jueves, 15 de enero de 2015

Alan Broadbent - You and the Night and the Music (2003)

You and the Night and the Music; 
I Wish I Knew; 
With the Wind and the Rain in her Hair; 
Baubles, Bangles, and Beads; 
What Knew?
Dearly Beloved

Alan Broadbent - piano
Brian Bromberg - bass
Joe LaBarbera - drums

Recorded at Castle Oaks Studios, Los Angeles, California on March 15 & 16, 2002. Includes liner notes by Steven Graybow. Best known for his arrangements for Michael Feinstein and Mel Torme, Alan Broadbent sets out here to showcase his formidable piano skills. Teamed up with drummer Joe La Barbera and bassist Brian Bromberg, Broadbent performs in the style of classic trio jazz. Unlike the highly exploratory albums of Keith Jarrett, Brad Mehldau, and other post-modern players, Broadbent's work recalls the work of such disparate pianists as Dick Hyman, Oscar Peterson, and George Shearing. To this end, Broadbent uses full chordal voicings and extensive left-hand counterpoint; it is apparent that he is quite a virtuoso. Key selections on this album include the title track, which is performed here as an energetic bossa nova number, and the equally hot "With the Wind and the Rain in Her Hair." The latter features a particularly adroit bass solo from Bromberg and a characteristically deft drum break from La Barbera. Broadbent himself steps outside the box on this number, proving that he can sound quite contemporary when the mood strikes him.

The two-time Grammy winning arranger (for Natalie Cole and Charlie Haden featuring Shirley Horn) is used to working with big band charts and multi-harmonic orchestral arrangements, but at heart he's a pianist with a great love for standards and all things jazz. The idea on this beautiful trio date is to go small, strip down to the basics of seven classics and see what he -- long a believer in the often unpredictable joys of improvisation -- can do with the swinging help of bassist Brian Bromberg and drummer Joe La Barbera. For those who love piano trio music, the answer is, quite a lot. The tunes range in time from six-and-a-half to nine minutes, plenty of time to have intricate emotional conversations that dash on unexpected journeys. The title track starts out like a ballad, but within minutes becomes a spirited, jaunty stroll with rushes of flurried ivories keeping pace above the brushes and Bromberg's cool throb. They play "I Wish I Knew" a little simpler, as a graceful romance, but pick up the pace with the odd locomotive meters and snappy basslines of "With the Wind and the Rain in Her Hair." "What's New" begins with a low register cadenza underpinning some wild upper register movement before settling into a tender, reflective pocket. It's beautifully played, but the most remarkable feature is the choice of material which draws more obscure selections from familiar names. All the more open palette for the trio to play with.


Derek Bailey - Aida (1980 )

Derek Bailey 1980 Aida 
Derek Bailey (1930-2005) Acoustic Guitar
Solo Guitar Improvisations

01.Paris (19'37)
02.gata Snow (6'56)
03.Echo in Another's Mind (14'08)

Time: 40'41
All tracks improvised as heard.

01.Recorded by Jean-Marc Foussat at Dunois, Paris on July 4, 1980.
02-03 Recorded by Adam Skeaping at ICA, London on August 3, 1980.
"Dedicated to the memory of Aida Akira 1946-1978." (Japanese jazz writer and promoter)
Typography by Jamie Muir.

LP originally released by Incus UK 1982 #40

By Joe Panzner 'Aida on Second Thought' 

"Imagine a music free of the constraints of time. Locked in the endless present, it has no recollection of its past or premonitions of its future. With no allegiance to the weight of history, the sounds freeze and fold on themselves in a ceaseless exploration of the instant. Freedom from the future renders the music unwaveringly bold and separate from the fear of consequence. The need to establish artificial structures or carve narrative from acoustic phenomena crumbles under the calculation of the moment’s countless fluctuations. Sound becomes both fearless and fragile, as strident and organic as it is fleeting and impermanent.

For more than thirty years, Derek Bailey and his guitar have pursued a new language that would realize the possibilities of such a liberated music. His efforts to erase the boundaries of musical history have resulted in an alien sound completely unlike his predecessors and wholly his own - a tapestry of shattered glass harmonics, string snaps, feedback whistle, and crab-like arpeggiations. In a group context, Bailey’s splinters and abrasions serve to disrupt any tendency for repetition or stasis and to act as a catalyst for true spontaneity. When left to his own devices as a soloist, Bailey revels in the liberties suggested by his idealized vision of music. These solo performances trace tangents unbounded by the will of the group and face no limitations but Bailey’s seemingly endless imagination and invention. Recorded in 1980 and reissued by Dexter’s Cigar in 1996, Aida represents some of the finest solo performances in the Derek Bailey catalog and in free improvisation in general. Its sound-world is as uncompromising, confrontational, and consistently beautiful as the principles on which it was founded.

To describe the tracks in a narrative sense is futile and doomed by the music’s very definitions. Instead, the listener is flooded with a stream of impressions and half-memories. Opening track 'Paris' pits leaping motives against dissonant harmonic flourishes and scratched chords. The acoustic guitar becomes an orchestra of disconnected instruments fluttering through every imaginable pitch range with a paradoxical mix of effortless technique and reckless abandon. Complex rhythmic stutters coalesce into a logic all their own, forming a delicate balance of gentle and jarring interactions atop a shifting foundation of micro-pulses. At times, the music is sparse and almost unbearably tense, as if it could disintegrate at the slightest touch or dissolve into the thinnest air. At others, it is a scramble of impossibly high scratches and thudding percussive rumbles as dense and impenetrable as the softer moments are transparent. No reason but the non-reason of spontaneity dictates the inclusion of the gentle or the harsh; every sound hangs in the air as its own entity, unhindered by time and untouched by pressures of context and development.

At once delicate and sturdy as the thinnest silver wire, 'Niigata Snow' stretches seven minutes into a still eternity. A cloud of harmonics breaks the opening silence to evoke the snow suggested by the title - only each tiny snowflake is graced with razor-sharp metal edges. A counterpoint of stratospheric bell tones and the koto-like ring of prepared strings threatens to unravel at any instant, only to save itself from dissolution at the last possible instant every time. The improvisation is punctuated with the aching silences that follow each decaying note and heighten the listener’s attention for even the slightest vibrations in each space. 'An Echo in Another’s Mind' takes the language of 'Niigata Snow' and dirties it with harsh string scrapes and pulsing half-step harmonies to create a more active landscape. Bristling with visceral impact and an internal restlessness, 'An Echo' shivers beneath icy scratching before exploding into a frenzy of rapid-fire strum and loose-string buzzes. The temporal manipulations here are created through sheer nervous tension, through the constant unknowing of the next gesture and in the almost-tangible anxiety of the unpredictable. Whereas 'Niigata Snow' stretches to a chasm the space between notes, 'An Echo in Another’s Mind' crowds the air with active gestures and silences of surprise instead of stillness.

So what can be made of this music, a music crystallized in the very moment of its creation? The distortions of time found in such music are difficult to capture in words, but invariably captivating to hear in the fractured language of Bailey’s music. Seconds stretch to eternities and eternities compress into the minutest details. A complete suspension of time becomes rule over all and presses the music into a permanent foreground of infinite detail. Or as Bailey himself, always with the greatest of wit and wisdom, once said of his music: 'The ticks turn into tocks and the tocks turn into ticks.
Stylus Magazine 2003


Martin Fabricius Trio - Out of the White (2014)

The opening sounds of the title track of Out of the White herald that this is going to be something different. Electronic sounds begin the track, but closer listening reveals that these are being made ingeniously by Martin Fabricius' vibes. Bassist Christian Hougaard Nielsen enters, stating the theme supported by the quasi-electronic vibe sounds. Fabricius takes over to recap the theme now as a recognizable vibraphonist. At the turnaround, Mathias Heise adds his harmonica to the mix, eventually with drummer Jacob Hatholt setting up an unexpected lilting world-rhythm aided by Neff Irizarry's perfect comping. "Out of the White" turns out to imply sand, not snow.

All of the above happens within the first ninety seconds, completely overturning any preconceived notions about what a Danish trio (with guests) is going to sound like. Fabricius has known Hougaard and Irizarry since the nineties, Heise for the last eight years and Hatholt has been in the trio since 2011. Thus, his band knows his particular musical personality and brand of composition. Each tune (all written by Fabricius) tells its own story and has its own sound, but the album most decidedly has a unifying style.

Each musician is a virtuoso in his own right, with the sound produced when all are playing extremely attractive and ingratiating. No lead instrument is played in a conventional manner, especially Fabricius, who many times uses extreme sustain to envelop the other players with a shimmering curtain of sound.

The set is made up nine five to six minute vignettes, little stories that are internally consistent, yet which are quite different from one another, changing moods in unexpected ways. Each creates its own sound world; each builds in intensity, changing the space, only to recede.

What is this music? The sound of a harmonica always has a French feel, and many of the rhythms created are vaguely of "world music" (but the band can lay down a very cool swing as in "Brother Pine"). Fabricius produces as many sounds from the vibes as he does melodic lines, and the arrangements many times evoke the happy/sad feeling of a Fellini film.

After taking us on a trip through eight musical stories, Out of the White ends with "A New Beginning" which belongs in Big Sky country of the American West, just the place to complete the journey.

Ending with a piece which paints a very clear picture of open space is emblematic of what Fabricius and his band has achieved: telling stories which create large spaces within individually unique musical miniatures.

The effect is very refreshing and joyous, with excitement created without pyrotechnics, but by the use of exquisite control within a feeling of freedom.

Martin Fabricius: vibraphone
Christian Hougaard: double bass
Jacob Hatholt: drums
Mathias Heise: harmonica
Neff Irizarry: guitar

1. Out of the White
2. Bill's Will
3. Dear Anne
4. Homecoming
5. Brother Pine
6. Song Returned
7. Now You See It
8. Firedance
9. A New Beginning

"Hearing is Everything" Peter Watkins


Stanley Turrentine - Hustlin' (2002)

This is a typically excellent recording from the husband-wife team of tenor saxophonist Stanley Turrentine and organist Shirley Scott. With assistance from guitarist Kenny Burrell, bassist Bob Cranshaw, and drummer Otis Finch, Turrentine (who always had the skill of playing melodies fairly straight but with his own brand of soul) and Scott dig into "Love Letters," Lloyd Price's "Trouble," "Something Happens to Me," a couple of basic originals, and "Goin' Home." The Turrentine-Scott team never made an unworthy disc; all are easily recommended, including this one.

1. Trouble (NO. 2)
2. Love Letters
3. The Hustler
4. Ladyfingers
5. Something Happens To Me
6. Goin’ Home

Stanley Turrentine: tenor sax
Shirley Scott: organ
Kenny Burrell: guitar
Bob Cranshaw: bass
Otis Finch: drums

Recorded on January 24 1964, at Van Gelder Studios