Wrong Is Right
Noisy Minority
Intakt Records CD 262

NYC Five
Angelika Niescier; Florian Weber
Intakt Records CD 263

In Motion
Richard Poole; Marilyn Crispell; Gary Peacock
Intakt Records CD 264

08a Intakt NoisyAt the very end of music’s spectrum, almost like planetary rumblings from outside the Milky Way, free improvisations imbue today’s music with a glorious sheen. Instrumental movements that one is accustomed to hearing are turned on their head enabling us to hear, with unabashed fascination, the explosive whimsy captured by some of the finest musicians alive today. Taking a leaf from Berg and Webern, Stravinsky and Stockhausen as much as from Anthony Braxton and Muhal Richard Abrams, Roscoe Mitchell and Lester Bowie, musicians – some who have been playing pretty conventional swing – have been blazing new trails, birthing, in every sense, a new avant-garde. This trend in Europe is vastly different from the one in America, which is rooted as much in the blues as it is in the music of Europe. Across the pond the “New Thing” dives daringly into triumphantly free improvisation that is almost completely bereft of the blues, although it might sometimes dig into jazz for idiomatic inspiration. Here are three wonderful discs from the Swiss label Intakt (intaktrec.ch) that exemplify everything that is bold and beautiful about European free improvisation.

Wrong Is Right is a performance that provides a burst of acclamation with loud triumphant chords fittingly made by musicians who are the epitome of the triumph of musicianship. Saxophonist Omri Ziegele is also a voice artist and leads the power quartet that includes one of the finest trombonists in the business. Ray Anderson has been celebrated for his brilliant tone colours and impeccable use of timbre, all embodied in the highest form of artistry. The repertoire on this disc has music that is arranged in a suite-like manner. Everything – especially the brilliant Decimal System and Wrong Is Right – celebrates the unexplored nooks and crannies of the instruments’ vast repertoire.

08b Intakt NYCNYC Five is a beautifully constructed album of songs by one of the most extroverted saxophonists in Europe. Angelika Niescier might not be a name many are familiar with but the Cologne-based alto saxophonist inhabits many worlds seemingly at once. The music that is improvised is strikingly majestic and the written work – especially the ballad, Invaded – is likely to tear your heart out for its deep emotion and exquisite showers of notes by the pianist Florian Weber. The ubiquitous American drummer Tyshawn Sorey makes an electrifying appearance wherever he goes and this record is no exception. Watch out for the lightness and bounce of Ralph Alessi’s trumpet – the other American of repute on the album.

08c Intakt Crispell“Cats with nine lives” is how tempting it is to describe pianist Marilyn Crispell, drummer Richard Poole and most definitely the monumental bassist, Gary Peacock, on In Motion. These leading exponents of their instruments almost intuitively bring dramatic, fresh tones and textures to notes and chords that you have heard hundreds of times before. The almost vocal styles of Crispell and Peacock have endeared them to generations of free-thinking musicians and here they show why. Their explosive whimsy is captured on Backseat of the Galaxy, In Motion and Isle of Nowhere. The rest of the repertoire is no less wondrous and is full of joyous evocation and revels in the über-virtuosity of all three musicians whose brilliance has no limits.

06 GumpertA New One
Ulrich Gumpert Quartet
Intakt Records 257 (intaktrec.ch)

East Germany’s most prominent jazz composer/pianist, Ulrich Gumpert, 70, shows that he has lost none of his Teutonic-Thelonious acuity in the quarter century since the destruction of the Berlin Wall. With band members several years his junior, including Germans, bassist Jan Roder and drummer Michael Griener, plus Swiss saxophonist Jürg Wickihalder, the quartet moves through 11 mostly Gumpert-composed tunes that could equally impress in a West Berlin club with aficionados familiar with the sounds of Monk and bop, as well as an East Berlin theatre audience more attuned to Socialist Realist anthems and folkloric marches.

One instance of this is Iffie, initially a balladic theme the pianist developed years ago for a performance with a poet, resolved with a snorting Wickihalder solo into 100 percent contemporary jazz. Recitativo Secco, is a plaintive Germanic recitation for full band that too is transformed into a jokey promenade with cymbal sizzles and reed smears. There’s also the Griener-composed Süshotz, a simple rustic tune that balances Mozartian rococo with a charming alto saxophone lead. With Wickihalder playing tenor saxophone, Number Nine and the give-away titled The Bop & The Hard Be are more overtly Monkish, with the pianist replicating Monk’s hesitant yet spiky chording on the second, as Roder walks and the saxophonist channels Johnny Griffin’s bite and speed. Expanding and contracting time as it develops, Number Nine shuffles as much as it swings with Gumpert introducing ragtime and boogie-woogie motifs that lock in with Wickihalder reed outbursts that are as hard and thick as titanium.

Like a pseudo-military march the penultimate Scrollin’ is driven by a tough drum solo, moderated by elegant string reverberations from Roder, ending in a formation that finds each musician hopscotching and circling around the others as he solos. Confirming that sardonic humour wasn’t stifled in the German Democratic Republic (GDR), the CD ends with a 55-second reprise of Iffie called Iffie’s Saloon, with appropriate barroom-like plinking from Gumpert and nasal soprano saxophone passages from Wickihalder. In spite of its misdeeds, the GDR allowed talents like Gumpert to flourish; luckily A New One gives us in the West a new way to experience it.

07 NecksVertigo
The Necks
Northern Spy Records NS 067 (northernspyrecords.com)

Members of the Australian trio, The Necks, habitually construct mesmerizing CDs consisting of one extended improvisation. As committed to their musical vision as ensembles such as the Beaux Arts or the Lyric Arts trios were to theirs, after three decades as a band, pianist/keyboardist Chris Abrahams, bassist Lloyd Swanton and percussionist Tony Buck can still alter the overall interpretation in such a way that it becomes like an aural kaleidoscope offering novel facets on each playing.

Unlike earlier creations which relied on Swanton’s unvarying plucked tone to buoy the improvisation, with Vertigo it is Abrahams who sets the pace. After an initial piano showcase that finds him channeling David Tudor-like minimalism and Professor Longhair-like exuberance, he bares the connective theme, variations of which resonate throughout the 44-minute program. Exploring the acoustic piano’s low-frequency continuum plus internal strings at points, he concurrently coaxes rasping timbres from electronic keyboards that seem to emanate from a revved-up harpsichord or replicate billowing pipe-organ-like quivers. Or does he? Because one of the attainments of The Necks is that generally a sound can’t be ascribed to a specific instrument. Certainly temple bell-like clatters, metal rim-like clunks and remote resolute thumps come from Buck’s kit; while winsome stops, twang and infrequent connective drones arise from Swanton’s instrument. But what is the genesis of the whip-like snaps that echo throughout the piece, as well as the vibrations audible from what could be steam-whistle blasts or vocal chorale-like bellowing?

Ultimately it doesn’t matter. Like a dwelling built on a flood plain which gradually becomes waterlogged as the sea level rises, the strength of this sonic mosaic is how easily the sounds blend into a multiphonic mosaic. Vertigo won’t cause you to lose your balance except in a positive way, as you’re knocked out by the many-sided skills that went into producing this session.

Preserving Rediscovered Free Music Classics

Fully grasping the intricacies of musical history often depends on the availability of recorded documents. That’s why many musical histories are re-evaluated once hitherto little known performances become accessible. This is especially crucial when it comes to completely or mostly improvised sounds. Reissued and/or rediscovered sessions, which preserve ephemeral moments, confirm the music’s wide dissemination. More importantly they add the equivalent of additional sentences that provide a fuller understanding of the free music story.

01 Braxton BaileyConsisting of almost 78 minutes of music, First Duo Concert (Emanem 5038 emanemdisc.com) is particularly relevant because it captures one dozen interactions between American multi-reedist Anthony Braxton and British guitarist Derek Bailey. Recorded in 1974, it displays the similarities, and as significantly, the differences between free music concepts. Even at this early date Bailey and many of his London-based colleagues rejected the idea of playing anything but in-the-moment music. But as true to the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) ethos as Knights Templar would be to their creed during the Crusades, the saxophonist/clarinetist brought not only familiarity with the blues form, but also an interest in semi-composed material and extended explorations in certain techniques to the date – concerns that remain with him more than 40 years later. When the completely improvised Area 3 (open) is reached, congruence turns to cooperation. What originally could have been the jolts produced when two blindfolded players collided with one another turns into a motley garment whose patchwork can envelop grinding string buzzes and harsh clangs as well as resonating timber wolf-like saxophone snarls and moderated bass clarinet ostinato. If gating banjo-like reverb plus internal body tube puffs and renal-like vibrations from his reed collection on Braxton’s part still disturb the evolving continuum like pointed flecks in rough wood grain, then his unexpected peeps and pops lessen as both aim towards measured expression. Allowing each partner’s full expression during single unaccompanied tracks, the duo reaches the zenith of mutual understanding on the extended Area 11 (open). While each still tests the limits of the other’s convictions with the zeal of a small child taunting the family pet, harsh, oblique strums and quivering, aviary-styled peeps from the clarinet finally dovetail enough so that aggressive string thumb taps fit into an accompanying groove, as later circular tweets from sopranino saxophone, clarinet and flute settle uneasily next to guitar strokes. The concluding Area 12 with its corkscrew reed squeaks and rugged string quivers gives notice that neither improvisational philosophy has bested the other. But the framework for future reciprocal idea exchanges has been set.

02 BrotzmannThree years earlier the protean trio of German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann, Belgian pianist Fred Van Hove and Dutch percussionist Han Bennink was constantly touring the continent confirming that a bellicose interpretation of free jazz wasn’t confined to Americans. The CD 1971 (Corbett vs Dempsey CD 020 corbettvsdempsey.com) reissues the band’s justly famous, furiously unyielding set at that year’s New Jazz Meeting, but adds an additional almost 16 minutes of sound recorded four months earlier that demonstrate the hair-trigger-like technical skill that goes into what initially seems like relentless bombast. Like the proverbial tough guy with the gentle interior, Van Hove for one uncovers elegant near-romantic phrasing on Filet Americain, which he expands with harsh clanging, sounding as if he prepared the piano with thumbtacks. Bennink confines himself to clattering reverberations and Brötzmann blows with a burr-like tone. I.C.P. No.17 is more aggressive, with the saxophonist’s subterrestrial exposition echoed by Bennink probably honking through a Tibetan radung or long metal bass horn. Just For Altena the 26-minute final showcase then shows how a palpitating rhythm can be maintained even as the players push techniques past expected instrumental limits. Spelled by the percussionist’s smashing cracks, horn blowing and yells, Brötzmann’s virtually endless honks and glottal punctuation sound as if he’s soon going to be pushing blood out of his horn as well as air. Still he manages to work in quotes from Bavarian marches, polkas, Mexican hat dances and limitless free-jazz glossolalia as he plays, often unaccompanied, reaching beyond the highest imaginable altissimo slur. Like a hyperactive canine, Bennink is also in motion, shoving everything from a conga-drum interlude to bass drum resonation to gong and cymbal clashes into his accompaniment as if boiling a potluck stew. Van Hove marathon-runner-like glissandi share space with crackling kinetic expositions that whack the keys and strings as frequently as they play them. Is it any wonder that at this time this trio could challenge any electrified rock band for pure excitement?

03 Willem BreukerAnother band that could do the same was the Willem Breuker Kollektief (WBK), like Bennink, part of Amsterdam’s fertile improv scene. Mixing anarchistic stunts, parody, constant motion, classic tune recreations plus free-form playing with top-line musicianship, the nine-piece group led by saxophonist/clarinetist Breucker (1944-2010) was the epitome of post-modernism. Yet unlike more academically oriented Fluxus or Dada experimentalists, the WBK was so entertaining that this two-CD set recorded live in France, Angoulême 18 mai 1980 (Fou Records FR-CD 9&10 fou.records.free.fr), ends with the raucous audience demanding three successive encores. A European equivalent of Sun Ra’s Arkestra, but infinitely less serious-minded, here the group mixes the precision of Glenn Miller’s band, the romping swing of Count Basie’s and the humour of Laurel and Hardy. During the concert modern jazz originals, a tango, Kurt Weil’s Song of Mandalay, Les Brown and his band of Renown’s theme song Sentimental Journey and finally the hokey I Believe – to disperse the crowd – race by at record pace. Additionally, following Big Busy Band where the group’s solid brassy power is broken up by Rob Verdurmen’s flashy drumming à la Gene Krupa, plus bassist Arjen Gorter playing Blues in the Closet, Breucker exposes his inner Benny Goodman and tenor saxophonist Maaren van Norden outscreams Big Jay McNeeley. Eventually an episode of pseudo-show-biz banter introduces March & Sax Solo with Vacuum Cleaner where Breucker does just that, improvising in tandem and in opposition to the whining household appliance. Like a squad of quick change artists the WBK is capable of taking on any persona, with pianist Henk de Jonge for instance, comping like a bopper, knocking out stride piano asides, beginning and ending Flat Jungle with romantic flourishes and extravagant glissandi that could be Vladimir Ashkenazy playing Chopin, channels Cecil Taylor’s contrasting dynamics in the song’s centre and mocks the saxophonist’s appropriation of the highest altissimo notes in existence with studied, flamboyant quotes from Rhapsody in Blue. Gorter’s bass line and Verdurmen’s back beat ensure that foot-stomping elation is always present, even if the rhythm team may sometimes feel like extras in a Marx Brothers movie with all the musical mayhem going on around them. Still any band that on Potsdamer Stomp mocks rock music’s overwrought yakety saxes via dueling solos from Breuker and baritone Bob Drissen, at the same time as playing Name That Tune, as fragments of everything from Chick Corea’s Spain to the Marine Hymn to circus music loom into earshot, confirms that these discs do a lot more than fill in a three-year gap in the WBK discography. They’re a jubilant listening experience on their own.

04 FrictionsIf music’s value is judged by its pervasive acceptance, then the tracks on Frictions/Frictions Now (NoBusiness Records NBCD 79 nobusinessrecords.com) are as notable as the better-known efforts by Breuker, Braxton-Bailey and Brötzmann. Independent of other connections, members of the Free Jazz Group Wiesbaden (FJGW) developed a caustic and punchy free music variant, which mixed musique concrète and chance notions from notated music, folkloric instruments and tropes plus improvisation that went beyond freebop into sonic intoxication. Recorded in 1969 and 1971 and released in limited edition, the German band members eventually pursued other paths. Like Quebec’s Walter Boudreau, who went from leading the Zappa-esque ensemble l’Infonie to become a composer and artistic director of Société de musique contemporaine du Québec, trumpeter Michael Sell abandoned improvisation for fully notated work in the 1980s; saxophonist/pianist/flutist Dieter Scherf played with major German free jazzers later in the decade before abandoning music because of dental problems; drummer Wolfgang Schlick and guitarist Gerhard König’s histories are even more obscure. However the three tracks here demonstrate the band’s originality. Coming across like a spiky combination of Jimi Hendrix, Sonny Sharrock and Earl Scruggs, König’s chord-shredding flanges insinuate into whatever spaces the horns leave open with a style that includes surf music intonation, single-string finesse and preparations that could come from double bass. Schlick’s coiled rumbles and consistent thumps range from martial to miasmatic; he doesn’t swing but keeps the pieces moving notwithstanding, even when slamming his metal bracket for unusual rhythms. Squeezing death rattles and hunting-horn-like blares from his trumpet, Sell’s tone resembles those of ur-New Thing players like Earl Cross and Don Ayler. Yet when he unites with Schlick they harmonize enough to approach contemporary jazz, and even flutter out rounded grace notes on the final Frictions Now Part II, to reach a meandering, delicate tempo. Leaping among his instruments like an unsupervised child in a music store, Scherf brings something different to each one. On alto saxophone, obviously influenced by the atonal techniques of American free jazzers, his honks, snorts and blats include crying vibrations that add an unconventional Teutonic melancholy. Brief shenai and oboe interludes introduce World Music allusions to the middle of the extended Frictions, while his inner-piano strums join with König’s finger-style ornamentation on the same piece for stark tonal outlines, finally climaxing with a moving motif that appears to judder from cadence to cacophony and back again.

Like crate digging in a second-hand vinyl store, reissues like these can reveal unexpected values. They confirm the talents of the known or introduce unfamiliar stylists who should have been better known first time out.

01 Allison AuForest Grove
Allison Au Quartet
Independent AA-15 (allisonau.com)

Saxophonist and composer Allison Au’s aptly titled Forest Groveis a lush and inviting recording that takes the listener on a journey through a suite-like series of tunes. The compositions retain a remarkable unity of purpose despite the obvious sonic and stylistic differences between them. Au’s writing embodies an approach that blends arrangement with improvisation in a way that seems perfectly natural. One idea flows seamlessly into the next, regardless of whether the ideas are improvised or composed. The addition of vocalist Felicity Williams on three of the nine tunes ties the record together and helps to deepen its compelling mood.

The opening track, Tides, establishes many of the hallmarks of Au’s writing and the band plays through them with ease and assurance. Complex harmonies are played over unexpected rhythmic shots and melodies are doubled with bass and Fender Rhodes piano. Drummer Fabio Ragnelli and bassist Jon Maharaj mesh effortlessly on the tricky arrangement, providing both groove and conversation. Au solos confidently, displaying a rich alto tone and a sophisticated linear concept.

Bolero features bassist Maharaj, improvising a lyrical solo over Au’s and Williams’ ethereal melody. The post-bop-tinged Aureole showcases the band’s convincing, hard swinging up-tempo chops. Au’s strong sense of the tradition is highlighted by Todd Pentney’s bluesy B-3 playing. They Say We Are Not Here closes the journey with Felicity Williams’ voice spinning textures over its gorgeous, hypnotic, two-chord vamp.

02 Linsey WellmanManifesto
Linsey Wellman
Independent (linseywellman.com)

Recent publicity suggests that alto saxophonist Linsey Wellman is at the pinnacle of his improvisational powers. That remains to be seen (he may scale greater heights in the future) but even if he never achieves anything better than this album he has ample reason to be proud. This set of seven songs, Manifesto, carves its own niche in the realm of solo alto saxophone performances. The opener, la culture is a joyous, dancing piece which engages you and gets the album off to a decidedly flying start. It is followed by dans laquelle on investit (literally, In Which It Invests) a profound, slow and slightly mysterious ballad edged with a rueful feel. This chart features some thoughtful, melodic soloing by Wellman as does avec laquelle (With Which), which reminds me a little of the work of Greg Osby, another great and unjustly overlooked experimentalist.

The fact that the titles of the songs in French and English have a distinct phrase-like abruptness to them suggests the interconnectedness of the music on the album. This extraordinary linearity continues to intrigue and delight as Wellman rings in the changes in mood, structure and tempo, making for a constantly interesting program. The degree of balance, integration and melody, harmony and rhythm, of composition and improvisation, of exploration, individuality and tradition is impressively maintained throughout the program. It’s a manifesto that truly sings.

03 Linton GarnerThanks...
Linton Garner
Cellar Live CL062402 (cellarlive.com)

The late, great pianist Linton Garner spent the last 30 years of his life as a beloved and respected member of the Vancouver jazz scene. Garner relished his younger brother Erroll’s success, but focused his own musical career on orchestral, ensemble and small venue performance work – often sharing the stage with jazz luminaries, including Billy Eckstein, Nancy Wilson, Lester Young, Dizzie Gillespie and Miles Davis – all the while acting as a treasured teacher and mentor to several generations of Vancouver-centric jazz musicians.

This superb project is the brainchild of Don Fraser, who acts as producer here. Fraser enjoyed a long professional and personal relationship with Garner and was the drummer in his trio for more than six years. Thanks…is a labour of love for Fraser, and as Garner would have wanted – all proceeds from the project are earmarked for the Linton Garner Scholarship Fund at Capilano University in North Vancouver.

The album itself is comprised of remastered CBC recordings, from 1993 through 2002 (featuring Fraser on drums, Stewart Loseby on sax and bassist Peter Trill) as well as live tracks from a memorable B.C. concert performance (I Never Said Goodbye) dedicated to Garner’s late brother, Erroll.

Highlights of this fine recording and tribute include the gospel-infused piano solo Pittsburgh Blue; the evocative I Never Said Goodbye and the elegant trio tune Won’t You Come Dance With Me. The final track on the CD is saxophonist Loseby’s deeply moving Lament for Mr. G, which features Miles Black on piano and was recorded following Garner’s passing in 2004.

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