ECM Releases

Keith Jarrett: Spirits (ECM 1333/34)

| Tyran Grillo

Keith Jarrett
Spirits

Keith Jarrett piano, flutes, soprano saxophone, guitar, percussion
Recorded May through July 1985 at Cavelight Studios, New Jersey
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Keith Jarrett and Manfred Eicher

Spirits is more than a jewel in the rough. It is the rough of a jewel. By this, I mean to say that through its hard-won journey Keith Jarrett has peered into the heart of darkness that is life and compressed it into a diamond so honest that no amount of polishing will wear away its blemishes. Recorded at his home studio, then post-processed by ECM engineer Martin Wieland, this is a most personal album of boundless expression. Then again, so is every Jarrett album. The difference is in the instrumentation: an unusual array of flutes, keys, and percussion, overdubbed in various combinations and densities (Jarrett even picks up a guitar, which he treats more like a sitar). Jarrett also sings, wails as if in and of the earth, finding in Nature a single feather plucked from nowhere. Bird-less, it has no recourse to flight, and can only call to a sky it will never know.

Though splashed over two discs in 26 parts, this heartrending session takes breath into the same pair of lungs throughout. Moods range from jubilation to a burrowing pensiveness, but always with an ear attuned to catharsis. The nearly two-hour purge turns repression into a path, beginning deep in the heart of ritual, where drums and flutes tread in place of feet and throats, and ending in the recesses of a Renaissance dream, where shepherds, troubadours, and shamans share their slumber. Jarrett’s occasional chants flirt with the exigencies of articulation, all the while forming steady yet somehow ungraspable touchstones along the way. The expected pianism is kept to a graceful minimum, giving way instead to wondrous ruminations on soprano saxophone and other suspended airs.

In so many other hands, such an album would come across as a trite exercise in tribalism, but in Jarrett’s it emotes with full transparency. By far his most colorful release, it marks a shift in method. Where before he charted every possible recess of the structure at hand, here he allows that structure to build itself around him in a shelter of the psyche. The result is a freestanding insight into the pathos of creation. Probably not the one you’ll want to start with, but by no means a prism to bar from the light of your curiosity.

<< Paul Hindemith: Viola Sonatas (ECM 1330-32 NS)
>> Steve Tibbetts: Exploded View (ECM 1335)

Gary Burton Quintet: Whiz Kids (ECM 1329)

| Tyran Grillo

 

Gary Burton Quintet
Whiz Kids

Gary Burton vibraphone, marimba
Makoto Ozone piano
Tommy Smith saxophone
Steve Swallow bass
Martin Richards drums
Recorded June 1986, Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

This aptly titled date from the Gary Burton Quintet showcases two wunderkinds: saxophonist Tommy Smith and pianist Makoto Ozone. It was Chick Corea who recommended the up-and-coming Smith, just 18 at the time, as a Burton sideman. One year later, Smith was thrust into the ECM spotlight, bringing his robust tenor voicing to one of the finest outfits in the business. And speaking of Corea, one would be hard-pressed to find a more kindred spirit than Ozone, who at 25 was already a longtime phenom in his native Japan, and whose tutelage at Berklee led him to work with Burton.

These talents are showcased not only technically, but also compositionally. Smith leads the way with “The Last Clown.” This warm, nocturnal cityscape is the perfect appetizer for what’s in store. The space afforded to every musician is a testament to the group’s democratic flair. Those unmistakable vibes glisten like rain-slicked streets, Burton taking his sweet time to let every note sing, while Ozone deepens the proceedings with every key he touches. Yet the pianist shines brightest in his own two upbeat contributions. Of these, “La Divetta” shows the group at its finest and is honed to a formidable edge by Smith’s aerial attack and the breakneck pacing of drummer Martin Richards. The balance of Ozone’s “Yellow Fever” is invigorating to say the least. Burton shows off his mindboggling precision, as do Smith and Ozone, one cream to the other’s coffee. Both of these pay homage to Corea, whose tune “The Loop” caps off a diamond-solid set. A couple of rarities complete the picture. “Soulful Bill” is a lovely ballad that features an even lovelier bass line from Steve Swallow, who dances with his own quiet magic through a gallery of fine solos. And the mid-tempo “Cool Train” brings on the love tenfold, especially in its sweeping pianism, which here recalls Bruce Hornsby.

The themes on Whiz Kids are ripe, the playing even more so, and the recording pristine. This is a quintessential example of ECM’s tender side, perfect for those lazy afternoons during which dreaming is the best kind of travel. Sadly, this smooth-as-silk recording would mark the end of Burton’s 14-year run on ECM. All the more appropriate, then, that his selfless respect for new generations of talent should take center stage.

<< Jon Hassell: Power Spot (ECM 1327)
>> Paul Hindemith: Viola Sonatas (ECM 1330-32 NS)

Enrico Rava/Dino Saluzzi Quintet: Volver

| Tyran Grillo

 

Enrico Rava
Dino Saluzzi
Volver

Enrico Rava trumpet
Dino Saluzzi bandoneón
Harry Pepl guitar
Furio Di Castri bass
Bruce Ditmas drums
Recorded October 1986 at Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Before the title of Volver (Spanish: to return; to come back) graced Pedro Almodóvar’s colorful 2006 film, it found a home two decades previously on the cover of this most intriguing date from bandoneón master Dino Saluzzi, who joins the roving Enrico Rava Quartet. Harry Pepl starts things off right with a plaintive guitar in “Le But Du Souffle,” providing a yielding surface for Saluzzi to carve his ethereal shapes. Add to this the earthbound bass of Furio Di Castri and Rava’s heavenly blowing, and you get a formula for pure sonic bliss. This typically rubato ECM intro smoothes into the jaunty territories of “Minguito,” which form a unique sound brought to fervent life by Bruce Ditmas at the kit. After a killer thesis statement, Rava draws from a single note an ever-flitting butterfly of a solo. Pepl follows in his wake with effervescence, plowing that same field of perpetual energy before Saluzzi arcs forward with the album’s most resplendent solo. The rhythm section builds to fervor underneath him, as if pointing fingers skyward in want of flight. “Luna-Volver” is a lilting piece for bandoneón alone, which in this resonant space develops like a sepia-tinted photograph, a tender prelude to the ecstatic expression of audible love in “Tiempos De Ausencias.” A slab of free jazz awaits us in “Ballantine For Valentine,” which from a wrenching Bill Frisell-like guitar throws delicious textures to the wind before the dark spiral of “Visions” catches the light of finality as if on a glassine edge.

The band gives plenty of space to contemplate each section, taking long, deep breaths between solos. Like a tree, the results maintain rootedness, no matter how high they climb. Rava is the sap through its veins, Saluzzi the sunlight in the branches. The two make for quite a pair, and it’s a shame they never conversed more often. My only caveat is the mid-heavy production. While normally I like being drowned in reverb, in this case it’s just a bit too plush for its own good. It obscures some of the finer gradations of the musicianship and forces a final fadeout into premature silence.

<< Christy Doran: Red Twist & Tuned Arrow (ECM 1342)
>> Keith Jarrett: Book Of Ways (ECM 1344/45)

Steve Tibbetts: Yr (ECM 1355)

| Tyran Grillo

 

 

Steve Tibbetts
Yr

Steve Tibbetts guitars, kalimba, synthesizer
Marc Anderson congas, drums, percussion
Bob Hughes bass
Steve Cochrane tabla
Marcus Wise tabla
Tim Weinhold bongos, vase, bells
Recorded ca. 1980 at Atma-Sphere and Oxit Roxon, St. Paul
Engineer: Steve Tibbetts
Produced by Steve Tibbetts

Yr is yet another fascinating peek into the Steve Tibbetts sound-verse. The feeling of open plains that so characterized his previous efforts remains, only now the production is more immediate, such that the 12-string intimations unlocking the doors of “Ur” set us adrift in our own mysteries. Percussionist Marc Anderson soars, seeming to grow out of Tibbetts’s hollow-bodied heart before the heavy thrum of the latter’s electric curls itself into a ball and rolls down a hill of unrelenting melody. After an explosion of beats and guitars settles us into the soothing reverie of “Sphexes,” we find our expectations blotted by an interlude of kalimbas before Tibbetts spreads his buttery axe over this acoustic toast with sweetness in “Ten Years.” Fantastic. “One Day,” much like the opener, rises from the ashes of a campfire, but not without leaving an aftertaste of the prairie. “Three Primates” is a pocket of sunshine that shifts masterfully between tones and timbres. Now darkened by shadow, now blinded by noon, it dives headfirst to a tabla-infused conclusion. “You And It” is another shimmering slice of life. Backed by strings and icy sleigh bells, it breathes life into a new day. This opens the doors even wider, letting in the dawn’s early electric and unleashing a torrent of dreams made real. “The Alien Lounge” traipses through tall grasses, weaving past abandoned foxholes and memories of warm nights toward the starlight of “Ten Yr Dance,” spun like a home movie rewound to one’s first days on earth.

This is by far Tibbetts’s most uplifting date and one sure to win you over with its no-frills charm, emoting as it does with an artistry at which we can only shake our heads in wonder. It also shows just how deftly and appropriately he takes advantage of the studio, flipping prerecorded bits on end and adding just the right touch of electronics for depth. The spaces therein are constantly morphing, content to move on once they have achieved a certain kind of beauty while always looking forward to the next.

Timeless, as all Tibbetts releases are.

<< Oregon: Ecotopia (ECM 1354)
>> Pepl/Joos/Christensen: Cracked Mirrors (ECM 1356)

Mark Isham/Art Lande: We Begin (ECM 1338)

| Tyran Grillo

Mark Isham
Art Lande
We Begin

Mark Isham fluegelhorn, trumpets, synthesizer, percussion
Art Lande piano, synthesizer, percussion
Recorded January 1987 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

“All art is at once surface and symbol.”
–Oscar Wilde

This brooding session from Rubisa Patrol alumni Mark Isham and Art Lande is an odd one. Odd, because with the immensity of acoustic talents to be found in both musicians, the results tend toward a saccharine blend of electronics that detracts from the heavenly beauties being painted before them. Take, for instance, Isham’s swaths of trumpeted gorgeousness in “The Melancholy Of Departure,” which are at pains to harmonize with the drum machine that is the piece’s frail backbone. Neither does Lande have reason to augment his resonant pianism with the synthetic gamelan that deadens “Ceremony In Starlight” when he might have further explored the inside of the piano for similar effect. And are not Isham’s muted calls here far more cosmic than a few patching of wire ever could be? The same goes for the title piece and for the closing “Fanfare,” in which Isham might easily have multi-tracked himself (as he does later on) in lieu of the thin choir that we get.

Lande’s piano becomes more prominent as the album progresses, most effectively so in his tender solo piece, “Sweet Circle.” All the more ironic, then, that the live feel of “Lord Ananea” never quite gets off the ground. “Surface And Symbol,” on the other hand, is as transcendent as transcendent gets. One only wishes this veritable flower of layered horns, echoing like voices of ages past, and veiled pianism were more representative of the whole.

In spite of this album’s shortcomings, the melodic pictures it paints are so downright beautiful that one can forgive its cheap gilded frame. And far be it from me to criticize what was then an exciting new tool of the moment. Neither a must-have nor one to ignore. I’ll leave it for you to decide where it falls.

<< Norma Winstone: Somewhere Called Home (ECM 1337)
>> Edward Vesala: Lumi (ECM 1339)

Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy: Avant Pop (ECM 1326)

| Tyran Grillo

Lester Bowie´s Brass Fantasy
Avant Pop

Lester Bowie trumpet
Stanton Davis trumpet
Malachi Thompson trumpet
Rasul Siddik trumpet
Steve Turre trombone
Frank Lacy trombone
Vincent Chancey French horn
Bob Stewart tuba
Phillip Wilson drums
Recorded March 1986, Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Lester Bowie’s Brass Fantasy is all about joy. The joy of making music, the joy of turning the popular inside out, revealing the beating heart of that which makes sound accessible. In this respect, the title of Avant Pop might as well mark the genre that this most talented trumpeter forged. And the sound? Aromatic, clean as a whistle, and affirmative. What with the heaping portions of brass sandwiched between Bob Stewart’s gorgeous tuba bass lines and Phillip Wilson’s otherworldly percussive colors, something’s bound to move you, sparking a dormant memory into animation.

Bowie pulls out all the stops on this album, blatting with ease through the opening waves of “The Emperor” and on into a lyrical rendition of “Saving All My Love For You.” The latter’s big band sound hits you right in the gut of your denial. Like a swing you never want to jump out of, it builds to a swooning climax. The vocal colors of “B Funk” add another spice to the stew and leave us spinning on “Blueberry Hill.” Stewart digs deep here and follows Bowie wherever he leads. Things get a little swanky in “Crazy,” while homage is the name of the game in “Macho (Dedicated To Machito),” which spins from a prayerful bell an infectious montuno vamp that would have made the Afro-Cuban jazz master proud. This is followed by “No Shit,” which besides having the honor of boasting the only curse word in the ECM lexicon (?) also gives us the album’s catchiest motif—a cross between “Pride and Joy” and a distorted C jam blues. “Oh What A Night” provides an irresistible and punchy conclusion.

Never has Bowie sounded so tonally corpulent, a feat only underlined by the superb engineering. And while he may blow shooting stars across a universe of familiar tunes, in this context we cannot help but hear them anew. The album is indeed a fantasy, not only in its backward glance but also in its very revival of popular song, which speaks to the sometimes-magical escapism of the form. Rather than enhance it, Bowie seems intent on bringing it down to earth in a crash landing of goodness. The breadth of idioms represented on Avant Pop is inspiring and barely scratches the surface of his legacy of wit and good cheer.

As epic as it is intimate, this is a sonic child that could only have been nurtured by a mind like his.

<< Arvo Pärt: Arbos (ECM 1325 NS)
>> Jon Hassell: Power Spot (ECM 1327)

Jan Garbarek: All Those Born With Wings (ECM 1324)

| Tyran Grillo

Jan Garbarek
All Those Born With Wings

Jan Garbarek solo
Recorded August 1986 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

As one of ECM’s most passionate and prolific contributors, Jan Garbarek has left us with a varicolored, sometimes watery, archive. For All Those Born With Wings, the Norwegian saxophonist went solo, painting an evocative album of relic-laden vistas. The result is a six-part session filled with a variety of instruments and tastes. The hammered dulcimer is a welcome sound to the Garbarek palette, and is used tastefully in the 1st Part, where Garbarek’s saxophone refracts into a flock of large-winged birds. An army of chants floods the 2nd Part, as martial drums resound like the introductory sequence of a classic martial arts film.

While such dramatic flourishes make for a powerful start, the album’s hold begins to wane in the 3rd part, which comes across as tentative and in need of deeper thought. By the same token, such moments reveal an endearing vulnerability, one of which I like to think Garbarek was conscious when drawing this album from his psyche. Another drawback, though likely not at the time of recording, are the electronics, which don’t hold up as well as the melodies they articulate. Note, for example, the visceral edge Garbarek gets using only piano and saxophone in the 4th Part. This combination is so effective (cf. Stella Malu), one wishes it comprised the entire album. Its permeable lullaby haunts, as do the strains of the next part. This time, Garbarek pairs himself with a shoddy synthesized guitar, which makes me wonder why an acoustic couldn’t have been brought in. The subtle live percussion, however, adds flavor and sparkle to both of these pieces. I also find the multi-tracking to be an unnecessary diversion. Garbarek’s tone is already so full that additional voices seem superfluous. The final part brings together the album’s quiet logic at last and breeds its greatest clarity for the lack of contrivance.

There is something delicate, almost childlike, in these pockets of stars that makes them worth exploring. Still, those new to Garbarek may want to look elsewhere in his evening sky before connecting the dots of this particular constellation.

<< Gavin Bryars: Three Viennese Dancers (ECM 1323 NS)
>> Arvo Pärt: Arbos (ECM 1325 NS)

David Torn: cloud about mercury (ECM 1322)

| Tyran Grillo

David Torn
cloud about mercury

David Torn guitars
Mark Isham trumpets, synthesizer
Tony Levin bass
Bill Bruford drums, percussion
Recorded March 1986 at Audio International, London
Engineer: Andy Jackson
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Guitarist David Torn defines jazz fusion, proving that the genre is more than add and stir. With cloud about mercury he made his most personal statement to date. The album sounds like many things: a sweep of Steve Tibbetts dimensions, a Jon Hassell think piece, a tree with many cultural branches, a spider’s web in sound. Torn roams freely throughout these territories, shouldering a vast load of thematic material. The opening wash of heaven that is “Suyafhu Skin…Snapping The Hollow Reed” condenses much of that material, letting fall a quiet storm of continental activity. Detuned guitars and a bubbling synthesizer part the way for Tony Levin’s grounded bass lines and trumpeter Mark Isham’s sustained flights, while drummer Bill Bruford chases after, somehow keeping pace. Next is “The Mercury Grid,” another engaging rhythm piece that boasts Isham in a Molværian mode. Torn flexes acrobatically here, swinging from every branch of this sonic corridor. The curiously titled “3 Minutes Of Pure Entertainment” is a mid-tempo groove that again features soaring guitar. Torn’s fractal precision speckles “Previous Man,” which begins with two guitars before engaging drums and synth bass in staggered syncopations. The likeminded “Network Of Sparks: The Delicate Code” sets off an intriguing chain of electric events, all the more enigmatic for their brevity. Which brings us to “Network Of Sparks: Egg Learns To Walk…Suyafhu Seal,” a warm, gelatinous mosaic that slices the night into ribbons like light through a window blind, rendering empty space into a virtual stairway by curls of cigarette smoke.

cloud about mercury represents a pinnacle of Torn’s craft and is must-have for the adventurous.

<< John Abercrombie: Getting There (ECM 1321)
>> Gavin Bryars: Three Viennese Dancers (ECM 1323 NS)

John Abercrombie: Getting There (ECM 1321)

| Tyran Grillo

 

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.

<< Paul Bley: Fragments (ECM 1320)
>> David Torn: cloud about mercury (ECM 1322)