The third album of Taxi Consilium comes in its own shape. Just like how the
first two are completely different from each other, this one also arrives as
a whole new version of the quartet.
From the very beginning, the album leans into longer drone sounds, the bass
resembles the tone of artists like Peter Eldh with those deep, heavy bass
lines. What connects all of their albums is that the rhythm section always
feels heavy and deep, while the guitar and bass clarinet have a more playful
energy on top.
Every track holds an emotion that’s tightly connected to its name. The names
seem carefully chosen, almost as if they guide the way one should feel the
music. What the band has written in their description really explains why
every track carries so much inside it. Imagine yourself as a taxi driver,
collecting stories from different people, and as an empath, being able to
feel their pain. Every track is a different ride. Sometimes you collect
sadness and melancholy, and sometimes you get a sense of relief.
The third track — Mouths moving but nothing coming out — gives off a
soothing vibe. It feels like finding your own value, no matter how much the
mouths move; what really matters is what’s being heard. In this kind of
instrumental music, mouths don’t matter at all, it’s the sound that heals
the soul, helping you come back to your own truth.
The enjoyment that Taxi Consilium’s music gives is very rare, something you
don’t get from many full albums anymore. For me, it’s been a while since I
could listen to an album and vibe with every single track. It’s got that
underground, dirty sound, yet it’s deeply satisfying for the mind. Usually,
when I listen to an album, one track immediately becomes my favorite. But
with this one, it was hard to pick.
Still, as the longest one, I’m choosing [orel cat at the door]. It’s another
unusual moment for this kind of jazz record, the track starts with a long
ambient intro (and a cat sample, but pretty enjoyable for cat lovers). If I
connect this to what I mentioned earlier about the taxi driver collecting
stories, this track feels like the longest ride, and definitely the
strangest. Maybe a mysterious cat-person is in the taxi. Not the playful
child from “children longing for discipline,” but a mystic, someone with a
deep inner world. When I write about Macedonian releases, I often try to
point to something from the surroundings that might have inspired the
artists, since I’ve felt those environmental influences very deeply myself.
This one definitely comes from nature. It has an organic, earthy feel, and
its slowness captures all those sunsets on mildly rainy days out in the
open.
After that, the album continues with the familiar Taxi Consilium energy,
that uplifting rush they bring to every live show. If you’ve seen them play,
you know exactly what I mean: the joy and intensity they create wherever
they go.
Possibly the best Macedonian release of the year so far, Workin’ for the
other side — even though it carries the name of a snitch, feels like it’s
got a bright future. One of the most innovative bands to appear on the
scene, making music that’s entirely erratic, with every instrument uniquely
voiced by its player.
Umbra III is the fifth record by Umbra, the duo of Elias Stemeseder
(spinet, electronics) and Christian Lillinger (drums and electronics). This
time they have thrown pianist Craig Taborn into the mix, who blends
wonderfully into their tense, avant-garde soundworld. The album is a live
recording at the 2021 International Jazzfestival Saalfelden in Austria, but
it is studio quality, and the audience are so attentive you could hear a pin
drop.
As with much of the music coming out of Central Europe at the moment, the
listener is left wondering what is improvised and what is composed, such is
the way these elements seem to blur and merge with one another. Their
integration feels completely organic as they are swallowed up by Lillinger’s
frenetic percussion. You almost have to wonder whether this music even
needs
composed elements, as the music has such a fluid shape and the musicians
such a strong sense of the world they wish to conjure.
Lillinger’s drumming provides a complex texture: this is an ensemble very
much of equals rather than a hierarchy in any sense. It may be better to
think of the music as three percussionists; Stemeseder and Taborn both
approach their instruments in that sense rather than a melodic or harmonic
one, contributing to a sense of drive that is present throughout the record.
The record maintains this momentum even during the sparser moments, the
textures overlapping like musical tides, and at no point is any musician in
the foreground; each musician contributes equally to the unified texture.
This kind of ‘textural’ improvised music isn’t for everyone, but this record
is a good example of how much tension can be built even when the musicians
don’t seem to be actively resisting one another. It isn’t a demonstration of
technique (impressive as all three musicians are), but the production of a
soundworld. The music never really slows down, or at least never for long,
and nor does it ever become explosive, leaving me to wonder at points
whether the record has quite enough variety. The second, much shorter, track
‘TYPUS’ felt to me too similar to the first improvisation, almost a reprise.
But nonetheless, the attentive listener will find a close listen very
rewarding, as the details make for some very compelling music. The musicians
are interacting at the microscopic level, which gives a sense of deep
synchronicity. It is therefore music which requires full attention for its
subtlety to be appreciated.
I don’t want to seem like I’m setting up a strawman, but recordings with
titles like this, positing a tangible connection between Our Kind of Music
and the blues often leave me asking questions. In this case, those questions
would be
“Hey, what do you mean by Modicum?”
and
“Also, what do you mean Blues?”
There is, of course, no I-IV-V-ing going on—that would be an
abundance
of blues—and it’s more than a mere spiritual nodding—which would be a
smidgeon
. The modicum given to us by this collective of free improvisers comes in
the form of phrases, allusions, and techniques. It’s quite splendid,
actually.
For example, when Perelman and Wooley trade phrases call-and-response-ishly,
an uncanny resonance sends me back through the 20th century. They play
phrases or fragments of phrases, trumpet and reeds, that hearken as far back
as the sections of Basie and Ellington. I hear a string of notes on this
recording, and then I can hear it in the voices of Harry Edison and
Paul Gonsalves. I wouldn’t put money on it, but even the timbre of these
sections sometimes comes across with a pre-Coltrane fullness. These are
flashes, of course, sunny forest glens in the rocky terrain of their free
blowing, but it has an impact, and, while the two landscapes are different,
they are connected and always have been.
Tom Rainey and Mark Helias have become, for me, the best drum/bass team
since Dave Holland and Barry Altschul. I’ve had cause to praise each
separately in these pages in the past, now I can celebrate them together.
The reference to Holland/Altschul, of course, isn’t a shallow one. Those two
giants were central to Anthony Braxton’s mid-seventies quartet masterpieces
( Five Pieces 1975 and New York Fall 1974) another uncanny
set of music that showed us early on blues and Our Kind of Music in
conversation.
Matt Moran, finally, is the MVP of this All-Star Team. The vibes do seem to
be having a moment, but even in the current context, Moran’s playing had an
especially magical effect on me, beautiful and gnarled simultaneously, and
recorded wonderfully. It brought to mind—and I am not making this up—Milt
Jackson’s playing on that great Miles Davis and the Jazz Giants set with
“Bag’s Groove” and “The Man I Love.” Jackson is, not incidentally, the
greatest of the blues vibraphonists, but also stunning and subtle and an
absolutely necessary part of that early masterpiece’s success. The same can
be said here of Moran.
The wonder of A Modicum of Blues isn’t in its references to the
past or conversations with blues and jazz history, but the title does invite
you to make those connections. Even without those, however, the five part
suite is a five-star achievement—which feels almost obvious given the
players involved. This is a run-don’t-walk situation. As I said, 5-stars.
While not free jazz or sonically adventuresome per se, the music on Vio
3iO’s Viology possesses a modern character that delivers intriguing and
intense head-nodding vibes. A trio, ViO 3iO features Anthony Davis on drums,
Andor Horvath on bass, and Viktor Haraszti on saxophone and electronics.
Haraszti also composed the six tunes found on the album.
The album kicks off with “Bird of Passage.” Its driving beat provides
Haraszti the foundation for his Coltrane-ish sax explorations. Davis’s soul
searching on drums are also of note here – his precise taps on the snare and
his drum rolls keeps the tune sliding rambunctiously along. On “Digital
Samsara,” Davis keeps a steady but wildly syncopated beat behind Haraszti’s
stark yet beautiful full-throated lines. Listen to how the ghostly
apparitions created by the electronics weave in and out of the funky
undertow, and how the electronics evolve into an almost Bach-like fugue.
Then there’s the title cut, “Viology,” which evokes a dark blue night.
Haraszti’s bugle sax line buzzes atop the funk – a hard bop sax line
skipping along a funky maelstrom like a stone skimming the surface of water.
On “The Disappearing Real,” the musicians create a foggy ambiance that
develops into a cool blues walk. On “Echoes of Now,” Horvath uses the bow to
create a sense of foreboding beneath the electronics and Haraszti offers up
a soliloquy of legato full-bodied notes that become more active as the piece
progresses and the intensity grows. Finally, on “Analog Prayers,” the trio
create a landscape that evokes a desert passage through undulating dunes
that stretch off to the horizon.
The tunes found on Viology offer a refreshing take on using music
to create modern and transcendent atmospheres. The trio’s tasteful
articulation of evocative themes demonstrates an ability to create an
alignment of unsettling tension and beguiling beauty.
If writing about a solo recording, of any kind of instrumentation, is a
difficult task, one can imagine the difficulties that exist in creating solo
music. Talking about the former, writing about it, always revolves around
the fear that you might not get, understand, realize or whatever, what the
artist has in mind. The former seems to me much more frightening: the artist
must overcome any kind of fear, present the music as it is without the
safety the other contributors always offer. It is the artists’ bare truth
alone.
Jean-Luc Guionnet never seemed to have second thoughts about going into
unknown territories. To be honest here, he seems fearless. Starting as s
free jazz saxophonist, he quickly stepped into the shaky ground of free
improvisation. But not only that, he has been, for some years now,
experimenting outside his respected instrument, the saxophone, building a
trajectory of sounds that are as free as possible.
Here, on this live recording, he uses his alto saxophone as a medium of
exploration. Ok, I understand that the former sentence could sound like one
of those “heavy” descriptions when talking about experimental music. Quite
often stale, sterile sounds are hidden behind descriptions as such. But,
this is not the case. On both tracks, that are live recordings from 2023 and
2024, Guionnet seems to enjoy his struggle…Because it is a struggle, an
exploration of physical endurance. The first track last 36 long minutes
making it clear to the listener that he is in there to exhaust himself,
leave him breathless at the end while building sounds that are personal and
full of emotions.
In addition, made clearer at the second track I believe, he is looking for a
way to explore the dynamics of the room, where space, air and his grasp of
the instrument combine into frenzied attempts. As a listener you have the
notion that you, with your ears, are checking out this space, listening on
how the sounds come to you from different angles.
Solo saxophone recordings have always been a field of very interesting
experimentation by a number of artists. Some of them have made it clear that
there are no boundaries for the capabilities of the saxophone. Along with
the willingness of its creator to do so, this cd is one of them.
The Ava Trio comprises Giuseppe Doronzo on baritone saxophone, fluxophone,
mizmar, and gong, Esat Ekincioglu on double bass, and Pino Basile on
Cupaphon (friction drums) and percussion. They have been together for a
decade.
Their fifth album Lunae is on Tora Records, and the recording is a
wonderful, atmospheric creation, not least because of the acoustic qualities
added to the recording by it taking place in an ancient trullo in Apulia,
Southern Italy. A trullo is a conical limestone chamber that became the
band’s fourth instrument in the recording, with its echoes and
reverberations sent back to the musicians.
Recorded in Apulia, southern Italy, inside a centuries-old trullo — a
conical limestone chamber that became the band’s fourth instrument. Lunae is a site-specific, archeo-musicological exploration of sound and space. The
album evolved from Doronzo’s composition ‘Sabbatical.’
Across six lunar phases, the three musicians trace forgotten moon rituals
where sound and silence return in cycles or phases.
The opening phase (Phasis 1) is an extensive exploration of mostly
percussive sounds, from the plucked bass to the percussion and sax
intonations, the sound circling and returning in a complex pattern, often
the phrasing interweaving with the next phrase as it is issued. The effect
is intense and deeply evocative. The way the chamber echoes the sound back
sounds primal, naturalist, and powerful.
Phasis II is shorter, but no less atmospheric, with more saxophone, adding
to the vibrations and intensity of the texturally layered sound depths. The
double bass and saxophone inadvertently (or deliberately) cross paths both
in notation and tone, creating areas where the tone is incredibly rich and
the unrelenting percussive element from both strings and drums is mesmeric.
Phase III is atmospheric, with sustained notes creating suspension and
plinky, warping sonic effects, while Phasis IV is a continuation of Phasis
III but transcends into a more melodic exploration at times, underpinned
with rasping strings, and pithy sax. Phasis V is a slow build, but once it
evolves out of the void, it is superb, and Phasis VI continues the
exploration of percussion, deep bass, and other-worldly effects.
Full Moon, November AD 283
Beneath the moon’s gaze,
olive-oil workers gather in secret,
within the limestone walls of a trullo.
Their chants and rhythms spiral upward,
a devotion carved in sound,
vanishing into the night yet circling forever
Because of its unique sonic actions and the provision of textures and
resonance by the very chamber of the recording, it is difficult to describe
exactly the effect this music has. Played by the trio alone, the sound would
be intriguing and, as always, an explorative listen, but coupled with the
characteristics imparted by the limestone chamber, which feels like it
absorbs the sound and then throws it back changed, the listening experience
is incredible.
When I started listening to and collecting jazz, I tended to stay away from
groups without a drummer. I rather naively thought that drums were necessary
to give the music enough dynamics. I didn’t understand the exciting ways
that other instruments can bring their own sense of movement to the music. I
think the first time I understood this was with the Paul Bley-Evan
Parker-Barre Phillips group and their two great albums
Time Will Tell
and Sankt Gerold. I discovered Jimmy Giuffre and his trio albums
soon after that, and have been a fan of chamber jazz ever since. In
particular, I became aware of how powerful an instrument a harp could be in
improvised music when I saw Anthony Braxton’s ZIM Ensemble perform with 2
harps. (I also couldn’t help thinking what a nightmare it must be to travel
around with 2 harps.)
On Unified Field, we have cello, harp and piano and played by
Frances-Marie Uitti, Milana Zarić and Elisabeth Harnik.
Frances-Marie Uitti is a cellist and composer, and is well-known for her use
of extended techniques. Stephen Brookes wrote in the Washington Post that
"The spectacularly gifted cellist Frances-Marie Uitti has made a career out
of demolishing musical boundaries.” That sounds like someone I want to
listen to (as I think would readers of this blog). She has previously
appeared on FJB in Agustí Fernández’s Celebration Ensemble. There’s some
footage on YouTube of her playing with a two bow technique so that she
sounds like an entire ensemble.
I became even more excited to hear Unified Field as I read more
about Milana Zarić. She is a harpist who has worked extensively in both the
contemporary classical and improvised music fields, in groups both small and
large, as well as solo. She is principal harpist at the Belgrade
Philharmonic Orchestra and member of the groups Trio Timbre (flute, viola
and harp) and Ensemble Echoes (plucked string instruments and percussion).
She has performed pieces by Berio, Cage, Schafer, Stockhausen, as well as a
number of Serbian composers. She’s also worked with many artists familiar to
readers of this blog, including Biliana Vouchkova, Agustí Fernández , Butch
Morris, Rhodri Davies and Peter Evans.
Harnik should be familiar to readers of this blog as she has been reviewed
here multiple times, including a 5-star review for her tremendous solo album
Ways Of My Hands: Music For Piano. Listening to it now, I hear the wide
variety of her influences and her ability to synthesize wonderful new music
out of those influences.
On to the album. As Frances-Marie writes, she and her partners were
exploring “the intersection between plucked, bowed and hammered strings”.
The music is an intense but beautiful exploration at that. The first song,
Cryptic Symmetries, begins with a burst of sound from cello, which is
answered by a simple phrase from harp. The piano begins playing a single
note repeatedly and the piece sounds briefly like something from Morton
Feldman. But the musicians are restless and constantly looking for new music
to make on their own instruments and how best to react to their companions.
At times, they’re playing percussively, but then can switch in a moment to
sound quiet and contemplative and then bring forth a raging storm.
I’ve listened to this album many times and I find new and beautiful sounds
every time I do. This will be one of the albums of the year for me.
We've reviewed many trumpet-bass-drums trios over the years. Here's a new update on some recent material with this line-up. Styles are completely different, yet all of high quality within their subgenre. Interestingly enough, three of the trios presented here are initiated or led by bassists: John Edwards, Joe Morris and Linda May Han Oh.
John Edwards, Luis Vicente, Vasco Trilla - Choreography Of Fractures (Fundacja Słuchaj, 2025)
"Choreography Of Fractures" is my personal favourite in this list. It's a trio of British bassist John Edwards, Portuguese trumpet player Luis Vicente and Spanish percussionist Vasco Trilla. Their sound is totally open-ended and improvised. The overall tone set by the trumpet is one of melancholy and deep sadness. Vicente’s playing stretches into sensitive, resonant depths, while Edwards and Trilla intensify the sense of desolation through delicate accents and scattered sonic details that form a fractured world struggling to unify.
Vicente and Trilla have released several albums before, either in duets "A Brighter Side of Darkness", "Made of Mist", or in larger ensembles "L3" with Yedo Gibson on sax, or "Live At 1st Spontaneous Music Festival", on "Muracik", "Dog Star", "Chaos And Confucius", "Gravelshard", and I've probably missed a few. The collaboration with Edwards is a winning situation. The music remains wholly unpredictable; even within its sensitivity, it can become harsh and ferocious without growing louder, relying instead on sheer expressive force. Edwards delivers remarkable tone and presence, both in plucked passages and bowed ones. Its relentless intensity is phenomenal.
This is surely one for my end-of-year-list. I'll share also a video below of a performance by the trio. I'm hesitating to share it because the album is even better.
Joe Morris, Tyshawn Sorey , Peter Evans - Comprehensive (Fundacja Słuchaj, 2025)
"Comprehensive" is presented by Joe Morris on bass, Tyshawn Sorey on drums and Peter Evans on trumpet and piccolo trumpet. It is equally outstanding and highly recommended. None of the three musicians need an introduction. Morris and Sorey have performed together before in various bands, Sorey and Evans did on Ingrid Laubrock's "Serpentines". I'm not aware of Morris and Evans collaborating before, yet the interaction works well.
The trio offers four expansive, fully improvised pieces—fascinating, kaleidoscopic sonic visions. The music moves with complete openness, shifting effortlessly from subdued, muted textures to playful staccato exchanges, often in an instant. Evans’ remarkable range and timbral acrobatics are nothing short of spectacular, sparking genuine delight (at least for this listener), yet always remaining fully integrated within the group sound. Morris and Sorey inhabit this terrain with equal assurance, showcasing not only their deep listening but, above all, their creativity in shaping a coherent and intensely engaging musical experience.
The music was recorded on January 30, 2025 at The Bunker in Brooklyn
Russ Johnson, Christian Weber & Dieter Ulrich - To Walk On Eggshells (ezz-thetics, 2025)
This trio is less adventurous yet highy enjoyable. Russ Johnson is on trumpet, Christian Weber on double bass and Dieter Ulrich on drums.
The three musicians are in great shape, as are their boppish tunes and improvisations. The nine tracks are almost equally composed by each band member, showing the total lack of hierarchy in this ensemble. It is fun, upbeat, joyous, energetic and infectious, and alternated with some sad pieces, such as "For A.R" - presumably a tribute to Aderhard Roidinger, an Austrian bassist and graphic designer, and one-time teacher of Christian Weber - and the beautifully old-fashioned and bluesy "Confession".
The recording already dates from December 2009, recorded in a studio in Zürich, but it gets its release only now. Like his "Live At The Hungry Brain" released last year, yet also recorded in 2018, it takes some time before Johnson's trumpet trios get released. Let's hope we do not have to wait that long for the next one.
It's a studio album, and this is music that will only come fully to its right when listened to in a live setting. The recording quality is excellent, as is the playing.
Linda May Han Oh, Ambrose Akinmusire & Tyshawn Sorey - Strange Heavens (Biophilia Records, 2025)
One more trumpet trio album with Tyshawn Sorey on drums, but now with Linda May Han Oh on electric and acoustic bass and Ambrose Akinmusire on trumpet. The drummer and bassist have also collaborated on Vijay Iyer's "Uneasy" and "Compassion".
Akinmusire was member of the trio on Linda Oh's debut album "Entry" from 2008. Sorey and Akinmusire collaborated on John Escreet's "Consequences".
On this album they are in superb form. All the pieces are composed by Linda Oh, with the exception of "Skin" by Geri Allen and "Just Waiting" by Melba Liston.
The title refers to the saying that human beings tend to choose a familiar hell over a strange heaven. Oh explains: "We all experience how easy it is to be lulled into the comfort of something that may actually be quite negative and detrimental to our well-being. We see that often in our daily lives, but I also see it in politics and in grander aspects of humanity.”
All compositions come with a background story or specific inspiration or tribute: "“Living Proof” draws from inspirational stories of self-improvement, in particular that of her own mother. “Acapella” is a reflection on Joni Mitchell’s “The Fiddle and the Drum". “Home,” “Paperbirds,” “Folk Song” and “Working” are elements in an informal suite, inspired by images from Australian author Shaun Tan’s wordless graphic novel "The Arrival".
The music itself is first-rate, more boppish than free, yet the real delight lies in hearing three remarkable musicians giving everything they have. Akinmusire’s radiant tone and stylistic range make every trumpet line a pleasure. Oh’s bass work shines throughout—anchoring the music, steering the compositions, and delivering solos of real character. Her choice of a chordless trio opens the space beautifully, giving her instrument greater presence and allowing the narrative of her music to emerge with striking clarity. Sorey, predictably superb, continues to show why he’s in such high demand, contributing yet another stellar performance to an already prolific couple of years.
And now for something completely different. Or not. The trio of Royal Flux brings an interesting inter-stylistic or eclectic combination of improvised music with a "nu jazz" sound and funky rhythms. The trio are Sarah Kramer on trumpet, flugelhorn, effects, percussion and sounds, voice, Joe Berardi on drums, percussion, electronics and sounds, and Jorge Calderón on bass and percussion.
Kramer released her debut album, "Home", in 2013 and was mostly active as a session musician, and probably best know from the trumpet part in Leonard Cohen's "Dear Heather". The rhythm section is also relatively new to me, with little references of other output.
Listeners drawn to Nils Petter Molvær or late-period Miles Davis may take to this album. It doesn’t strive for grand artistic statements; it’s simply fun. The sound may come across as somewhat synthetic—perhaps too tidy or programmatic for this blog’s usual tastes—but its cool vibe and infectious energy make it worth your attention.
Some will say that a cornet is not a trumpet, but we do not go into too much semantics here and add this great trio too, with Kirk Knuffke on cornet, Stomu Takeishi on bass, and Bill Goodwin on drums.
As we've heard on previous work by Knuffke, he loves that jazz and musical tradition of the United States, especially the deeply emotional and rhythmic bluesy sound of the south. On the thirteen relatively short tracks - all between 3 to 5 minutes - he brings easy to memorize tunes and themes that are often infectious. Knuffke's vision is that he's "concerned with making beautiful music. Even when the music is free and avant-garde, I want it to reach into people’s hearts".
On some tracks, Knuffke sings, in a bluesy baritone voice, something he's done before on other albums, and it works well to provide some variety to the music. Variety is also brought by the three "Gong Suites", freely improvised pieces that are sprinkled among the other tracks, minimal and percussion-driven.
Bill Goodwin also recites "A Divine Image", a William Blake poem.
A Divine Image
Cruelty has a Human Heart
And Jealousy a Human Face
Terror the Human Form Divine
And Secrecy, the Human Dress
The Human Dress, is forged Iron
The Human Form, a fiery Forge.
The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd
The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.
This is music without pretence, with the only ambition to develop high quality music that listeners enjoy.
Nothing in Duisburg stays stuck in place for long. The north-west German
city, where the Rhine and Ruhr rivers converge, is home to the world’s
largest inland port. That gives it a restless and fast-flowing character
that neatly matches bassist Linda May Han Oh’s music. Her band sailed into
town on a cold night in mid-November to deliver a shipment of buoyant sonic
cargo.
Much of that buoyancy derived from three-part harmonies combining vocals
from Oh and Sara Serpa with Will Vinson’s strident alto saxophone. Their
voices resounded off the Lutherkirche’s black stone floor and floated up to
its high ceiling. Whirlwind percussion from Mark Whitfield Jr. completed the
group. Pianist Fabian Almazan was also aboard the band’s European voyage but
missed this show due to (sea)sickness. The concert was part of the
long-running
Intermezzo
series.
To cast off, the four-person crew used the rapid current of their leader’s
output to merge two tunes together. “Respite”, from the bassist’s sixth
album Glass Hours(Biopihilia Records, 2024), surged into a new
piece called “Block Party”. Oh was light-footed, dipping her bass like a
ballroom dance partner. Her dynamism imbued the written and spontaneous
material with irresistible momentum.
Just after the halftime interval, “Halo” gave the audience a chance to more
deeply immerse themselves in Serpa’s singing. The Portuguese improviser’s
expansive low notes flooded the venue and her crystalline high register
sparkled. The song is another bouncy composition that featured a boppy
saxophone solo followed by stormy sections from bass and drums.
With their piano-playing shipmate on shore leave, Vinson made two attempts
to navigate the keyboard. He even embarked on an extensive solo on “Prayer
for Freedom”, where the rhythmic focus contrasted with his more
phrase-driven saxophone explorations. Whitfield Jr. added a military
undercurrent via his snare. The effervescent drummer earned several of the
night’s loudest ovations.
Unusually, this tune used English-language lyrics instead of non-lexical
vocals. That gave it the air of a sermon preached at the church’s
congregation, while most of the concert felt more like a collective
revelation. This was an evening of venturesome music from a band that
transported listeners to warmer places than chilly Duisburg—before floating
away on the ocean of life, like a ship passing in the night.
I was at a house concert once, many years ago, where Evan Parker gave a twenty minute solo concert. I was sitting in a plush chair approximately two feet away from the saxophonist and recall being simply spellbound. The proximity to the sound was hypnotizing and the effects were long lasting - the sights and sounds come quickly back to mind whenever I encounter Parker's playing. But enough of this yammering, here is a video that popped up recently of a solo concert from a Queens' College Chapel in Cambridge, MA:
