Branford Marsalis: Belonging (Blue Note 7548659)
Given his credentials, it is difficult to believe that it has taken this long for Branford Marsalis to be given a chance to record for Blue Note, added to the fact that this is his first new album for six years. He undoubtedly took a chance in replicating Keith Jarrett’s album of the same name from over 50 years ago, so it is a pleasure to announce he has succeeded in producing a triumph from start to finish. Obviously, leading an established group helps in the equation, the musicians’ empathy being part of the success story.
Whether on tenor or soprano the leader is subject to the urgings of Joey Calderazzo (piano), Eric Revis (bass) and Justin Faulkner (drums) – completing a line-up that’s just about perfect for a musician of his persuasion. This soon becomes apparent as the dancing rhythm of Spiral Dance unfolds to reveal a tasty solo from the pianist and Branford engages in an agile solo, mainly set in the middle or lower reaches of the tenor. By contrast, the romantic ballad Blossom finds him evoking the spirit of classic tenor men of yesteryear, totally devoid of plagiarism but setting the appropriate mood.
Long As You Know You’re Living Yours is by turns funky, bluesy and New Orleans bound, as Calderazzo initially heads off to the Deep South; this complements the saxophonist’s ranging solo, which is never hidebound by the tempo. The title track offers a wistful mood that’s broken up by an unexpectedly surging, turbulent passage before the piece returns to less frothy waters.
The Windup seems headed towards the city of Branford’s birth (NO) before the pianist unveils a lengthy, tumbling solo that segues into freer territory and precedes some attacking, purposeful playing from all and sundry. Fittingly, that intensity finds its way into Solstice, a meandering, probing piece with Revis high up in the mix, before it exits on a Latinesque groove. This release should gladden the hearts of the majority of modernists.
Jon Balke: Skrifum (ECM Records 7506857)
Norwegian pianist Jon Balke is a veteran of many experimental projects and it’s no surprise that this latest album treads a similar path. He shares his acoustic keyboard with the Spektrafon, a piece of electronic wizardry that picks up harmonic waves from any sound source and projects them to a sound system. Effectively, this means Balke is dueting with himself.
Over 14 tracks we are treated to a lesson in minimalism, meat on the bones being virtually non-existent with an ambient feeling pervading the duration of the disc. Pre-listening, your reviewer had reservations about the Spektrafon taking over proceedings but this is not the case; the piano is the dominant feature, albeit in a very low-key fashion. There are certainly no displays of dazzling runs or virtuosic skill as the pianist seems more than happy to drift along in conjunction with the alternative wash offered up by the technology. Finally, it has to be said that most listeners would probably crave something more substantial from such an amalgamation.
Sonny Boy Williamson: Down And Out Blues (Blues Joint 8034)
This is a reissue of Sonny Boy Williamson’s debut album plus five bonus tracks, all serving to explain why he became such an influence on rock and blues bands during the early 1960s blues boom. All the material on the original 1959 Down And Out Blues – featuring Jimmy Rogers, Robert Lockwood Jr. and Otis Spann, not to mention the Dixon/Below axis – had already been released on Chess Records’ subsidiary label Checker.
On this latest incarnation, issued on 180gm vinyl, one notable difference, apart from the five bonus tracks, is that the cover does not feature the classic “down and out” character all blues followers will be familiar with. The substituted picture of Sonny Boy with harmonica in mouth is a good one though.
This is classic R&B all the way, excepting the pop-orientated Wake Up Baby. The voice is in commanding fettle and the harmonica work lays down a whole raft of phrases that would be picked up by countless imitators. From the opening Don’t Start Me To Talkin’, a romping introduction to Williamson’s forceful harmonica, to the final tune Stop Right Now, an example of stop-time used to great effect, we get plenty of variety. The slow-paced Cross My Heart is resplendent with sustained harp notes, The Key (To Your Door) revolves around a staccato beat, the wonderfully titled Fattening Frogs For Snakes demands that the listener pay attention to the lyrics and Help Me has a remarkable similarity to Green Onions, recorded in the same year of 1962. Whatever, this is an album that is a shoe-in for all serious blues collectors.
Curtis Stigers: Songs From My Kitchen (Pandemic Poodle Records PPR002)
Anybody who has caught Curtis Stigers live recently will have been treated to the expected mix of jazz, blues, country and an assortment of popular songs including his own string of hits. For this latest album, which came together as a result of the pandemic, we find him very much in country mode, performing a batch of self-penned songs and others by people he has long admired. In this latter category sit Patty Griffin’s Goodbye, John Fullbright’s Until You Were Gone and Bill Coffey’s Old Fashioned.
This is the singer and musician in contemplative and reflective mode; the lyrics are personally meaningful and suitably delivered in that instantly recognisable voice of his. That voice is to the forefront during all 11 tracks, his guitar and tenor saxophone contributions almost acting as incidental fills. There are a number of supporting musicians but they are clearly only there to give a bit of background colour. There is little here for committed jazzers but his band of loyal fans will surely lap this one up.
