Showing posts with label richard teitelbaum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label richard teitelbaum. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Andrew Cyrille Quartet, The Declaration of Musical Independence

Over the years Andrew Cyrille has proven himself as one of the premier avant jazz drummers in the music, an extraordinary creative force as soloist and band member--and band leader. For his latest, The Declaration of Musical Independence (ECM 2430), he assembles a band not entirely typical for him, but exceptional in its breadth and scope of musical expression.

Bill Frisell is here, a dynamo of electric guitar finesse and power; then there is Richard Teitelbaum, a pioneer of new jazz as a synthesizer proponent and a formidable pianist. Ben Street may not be as well known, but his double bass role on this album is exactly what is needed.

Andrew sounds as beautiful and as innovative as ever. Everything he does lays just right, whether it be as the open free time melder for the quartet or as a profound if all-too-brief soloist. This is about the group sound more than as a vehicle for him to show us his singular brilliance, but he nevertheless manages to give us a major statement on the drums as the music forges on with great presence.

There are originals by Frisell, Teitelbaum and Street. They give structure and purpose while allowing plenty of room for individual and group soloing of a high level. Then there are four-way free improvs that stand out for their special sonics and electricity.

It's a free and voltage-tapped music that gives everyone space and ambient direction of which they make ideal use. The result is startlingly unique and reminds us that the use of some electricity can still give us every bit of the open subtlety of an all-acoustic date.

I cannot recommend this one more strongly than I do here. This is one of the more profound avant jazz releases of the year. Hear it!

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Anthony Braxton, Trio and Duet, 1974

It's hard to believe now how much controversy surrounded the emergence of Anthony Braxton as an artist in his early days. I can remember a blindfold test where a prominent artist was played For Alto and the extraordinarily hostility that music evoked. And in the years following there were a fair number of detractors with bad things to say of his approach to traditional jazz repertoire, where he most certainly followed his own muse rather than what was considered necessary when playing on the changes. He approached the harmonic structures obliquely, sometimes seemingly disregarding them altogether. That was capital heresy then. Similarly his work in the realm of "new music" composition met with disapproval from a vocal contingency.

The album reissue up today, Braxton's Trio and Duet (Sackville-Delmark 3007) bring us to his work in 1974, when the controversy most certainly still reigned. It is again very available thanks to Delmark's Sackville reissues. When we listen with fresh ears now we realize that the musical daring of that mid-early period has largely been assimilated into the avant-mainstream today. Braxton has prevailed. That doesn't mean that there are not some out there who disapprove. But even late Coltrane still seems controversial to some.

For the contemporary new jazz-new music world, Braxton has won.

So nonetheless it is good to hear this mid-seventies release for all the young-lion exhilaration that it contains. Half of the album is devoted to the abstract trio piece that has all the markings of Anthony's more ambitious compositional adventures of the period. Braxton on reeds, a still-young Wadada Leo Smith on trumpet and Richard Teitelbaum on synthesizer go through the composed-improvised sectors of the composition and show us how seamless the two aspects had become. It is a beautiful work, beautifully performed. So much that came later was influenced by this chamber-avant approach that we forget how daring it was at the time.

The second half of the album is Braxton on alto and Dave Holland on bass running through a series of jazz standards. The reissue gives us two additional cuts for a good twenty minutes of more music. These explorations no longer seem shocking to us, partially because so many have followed in Braxton's path by bringing a personal way around changes that it seems as legitimate as it most certainly is. Holland sounds fantastic in the manner he then straddled cogent walking with an abstract solo style that was highly original and very noteful. Indeed, even Dave himself no longer sounds like this. Anthony is very much into his way with the tradition at the point of this recording and sounds uniquely himself, like no other, blistering and iconoclastic.

There have been so many Braxton albums that it is easy to neglect this one. Hearing it again after so many years it sounds better than ever to me. It is one to discover, to re-discover, and to appreciate. Braxton's artistry is well at a first-period peak and his colleagues sound beautiful, too. Grab this one for an excellent example of Braxton in 1974.