Keith Jarrett Trio: Bye Bye Blackbird (ECM 1467)

| Tyran Grillo

Keith Jarrett Trio
Bye Bye Blackbird

Keith Jarrett piano
Gary Peacock bass
Jack DeJohnette drums
Recorded October 12, 1991 at Power Station, New York
Engineer: Jay Newland
Mastered by Jan Erik Kongshaug
Executive producer: Manfred Eicher

Seeing that Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock, and Jack DeJohnette all once shared a stage with Miles Davis early on in their careers, it’s no wonder that they should step into New York’s Power Station studio, where the trio first took shape, for this classic tribute session. Recorded just 13 days after the Prince of Darkness’s passing, Bye Bye Blackbird sits above the rest for its sheer profundity of expression. The Keith Jarrett Trio is, of course, not an outfit to take itself lightly: with an average track length of over eight minutes, we can rest assured that every tune will be carried to conclusions far beyond our reckoning.

The title opener welcomes us into a nostalgic world, glimpses of what it must have been like to work with Miles. The high-end musings into which the music evolves speak to the ecstasy that any such musician must have felt at those moments of ethereal access. One cannot help but notice how energetic, for the most part, this session is. Between the swinging “Straight No Chaser” and “Butch And Butch,” there’s more than enough to get excited about. Jarrett is as fine as ever, singing his way through every spiraling change like a child skipping into the magic of “Summer Night.” Here, Peacock plays with a more consolatory air, allowing a tear or two before the 18.5-minute group improv “For Miles” lifts wheels from tarmac. After a spate from DeJohnette and a lush pianistic flowering, the cloud cover of our lingering grief fades with each new shift. The inescapable “I Thought About You” then brings us into the excerpted “Blackbird, Bye Bye,” closing us out with a kiss and a sigh.

Yet for me, the brushed beauties of “You Won’t Forget Me” ring most authentically. A reflective solo from Peacock buoys Jarrett, who stretches his own veils across the stars, cupping an entire city in his hands and keeping all who dwell within it warm against the chill of remorse. We will indeed not ever forget him.

A note on production. The sound of this recording is distinctive—compressed and sere. I imagine it was recorded with very little preparation, and the fact that it was later mastered by Jan Erik Kongshaug indicates an absence of engineers when the tracks were laid down. This gives the music an archival ring, reaching back to the atmosphere of the 60s, without which nothing on this heartfelt album would have existed. Whether calculated or not, I appreciate the throwback. One can feel this music on the verge of exploding, looking respectfully, distantly, and with deference to the past. Suitably recorded for a moment-in-time sort of feel, it is like the capsule of a bygone era unearthed in a silent world.

<< Krakatau: Volition (ECM 1466)
>> Dmitri Shostakovich: 24 Preludes and Fugues (ECM 1469/70 NS)

Krakatau: Volition (ECM 1466)

| Tyran Grillo

Krakatau
Volition

Raoul Björkenheim guitars, shekere
Jone Takamäki tenor saxophone, krakaphone, toppophone, whirlpipe
Uffe Krokfors acoustic bass
Alf Forsman drums
Recorded December 1991 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Steve Lake

After the blazing kick in the seat of Matinale, my expectations for Krakatau’s ECM debut were high. But from the whirlpipes and ritualistic drums that open “Brujo” I realized that expectations have no place in a sound-world like this. Guitarist Raoul Björkenheim, tenor man Jone Takamäki, bassist Uffe Krokfors, drummer Alf Forsman: the four enfant terribles of this outfit play like nobody’s business, adding to their milieu self-made instruments like the throaty, frog-like toppophone and the krakaphone, a long-lost cousin of the didgeridoo. From the get-go, Björkenheim’s smoky enigmas unleash dreams of furtive energy, leaving us wanting more and getting it in the title track. This one drios a rough tenor into scurrying drums before squeegeeing out an equally gut-wrenching guitar solo, which plants us on a straight shot toward the ethereal “Nai.” Takamäki rips the night again in “Bullroarer,” setting off a free jazz extravaganza I can only describe as gorgeous. “Changgo” gets psychoanalytic on us, turning the gears of a giant jack-in-the-box that never pops, but rather brings out hidden anticipations. And by the time we’ve passed through the wall of sound that is “Little Big Horn,” we are ready for anything the final cut, “Dalens Ande,” might have to offer. Another stunning set from some of ECM’s most underappreciated outliers, Volition is dripping with exactly that. The sonic equivalent of a double shot, save this one for a depressing day and it will be sure to pick you up. Then again, it might send you down the rabbit hole.

<< Charles Lloyd: Notes From Big Sur (ECM 1465)
>> Keith Jarrett Trio: Bye Bye Blackbird (ECM 1467)

Ralph Towner: Open Letter (ECM 1462)

| Tyran Grillo

Ralph Towner
Open Letter

Ralph Towner classical and 12-string guitars, synthesizer
Peter Erskine drums
Recorded July 1991 and February 1992 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

It might be tempting to dismiss this Ralph Towner effort as New Age fluff, but the music is so gorgeous that any such considerations fall to the wayside. Yet the wayside is precisely where Towner sets his sights, which is to say that his interest lies in edges where musical idioms meet. He explores these lines, not unlike the blotted cover, with an ease of diction at the fret board that is recognizable and comforting. Drummer Peter Erskine shares the bill, but Towner adds a few synth touches for broader effect, as in “The Sigh,” which opens the session in a cleft of fluid energy.

There are two sides to this album. One is resplendent, exemplified in the congregation of 12-string and cymbals that is “Adrift.” This resonant vessel shares waters with “Magic Pouch” and “Alar” (a tympani-infused concoction that is one of Towner’s finest), both of which blossom in a tropical climate and funnel their tide-swept secrets into “Magniola Island.” Any possible tourist traps therein are elided by Towner’s ever-imaginative picking.

The other side comes through Towner’s solos. The jazzy riffs of “Short’n Stout” pair well with the intimate geographies of “Waltz For Debby,” while the blissful “I Fall In Love Too Easily” lobs us into the goodness of “Nightfall.”

Towner is as astute as ever in his execution. Whether it’s a standard or his own musical vision, we get the feeling that everything he plays is an open letter.

<< Edward Vesala/Sound & Fury: Invisible Storm (ECM 1461)
>> John Surman: Adventure Playground (ECM 1463)

Louis Sclavis Quintet: Rouge (ECM 1458)

| Tyran Grillo

 

Louis Sclavis Quintet
Rouge

Louis Sclavis clarinets, soprano saxophone
Dominique Pifarély violin
Bruno Chevillon bass
François Raulin piano, synthesizer
Christian Ville drums
Recorded September 1991 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Rouge is the magical label debut from clarinetist and soprano saxophonist Louis Sclavis, fronting here a group whose unity betrays an innocence honed to a galactic edge.

The album is an organically connected unit, a suit of sights and sounds working in concert toward a vastness that outstrips them all. I cannot help, from the vantage point of retrospection, draw certain musical connections throughout this hour-long journey. First are the Edward Vasala-like touches of “Kali la nuit,” which like the enigmatic drummer paints a veritable field whose constellations are marked by the hoof-prints of wild horses. Tales of war and tradition intermingle until they become one unbreakable braid, contrasting visceral screams with old-school togetherness. One then encounters the specter of minimalism in “Reeves,” which seems fed through a kaleidoscope filled with shards of Philip Glass. These are merely an exploratory introduction to the intense electric violin of Dominique Pifarély, who stirs the drink until there’s only ice left in the glass. A heady piano trio fills out the backdrop all the while with a glittering appliqué of finely wrought support. “Les bouteilles” is perhaps the most eclectic. With head nods ranging from John Surman (in its exquisite attention to melodic and technical detail), Steve Reich (in the string playing), and Pat Metheney (in the exuberant close), it’s a fantastic ride.

These comparisons do nothing to rob Sclavis of his originality, for he casts a shadow from a distinct angle of mind and experience. As in the dawn-drenched threads of “One,” he draws his craft through varicolored needles. His flair for the programmatic is also notable, as in “Nacht,” in which bassist Bruno Chevillon folds his alchemy into the batter of the evening sky, baked to a crisp by distant stars and glazed with a sugary free jazz concoction courtesy of drummer Christian Ville. “Reflet” is an even starrier affair, one of many celestial moments in the album’s remainder, all of which find rest in “Face Nord.” Like a rewound VHS tape, this highly cinematic track spools back through climax, tragedy, romance, and into an innocent beginning. This we find fleshed forward in “Yes love,” the album’s last, stringing us across pianist François Raulin’s web of emotional power, innocence, and honesty—the tenets by which this groups lives, breathes, and plays.

<< Anouar Brahem: Conte de L’incroyable Amour (ECM 1457)
>> Veljo Tormis: Forgotten Peoples (ECM 1459/60 NS)

Anouar Brahem: Conte de l’incroyable amour (ECM 1457)

| Tyran Grillo

 

Anouar Brahem
Conte de l’incroyable amour

Anouar Brahem oud
Barbaros Erköse clarinet
Kudsi Erguner ney
Lassad Hosni bendir, darbouka
Recorded October 1991 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

After a memorable ECM debut with Barzakh, Anouar Brahem recorded this even more memorable sophomore effort one year later. Carrying over percussionist Lassad Hosni, Brahem welcomes Turkish musicians Kudsi Erguner on ney and Barbaros Erköse on clarinet. Erköse, a gypsy music specialist, adds rich colors to an already dense palette, weaving tethers that pull us into tender worlds. His duets with Erguner (“Etincelles” and “Peshrev Hidjaz Homayoun”) stand out as some of the album’s most flowing. The title track brings the patter of clay drums, weaving a gorgeous ney into our vision. (The melodies and rhythms here put this listener immediately in mind of the song “I Love You” from Omar Faruk Tekbilek’s album One Truth.) Captivating. Erguner shines again in “Diversion.” Slaloming through every drummed pillar with the conviction of a bird in search of prey and yet with the delicacy of an angel avoiding such violence, he brings a sense of history to every lilting gesture. “Nayzak” revives the clarinet amid oud and drums for a stunning taste of mountains and the plains. The album’s meat, though, comes in Brahem’s unaccompanied storytelling. From the dawn chorus of “L’oiseau de bois” and invigorating virtuosity of “Battements,” through the tender air “Le chien sur les genoux de la devineresse,” and on to “Epilogue,” there is unimaginable depth of yearning in every twang and strum.

This album is all about the composition, stripped to the barest essentials of melodic craft and burrowing straight into the marrow of our past lives.

<< Eleni Karaindrou: The Suspended Step Of The Stork (ECM 1456)
>> Louis Sclavis Quintet: Rouge (ECM 1458)

Barre Phillips: Aquarian Rain (ECM 1451)

| Tyran Grillo

Barre Phillips
Aquarian Rain: Music for bass, percussion and tape

Barre Phillips double-bass
Alain Joule percussion
Recorded May 1991 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Constant readers will by now be well aware of my Barre Phillips worship. It seems the man can do no wrong when left to his own devices under the auspices of my favorite label, and Aquarian Rain is no different. As a first, this time around the individual tracks go less by titles than by explanatory cues, for in the first, “Bridging,” we find connections already being made between disparate continents. Its guitar-like exuberance and melodic percussion (courtesy of Alain Joule) skirt arco territories toward stillness. “The Flow” brings about a sense of fluidity through electronic whispers, Joule’s vivid comments accentuating the bass’s inner core and painting its outer skin with observations. Phillips elicits a range of avian effects, from twittering concealed in foliage to lanky elegance of cranes and waterfowl, both hunting and in the rapture of a mating dance. “Ripples Edge” does indeed trace the water’s rim with its opening harmonics and navigates surface tensions like a water skater. Grammatical flair abounds in “Inbetween I and e.” Like a skilled poet who learns the rules only to break them with creative beauty, Phillips seems to mike a degrading clock from the inside. “Ebb” recesses into “Promenade de Memoire,” which like memory is a deeply rooted thrum torn by cries of the present. This intrusion of technology upon the emotional makes a fascinating blend of startling breakers and ponderous undertows. “Eddies,” along with “Early Tide,” puts me in mind of Andy Goldsworthy’s spinning wood in the documentary Working with Time, while “Water Shed” takes shelter from the oncoming storm by ruminating among tackle and life preservers until we get finally to the title track, which empties like a pipe into a pile of panned materials, finding its closure in the chatter of icicles.

Such astounding sound colors are difficult to describe and bear comprehension only through listening. Needless to say, they coalesce into yet another cerebral and perfectly realized episode in the Phillips drama. His is a highly melodic strain of the avant-garde. Not that you’ll be humming these tunes anytime soon, but they’ll certainly hum you.

<< Keith Jarrett: Bridge Of Light (ECM 1450 NS)
>> Heiner Goebbels: Hörstücke (ECM 1452-54)

Trevor Watts/Moiré Music Drum Orchestra: A Wider Embrace (ECM 1449)

| Tyran Grillo

Trevor Watts
Moiré Music Drum Orchestra
A Wider Embrace

Trevor Watts alto and soprano saxophones
Nana Tsiboe african drums, congas, gonje, djembe, lead twanga, wea flute, vocals
Nee-Daku Patato congas, african drums, berimbau, bells, cabasa, vocals
Jojo Yates mbira, twanga, cowbells, african drums, bells, cabasa, wea flute, vocals
Nana Appiah african drums, lead wea flute, shakers, cabasa, cowbells, vocals
Paapa J. Mensah kit drums, shakers, wea flute, vocals
Colin McKenzie bass guitar
Recorded April 1993 at Angel Studios, London
Engineer: Gary Thomas
Produced by Steve Lake

Blending Ghanaian folk music with groove and jazz elements, saxophonist Trevor Watts and bassist Colin McKenzie join a group of multitalented drummers for one of ECM’s smoothest crossovers. My ignorance of all the musicians involved allowed me to take its sounds as they came during my first listen. The energy that surges from the first drum hit of “Egugu” frees a chorus of voices calling to the sky as every drum leaves a footprint upon the plains. Watts treats these visions not as mere backdrop but as an environment into which he must totally integrate himself. The medley that follows is an album in and of itself, starting with the spirited “Ahoom Mbram” and ending with the drums-only “Tetegramatan.” Watts adds a nice rasp to his soprano in “Opening Gambit” (and don’t miss the shawm-like circular strains of “Brekete Takai”), while “Otublohu” brings on the fun(k) and then some with some heady alto work over a firm grounding of bass and get-out-of-your-seat-and-dance rhythms. After the pleasant excursions of “Bomsu” and the a cappella “Hunters’ Song: Ibrumankuman,” the tinkling percussion of “The Rocky Road To Dublin” dives into a swanky trio with an ecstatic finish. The jazziest moods await in “Southern Memories.” Throwing his smoky alto into the night, Watts engages a funky bass line and powerful vocals, only to recede for the congregation of flutes and spirits in “We Are,” which carries us out on invisible wings.

A fantastic coming together, superbly recorded. This is the art of song personified.

<< Cherry/Åberg/Stenson: Dona Nostra (ECM 1448)
>> Keith Jarrett: Bridge Of Light (ECM 1450 NS)

Don Cherry: Dona Nostra (ECM 1448)

| Tyran Grillo

Don Cherry
Dona Nostra

Don Cherry trumpet
Lennart Åberg saxophones, flute
Bobo Stenson piano
Anders Jormin bass
Anders Kjellberg drums
Okay Temiz percussion
Recorded March 1993 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Trumpeter Don Cherry gets cozy with some of ECM’s brightest European talents for a onetime sextet of notable introspection: reedman Lennart Åberg, pianist Bobo Stenson, bassist Anders Jormin, drummer Anders Kjellberg, and percussionist Okay Temiz. It’s hard not to love the very concept, and the music lives up.

“In Memoriam” opens the session’s eyes in a waking dream of deferential pianism and scurrying percussive accents. Jormin’s laddered circles sweep through Stenson’s, while lovely tenor work returns to the soil, even as it holds on to memories of the sun. “Fort Cherry” at last puts its namesake’s lips to brass, melding shades of Ornette Coleman into warm piano strains. For the direct Coleman digs, we need look no further than “Race Face” (which gives us the satisfaction of traction with some fresh and lively playing) and “What Reason Could I Give” (a noteworthy duet between Stenson and Cherry that is also the highpoint of this date). “Arrows” winds a stem of bass, pollinated by a flurry of spores. Well-rounded soprano and bass solos twist into a quietly spasmodic ending. “M’Bizo” begins as a viscous, Nordic-sounding dirge before emptying its waters into a Charles Lloyd-shaped vessel, cycling back and forth between these two modes toward “Prayer,” which features lovely playing from Jormin, searing lines from Cherry, and some beatnik style percussion thrown in for good measure. The suitably abstract color show of “Vienna” then sets us down in the ecstatic “Ahayu-Da,” all laced together by Stenson’s consonant presence for a breathless finish.

While everyone contributes to this deceptively open session, it would be a crime to neglect Temiz’s vital contributions. These and more make this an album of incredible subtlety to be savored.

<< Dino Saluzzi Group: Mojotoro (ECM 1447)
>> Trevor Watts/Moiré Music Drum Orchestra: A Wider Embrace (ECM 1449)

Dino Saluzzi Group: Mojotoro (ECM 1447)

| Tyran Grillo

Dino Saluzzi Group
Mojotoro

Dino Saluzzi bandoneón, percussion, voice
Celso Saluzzi bandoneón, percussion, voice
Felix “Cuchara” Saluzzi tenor and soprano saxophones, clarinet
Armando Alonso guitars, voice
Guillermo Vadalá electric bass, voice
José Maria Saluzzi drums, voice
Arto Tuncboyaci percusson, voice
Recorded May 1991 at Estudios Ion, Buenos Aires
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

On this wonderful date from the early 90s, Dino Saluzzi joins brothers Celso (doubling Dino on bandoneón), Felix (on saxophones and clarinet), and drummer José for a true family effort. Fleshed out by guitar, bass, and percussion, the so-called Dino Saluzzi Band strikes out with a solid session from start to finish. Even in such a populated setting, Saluzzi’s characteristic backward glance is as intimate as ever, threading every needle on the horizon with voices from a valued past. His bandoneón bubbles from a fissure of memory as Felix’s gravelly tenor waxes mythic across the plains, but finds its purest sentiment in “Tango a mi padre.” One of my all-time favorite Saluzzi songs, this time it is augmented by a buttery soft soprano. This segues into “Mundos,” which finds Felix back to tenor over rolling hills of percussion and reedy drones. “Lustrin” is circumscribed by singing children, drawing us into a wall of nostalgia, at the center of which stands the personable guitar of Armando Alonso. Dino pairs with Felix yet again (this time on clarinet) in the mournful “Viernes Santo” for a track that wouldn’t feel at all out of place on an Eleni Karaindrou soundtrack. One of Dino’s best, to be sure. “Milonga (La Puñalada)” is a more dance-like number, which with a shake of the hips and the wag of a finger leads us into “El Camino,” a straight path into the beyond, where the past reigns anew.

Dino Saluzzi’s salt-of-the-earth sound enchants, the power of his inspiration all the greater when activating an already fine band of musicians. There can be no room for gimmicks; only song.

<< Tamia/Pierre Favre: Solitudes (ECM 1446)
>> Cherry/Åberg/Stenson: Dona Nostra (ECM 1448)