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Elliott Sharp + Sally Gates + Tashi Dorji
Ere Guitar
Intakt 418
In 2016, in the course of two days, guitarist Elliott Sharp recorded Err Guitar, on which he was joined by Mary Halvorson and Marc Ribot. They joined forces to create an album of astonishing beauty and boasting a remarkably broad array of sonic interactions. Six years later, on a single day in July, Sharp assembled another guitar trio but this time with Sally Gates and Tashi Dorji. While its title connotes a prequel of sorts, Ere Guitar is more like an updated manifesto, a more free-wheeling foray deep into the interstitial abstractions these three veteran musicians of disparate musical languages bring to every technologically enhanced gesture.
Throughout repeated auditions, I kept remembering Art Tatum. That supremely gifted pianist could also exhaust, a veritable fountain of ideas pouring forth at every twist and turn. Even the simplest shades of interaction, like the beautifully gliding and sliding cyclic repetitions opening “Surveying the Damage” worry, jostle, and besmirch each other before melding, and yet, the gradual combination eliminates all simplicity and facile comprehension. Overlapping tones converge and multiply until Gates, who Sharp informs me is usually in the left channel, engages in high-register dialogue with the rest. Those opening moments comprise a bit of an anomaly, as much of the music digs in its heels with pointillistic resolve. They can take initially languorous forms, as on Sharp’s “Drill Core,” one of only two Sharp compositions on offer her, or they can bustle about with gritty vengeance, as “Check Some” illustrates or as kicks off the proceedings in high gear on “Wildlife.” Sounds rasp, rattle, and ping-pong about the doubtlessly effect-augmented space, Dorji quietly meditative in the right channel and Sharp sliding, possibly bowing but certainly stretching the guitar’s possibilities centerstage.
Corresponding to the plethora of notes and knotty timbres present throughout, every emotion is on tap. Several pieces contain proverbial multitudes, like the rather astonishing “The Moment,” which moves from a percussive three-part invention toward something more fluid or “Drill Core,” the other Sharp composition, whose dynamic increase initial minor feel drives forward through a series of varied arcs whose undersides find Dorji sounding for all the world like a gong, a stunning timbral feat. The stand-out tracks are the ones that really dig into a sound, or a pitch range, and the exquisitely crafted “Unfinished Conversation” does both. Gates squeezes out the first pitch as from a tube of glue, a gesture from which all else follows. Sharp centerstage and Dorji off to the right serve as a sort of chorus commenting on each event, the amen corner to what begins as a sermon but increases to a collective improvisation centering around a series of pitches coalescing to form around a mode rather than inhabiting it. That precision of vagueness, the sparse unpredictability of events in distorted but languid unfolding, renders the track the luminously beautiful vignette it is. It’s all extremely clear, despite heavy reverb and a wide soundstage. The entire album is recorded like that, so that all is crystal-clear, whatever effects are in play. This trio update, part sequel and part innovation, is a genre-defying and challenging but certainly rewarding listening experience.
–Marc Medwin
Jason Stein + Marilyn Crispell + Damon Smith + Adam Shead
Spy-Raling Horn
Balance Point Acoustics bpaltd20020 and Irritable Mystic Records IMR003
As might happen with a couple together for half a century, Marilyn Crispell completes Jason Stein’s phrase 1:30 into “A Song Paid by Singing,” the first piece on Spy-raling Horn, the new quartet album also featuring Damon Smith and Adam Shead. The moment is indicative. Not only has the exchange been expertly prepared by Stein, but there is a certain irony in that Crispell is the new voice in this well-established trio. The concerts that happened in tandem with this 2023 studio session went a long way to ensure the complete communication evident throughout.
Each member of the group is what might be called a melodically free improviser. Yes, such distinctions are as subjective as they come, but I mean melodic in the Romantic sense, a vocabulary formed of largely conjunct intervals in the free and facile flight of pantonality. It is Smith who supplements the afore-mentioned phrase with a melodic flourish, just as he responds to the sultry melody with which Stein opens “So Close it Cut My Ribs,” with his own motivically unified answer, first pizzicato and then in beautiful arco as Crispell and Shead ornament and perfume with widely spaced chord and crystalline timbres. Even Shead’s approach is melodic, or at least motivic in a developmental sense. Dig his trickily whimsical high-hat work on “Back and Back Out” or very similar ideas expanded and extended to encompass more of the kit on “A Rusted Bell’s Klang.” In this, he resembles Max Roach or Ginger Baker. All of this leads to glorious states of contrapuntally interactive exploration, like the Stein and Shead duet kicking off “A Universe of Otherwise”’s rapid-fire dialogics, in which Smith then joins, his running lines and jumps bolstering Crispell’s alternately horizontal and vertical dyads. Despite the polyphonic preponderance, there are many moments of stasis, a kind of sonic stillness just close enough to silence to engender the same effect. “Saturant Moon Water” could not boast a more apt and aptly engaging title as it liquifies it’s AMM-adjacent way into existence. All sounds mellow and merge, mellifluously attuned in quiet cosmic celebration. Whatever the instrument Crispell is using, it’s either a beautiful specimen, perfectly recorded or both, so gentle but full are the sinewy-soft sounds she coaxes from it over brush, metal, pitched wind and bowed wire. Stein’s complement of toned texture is subtly astonishing, and is that Smith or Shead who takes the track toward its resolute non-resolution?
Like Nathaniel Macky’s poetic liner notes, the music moves in recognizable areas of quasi-repetition as a motive is presented, enlarged, or diminuted, each player augmenting or curtailing rhythmic activity with the spectacular ease of conversing or storytelling. Like the music, Mackey’s varied lines tell a story of aggregate and travel in aphorisms, the various scenes associated, directly or otherwise, within time or without, exercises in spontaneous narrative constructed around fixed elements. Crispell was an inspired collaborative choice. She brings to the trio’s ever-evolving communication an understated wisdom, the wisdom of experience informing each gesture and pause. However, when the quartet wants to let loose, as it does on the album’s concluding piece, the raw power and energy flow with speed and agility, as they always have. Music and poetry add up to a superb experience, and it’s only to be hoped that if recorded, the concerts will also see the light of day.
–Marc Medwin
Luke Stewart’s Silt Trio
Unknown Rivers
Pi Recordings PI101
Unknown Rivers is bassist Luke Stewart’s first release on Pi Recordings. Stewart has been omnipresent in the creative music scene over the past decade as a leader and/or co-leader of such bands as Irreversible Entanglements, Heroes are Gang Leaders, Heart of the Ghost, Blacks’ Myths, Exposure Quintet, and Silt Trio. He is also an in-demand sideman, having performed with luminaries like David Murray, Nicole Mitchell, and James Brandon Lewis, in addition to curating concerts in Washington D.C. and New York while working as a writer, activist, producer, and D.J. – a true renaissance man.
Unknown Rivers features his long-running Silt Trio, with Brian Settles on tenor saxophone, and drummers Warren “Trae” Crudup III (on four studio tracks) and Chad Taylor (on three live cuts). The band’s name is inspired by Stewart’s upbringing along Mississippi’s Gulf Coast and serves as a metaphor for the current of ideas that filter through costal rivers’ rich sediment. In contrast to the trio’s two previous releases, No Treaspassing (self-released in 2020, with Crudup) and The Bottom (issued by Cuneiform in 2022, with Taylor), this effort finds the band moving away from open improvisation towards compositional forms with a greater emphasis on rhythm.
Stewart features both versions of the trio on the album to highlight the different approaches of the two drummers. Taylor is a bandleader and one of today’s most in-demand musicians, originally establishing his reputation in Chicago co-leading the Chicago Underground with Rob Mazurek. D.C.-based Crudup, who performs in Blacks’ Myths with Stewart, draws on his experiences playing gospel and go-go, in addition to jazz with James Brandon Lewis and Heroes are Gang Leaders. Settles, a stalwart of the Washington D.C. jazz scene, plays tenor with a quiet intensity in numerous groups, in addition to being a bandleader in his own right. Stewart is a master of the groove whose fluid sense of melodicism and sinewy ostinatos adapt instantly to his partners’ rhythmic maneuverings.
The angular “Seek Whence” opens the studio session with Stewart’s robust bass driving Settles into quietly coiling cadences over a percolating rhythm. Stewart then leads the trio into “Baba Doo Way,” establishing a vamp for Settles’ devotional tenor as Crudup’s dense polyrhythms, together with Stewart’s drive, lend a harder edge, eventually accelerating into a swinging walk. “You See?” initially explores more contemplative territory with Settles alternating short and sustained bursts, but proves to be a feature for Crudup, who inspires the saxophonist’s impassioned finale. On “The Slip,” Settles delivers a sensitive statement that gradually builds into a more aggressive stance, before surrendering to Stewart’s deep groove.
The energetic live set finds Taylor bringing out a more visceral aspect of Settles’ playing, noticeable immediately on “Amilcar.” Stewart joins Taylor in an Afro-centric rhythm, launching Settles into a series of floating lines, brisk fragments, and fervent motifs. This vigorous discourse segues directly into “Dudu,” as Stewart and Taylor develop an intriguing bass-drum pattern for Settles’ long, sustained peals to settle into a breathy demeanor as the rhythm ebbs and flows. Taylor raises the temperature, and conversations grow more heated as Stewart stokes the fire, segueing into the closing title track, which keeps things at a full boil, with a hypnotic ostinato from Stewart that fuels some of Settles’ most unrestrained blowing of the set.
Playing with a shared reverence for spiritual music rooted in African rhythms, Stewart’s Silt Trio is a focused unit, by turns nuanced and explosive. Unknown Rivers conjures a collective conversational synergy in flux, underscoring Stewart’s reputation as one of today’s most dynamic bandleaders.
–Troy Collins
Jack Walrath
Live At Smalls
Cellar Music CMSLF008
Renowned trumpeter Jack Walrath joins fellow legends as a member of the SmallsLive Living Masters Series with Live At Smalls. Like every artist in the series, Walrath boasts an impressive resume, having worked with numerous icons, including Ray Charles, Charles Mingus, Miles Davis, Quincy Jones, and Muhal Richard Abrams. Over the course of more than 30 albums as a leader, Walrath has established a reputation for the kind of swinging post-bop that has its roots in a place like Smalls. This intimate live recording features a quintet that Walrath has been leading since 2012, with Abraham Burton on tenor saxophone, George Burton on piano, Boris Kozlov on bass, and Donald Edwards on drums. Reveling in their seasoned rapport, this release documents the exceptional interplay of Walrath’s longstanding ensemble.
The six pieces featured here offer a sampling from across Walrath’s five-decade career. Walrath’s diverse influences recall previous collaborations, especially with Mingus – a mix of the traditional and modern, ranging from experimental blues forms to African rhythms. The bandleader gives his musicians ample room to explore, yet Walrath, with an arranger’s ear, plays only what serves the composition, and his bandmates follow suit. As with most Smalls sessions, the group is exceptional; under-sung tenor saxophonist Burton is a perfect foil for Walrath’s robust trumpet stylings, and the rhythm section cooks.
The set kicks off with the fiery “Roadkill,” a hard swinging tune that features stellar solos from all members of the group, setting the tone for the date. Tracks like “A Bite in Tunisia” and “Grandpa Moses” demonstrate the band’s ability to explore innovative concepts within a traditional framework. The former takes its inspiration from the famous Dizzy Gillespie tune, juxtaposing Afro-Cuban rhythms with contemporary jazz harmony, without ever invoking the original melody. George Burton’s piano solo reveals an eclectic approach, building from his rigorous classical training to bop, post-bop, and avant-garde flourishes.
The shifting tempos and dynamics of “Grandpa Moses” recall Walrath’s days with Mingus; comfortable working in shifting tempos, forms, and contexts, the band’s boppish vocabulary is rooted in an awareness of older forms. The episodic “Left Turn on 86th Street” similarly offers a complete view of these players’ virtuosity, including drummer Edwards and George Burton, who contributes memorable piano variations that invoke a range of stylistic antecedents.
The atmospheric ambience and wistful melody of “Mood For Muhal” pays homage to Walrath’s stint in The Muhal Richard Abrams Orchestra. George Burton’s melancholy musings build dramatically, encouraging one of Walrath’s most inspired solos of the set, a masterclass in thematic improvisation. Abraham Burton subsequently delivers a passionate improvisation before the quintet modulates down behind George Burton’s light chords and Kozlov’s robust bass.
The album’s closer, “Sacrifice,” ups the tempo, beginning with a vibrant drum solo that leads into an angular, heated excursion from Abraham Burton with background figures from Walrath and stellar comping from George Burton. The band eases back, allowing Walrath to build his lines gradually, with Burton’s far-ranging piano inspiring the trumpeter, who leads the horns into a melodious coda – a fitting end to an album celebrating Walrath’s singular artistry.
Like other Living Masters Series artists, the underrecognized Walrath still plays with vim and vigor. Celebrating his original compositions, Live At Smalls confirms Walrath’s stature as a notable arranger, composer, and improviser. At 77 years old, the bandleader suggests that playing this music “keeps you alive” and says, “I will go kicking and screaming and still searching for the lost chord!” Amen.
–Troy Collins
WHO Trio
Live at Jazz Festival Willisau 2023 - First Visit Live
ezz-thetics 102
This marvelous trio have been working together for north of a quarter century now, and their high-wire inside/out sound remains a delight. It’s fitting, then, that they should dedicate this set to reimaginations of Ellington. They’re largely improvised, and clearly the trio’s long-standing immersion in various expressions of jazz has lodged these tunes deep in their sub-conscious. This is no museum-piece set, but a bracing document of one superb group’s evolution and a confirmation of how radical and transformative “standards” really can be.
A wafting, abstract “Mood Indigo” opens the set gorgeously. These old friends are so marvelously attuned to nuance and detail, each one gifted and generous and imaginative. The music glides along on swells and intensities, but it’s also quite percussive in places, akin to the kind of playing you might hear from, say, Nik Bartsch or The Necks. But oh, when the themes emerge in time! There’s a lushness, sensitivity, and absolute affection for the sources that is, to my ears, irresistible. The swing is vigorous as they glide into “The Mooche,” Oester pushing hard and Hemingway uncorking his vocals for the first time (I’m a big fan). It’s been a while since I’ve heard a group audibly having this much damn fun, even if there are moments of sorrow and introspection (as on the improvisation leading into the scarcely performed “Birmingham Breakdown”).
Their long experience shows in some of the gnarlier passages, when it sounds like things are just about to break and then a buoyant theme emerges, swinging like crazy. There’s a sizzling “Wig Wise,” a graceful “Angelica,” and a stunning moment that leads into “Fleurette Africaine”: a recording of Ellington talking about “freedom of expression.” Whether it’s spiky preparations and jagged improve, or gorgeous lyricism, the groups just plays and plays, in both senses, a seamless hour that makes you wish you were there. An outrageously good record, surely among the year’s finest.
–Jason Bivins