The arguably embattled “jazz community” continues on a path which, in keeping with the rest of the so-called music industry, seems intent on the denial of reality and from the marketing point of view at least utilising a form of excited puffing over talents the like of which are being touted on such a regular basis that their music quickly loses whatever lustre it might possess, at least for this writer.
Paul Dunmall, Kevin Figes: Duos (Slam SLAMCD2115) and Kevin Figes, Julie Tippetts: Happy Apples (Slam SLAMCD2117)
Without working for such an end I seem to have reached a point where that marketing puff (more commonly known as hype) is no longer attached to the music I review. The happy result of this is that the music in whatever jazz or jazz-related form it comes by and large gets the chance to “speak” for itself, and a couple of releases on the reinvigorated Slam label speak eloquently in the language of free and near-free improvisation. Of course, this strand has been woven into “the tradition” thanks in no small part to the decades it’s been played and documented on record, but still it has a greater chance than most of capturing the sound of surprise.
The reeds and flutes that Paul Dunmall and Kevin Figes bring to bear on their album Duos are judiciously deployed, and such is the resulting music that the case for free improvisation as a discipline in itself is restated in no uncertain terms. Opening track The Chat is literally that, while each subsequent track is titled from the instruments used. Nothing in the programme breaches the five-minute mark, and while Tenor And Alto Saxophone #1 beautifully exemplifies mutual understanding, Clarinet And Alto Flute #2 mines a seam of lyricism at odds with established understandings of the notion.
If anything, the album Happy Apples by the duo of Figes and Julie Tippetts is more rarefied. The fact that many of the 15 tracks clock in at under a minute, offsetting the almost 15 minutes taken up by the opening The Third Harmony, almost makes regarding the whole album as one continuous piece logical regardless of the sometimes abrupt changes of volume, mood, colour and the like. The titular apples are apparently a children’s toy-cum-random-sound-generator from the 1970s. Tippetts’ use of them here, along with Figes’ use of a squeaking plastic chicken, makes for a strand of anarchic intimacy.
Pinky Winters: Pinky + Lonely One (Fresh Sound Records FSRV 140)
Reflecting on the contrast between the present and the past lends substance to the idea that in the present over-exposure of quite negligible talents is a given, while in the past quite substantial talents were overlooked through under-exposure. Singer Pinky Winters, another talent to be kind of rescued for posterity in Fresh Sound’s The Best Voices Time Forgot series, is a case in point. If the ability to extract nuance and emotional depth from a lyric are among the jazz-singing credentials then Winters was a jazz singer, as she shows on an uptempo reading of But Not For Me, while the pathos she gets out of It Never Entered My Mind elevates her to a status above what posterity’s bestowed upon her. Her albums Pinky and Lonely One, both from over half a century ago, are paired on this release, and overall they offer a range of subtleties and joys more than able to withstand the repeated-listening test.
Nano Brothers: Ascend Flowers (Klaeng Records 087)
The Nano Brothers are Johannes Ludwig on alto and soprano saxes and pianist Jurgen Friedrich. Their album Ascend Flowers errs on the side of enlivened intimacy on something like Active Reflective, which is rife with implications of mapping out territory, while a kind of animated reflection comes to the fore on Wild Trust, although any notions of the truly wild are held at a discreet distance. Even with this in mind their music has more bite than a lot of wistful, watercolour contemporary jazz.
Anna Webber: simpletrio2000 (Intakt CD 430)
Anna Webber’s simpletrio2000 is comparatively more invigorated overall, and the spirit of adventure more pronounced. Across its 10-minute duration Miiire offers a platter of ear food resulting from shifting dynamics and the kind of understanding that arguably flows only from a group working together as a unit yet still intuitively allowing space for the music to breathe, and for the listener to appreciate the consequent subtleties. Idiom 7 bridges the old inside-outside divide in a manner not permissive of slacking; the animation level is high and the music’s exploratory.
Hubbub: abb abb abb (Relative Pitch Records RPR1191)
Hubbub’s abb abb abb is on the always enterprising Relative Pitch label. Such is the emphasis on the exploratory on two lengthy pieces (abb clocking in at almost 40 minutes and abb abb at almost 20) that I found myself checking on the line-up of alto sax, tenor sax, piano, electric guitar and percussion, in view of how the music’s quite at odds with the implications of it. This is a good thing for anyone for whom the familiar is some kind of quiet anathema, with atonal depths and fleeting subtleties to the fore.
Miguel Zenón: Golden City (Miel Music)
Finally, assuming (maybe wrongly) that the post-bop mainstream is one of the most densely populated areas of the jazz world, the Puerto Rican alto sax player Miguel Zenon pulls off the not inconsiderable feat of coming up with something fresh on Golden City, a suite of pieces inspired by San Francisco, in particular that city’s political and demographic evolution. Whilst the music doesn’t stray outside well-established parameters, Zenon’s deft arrangements, realised by a nine-piece group including pianist Matt Mitchell and trombonist Alan Ferber, are cliché-free and the commitment of soloists, including the leader and guitarist Miles Ozaki, is never in doubt, making for a refreshing listening experience.
Wayne Escoffery: Alone (Smoke Sessions Records SSR-2405)
Falling right within the modern mainstream, yet coming with a depth of identity that with over-exposure has grown increasingly difficult to find, this quartet album documents tenor sax player Escoffery at a moment in his artistic life where reflection and a kind of focused quality are hallmarks of his work. The presence of Ron Carter on bass forges a link back to the beginning of this particular brand of post-bop and the overall results, not least in a reading of The Shadow Of Your Smile, leavened by a variety of dark ambiguous shadings not usually associated with the song, amount to a substantial set.