Having now passed my fortieth year, I have started re-watching the films, re-listening to the music and re-reading the books I found interesting when I was a younger man. Much to my surprise, a lot of the media I enjoyed was actually very good! While a younger me might not have been able to articulate in any sophisticated way what was interesting about the media, as such, I like to imagine I was grasping onto something about which I had some sort of sense to enjoy, but no corresponding concepts with which to fully engage.
The most obvious, and embarrassing, example I can think of was when I was reprimanded in my secondary school history class: I was avoiding doing my work by reading, in full view of the teacher, Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra (this is about as violent as my rebellious streak ever got). My history teacher, a more intelligent and patient man than my frequent misbehaviour would suggest, stormed to the back of the classroom to see what I was reading – he burst out laughing when he saw the cover of the book and asked ‘do you have any idea what that’s about?’ – I said ‘yes, of course’ (I didn’t have even the remotest clue). The next day he turned up with a copy of On the Genealogy of Moralityand told me it was more accessible. I eventually went on to write a PhD thesis comparing Nietzschean models of agency (unfavourably) to Hegelian models of agency – so while it takes a long time for ideas to percolate fully from a page to my limited mind, percolate they eventually do.
The same is true for aesthetic judgments. When I was 17 I decided (for some reason I cannot remember) to try and get into jazz. I immediately fell in love with John Coltrane and Miles Davis. If you’d asked me why I enjoyed thismusic in particular, I suspect I wouldn’t have been able to give you an intelligent, or even coherent, response. Something about ‘the toots and the beats’ grabbed me, but I suspect his wouldn’t be a satisfying answer to the jazz community.
Perhaps the first time I hit my aesthetic maturity (or at least something resembling it) where I started learning, and being able to articulate why I liked the things I did came when I heard Chief Xian aTunde Adjuah’s Centennial Trilogy (Ropeadope Records, 2017). I found each track immediately accessible, it was like having my ears opened to a whole new range of information. The albums were satisfying on a technical level, and yet they were also clear . Eight years later and I still listen to these albums through in their entirety – they have neither staled nor spoiled, retaining their ability to excite and engage.
Perhaps the first time I’ve felt quite this passionately about an album was with Ches Smith’s masterpiece, Clone Row. I cannot work out, and at this point I am too afraid to ask, how to correctly pronounce the name of the album. On the one hand Clone Row would appear to be a pun based on Schoenberg’s twelve tone ‘tone row’ (living in Austria I cannot help but immediately love Schoenberg references). Thus, Clone Row would refer to a ‘line’ or ‘queue’ of clones. However, and perhaps this says more about me, when I first saw the album my brain immediately parsed this as Clone Row (row as in ‘a heated argument’), thus conjuring the image of a group of clones who aren’t getting along. Listening to the eponymous song, I’m inclined to think my initial parsing was correct - but perhaps this is the combative sci-fi nerd in me (you’ll know what I mean when you listen to the song)…anyway, I’m going to bravely call this album Clone Row (row as in argument) in conversations and I’ll look forward to the same smug social ostracism enjoyed by those who pronounce ‘gif’ ‘jif’.
Clone Row is used by Smith as a vehicle to display and showcase a talent at the height of its powers, demonstrating not only his own superlative musicianship (playing drums electronics, and ‘vibes’) but also his strengths as a composer and knower of the broader musical landscape to generate bop after bop, drawing on the extraordinary talents of Mary Halvorson - guitar (right channel), Liberty Ellman - guitar (left channel) and Nick Dunston, bass and electronics. Normally I don’t gravitate towards ‘guitar heavy’ jazz, but the performances here are all outstandingly creative, borderline otherworldly, definitely different to what I’d expect from a quartet with two guitarists (or three, depending on how you count). The performers sound energised, like they’re actually enjoying themselves, like they want you to check out this cool sound they’re making, almost as if in disbelief themselves. And perhaps they are in disbelief – Smith’s architectural edifice is astonishing to listen to – I can imagine performing it would have been mind-bending. One review (posted on Smith’s own website) describes the album thus:
So, this is a composer’s record most of all; a composer’s record performed by musicians who happen to be great improvisers.
And while I agree that this IS a composer’s record – I’m not sure I agree that it’s a composer’s record most of all– I think it is equally a record for musicians and listeners.
The opening bars of the first track (Ready Beat) sound like they’ve come straight from a Berlin night-club (non-pejorative), and just as everything is starting to feel a bit dance-y and electronic, some jarring, dial-up internet adjacent tones are thrown in alongside a meaty-sounding bass line. This first track is an excellent introduction to the album, so if you’re on the fence about investing time to listen to the whole thing, the opener will give you some (but only some) sense of what to expect there-on-out.
The album itself genre hops, taking us along Ches Smith’s astonishing technical and aesthetic range, at some points grungy, at others borderline funky; it’s not quite fusion jazz, but then it’s not quite anything. The experimentality of the album, the experimentality of New York-based (where else) Ches, is first class. If you want to convince your jazz-sceptical friends (I once heard jazz referred to as ‘the thinking man’s headache’) about the merits of free/experimental jazz, get them to listen to this. I suspect it will be my album of the year.
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