Sea Anna Serierse (vocals), Joshua Jaswon, Marc Doffey (saxophone), Miguel Gorodi (trumpet, flugelhorn), Jan Landowski (trombone), Johannes Mann (guitar), Sidney Werner (double bass), Aaron Castrillo (drums)
Ubuntu Music UBU 0065
Today’s jazz musicians seem to be more socially aware than their forebears, tackling injustice and other big issues through their work. Young London saxophonist Joshua Jaswon has created music on themes of the environment and Brexit after reading Silent Sea, a poetry collection collated by Jackie Kay, Scotland’s makar.
The prosaic title for the pieces that form the core of this album – ‘Reduce/Reuse/Recycle Suite’ – suggests a dispiriting listen. But the six movements and their variations make for a thrilling and provocative programme. ‘Silent Sea’, based on a poem by Rachel Boast, introduces singer Anna Serierse, whose soprano lines sheer across the Octet’s surging sound.
Segueing into ‘Extinction’, Serierse joins wailing brass soloists in giving voice to Kay’s angry rejection of populism and climate change denial. Serierse also starts the two-part ‘Still Life with Sea Pinks and High Tides’, reciting and reworking the opening stanza of Maura Dooley’s poem, preparing the ground for the brass section to pick up and expand the pulse of the tune. It’s a powerful soundtrack for desperate times.
Rob Barron (piano); Jeremy Brown (bass); Josh Morrison (drums)
The repertoire of most young/youngish jazz musicians these days consists almost exclusively of their own original compositions. This is entirely commendable, but I sometimes feel nostalgic for the days when certain well-established tunes and chord-sequences were a kind of lingua franca. This treasury of tunes was quarried by almost everybody and you could readily compare performances of the same piece whilst enjoying spotting the origins of litigation-dodging palimpsests of ‘I Got Rhythm’, ‘Cherokee’ or ‘Indiana’.
Barron joyfully plunders some of the greatest, most enduring tunes in the jazz and popular songbooks, from Oliver Nelson’s ‘Butch and Butch’ to Victor Young’s ‘My Foolish Heart’, modestly throwing in a couple of his own exemplary compositions (‘Fortune Green’ and ‘Evidently’) along the way. He plays with incisiveness, sinewy strength and grace, making imaginative use of the melodies and chords, and is well matched with Brown and Morrison. His CV stretches from here to way over there as a sideman and session musician with big names in the jazz and classical fields as well as appearing on film soundtracks – and this is classic piano trio jazz at its best.
Patrick Cornelius’s Acadia takes its name from an area in Maine, the inspiration for much of this music. On Way of the Cairns Cornelius celebrates the beauty, mystery and freedom of National Parks and other tracts of wildness in nine varied, highly-engaging compositions by him and (one each) drummer Paul Wiltgen and pianist Kristjan Randalu.
Cornelius says he wanted the band, rather than his tenor, to be the lead voice, and this has largely been achieved. The title track could almost be called, after Beethoven, ‘cheerful feelings on arriving in the countryside’. The album has an airiness and freshness all too desperately needed.
Riley Stone Lonergan (tenor saxophone), Eddie Myer (double bass), Spike Wells (drums)
The double bassist associated with respected indie strum-rockers Turin Brakes convenes a superb band featuring a veteran Britjazz drummer who doubles as a priest and an award-winning young tenor sax player. Hands up if you saw that coming.
Ornette Coleman’s mid-1960s trio with David Izenson and Charles Moffett inspired a whole sub-movement in which the absence of a traditional chordal instrument freed jazz from constraints that it was ready to outgrow, and created a rich and varied legacy that ranged from the prog-jazz of Back Door to the searing ferocity of Charles Gayle. Naming these names is to praise rather than to bury this animated unit that surely belongs in such company if this adrenaline-fuelled yet perfectly articulated one-take set is anything to go by. Ideally the bass could have been slightly further forward in the mix, but that’s forgiven; this music is wonderful stuff and failing to buy this album would be a terrible mistake.
Jakob Bro (guitar), Arve Henriksen (trumpet, piccolo trumpet), Jorge Rossy (drums)
ECM 6024 3528227 5
Danish guitarist Jakob Bro’s new recording is quintessential ECM: a small group of intensely talented individuals making rarefied music in the moment, captured by superb production values.
Bro, Henriksen and Rossy always excel in the improvising trio format, but this session in Swiss Radio’s studio in Lugano was the first time they had played together. Apart from having written the raw material, it’s not obvious that Bro is the leader. Norwegian Henriksen takes the melodic line throughout the programme while Bro brings the harmonic gravity; drummer Rossy is a constant, time shifting presence. Stand-out piece ‘To Stanko’ is a low lit, Latin-tinged eulogy to the late Polish trumpeter, Henriksen parsing his loss with a sound that’s at first breathy then fully formed. ‘Housework’ opens with a woody, velvet sound suggesting that Henriksen has switched to bass clarinet (he’s actually using a sax mouthpiece in his trumpet).
All three players were influenced by the late Paul Motian, the drummer with whom Bro honed his luminous technique. Their time is fluid and yet what they play is strongly connected; it’s abstract music that’s also deeply profound.
Porthole Music PM 01
Young jazz players often struggle to impose an identity on their music. Not so Matt Carmichael, the 21-year-old Scots tenorist whose debut album Where Will the River Flow immediately establishes him as an appealing and distinctive new voice in a crowded scene. The BBC Young Jazz Musician finalist can write too: the nine tunes here have a strong Celtic connection as well as a Scandinavian feel in places that contribute to the quartet’s bracing sound. ‘Firth’ surges gloriously and romantically along on Fergus McCreadie’s rippling piano riff, while there are enjoyably dangerous rapids for pianist and leader to navigate in ‘The Spey’, for example. Like Charles Lloyd and Abdullah Ibrahim, Carmichael’s got the gift of uplift in his music.
Avishai Cohen (voice, acoustic bass, electric bass, synthesizer), Mark Guiliana (drums), Elchin Shirinov (piano), Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra/Alexander Hanson
Naïve/believe M 7370
Anyone tempted to revisit the argument about what jazz is or isn’t should probably not start here. This album is a tour de force in which a set of ambitious orchestral pieces is leavened with a handful of poignant songs and standards, its eccentric programming being just one reason why the entire project should have been a catastrophic failure.
There’s plenty more to take issue with: the orchestration evokes Gershwin, Ellington, Tchaikovsky’s ballets and the film scores of Basil Poledouris (often all at once) and is overcooked in the way that has composition tutors reaching exasperatedly for their red pencils. The standards are schmaltzy and Cohen’s bland singing voice suggests he should stick to playing the bass.
Nevertheless, the whole vast apparatus somehow draws the listener in as if by its own gravitational field and absolutely works in spite of itself, infused as it is with the kind of imagination and propulsive conviction that can, on a good day, make for great jazz (or near-jazz).
Shez Raja (bass guitar)
The are also ways of adding to the scope of jazz without using large resources (see Two Roses above), as demonstrated by Shez Raja and associates on Tales from the Punjab, which sees this superb electric bassist drop down a few gears from his usual melodic groove-driven metafunk to explore his Punjabi roots alongside several musicians from the region. Raja deftly sidesteps the clichés of Indo-jazz, perfectly contextualising his lively contributions to this set of compositions and improvisations that variously feature voice, tabla, sarangi (possibly the only bowed string instrument in the world that requires the strings to be stopped by the player’s cuticles), the bansuri flute and even the cajon, the box drum with roots in Africa and South America. Vivid and highly engaging.
Maria Kannegard (piano)
Back in more conventional territory, two Norwegian pianists have released interesting trio discs in recent months. Maria Kannegard’s Sand i en vik – ‘Sand in a cove’, since I know you asked – also features bassist Ole Morten Vågan and drummer Thomas Strønen (noted for his work with the UK’s Iain Ballamy and much else) and is an appealing exposition in which a very funny three-stroke thrash at the piano’s innards (it lasts 57 seconds and gets its own pithy title) precedes a set of tight, pokey tunes driven along by inventive riffs and real-world quasi-loops. The overall result has an I-dare-you-to-stop- listening quality that is sustained throughout the set. Lovely stuff.