I always find this time of year to be about more than kids returning to school and the dreaded start of months ending in “ber”. The mornings get darker, and leaves turn from green to browns and reds and I find myself listening to music more often and, with it, my choices widen.
Myra Brownbridge: Voyage Out (myrabrownbridge.com)
First on the metaphorical turntable is the debut from London double bassist and band leader Myra Brownbridge. It matches my mood perfectly. This is cosy jazz – and I mean that without any condescension – the stuff that you can listen to in any environment without offending anyone. Pour a drink, sit in your favourite chair and just listen to a solid band of good musicians creating a wonderful backdrop.
I’ve always been a fan of the double bass, and I find myself drawn to bass players that lead their band and I like to hear the tone of the instrument cut through. The double bass is far more than just the thud and thump that sits behind the more glamorous instruments and Myra’s tone is lovely. It’s warm, deep and runs beneath the music, grounding the flow but also being present as its own character. The album opens with Brownbridge’s sumptuous bass tone acting like the curtains to the world being opened.
I would have liked more grit here and there: it’s very “modern London jazz” and by that I mean very clean and smart – everyone knows their place and it’s very polite. I prefer my jazz to have some grunt and grime in the corners – some chaos and conflict to keep me interested and engaged. But saying that, I enjoyed the album for what it was (and the track Joy Of Being is a cracker!). As a debut, it’s a strong album and hopefully a sign of things to come.
The Paul Carlon Quintet: Blues For Vita (Deep Tone Records DT008)
If Voyage Out is the soundtrack to the early morning coffee and a browse through the socials, then Blues For Vita is for after-work drinks and stepping bravely towards the dance floor.
The album is a blend of Latin, blues and toe-tapping jazz. If I heard it in a bar, you would need to drag me out at closing time; although I’m far from being the king of the dance floor, New York saxophonist Carlon produces joyous and contagious music. If you like the first few bars of the album, you will like the entire album. It has Latin grooves by the cupful and drips with rum and attitude. This is music for the feet with tracks Dee Dot and Colored Paper setting out the stall early. It doesn’t really let up until final track Zooming Into The Void, and the album benefits from this commitment. It’s an audio postcard.
I wonder sometimes if jazz is guilty of being a little stuffy – from my experience, it certainly can be in the live setting – but there should always be a place in jazz for fun, and this album is just that. It grabs you and doesn’t let up until your head is nodding or you’re seriously thinking about booking a flight to Cuba.
Mark Cherrie Quartet: Any Anxious Colour (Windmill Jazz, WJCD002)
Mark Cherrie’s record opens with the title track, and it’s pure dreamy escapism, with a cool saxophone (Dave O’Higgins) and synth playing with a central riff while the leader’s steel pan (a first – for me, at any rate – in jazz) fills in the gaps with a sumptuous tone. [Try Othello Molineaux with Jaco Pastorius nearly 50 years ago – Ed.) It must be difficult to convey darker emotions from an instrument that will always be associated with happiness, sunshine and holidays. But somehow Mark Cherrie does it.
I’ll admit this album took a little while to appeal to me. I think I had some block in accepting that steel pan could work in jazz (again my own preconception) but it does more than that: it produces a totally different sound to everything else going on around it. Ole Mas requires the band to step firmly into syncopated Latin rhythms where percussion is king and the steel pan begins to step back to allow the strength of the band to take over. As it evolves it’s clear this is far more than a jazz album with steel pan as the lead instrument and this should be celebrated – you’re listening to a jazz album without gimmicks or gizmos.
I really like this album and I’m happy I persevered through repeat listens. Moonbeams And Butterflies cools the album with a well-placed ballad (with guest vocals by Chantelle Duncan) and is a throwback to those days when people fell in love to jazz music. It’s rich and beautifully recorded and acts as a pause before the equally impressive Bop 21 which, as you might have guessed, is a postcard to bop and it works. I shouldn’t sound surprised because when you go through the album and consider the different branches of jazz that this band explores you quickly discover you’re in safe hands and they can handle anything. If I were to sum this album up in two words I would say “surprisingly brilliant”.
