Gary Burton: Times Square (ECM 1111)

ECM 1111

Gary Burton
Times Square

Gary Burton vibes
Steve Swallow bass guitar
Roy Haynes drums
Tiger Okoshi trumpet
Recorded January 1978 at Generation Sound Studio, New York
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Of vibraphonist Gary Burton’s roving quartets of the seventies, the assembly on Times Square is unique for the presence of Tiger Okoshi. The Japanese trumpeter’s collaborations with Burton caught the attention of many an ear and launched a fruitful career that has led to his current associate professorship at Berklee School of Music. Comfortable in both standard and fused territories, Okoshi brings a tenderness that is as biting as the leader’s vibes are liquid.

The band jumps right into the thick of things with a pair of Keith Jarrett tunes. Between the machine-gunned snare of “Semblance” and the balladic “Coral” we can already see the range of Okoshi’s flexibility. Not to be overlooked, however, is the straight-from-the-heart lyricism Burton unravels and reties in “Careful” (Jim Hall). This moves along swimmingly from the start and holds its shape through the itinerant bass of Steve Swallow, who provides five thoughtful originals for the album’s remainder. Okoshi shines again in “Peau Douce,” as does drummer Roy Haynes. Yet in this group overrun with talent from all sides, it’s Swallow who burns the midnight oil. Take, for instance, his lithe solo in “Radio” or the tightly wound core of “Como En Vietnam,” both not to be missed. And speaking of midnight, the selfsame track proves to be as sweet a palate cleanser as one could hope for. “True Or False” is also sure to bring a smile with Haynes’s whimsical solo couched between two fleeting punctuations.

Whenever Burton is involved in any musical project, one can rest assured that the melodies will be there for you, lurking in every patch of light and shadow alike. The gentle persuasions of he and his band mates preserve a nostalgic snapshot of the album’s namesake, where the onetime flowing bustle has since been clouded with noise and unrelenting visual overload. This dose of sonic clarity is all we need to make sense of the confusion.

<< Terje Rypdal: Waves (ECM 1110)
>> Keith Jarrett: Ritual (ECM 1112)

Terje Rypdal: Waves (ECM 1110)

Terje Rypdal
Waves

Terje Rypdal electric guitar, keyboard, synthesizer
Palle Mikkelborg trumpet, fluegelhorn, RMI, tac piano, ring modulator
Sveinung Hovensjø basses
Jon Christensen drums, percussion
Recorded September 1977 at Talent Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

One is often tempted to appreciate Terje Rypdal through the lens of some icy Nordic mystique that, while certainly supported by the sleeves that adorn his music, may ultimately be a myth. Either way, there is something to be said for the biting winds that blow through his sonic landscapes. I would like to present Waves, however, as a corrective to this assumption, for it emanates nothing but heat. Much of that heat comes courtesy of trumpeter Palle Mikkelborg, whose legendary reputation bears auditory bounty throughout.

Much of the album’s blurry spirit takes bodily form in “Per Ulv.” Combining a delightfully dated drum machine and quasi-Afrobeat percussion from Jon Christensen with the mellifluous bass of Sveinung Hovensjø, it opens itself to Rypdal’s searing flights. Mikkelborg’s quick fingers fuel the fire, which calms to a smolder in “Karusell,” where he marks his territory with breath rather than exaltation, trading off guttural statements with Rypdal’s softened twang. Mikkelborg even contributes a composition of his own in “Stenskoven,” a raunchy carnivalesque that might as well have switched titles with its predecessor. The title piece depends from lines of cymbals and snare and is supported by organ. Over this synthesized bliss, Rypdal and his cohorts weave a loose and lyrical song. “The Dain Curse” takes a tripartite structure. A clean bass line and flanged chording from guitar waft around the muted horn of a distant horizon, only to be cracked by Christensen like an egg of rock that oozes yolky guitar solos before being poached into stillness. “Charisma” reprises the organic river of “Waves,” into which Rypdal trails his fingers, leaving ephemeral shapes on the water’s surface. Cymbals drop like seeds, only to be washed away in the current, their potential life leaving like ghosts via the haunted trumpet.

If we imagine the cover photograph as having any bearing on what lies within, then the music is neither the trees nor the mist that envelops them. Rather, it is the sun that blinds us to both throughout the album’s gradual evaporation.

<< Dave Holland: Emerald Tears (ECM 1109)
>> Gary Burton: Times Square (ECM 1111)

Gateway 2 (ECM 1105)

ECM 1105

Gateway 2

John Abercrombie guitar, electric mandolin
Dave Holland bass
Jack DeJohnette drums, piano
Recorded July 1977 at Talent Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

In this era of tawdry sequels, it’s almost difficult to believe that John Abercrombie, Dave Holland, and Jack DeJohnette could have surpassed the profundity of 1975’s seminal Gateway. I say “almost” only because each member of this dream trio has yet to let this committed listener down and always comes to the studio bearing a basket overflowing with fresh ideas. Not only do the results of this 1978 follow-up not disappoint, they ascend into their own category.

At first we aren’t sure what to think in the carefully executed half-sleep of the 16-minute “Opening.” Amid tinkling icicles Abercrombie’s guitar wavers above the bass as it gradually forms intelligible words out of the scattered letters with which we are confronted. The process is so intensely organic that we find ourselves being lulled into its speech-like rhythms. As the snare becomes more forthcoming with its intentions, Holland fleshes out its implications with a tantalizing loop, through which Abercrombie hooks his song with a sound that is wiry yet ethereal. Just as engaging in his supportive statements, he provides ornamentation for Holland as DeJohnette rides with fierce precision into a fine solo of his own. The steam of malleted cymbals condenses into the following “Reminiscence.” Holland and Abercrombie blend into a larger instrument in this pensive track that sounds like the acoustic shadow of Pat Metheny’s “Midwestern Night Dream” (see Bright Size Life). “Sing Song” is another dose of milk-and-honey goodness. Wonderfully nuanced drumming here from DeJohnette uplifts even as it placates. Meanwhile, Abercrombie leans back into an ergonomic continuity that soon plateaus into an engaging turn from Holland, whose quintessential bass line in “Nexus” opens the band to a limber display of virtuosity. Abercrombie is again transcendent in this tower of syncopation, from which trails the Rapunzel-like strands of a limitless creative cache. DeJohnette’s piano turns “Blue” into an ending that is as bitter as it is sweet.

For those who haven’t heard this unit’s first album, I recommend doing so before settling into this one. Not because either is “better” than the other, but only because the development between the two is more readily appreciated when experienced chronologically. In any case, Gateway 2 is its own animal that thrives best in the habitat of our appreciation.

<< Richard Beirach: Hubris (ECM 1104)
>> Art Lande and Rubisa Patrol: Desert Marauders (ECM 1106)

Richard Beirach: Hubris (ECM 1104)

ECM 1104

Richard Beirach
Hubris

Richard Beirach piano
Recorded June 1977 at Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Classically trained pianist Richie Beirach has created some of ECM’s most melodically engaging music. His first solo album is a keepsake to be treasured for its melodic detail and structure. “Sunday Song” embraces the album at either end with heartache and never lets go, even in silence. Within its fibrous interior, Beirach spins thematic funnels from vivid ostinatos. Floating in its liquid center is the title piece, which if anything is circumscribed and modest. No single mood dominates, thereby allowing the listener the benefit of continual reassessment. One feels the music developing in multiple and simultaneous directions, such that a destination cannot always be inferred. Between the speculative considerations of “Osiris” and “Future Memory” and the narrow syncopations of “Leaving,” one finds a range of brushstrokes at the musician’s employ. The aerial dissonances of the latter piece leave particularly indelible impressions upon the mind’s palimpsest. “Koan” is a colorful and erratic interlude and stands equidistant from the likeminded “Rectilinear.” Beirach scales his greatest heights in “The Pearl,” which he buffs to a blinding shine with arresting key changes, only to be refracted in a haunting traipse through the “Invisible Corridor.”

With no one to answer to here, Beirach’s notecraft is pared down to the core and given free reign. These vignettes are atmosphere itself, bound to their titular prompts while also shedding them in favor of absolute expression.

<< Jack DeJohnette’s Directions: New Rags (ECM 1103)
>> Abercrombie/Holland/DeJohnnette: Gateway 2 (ECM 1105)

Jack DeJohnette: New Rags (ECM 1103)

ECM 1103

Jack DeJohnette
New Rags

Jack DeJohnette drums, piano
John Abercrombie electric guitar, electric mandolin
Alex Foster tenor and soprano saxophones
Mike Richmond bass, electric bass
Recorded May 1977 at Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Directions was a short-lived unit from the evolving mind of drummer Jack DeJohnette, who on this ECM joint proved once again that his deftness at the keyboard is almost on par with his mainstay. New Rags features the same line-up (John Abercrombie on electric guitar and mandolin, Alex Foster on reeds, and Mike Richmond on basses) as 1976’s Untitled, sans Bernhardt. Our frontman meanders into the thick of things with three originals, of which the title track bristles with luscious work from Richmond in a steady interplay with all. The consistent improv comes to a head at the halfway point, where Foster pulls his fingers as if in a vast string game by way of transition. We lapse into a brief, somnambulant carnivalesque before merging back on track as Abercrombie leads the charge, loosing a thematic call to arms that concludes in delight. An energetic groove awaits us in “Minya’s The Mooch,” in which sax and guitar are more than happy to hop onto the rhythmic bandwagon. Energies subside as quickly as they flare, leaving Abercrombie to hang in space like the brightest star on a cloudy night. Meanwhile, the elegant sax trio of “Lydia” is a short but sweet diamond in the rough that is sure to win your heart.

Foster counters with two sucker punches of his own. “Flys” is an upbeat number with attentive chording from Abercrombie. The final “Steppin’ Thru,” however, outshines the others combined in a 10.5-minute exposition with the raw intensity of an Everyman Band. Abercrombie wrenches out the album’s best solo here, more than willing to take us along for the ride. The energy accumulates with a funky electric bass before fading out, having no other recourse to finish.

While perhaps not as melodically solid as its previous effort, New Rags lives up to the group’s name. With purposive commitment and forward-looking arrangements, DeJohnette serves up another piping hot dish of auditory comfort food.

<< Kenny Wheeler: Deer Wan (ECM 1102)
>> Richard Beirach: Hubris (ECM 1104)

Kenny Wheeler: Deer Wan (ECM 1102)

ECM 1102

Kenny Wheeler
Deer Wan

Kenny Wheeler trumpet, fluegelhorn
Jan Garbarek saxophones
John Abercrombie electric guitar, electric mandolin
Dave Holland bass
Jack DeJohnette drums
Ralph Towner 12-string guitar
Recorded July 1977 at Talent Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Among Kenny Wheeler’s cleverly punned titles, Deer Wan takes the cake. For his second ECM album as headliner, the prodigious trumpeter/fluegelhornist serves up a set of four originals—three long and one short—sure to enliven any morning routine or Sunday afternoon alike. The top-shelf cast reads like a who’s who of ECM’s best and brightest: Jan Garbarek on saxophones, John Abercrombie on electrics, Dave Holland on bass, Ralph Towner on his ever-present 12-string, and Jack DeJohnette at the drums. Wrap this in the splendid engineering of Jan Erik Kongshaug and you get unquestionable sonic bliss.

The 16.5-minute “Peace For Five” is an album in itself and provides an ideal launching pad for Wheeler’s astonishing lyricism. A somber aside from Holland and not-so-somber acrobatics from Abercrombie and Garbarek all contribute to a richly flowing tapestry in this epic opener. Wheeler and company tear a page from the book of Enrico Rava with “3/4 In The Afternoon.” Like a stroll through lush gardens, one finds in it a veritable ecosystem of visual and melodic ideas, compressed into a single brass-gilded flower. Towner’s reverberant plush underscores the warmth within. As we swing over into night with “Sumother Song,” Garbarek’s liquid tenor evaporates into its own swan song with only a tinkling of cymbals to mark where it once stood. But this, we soon discover, is only a pause before DeJohnette’s beautifully corrugated rhythms unfold beneath a soaring fluegelhorn. After a windy introduction, the title track quickly weaves itself into an upbeat welcome mat on which we wipe our feet as if after a long journey. Buffeted soloing all around brings us full circle to a state of renewed appreciation for that which we’ve always known.

Deer Wan is an unsung masterpiece of smooth jazz with just enough sharp edges to leave an unforgettable scar or two. A most endearing album for those who like a shot of whiskey in their musical coffee.

<< Gary Peacock: Tales Of Another (ECM 1101)
>> Jack DeJohnette’s Directions: New Rags (ECM 1103)

Gary Peacock: Tales Of Another (ECM 1101)

ECM 1101

Gary Peacock
Tales Of Another

Gary Peacock bass
Keith Jarrett piano
Jack DeJohnette drums
Recorded February 1977, Generation Sound Studios, New York
Engineer: Tony May
Produced by Manfred Eicher

The grouping on this album represents a milestone in ECM outfits, persevering to the present day as it has in the form of Keith Jarrett’s mighty standards trio. Though a far cry from the ecstatic overloads honed over years of synergy and touring, there is an almost naïve charm to this effort and the evenhanded musicianship that sustains it. Each of these six “tales” begins in loveliness. Piano and bass bring the most urgency to bear, as in the gorgeous “Vignette,” in which Peacock gets his first lilting solo, and its follow-up, “Tone Field.” Both start off slow and sure, with DeJohnette giving the barest hint of traction and Jarrett biting deeply into fractured themes. “Major Major” gives us the steady beat we crave beneath majestic chording from the piano man, who offers up a prime slab of linear sirloin. Yet the album’s juiciest sediments can be found in the massive “Trilogy” that makes up its second half. DeJohnette skirts the rims with requisite flair while Peacock slathers on a bright veneer. Jarrett grunts ecstatically with every new development, shooting fire from his fingers. Such is the energy one has come to expect from this nonpareil threesome. Jarrett cuts off our air supply before the final stretch, the hair-trigger precision and on-your-toes syncopations of which make this pensive journey more than worth taking.

Peacock’s moody compositions make for a strikingly different experience. His fingers pull with accomplished ease at the strings of his bass. DeJohnette sticks to the margins, but fills them like no one else can. Jarrett, it might be noted, is more vocal here than I’ve ever heard him. For many, this seems to be the album’s only downfall. As far as this listener is concerned, his woops, grunts, and squeals merely underscore a musician who is unafraid to let his heart sing.

<< Keith Jarrett: Sun Bear Concerts (ECM 1100)
>> Kenny Wheeler: Deer Wan (ECM 1102)

Tom van der Geld: Path (ECM 1134)

ECM 1134

Tom van der Geld
Path

Tom van der Geld vibraharp
Bill Connors guitars
Roger Jannotta flute, soprano saxophone, oboe
Recorded February 1979 at Tonstudio Bauer, Ludwigsburg
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Path brings together guitarist Bill Connors (fresh off a stint with the Jan Garbarek Group on Photo With…), Carla Bley Big Band regular Roger Jannotta on winds, and vibraphonist Tom van der Geld for a network of pellucid improvisations entwining the barest of compositional skeletons. Connors’s twangy steel drops us immediately into an ethereal sound-world with “One,” mediating a pleasant conversation between flute and vibraphone. Thus begins a kaleidoscope of duets, trios, and quartets (the latter courtesy of some non-intrusive overdubbing). Mallets provide a resonant trunk in “Eevee,” from which branches Connors’s crisp foliage, all of it animated by the breath of a majestic flute. This blends smoothly into the pastels of “Joujou,” where familial nostalgia abounds. The title of “Michi” is Japanese for “path,” which makes it the title track by way of translation. Jannotta switches to soprano sax in this new enigmatic territory, landmarked by gossamer flags and empty way stations, before fluting a veil of Aeolian sounds over our ears. “Joys And Sorrows” works stretches our heartstrings and plucks each with the gentility of a raindrop on a spider’s web. Two ghostly guitars shine inside its nocturnal halo of vibes, bisected by soprano with a comet’s grace.

Like a meteor shower, one spends a long time waiting for excitement in Path, only to realize that the pregnant darkness to which one has held such rapt attention harbors far greater wonderment. As one of ECM’s most transparent statements, this positively exquisite album is an easy candidate for president of the label’s Bizarrely Out of Print Club. Find it any way you can and be moved, as you will.

<< John Abercrombie Quartet: Arcade (ECM 1133)
>> Jan Garbarek Group: Photo With… (ECM 1135)

John Abercrombie: Characters (ECM 1117)

ECM 1117

John Abercrombie
Characters

John Abercrombie guitars, electric mandolin
Recorded November 1977 at Talent Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Just four months after the historic Gateway 2 session, John Abercrombie stepped into Oslo’s Talent Studio to record Characters, his first and only solo album for ECM. While the guitarist’s trademark electric lurks here and there, a modified mandolin takes the strongest lead. The album also features about as much acoustic as one is likely to hear from Abercrombie in one sitting. All of this makes for sonic perfection.

At nearly 11 minutes, “Parable” is the longest cut on the album. A plaintive mandolin seems to stretch its strings as Abercrombie adds almost sitar-like cadences until, about halfway through, we realize this is but the stem of an overarching flower, which reveals its full bloom in an acoustic umbrella. With peerless thematic acuity, Abercrombie reconfigures his melodic matrix in “Memoir,” a nostalgic acoustic duet, each channel part of a spontaneous conversation. It is the most fleeting track on the album, but also the most intuitive. Next, Abercrombie transmits a “Telegram” straight into our souls. Like the message of its title, it is formless during transmission, but arrives in tangible form through the advent of technology, of which performance is Abercrombie’s medium of choice. His involuntary humming harmonizes with itself in a subconscious overdubbed chamber choir. “Backward Glance” recalls the title of Steve Kuhn’s classic tune. Dense acoustic chording spins powerful thermals upon which Abercrombie spreads his electric wings, drawing a feathered curtain over our eyes in the final strum. The spindly diversions of “Ghost Dance” percolate like anesthesia through the bloodstream before “Paramour” makes its debut as another acoustic duet (Abercrombie would soon resurrect it at the heart of his first quartet album, Arcade). More of the same awaits us in “After Thoughts,” where every pause feels like a deep breath that is at last exhaled in a luxurious chord. Lastly, through the liquid sheen of “Evensong” we catch visions of ourselves at different ages. After a silence, an acoustic hand opens its fingers wide as one electric swells in accompaniment and the other glides like a stingray for a sublime finish.

The album’s title is a prescient one. In addition to glyphs on a writing surface, “characters” are people, animals, or any other living creature whose desires animate a story. They might also be the traits of those creatures, or even the morals that define their personalities. Here, we encounter all of these and more, threaded ever so genuinely by one musician’s unique sense of space-time. For anyone wishing to peer into the soul behind the sound, let this be your window.

<< Egberto Gismonti: Sol Do Meio Dia (ECM 1116)
>> Jan Garbarek: Places (ECM 1118)