifically written for a couple dozen french horns.

Saturday afternoon, Race St Pier and Fringe Arts

A member of Orchestra 2001 performing John Luther Adams' Across the Distance
Dozen's of french horn players from Philadelphia's Orchestra 2001 were making their way slowly up and down the Race Street pier. Cars and trucks on I-95 sped by and the commuter rail up on the Ben Franklin bridge passed by with a clatter, but down on the pier a reverential quiet blanketed the otherwise noisy space. Through this atmosphere, at seemingly random intervals, the wandering musicians would play short sequences of notes. Soon, another horn player would begin a similar sequence, and maybe on the other side of the pier, a third voice joined. The overlapping arpeggios and sustained notes created a calming and hypnotic effect, and against the flow of the river, the flow of the traffic, and the deliberate flow of the musicians, a full day of music began.

Son of Goldfinger: David Torn, Ches Smith, Tim Berne
The festival moved back inside Fringe Arts - kind of a welcome reprieve from the unseasonably hot day - and guitarist and soundscapist David Torn took the stage with percussionist Ches Smith and saxophonist Tim Berne under the group name Son of Goldfinger. A small enthusiastic crowd gathered to luxuriate in the guitar tech wizard Torn's live sound manipulations and Berne's obtuse and complex melodic creations. However it was Smith who kicked things off by cuing up an electronic frequency which prompted Torn to unleash the theremin within. Striking, muting, and tapping the strings, he pulled and pried sounds of his guitar and looming cabinet of technology. The group picked up in intensity and Berne, playing a solid stream of melodic ideas, began buzzing in the mid-register of the horn and Torn began tearing it up. The trio interspersed long meditative sections and blistering attacks, of which the noisy parts were the most interesting. Smith took a solo towards the end that wove odd metered and unresolved patterns into a MC Escher like illusion. A rather inconclusive ending came in the guise of a blown amp, but overall a neat set paving the way for Tim Berne's own group, Snakeoil, appearing later in the afternoon.

Zena Parkins and Brian Chase Duo
Harpist/sound manipulator Parkins' harp is much more than a harp - in fact, I wonder if harp is even the right word for it. It's a controller, hooked up to a wild assortment of electronics and finally into an amplifier. As she and drummer Brian Chase kicked off their set, it sounded like she was playing bass. Also to note, she was playing the frame of the instrument, not the harp strings themselves. Chase, with mallets in hand and at a conventional kit, kept it simple, that is until he began to disassemble pieces of his high-hat to get some other percussive sounds. The duo was intense, Parkins provided a mix of tone and attack as she looped her sounds into an impressive stack. Chase's playing was responsive and provided a strong pulse, if not time. There is a bit of theater attached as well in Parkin's lunging and rhythmic swoons at the harp, and here working both the physical and the musical, they reached an apex. They continued through several other improvisations and the range of sounds Parkin's can create is mindboggling: digging into rhythmic strums, pulling out stinging single notes, and scratching out synthesized tones. The two work quite well together and their mid-afternoon set was a highlight.

Tim Berne's Snakeoil
Snakeoil has been Berne's main vehicle for his compositions over the past several years. A spate of albums on ECM have ranged from excellent to even more excellent, the most recent Incidentals is a masterful album, the second featuring the group augmented by guitarist Ryan Ferrier, who was not playing with the group today. The line-up in addition to Berne: reeds player Oscar Noriega, pianist Matt Mitchell, and drummer Ches Smith. Smith again kicked things off, this time with a bunch of small percussion, while Noriega readied his Bb clarinet and proceeded to play a gentle melody along with Mitchell. Only after a good stretch, Berne came in, while Smith provided some contrast on the vibraphone. Noriega switched to bass clarinet and he worked a melody together with Mitchell, the group pulled together in all their complexity. One complaint is that Mitchell's acoustic piano could not cut through the group 's sound strongly and some of the bass' function was lost, causing the music to float a little more than usual. However, the upshot was that Smith's unusual work on the timpani and vibraphone gained some extra prominence. To my ears, the strength of Berne's compositions is how he sets up his musical contraptions, whose components always come together to create beautifully challenging musical jigsaw puzzles.

Saturday Night, Fringe Arts

Art Ensemble of Chicago
This was it, the event that everyone had been talking about. The Art Ensemble of Chicago, which had been started in Chicago in the mid-to-late 1960s has grown and changed over the years, and as this concert proved, is still a relevant and important force in finding and pushing the edges of the avantgarde. The current version is founding member Roscoe Mitchell on woodwinds; Hugh Ragin on trumpet, flugelhorn and piccolo trumpet; Tomeka Reid on cello; Jaribu Shahid and Junius Paul on double-bass; and Famoudou Don Moye on drums. 

The group came out on stage and faced east. Mitchell played a single note, they took their playing positions, and Paul launched into an extensive bass solo. He was then joined by Shahid and Moye for a brief interlude, and then the second bassist took over. Ragin took a quick turn on the piccolo trumpet as Mitchell readied his soprano sax. As the focus shifted to Mitchell, he let loose a torrent of squeals and squeaks in the extended range of the instrument. Coupled with circular breathing, the effect was both jarring and soothing in some manner. He kept this theme going after cueing in the group, adding more notes from the lower register. Ragin took over next, for an extensive solo, and then it was Reid's turn. She really stood out as she spun a engrossing fast paced passage full of double and triple stops. In fact in a few conversations with concert-goers afterwards they basically said they were utterly smitten with her playing. The quality of the music only increased over the course of the set. Towards the end, Moye's received some spotlight, and the drummer who had moved between hand percussion and kit over the course of the set, led the group energetically into their closing theme. The group came back for a short encore and the audience was left on a wonderfully disoriented high - the hour set seemed to have passed in mere minutes.

Mike Lorenz Trio
Serving up a sweet digestive after the heavy meal, the Mike Lorenz trio (Lorenz  on guitar, James Collins on organ, and  Kevin Ripley on drums) took over the small corner stage of the Le Peg restaurant located in the front of the Fringe Arts building. With people filtering in an out of the biergarten, the group played music from the book of Sonny Sharrock. An unusual cover band for sure, and they shaped the guitarists woolly compositions into a neat trio format. Quite a night!

Sunday Afternoon, Fringe Arts

Saturday's heat became even more oppressive on this rainy Sunday, and an equatorial (or at least Floridian) humidity saturated the air. A performance on the Pier scheduled for noon was cancelled and the show began inside Fringe Arts with the sax and drums duo of Jim Sauter and Kid Millions.

Jim Sauter and Kid Millions 
Sauter is one of the saxophonists from the heavy noise/jazz group Borbetomagnus and Millions (Jim Colpitts) the drummer of rock band Oneida. The two together were a force of nature - and it was loud - from the opening blat of Sauter's sax, nothing but energy poured forth from the duo. The extreme feedback from Sauter's towering amplifier, to the string of pedals he ran his instrument through guaranteed hearing damage for those without ear plugs, but between the textures of his sounds and the structure in Million's patterns, an interesting - though not for the faint of heart - music emerged. It was certainly a jolt of energy in the early afternoon.

Sunday Afternoon, Old City

After the opening event, the action shifted up into to old city. Just a quick walk up Race St, under the thunder of I-95, the old city is a mix of buildings and homes from the 18th century and modern glass monstrosities from the 2017's. How Betsy Ross' home fits into this changing landscape is interesting to ponder as one walked towards Christ Church - founded in 1695 - through the streets teeming with art galleries, book shops, cafes and tourists attending the old city festival. 

Mike Reed's Flesh and Bone
Drummer Mike Reed's septet Flesh and Bone performed in an attic hall of one of Christ Church's outer buildings. Set up against the backdrop of projector screens, the group played an excellent mix of avantgarde/contemporary jazz laced with passionate spoken word. The group, an assemblage of Chicago musicians featured Greg Ward on alto saxophone, Tim Haldeman on tenor saxophone, Jason Roebke on bass, Ben Lamar Gay on cornet, Jason Stein on bass clarinet, Marvin Tate on vocals, and Reed on drums. The group recently released their eponymous album which was inspired by an incident in Poland where Reed ran into a Neo-Nazi rally. Underscored by the recent unravelling of America, the incident caused a great deal of reflection on life for Reed and he tried to capture it in music (and words) with the group. The concert was an absolute joy - with Stein and Ward possibly taking top honors. Though I have always been a fan of Stein's bass clarinet playing, his solo performed against the backdrop of crude computer animated vectors ran the gamut of the instrument's capabilities and set a bar for the group. Rooted in traditional jazz and blues but searching for new sounds and open to all ideas, Reed has crafted an exciting concept which was brought to life by the group. In fact, in the second piece a deep bass groove over a straight ahead beat and tandem improvisation from Stein and Ward would have been good enough for me the whole show, but bring in the octet and Reed's contemporary, but timeless arrangements, and it was a sensory feast.

Cortex:  Gard Nilssen, Ola Høyer, Kristoffer Berre Alberts, Thomas Johansson
This quartet of bad ass Norwegians have released several albums on Clean Feed, one of the more recent ones was from a concert at iBeam in Brooklyn from a few years back, and it caught the band's energy well, but nothing compares to seeing them in a several hundred year old church with its aged acoustics and connotations of freedom and revolution. Trumpeter Thomas Johansson, saxophonist Kristoffer Berre Alberts, bassist Ola Høyer, and drummer Gard Nilssen did not let the concert goers down, their precise playing and concise melodic heads gave way to fierce improvisations, showcasing some rare talent - Alberts playing seems to embody the spirit of Brotzmann coupled with jaw-dropping technical proficiency. While Alberts and Johansson are powerhouse improvisers a lot of credit should go the writing - crystalline and punchy, it features the exciting interplay and somehow has a synergistic effect where the two horns can fill a room - a church even - with sound. Nilssen and Hoyer root the group. They are dependable and never let a beat slip, providing a solid underlayment that no doubt lets the two horn players do what they do best.

Burton Greene  (press photo)
Hunched over at the baby grand piano at the front of the church, Burton Greene played a lovely, albeit short, set. His playing was excellent, energetic but patient. Moments of calm and placid notes were punctuated by bursts of rapid tonal clusters. The 80 year old had a youthful air, introducing compositions and pieces with stories laced with details and still had a lot of fight left in him for exploited musicians, yuppies driving up the cost of housing, and the state of politics in the US (as seen from an Ex-pats eyes). His impromptu lecture after the set was as riveting as his song dedicated to Sun-Ra ('Space is Still the Place') and a Monkish be-bop piece he's been working over for 60 years dedicated to Bud Powell. Greene also performed at the original October Revolution festival in 1964, making his appearance here of both historical and musical importance. A real treat.

Ballister: Dave Rempis, Paal Nilssen-Love, Fred Lonberg-Holm 
I was highly anticipating Ballister's set. The trio of Chicagoans Dave Rempis (sax) and Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello), and Norwegian Paal Nilssen-Love (drums) is powerhouse of noisy jazz. In fact, from the first hit, Rempis tore into his sax and PnL was thunderous presence, nearly drowning out Lonberg-Holm's effect laden cello work. That is, until a sudden break where Lonberg-Holm's non-cello sounding cello sounds erupted into electronic shards and splinters. Ballister isn't all power however, dropping the dynamics, Rempis pulled out some yearning melodic lines to play with the cellist, whose instrument's acoustic properties mixed with the crunch of his pedals congealing into a sharp and delicate sound. The band spent a but of time tossing about small interactions in reserved tones, which helped make the next time they went full throttle that much more intense. Between the ebbs and flows, Rempis and PnL slowly brought the music back to boil, while Lonberg-Holm rearranged the audience's ear-drums. When Rempis switched to the baritone sax, the next storm was approaching. 

Perhaps drawn to the pleasures of the old city festival or exhausted from the incredible stretch of music starting on Thursday night, it was a smaller but dedicated crowd. After the Balllister show, the festival returned to Fringe Arts for the performance of local artist Moor Mother and then So Percussion. However, after bidding goodbye to folks outside Fringe Arts, I too headed back to my car and to the reality of the coming week. 

Overall the festival was an incredible survey of of experimental and avantgarde musicians and music. Curated with care and attention paid to details, the whole event was a pleasure to attend and I look forward to seeing how Ars Nova builds on its success. Long live the revolution, I'm looking forward to it coming around again!

Saturday, October 14, 2017

The October Revolution: Part 1, Thursday and Friday

The October Revolution concert festival held Oct 5th through 8th in Philadelphia hinged its name on the seminal summit from October of 1964, organized by trumpeter Bill Dixon at an uptown Manhattan space, back when rents were low and revolution was in the air. That festival is considered one of the galvanizing moments for Free Jazz. Cecil Taylor, Sun-Ra, Burton Greene, and many others were involved with the music making and discussion panels.

Last week, located in and near the historic revolution-era old city (currently in a hyper gentrification revolution), this October Revolution was a thoughtfully curated event that showcased some established but very relevant acts like the Art Ensemble of Chicago and Anthony Braxton to energetic European upstarts Cortex and reps from the contemporary Chicago scene, and beyond.

The organizer, Ars Nova, has been instrumental in organizing concerts in Philadelphia over the past several years, and with this festival, they seem to have set the bar high for themselves. The concerts, while primarily centered at the Fringe Arts building at the base of the Ben Franklin Bridge near Penn's Landing, also extended into the old city on its final day with concerts at the historic Christ Church (where George Washington attended) and where the festival mingled with an old city arts and food festival.

Thursday, Oct 5th, Fringe Arts:

The Sun-Ra Arkestra
The revolution started without me. I was in transit as Karuna opened the festival. The group featured percussionists Hamid Drake and Adam Rudolph, and multi-instrumentalist Ralph Miles Jones, and I was told, from some reputable sources, that it was an exciting concert.

However, I did get to see was the Sun-Ra Arkestra and band leader Marshall Allen impressed the hell out of me. At 93, Allen is still a force of avant-garde music making to reckon with, leading the group through Sun Ra's seminal album Space is the Place. While his EWI - used to invoke our placement in space - was a bit too loud, his saxophone was right on in pure skronk mode.

Singer/Violinist Tara Middleton, reed player Danny Ray Thompson, and trumpeter Michael Ray (I believe) provided a musical grounding along with stellar solos, while other members of the band helped to carry out the hi-jinx that the band is renowned for. It seems only the guy sitting next to me seemed disappointed that Sun-Ra wasn't actually performing - the overall assessment is that it was a lot of fun. 

Friday Oct 6th, Fringe Arts.

Dave Burrell, solo piano
Friday opened with a 'secret concert' which I was delighted to attend. Upon entering Fringe Arts, we were herded through to the green room, where pianist Dave Burrell sat at the Steinway piano against an unfinished brick wall. He began with a standard, very straight ahead, very sweet. However, that is but one side of the rapidly swinging pendulum of his music, as without pause, the notes became ragged, punchy, abstract, only to be reigned back into harmoniousness a moment later. The gentle swing between in and out playing was mesmerizing, comforting and challenging in the same breath. Burrell played a mixture of his own compositions like 'Tear Drops for Jimmy', and the lighthearted stride piano laced 'Margy Pargy' as well as standards like his reflective take on John Coltrane's 'Naima'.

Following the set, Are Nova announced that the festival will be happening again next year, same weekend.

Claire Chase, solo flute
The first proper concert of Friday night was flutist Claire Chase who appeared in silver pants under blue lights on the darkened stage. On the sparse stage adorned only a table holding her flutes, Chase began with Edgard Varèse's 1936 solo flute piece 'Density 21.5'. The sparse melody was suspended in the room around her through rich ambient reverb and she effortlessly command the audience's attention with her dramatic sweeps and embodiment of the music.

The next song found Chase using a flute with a sliding embouchure hole (glissando head joint invented by flutist Robert Dick). From deep guttural tones to soaring notes, Chase augmented her playing with electronics to create a mesmerizing interplay of sound, motion, and light. Her multiphonic dreamscape expanded in the next piece which incorporated electronic concepts by pianist Vijay Iyer into the performance. Her penultimate piece involved members of the audience and Ars Nova staff, drawing them into a circle on stage and outfitting them with bottles and other small instruments. Chase, at first on pan flute and later the bass flute, instructed her 'orchestra' when to play and improvised over and around them. The final piece was an audience participation exercise from the late Pauline Oliveros. Chase's detailed choreography and improvisational prowess made for an impressive performance. 

Anthony Braxton, Solo Saxophone
Like he was getting up to bat in game of baseball, reedist Anthony Braxton loosened his shoulders and adjusted his grip as he picked up his saxophone. He presented a series of key clicks before a tone even passed through the the instrument, but then his sound was alive - energetic and oscillating between quick runs and legato phrases. Braxton's playing is a rich biosphere, the deep fertile layers of the initial runs provide the foundation for the lighter layers of melody and fleeting asides. The music breathed, there was nothing anaerobic about it.

Braxton held his sax up high and arced his back slightly as he played, and the instrument seemed like a tool in his hands, being used to construct something special, he was not just playing. The audience was enthralled as he launched into the next piece, which began with a series of squeaks and throaty descending runs that brought the piece to a close. Braxton also delved into some standards, playing a lovely rendition of Thelonius Monk's 'Ruby, My Dear' and an ebullient version of the Miles Davis classic 'Four', which spawned variations of the melody that went out, remaining spiritually, if not thematically, connected to the tune.

A humorous moment occurred as someone who was recording on his iPhone accidentally clicked play. As if on cue, what Braxton just played was played back to Braxton, quite audible to all. Taking it in stride, Braxton cracked a joke and then pausing before his closing composition, acknowledged the broader political and artistic climate. "I don't need to tell you about how complex these times are," he said, "But there is nothing like creativity and positive energy to help get through it." And with these practical words and a the subsequent uplift of the final piece, the audience dispersed into the night, some pausing to enjoy the beer garden on the oddly warm evening.