Archive for August, 2011

August 31, 2011

Touchin’ On Trane: 20 Years Later

by Phil Freeman
Buy it from Amazon

On October 31 and November 1, 1991, saxophonist Charles Gayle, bassist William Parker, and drummer Rashied Ali occupied a Berlin recording studio. Jost Gebers, head of the FMP label, was in the booth. I don’t know how much music they recorded, but they released just under 67 minutes’ worth of blazing, full-force improv, divided into five tracks simply titled “Part A,” “Part B,” “Part C,” “Part D” and “Part E.”

Touchin’ On Trane was originally issued in 1993, but its 1991 recording is what I’m choosing to celebrate. The album begins with a thunderous (if abbreviated) drum solo from Ali, whereupon Gayle and Parker join him and something almost like a groove is set up. The pace is frantic and the rhythm intense throughout “Part A,” with Gayle blowing fiercely, but—and this is crucial; it’s what makes the album such a landmark achievement—retaining melody and clarity of thought at all times. Behind him, Parker and Ali are a ferocious rhythm section, one which becomes much more than that when the saxophonist drops out around the eight-minute mark, permitting the bassist to take an extended solo as Ali limits himself to cymbals and hi-hat. When the drummer begins his own solo with a series of exploratory, yet forceful taps and thumps on various drums (including an astonishingly powerful foot) and more breathtaking hi-hat work, it puts the capstone on what’s already been established as a time-freezing landmark in free jazz.

August 29, 2011

Writers Who Can’t Play, Players Who Can’t Write

by Phil Freeman

Recently, there’s been a lot of discussion in jazz circles about whether critics need to be able to play the music themselves in order to be credible. Like, I suspect, most people who write about jazz (occasionally for money, and often not, something which will come up again below), I have been following this debate with some interest. It was all sparked by this August 21 Boston Jazz Blog article by Roanna Forman, and continued on Patrick Jarenwattananon’s NPR-hosted A Blog Supreme (twice), on Hank Shteamer’s blog, on Twitter, on Facebook, and probably in darkened corners of actual jazz clubs, too.

I first briefly entered the fray on Facebook, after saxophonist Greg Osby posted an essay of his from a few years back, wherein he argued that reviewers should take into account the arduous travel conditions that impact the life of a touring musician before laying down too harsh a critique of a given night’s set. That’s a reasonable point. Some of his commenters, though, proceeded to argue that not only should non-players refrain from critique, but that non-African Americans could pretty much keep their opinions to themselves, too. (Osby did not endorse this viewpoint.)

August 26, 2011

CD Giveaway: Nick Hempton

by Phil Freeman

The other day I bought an album from eMusic, and by the end of the second track I already regretted it. I won’t tell you what record it was; I’ll just say it was the second album by a young alto saxophonist (the only album of his available on eMusic), and as I posted on Twitter yesterday, I should have taken the fact that it had the word “Cerebral” right there in the title as a warning. My own fault.

Here’s the thing. I have no problem with jazz musicians being smart. You’ve gotta have a certain baseline level of intelligence to want to play jazz, period. I just wish certain players wouldn’t advertise their smarts (or, more accurately, their level of education) quite so crudely in their compositions. Don’t launch an album with two minutes of unaccompanied, twisty-turny, knuckle-popping saxophone acrobatics and then slowly drift into some midtempo, rhythmically complex but melodically wan exercise in tricky scales and harmonic befuddlement. Start with a song. A composition that’ll stick in the listener’s ear and brain, something that’ll make them put your CD in the player a second, third and fourth time, anticipating hearing that hook again.

Australian-born, New York-based saxophonist Nick Hempton (also an alto player, by the way) understands this. The second CD by his quartet, The Business, is the product of a sharp and witty mind (track titles include “Press One for Bupkis,” “Not Here for a Haircut,” and “Flapjacks in Belo”), but it’s also the work of a kick-ass band. When they swing, they do it like they want you to get up and dance. There are sections of the piece “From Bechet, Byas and Fats,” a nearly nine-minute burner at the disc’s midpoint, that sound like they’re heading into Louis Jordan territory. And how does The Business begin? With “Flapjacks in Belo,” a piece that takes a Brazilian rhythm, then lights its tail feathers on fire. Meanwhile, the melody line is more than memorable; it’s practically unforgettable. It’s one of those hooks you’ll wish was available as a ringtone.

The whole record is like this. Even on ballads (there are two, of 10 tracks total), these guys burn it down. The band includes pianist Art Hirahara, bassist Marco Panascia, drummer Dan Aran, and guitarist Yotam Silberstein, all but one of whom are part of Hempton’s working band. So maybe you should go check them out, minus Silberstein, when they celebrate the album’s release with a performance at Smalls on Saturday.

Posi-Tone Records, Hempton’s label and the subject of an article in the current print edition of Burning Ambulance (click here to purchase), has provided me with five copies of The Business to give away. Want one? You should. To get one, email burningambulance@gmail.com and tell me the names of a few of your favorite alto sax-led recordings (albums, individual tracks, whatever). You’ve got a week; winners will be chosen on Friday, September 2.

And hey! Here’s a free MP3 of “Flapjacks in Belo” to convince you!

The BusinessNick Hempton
“Flapjacks In Belo” (mp3)
from “The Business”
(Posi-Tone Records)

Buy at iTunes Music Store
More On This Album

August 23, 2011

Lavalette

Lavalette is a new female-fronted pop-rock band, very much in the Avril Lavigne/Paramore vein. That in itself is only slightly interesting. But the band’s membership caused me to cock an ear – the lineup includes guitarist Mike Dijan of Breakdown and Crown of Thornz and bassist Larry Susi of Breakdown, Subzero and Crusade, joined by two different drummers: Spacehog‘s Johnny Cragg and Lou Medina of Breakdown and All Out War. Now, I worship Breakdown. Their 1987 demo is one of the greatest New York hardcore records ever, up there with Sick Of It All‘s Blood, Sweat and No Tears and Judge‘s Bringin’ It Down, no joke. So anything that former Breakdown members are working on, I’ll pay attention to, just out of nostalgic loyalty.

But back to Lavalette. They sound exactly nothing like Breakdown. Like I said up top, they sound like Avril Lavigne or Paramore. But here’s the interesting thing: their debut single is a cover of the Cro-Mags’ “Malfunction.” And it sounds like this:

Some people are very butthurt about this. Not me. I think it just proves what I’ve always known: that “Malfunction” is a well-written song that had the potential to be damn catchy. So now I’m actually intrigued to hear more music by Lavalette.

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