Avishai Cohen - Into the Silence (ECM, 2016)
Trumpeter Avishai Cohen’s star has been rocketing lately. Sure, he has long been a presence on the jazz scene thanks to clutch positions in the SFJazz Collective, a family band with siblings Anat and Yuval, and the international collective Third World Love. But over the last couple of years, the Tel Aviv native has garnered a whole new set of (welldeserved) accolades for a pair of excellent trio albums and a collaboration with saxophonist, Mark Turner.
All of this seems to have set the stage for his highestprofile release yet, an album of all originals on ECM Records (out Feb. 12). On paper, Cohen does not seem like a natural fit for ECM; he has historically put his powerful, swinginflected playing to use on groove-based tunes with sharp melodies—not quite typical for the placid German label. Yet surprisingly, Into the Silence fits the ECM mold much more than expected: it is a collection of ethereal ballads dedicated to the memory of Cohen’s late father and inspired by composers like Brahms and Rachmaninoff.
While the result is often beautiful, Cohen’s epic compositions can feel lacking in structure at times. His melodies tend to drift over the rhythm section’s icy textures, not developing themes so much as slowly conjuring moods. Cohen’s improvising is also more measured than it has been before, exploring the delicate side of his instrument’s high range. But as a composer, his vision does not place the trumpet as the music’s sole focal point. On the centerpiece of the album, a 15-minute suite called “Dream Like a Child,” Cohen drops out for long stretches of time, leaving his ace rhythm section—pianist Yonathan Avishai, bassist Eric Revis and drummer Nasheet Waits—to meditate on a romantic melody. The inventive saxophonist Bill McHenry also drops in on a couple tracks. The entire band remains superbly understated throughout the album, and while the music’s meandering nature might demand several listens to be fully digested, every moment of Into the Silence is handcrafted and worthy of attention.
Michael Formanek Ensemble Kolossus - The Distance (ECM, 2016)
“Ensemble Kolossus” is just a fancy way of saying “big band,” though bassist Michael Formanek’s new large ensemble does its best to justify the grandiose name. The bassist/ composer, perhaps best known for his collaborations with avant-garde saxophonist Tim Berne, prefers to use his ensemble as a unified force, delivering walls of sound as nuanced in texture as they are viscerally powerful. The opening cut, “The Distance,” is an example of such nuance, with thick, hushed chords backed by soft brushstrokes from drummer Tomas Fujiwara. The drum pattern and triplet-based saxophone melody imply a lazy sort of swing without slipping into a full-fledged groove, providing a malleable texture for soloists to sit on.
Most of the album is taken up by the eight-part “Exoskeleton” suite, a magnificent opus that takes fragments of jazz history and dices them up in a blender, arranging them at odd angles. Dense, looped ensemble passages create a strange sort of minimalism in the movements. This is particularly effective in Movement One of the suite, in which the entire band hammers away at dissonant melodic idea before giving way to soloists. And what soloists: it seems as though every avant-leaning musician in New York is on this record—or at least as many as Formanek could fit into a big band. Standouts include saxophonist Chris Speed, trumpeters Ralph Alessi and Kirk Knuffke, trombonists Ben Gerstein and Alan Ferber, pianist Kris Davis, and guitarist Mary Halvorson, who offers a wonderfully trippy, pedal-assisted solo on Parts Four and Five of the suite. And this is barely scratching the surface of the electrifying roster (Tim Berne and the trumpeter Shane Endsley from the band Kneebody are also present, for instance).
Yet as hypnotic and otherworldly as Formanek’s compositions can be, the bassist does not shy away from jazz idioms. You are not going to find a traditional shout chorus on the record, but Elvin Jones-style swing is not out of the question, and the dense arrangements verge on the Mingusesque at times. Ensemble Kolossus is a big band, though Formanek’s done his best to obscure that fact.
Ches Smith - The Bell (ECM, 2016)
Drummer Ches Smith belongs to a generation of freejazz musicians who see genre more as a set of opportunities than restrictions. Smith, who also doubles on vibraphone and other percussion instruments, has worked throughout the free-jazz world with Tim Berne, Mary Halvorson and the like, but he has also collaborated extensively with the dark indie-rock act Xiu Xiu. On this release, his first with this unique ensemble, Smith sticks mostly in the former camp, though there is the sense that limits, for this trio, do not exist. It helps that he has a flexible band of improvisers to assist him. Pianist, Craig Taborn is probably the best known of the trio, though each member lifts equal weight in the performance. If anything, violist Matt Maneri is the most prominent voice, adding burnished melody on top of the fractured textures created by the other musicians.
The album opens on a literal note, with the chiming of a bell to kick off the title track. The players begin sparsely, with muted notes from Taborn punctuated by sharp chords from Smith’s vibraphone. Each musician seems to be testing the others out: Maneri’s melodic lines rub ever so gently against Taborn’s ostinati, while Smith’s punctuations cause ripples in the other musicians’ flowing texture. It is a delicate opening, but the album does not stay in this constrained space. The nine-and-a-half-minute “I Think,” for instance, opens with the three players in off-kilter, out-of-time counterpoint, chasing each other with spacious bits of melody. As the track progresses, however, the interjections begin to overlap, until Taborn ushers in a rhythmic bassline in his left hand. At the climax of the track, a high point of the album, Smith approximates a rock beat on the drums while Maneri pairs dissonant melody with occasional squealing high notes. At the track’s end, Smith strikes what sounds like a timpani repeatedly, just another unexpected move on this no-holdsbarred set.
Dave Scott - Brooklyn Aura (SteepleChase, 2016)
Trumpeter Dave Scott has been active for decades and based in several cities, and he pays tribute to his current home on this new release. A collection of original compositions, it serves as an engrossing showcase for both Scott’s veteran expertise and his still-present desire for exploration. Featuring a cast of New York heavyweights, this album channels the spirit of the 60’s avant-garde in a fresh way. The opener, simply titled “Prologue,” features a Love Supreme-style drone and an incantation-like melody, while the 12-minute “Non- Adherence” features an ostinato that would sound at home on Eric Dolphy’s Out To Lunch. Scott and saxophonist Rich Perry blend seamlessly together, making their moments of dissonance cut extra deep. When he steps to the foreground, Scott manages to remain both impressive and restrained; he possesses a husky tone and favors the chromaticism of 60’sera Miles Davis, but never shows off more than is required.
On the aptly named “Eccentricities,” his lines erupt one after another as streams of precisely articulated thought. Perry’s improvising, with off-kilter blues motifs as well as fiery runs, is a welcome foil for Scott, and the two solo together generously, without getting in each other’s ways. Scott’s compositions often last past the 10-minute mark, though little is actually scripted. It is a testament to the players, then, that the music is consistently enthralling. Bassist, John Hebert steals the show in particular, offering just the right grounding to the often freewheeling proceedings. Pianist Jacob Sacks and drummer Satoshi Takeishi are also fine craftsmen who are particularly adept at coloring the more chaotic moments on the record. Those moments are many, but this disc is actually quite accessible; even the free jazz-phobic have plenty to enjoy—or at least admire—here.
Ike Sturm and Evergreen - Shelter of Trees (Kilde Records, 2016)
Bassist, Ike Sturm serves as music director for the Jazz Ministry at Saint Peter’s Church in Manhattan, meaning that he is responsible for soundtracking services with jazz hymns and incidental music. His faith is often carried over into his own music, and Shelter of Trees is no exception. The thought of faith-based modern jazz might trigger a bad taste in the mouths of those familiar with Christian rock radio, but religion has been tied to jazz for decades. Coltrane’s monumental A Love Supreme was steeped in prayers to God, for instance, and a recent recording of hymns by Dave Douglas was one of his most successful releases. Sturm’s project is more overtly religious than those other touchstones, though it also commemorates the bassist’s late father, composer and teacher Fred Sturm. While the album’s exultant mood might come off as saccharine to some, the album is full of strong playing from all involved.
Sturm was born in Wisconsin, and his music possesses a plainspokenness that is common among midwestern jazz composers. His billowy melodies float like songs, and some of the pieces are, in fact, aided by vocals from Melissa Stylianou, Chanda Rule, and the bassist’s wife, Misty Ann Sturm. It also helps that he has an accomplished band of in51 ventive young player, including pianist, Fabian Almazan and saxophonist, Loren Stillman. Almazan has come into his own as both a player and composer in recent years, and here he brings a composer’s poise to the proceedings, blending his chords with vibraphonist Chris Dingman’s resonant tones. The title track epitomizes the experience of listening to the album: with a lone voice singing a wordless melody, the tune crawls slowly toward sappiness, but as more layers enter and the track culminates in a whirlwind of chords and vocal harmony, the payoff is rich.
Nautabot - Nautabot (Self-released, 2016)
The spirit of the so-called “indie jazz” movement is strong with this Arizona-based sextet. Though they differ from many such groups instrumentation-wise (the twodrummer thing is a particularly fun touch), their minimalist, groove-based mentality places them in line with bands like buzzed-about Blue Note signees GoGo Penguin and the jazzrockers of Kneebody. Placing Nautabot into a category might seem like a blow against the band’s originality, but be advised that this is not the case. The youthful spirit of “indie jazz” is good for the music, and Nautabot is doing its part.
The album begins with the mellow backbeat of “Tumbleweed,” a tune whose melody oozes attitude. Keyboardist, Alexey Izotov exercises remarkable restraint in his solo, firing off a carefully paced string of eighth notes and only building in intensity when leading into a simmering statement from Alex Oliverio’s overdriven guitar. Each track on the album possesses a unique groove, from the uptempo rumble of “Expectations” to the start-and-stop hip-hop of “Cantapillar,” and while the melodies are pleasantly tricky, the true pleasures of the album come from hearing the band play over its feel-good vamps. Vibraphonist Matt Williams is the most ear-catching improviser on the record, sometimes hammering the vibraphone so hard it distorts (or is that an effect?). The sum total is wholly likeable, though it is a shame the band did not do more with its two drummers, Micah Hummel and Jordan Tompkins. It is difficult to keep that particular combination from mere redundancy, but here the drummers seem so in sync that it is hard to tell there is more than one.
Bill Stewart - Space Squid (Pirouet Records, 2016)
Bill Stewart is a perennial sideman who manages to always sound both traditional and wholly original. His latest recording as a leader, a mostly all-originals set featuring some of his frequent collaborators, is no exception. Stewart’s playing is both refined and hard-swinging, with roots in both Max Roach and Billy Higgins, and with a whopping eleven tunes on this album, he gets to show off a bit of all his sides. Indeed, the repertoire falls all over the jazz continuum: “Paris Lope” is a slow, sultry swinger disguised as something more ethereal, while “End of Earth” is an appropriately ominous dip into something close to free-jazz. Other highlights include “Septemberism,” which couples a gospel feel with dark dissonance, and “Happy Walk,” a strutting boogaloo. An album this lengthy with slightly less rhythmic diversity might come off as monotonous, but Stewart keeps the pace brisk and avoids stagnation. Indeed, Stewart is a drummer-composer who truly seems in control of the music, with a whole swatch of colors at his disposal. On the medium-tempo “If Anyone Asks You,” for instance, Stewart dusts the music gently with swinging brushstrokes and then later dances nimbly on the ride cymbal. When saxophonist Seamus Blake’s lines begin to really unfurl, Stewart switches to the drums, cradling the solo in a gentle clatter. He is given ample support by the always flexible bassist Ben Street and the deft touch of pianist Bill Carothers. All these players are gifted with phenomenal chops, but what truly makes this set is the spirit of the thing rather than the execution. Nothing is tossed off, nor is anything taken too seriously. It is a happy medium that befits a straight-ahead jazz album in the year 2016.
Great On Paper - Great On Paper (Endectomorph Music, 2016)
A quick disclaimer: I’ve played frequently with Kevin Sun, a saxophonist and jazz blogger based in New York and Boston. Singing his praises, then, is therefore not the most ethically sound thing for me to do. But Great On Paper, Sun’s primary outlet as a composer, is a band that simply demands attention. In addition to Sun, the band features fellow New England Conservatory graduates Isaac Wilson on piano, Simón Willson on bass, and Robin Baytas on drums. If you are familiar with that hallowed Boston institution, the music on Great On Paper will come as no surprise. It i heavily influenced by the sound of ECM records, starting with its first track, “Winnings.” The melody is built from a simple threenote phrase drifting over a fast-walking rhythm section, with Sun’s meaty solo contrasting the laser-like attack of Wilson’s piano work. The group also covers the Messiaen chorale “O Sacrum Convivium,” electing to simply play the piece down rather than deconstruct it too heavily. Willson’s offering, the appropriately named “Slimy Toboggan,” pulls a bait-andswitch: it presents itself as a slithery swing number before disintegrating into sparse free improvisation. There are also more straightforward forays, ranging from Wilson’s straighteighths epic “Torsion” to “Negative Bird,” a Steve Colemanesque take on a classic Charlie Parker blues form. There’s also a loose take on the standard “I Hear A Rhapsody” to cap things off. The repertoire in total is a grab bag of approaches, sometimes seeming to coalesce around a particular sound before veering into another style entirely on the next track. This befits a first-time record from this group of tasteful improvisers, all eager to demonstrate their abilities. They certainly play together like a band, and record number two should only serve to cement that fact further.
Charles Lloyd and the Marvels - I Long To See You (Blue Note Records - 2016)
Veteran saxophone searcher, Charles Lloyd starts his new album off on a bold note, plunging headfirst into a bluesy cover of Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War.” Yes, it is safe to say that the 77-year-old saxophonist, leader of several acoustic quartets over the last few years, is trying something new. And the repertoire isn’t even the most crucial evidence. Lloyd’s regular bassist, Reuben Rogers has traded in his upright bass for an electric. Guitarist, Bill Frisell has joined the band, augmented with pedals galore. Pedal steel guitarist, Greg Leisz is perhaps the most glaring addition, adding an extra layer of electric grit to the music. Ladies and gentlemen, The Marvels.
Lloyd has been unfairly knocked for channeling John Coltrane a bit too heavily, particularly on his more meditative releases. In the company of this new band, though, the saxophonist seems far away from his greatest influence. If anything, I Long To See You sounds most similar to one of Bill Frisell’s more country-influenced projects, but Lloyd’s playful improvisation serves as an excellent counterpoint to Frisell’s rhythmic sparseness. The upbeat “Of Course, Of Course,” for example, finds Lloyd on the flute, bouncing over a lightly swinging rock feel while Frisell conjures strange colors.
The most talked-about moment on the album is the country ballad “Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream,” which brings in Willie Nelson for a turn as guest vocalist. News of the collaboration was received as an oddity, but in practice, Nelson’s husky drawl feels perfectly at home with the band’s beautifully twangy sound. In fact, it is a wonder they did not get Willie to sing on the whole album. They did, however, bring in Norah Jones for another ballad, “You Are So Beautiful.” This collaboration feels slightly more forced, if only because Jones’s alto is the smoothest sound on the record, but it’s still a wondrous thing to hear Lloyd and Jones trading off on a sturdy melody, devoid of frills and full of intent.
Jon Davis - Changes Over Time (Posi-Tone, 2016)
Is there still room for classic, medium-tempo, feelgood jazz? Pianist Jon Davis makes a decent case on this trio release, backed by solid straight-ahead veterans Ugonna Okegwo and Jochen Rueckert on bass and drums, respectively. The album is front-loaded with standards, as if to make the case that, “yes, there is still life in these old songs.”
The joyful vibe of the “Soul Eyes” that starts the proceedings certainly helps Davis’s case; while the 7/4 is a bit superfluous, the gentle groove and Davis’s left hand lines keep things interesting. Other covers on the album are more contemporary, including takes on the Beatles (“Yesterday”) and Stevie Wonder (“My Cherie Amour”). The former is particularly beautiful, a showcase for Davis’s melodicism and knack for reharmonization. Davis’s originals are slightly less inventive, though they satisfy by fitting into the 1960s Blue Note mold. Obvious touchstones for this release would be Ahmad Jamal and Bill Evans, for their harmonic depth and mellow touch, as well as the orderly stylings of Vince Guaraldi, a man mostly known for novelty music but underrated in his own right. Davis knows what satisfies about straight-ahead jazz, and he taps right into it.