John Abercrombie
November

John Abercrombie guitar
Marc Johnson bass
Peter Erskine drums
John Surman baritone and soprano saxophones, bass clarinet
Recorded November 1992 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Named for both the month its was recorded in and for the mood it maintains, November is a cogent record from guitarist John Abercrombie’s trio with bassist Marc Johnson and drummer Peter Erskine, along with special guest John Surman. The English reedman lends his fluid considerations to the album’s deepest moments, and nowhere so engagingly as in “The Cat’s Back,” thus opening a cloudy and sometimes pensive set of mostly group originals. Abercrombie’s quiet sparkle ushers in the gravid quartet sound of this improvised prelude, Surman tipping the scales with bass clarinet against the weight of Erskine and Johnson’s joyous communication. Those timeworn ululations scramble themselves in “Rise And Fall,” a veritable Rubik’s Cube of baritone utterances. The legato soprano of “Ogeda” also inspires particularly soulful picking from Abercrombie, who pulls from the gumdrop strums of “Come Rain Or Come Shine” and “Prelude” a scroll of ideas. These come to life inside rings of celestial fire, each a meteorite in freefall. Meditation throbs at the heart of “J.S.,” a lavish piece boasting starry turns all around. After this look inward, we get something more extroverted in the foot-tapping beats of “Right Brain Patrol.” Despite small beginnings, it ends up spitting pale fire as if it were breath itself into “John’s Waltz.” Over Erskine’s calm ripples, Abercrombie grabs the tail of Johnson’s solo for one of his own, deploying a parachute held by chromatic tethers. “To Be” reprises Surman’s bass clarinet, played here as if it were the last of its kind. Its voice paints the night with that gentle resignation only loneliness can bring, a heartening and mournful sound that recedes from “Big Music,” which finishes the album with ice-skating melodies and tight syncopations.

While everyone on November listens to the others with equal acuity, I find this outing all the more enjoyable for what Johnson does to its sound. After having only encountered him in denser projects like Bass Desires, it was a real pleasure to hear—in the title track, for example—the intimacy of his craft. His duet with Erskine on “Tuesday Afternoon” is a real gem in this regard and provides a guiding lens for this exquisite studio date.

John Abercrombie Trio
While We’re Young

John Abercrombie guitars
Dan Wall Hammond organ
Adam Nussbaum drums
Recorded June 1992 at Power Station, New York
Engineer: James A. Farber
Produced by Manfred Eicher

John Abercrombie fronts the first of his trio recordings with Dan Wall on Hammond organ and Adam Nussbaum on drums. This sumptuous combination of instruments, cradled in ECM’s enabling acoustics no less, is candy for the ears. Dividing the record into two halves, one finds the first bubbling with excitement. One might not know it from the all-consuming gaze of “Rain Forest,” in which Wall takes center stage. Bathed in a rough and dimly lit spotlight, he listens to his own stories as if someone else was telling them, but gives way to the swell of “Stormz.” Abercrombie takes slow but steady shape, ringing like the edge of a coin blown and held to the edge of an ear, now tumbling, now sprinting, with an eye ever-trained to some distant point that holds his attention by a thread of perspective from pick to horizon. In “Dear Rain,” Nussbaum’s drumming indeed evokes the patter of precipitation as Wall’s tender strains waft through the humid air. All of this seems but fuel to “Mirrors,” which turns up the flames on this gas stove to a deep and lively blue. Fantastic playing abounds on this one, but particularly from Nussbaum, who keeps us on our toes.

“Carol’s Carol” links a chain of memories toward the album’s darker side. Erskine’s cymbals form the peak of some mountainous drumming, sending us over into the neighboring valley of “Scomotion.” This down-tempo tribute to John Scofield tones the remainder down to a quiet smolder. Abercrombie finds sentimental breadth in “A Matter Of Time,” kindling to Wall’s probing sparks, while “Dolorosa” ends on a tearful note, made all the more so by the guitar’s lovely sound, setting us down from a beautiful and reflective effort before going on its silent way.

John Abercrombie
Getting There

John Abercrombie electric and acoustic guitars, guitar synthesizer
Marc Johnson bass
Peter Erskine drums
Michael Brecker tenor saxophone
Recorded April 1987 at Power Station, New York
Engineer: James Farber
Produced by Lee Townsend

This trio—consisting of John Abercrombie on guitars (still favoring synth treatments at this point), Marc Johnson on bass, and Peter Erskine on drums—was one to be reckoned with in the 80s. Getting There seems, like many of ECM’s dates from the decade, to have been overlooked by many, but its rewards are plentiful. All the more so for the presence of saxophonist Mike Brecker, whose buttery tenor graces a smattering of its tracks. First and foremost among these is “Sidekicks.” This fishhook of a tune reels us into the album’s sweep, sped along by Erskine’s anthemic drumming and Johnson’s springy lines before ending on a classic fadeout as Brecker careens into outer space. “Remember Hymn” is another Brecker-heavy capsule of nocturnal medicine. With wondrous lyricism, the group constantly reforms itself here in one of the frontman’s finest. Marc Johnson spikes the compositional punch with “Furs On Ice”—one of only two non-Abercrombie tunes on this set (the other being Vince Mendoza’s “Thalia,” which finds Abercrombie in a Metheny mode)—lays down a smooth groove for Hammond organ-like chording and Brecker’s smooth emotive pinwheels. Abercrombie glows in his solo, drawing his electric sound like a dull razor across the stubble of time. Speaking of which, “Upon A Time” gives us plenty, taking the trio form down memory lane as Abercrombie’s fingers squeak along the fret board like birds.

This album is also marked by thoughtful choices in distortion and amplification, as exemplified in the title track, in which Abercrombie lets fly his laser-honed melodies, burning like a welding torch in a silent film. Erskine is epic on this cut. “Chance” brings a more delicate body language to that same immortal circle, while “Labour Day” gives Johnson a turn at the helm over Erskine’s precise brushes before Abercrombie returns for his most spirited solo yet.

Abercrombie has a tendency to catapult his notes, sending listeners on clean, high lobs. These are some of his brightest, not least because of Lee Townsend’s sparkling production. And in the company of such comparably strong wings, this flock can do no wrong. This is captivating music-making that welcomes us into the joy of musicians at the peak of their expressive powers.

John Abercrombie
Current Events

John Abercrombie guitar, guitar synthesizer
Marc Johnson bass
Peter Erskine drums
Recorded September 1985 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Current Events marks an incubatory period of sorts for John Abercrombie. The evolving guitarist found willing collaborators in drummer Peter Erskine and bassist Marc Johnson, both of whom decorated his synth-heavy experiments with bold care. Erskine excels in the more upbeat numbers, bringing sparkle to “Clint” and to an all-acoustic version of “Ralph’s Piano Waltz” (see Timeless and Towner’s Solo Concert for reference). The ghostly intro of “Alice In Wonderland” wings into a free-flowing liquid of a tune that will tug at your childhood. Each touch of cymbal is a splash and the bass a slinking amphibian making its way to the present with a jewel of remembrance in its mouth. The loving acoustic solo “Lisa” segues into “Hippityville,” which somersaults along Abercrombie’s electronic ladder. “Killing Time” (exactly what this album doesn’t do) modestly titles a shimmering veil of slumber, carried into wistful awakening by declarations from the trio in full. Last is “Still,” a carpet for Johnson’s lumbering gait and the shimmering cellular network of Abercrombie’s acoustic. Sharp and gorgeous.

This is for the most part a subtle album, though it does possess its fair share of catharses, and promises new returns every time. Like the last track, it slides into your soul before you know it, making it one of Abercrombie’s most enjoyable dates.

John Abercrombie
Night

John Abercrombie guitar
Jan Hammer keyboards
Jack DeJohnette drums
Michael Brecker tenor saxophone
Recorded April 1984 at Power Station, New York
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

As its cover indicates, Night gives us a colorful, collage-like portrait of John Abercrombie, who jumps here into the urban deep end with smoky club atmospheres and tight jams. It’s a joy to see the guitarist working with Jan Hammer again, and the inclusion of Mike Brecker on tenor and Jack DeJohnette on drums make for a winning formula. Hammer adds a particular spike to this sonic punch, competently filling the session’s lack of bass while also fleshing out the production with an evocative sweep. Between the idiomatic blend of “Ethereggae” and the Timeless heat distortion of “3 East,” his billowing keys give Brecker more than enough room to show off his chops (he has hardly sounded better). This date isn’t all fun and games, however, for the rain-slicked streets of “Look Around” give us pause for reflection. Hammer reignites things in “Believe You Me,” which despite being the most straightforward track compositionally sports Brecker’s most uninhibited solo yet. The band saves the best for last with “Four On One,” which draws another ring of fire in an enthralling closer. DeJohnette gets his moment in the sun here as well.

Though something of an blip in the Abercrombie back catalogue, Night is far from benign. Aside from the effusive music, what really distinguishes this album is its sound. Another slam-dunk for engineer Jan Erik Kongshaug.