John Abercrombie
Timeless
John Abercrombie guitar
Jan Hammer organ, synthesizer, piano
Jack DeJohnette drums
Recorded June 11 & 12, 1974, Generation Sound Studios, New York
Engineers: Tony May and Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher
Since first taking note of Jan Hammer’s music in my early teens through Beyond the Mind’s Eye, I had always associated his name with progressive digital imagery. It wasn’t until years later that I would rediscover his iconic significance as progenitor of the Miami Vice sound, to say nothing of his roots with such pioneering outfits as the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Imagine my surprise when I found his name in this ECM lineup! I single him out only for this anecdotal reason, when in fact he is one of an equally talented trio of musicians whose synergy here is a wonder to behold.
We kick things off in high gear with “Lungs,” a heaping pile of instrumental kindling set ablaze by Jan Hammer’s high-octane staccato, Jack DeJohnette’s explosive hi-hat action, and Abercrombie’s unusually frenetic fretwork. A sublime energy is maintained throughout and the payoff is supremely satisfying—all the more so for its brevity, as the music suddenly changes avenues just a few minutes in. Hammer relays effortlessly between organ and synth, keeping the pace in a funk-ridden jaunt through trailing guitar solos that send notes into the ether like cosmic fingers flicking galaxies into outer space. The organ smolders quietly in the background before clinching a new groove, which Abercrombie laces with soaring lines flanged just right for the mix. It all ends in a game of musical jump rope, with Abercrombie skipping over the alternation of drums and organ. “Love Song” is true to its name and is the first of two exquisite conversations between piano and acoustic guitar. Just as the organ was deeply rooted, sowing long rows into the soil of our attention, the piano is like a welcome rain for our crop and the guitar like the sun that nurtures and infuses it with life. Which brings us to “Ralph’s Piano Waltz,” easily my favorite of these six fine offerings. Like the album as a whole, this track is a delicate balancing act that weighs a few distinct elements on one central point. The organ runs in circles so as to remain horizontal, teetering as it is on the brink of a resolute unity. This is a perfectly constructed piece and if you don’t find your foot tapping during this one, you might want to make sure it’s still attached. Although the leads are electric, amplified through the application of current and otherwise dead, they also produce unique invigorations of that power in each its own language. The conversation continues unfettered and untranslated, though the ways in which the instruments mimic each other betray an endearing fondness for mimicry. It is an idiosyncratic approach in which each musician adds his own spin to any given motif before releasing it from possession. “Red And Orange” is what might result if Bach were alive in the seventies as a closeted jazz musician, replete with the inimitable composer’s flair for syncopation and tandem interplay. “Remembering” is an alluring chain of tableux and the second of the two duets. Abercrombie sustains details the piano seems content to ignore, pulling on those threads just a little more to tease them from their finely wrought weave. We end with the title track, which builds slowly from a synth drone peppered with light guitar musings to a full-blown embrace of spacy majesty.
This album is a true standout in the ECM catalog, with an infectious energy that lingers long after the last note. There is no sense of competition; only mutual reveling in a distinctly nuclear sound. One could easily call it fusion, but if anything it is fused with itself, for it has created every element it seeks to combine. Timeless indeed.
I sat down tonight and abitrarily grabbed this. I found a ridiculously mint German pressing somewhere, no peel on the cover, no marks, no dust, in fact it really looks like I just removed the shrink wrap. Nary a crackly or pop.
Speaking of, I’m slowly accumulating the first 200 ECM recordings in German pressings. The range from this era is so special and I think there is very little production vinyl that gets much better. While the very early ECM is an entirely different sound you can feel the focus Manfred was bringing to this era.
This is a wonderful record; I found myself starting right over at the beginning after my full listening. Not a lot of fireworks but very listenable and accessible while the diversity engages you all the way through. The diversity of the music is appealing. I appreciate the balance between the players At times Jan Hammer’s organ reminds me a bit of Keith Emerson’s – this is interesting crossover music that would appeal to many. Listening to this lovely album saddens me a bit because I wish it had had much greater exposure – I think it is very appealing.
Appealing, yes. As I always like to say, music tends to come into our lives when it is meant to, and my encounter with this album was fortuitous to the last. I’ve been gathering a small vinyl collection myself as I go through ECM’s history. I grew up at the tail end of the vinyl age (though, thankfully, some would say it never died), and miss the look and feel of the medium. I have to use the listening room at my university library to hear any vinyl these days, and the 20-minute walk always feels like a pilgrimage. That’s a great find you’ve got there in the German pressing.