A Darkly Colorful Big Band Masterpiece From the Jazzlab Orchestra

One of the most deliciously epic, intricately imaginative albums of the past several months is Montreal band the Jazzlab Orchestra‘s latest release Loguslabusmuzikus, streaming at their music page. This is one of those records where there’s so much going on that it would take a small book to cover it all. The compositions are tuneful and playful, with a frequent noir sensibility. It would not be overhype to call this a logical descendant in a long and fiercely individualistic tradition that Gil Evans crystallized in the early 60s.

The band like funny, surreal song titles. The first is La Grande Sauve Majeure, its wary, circling initial riff anchored by Samuel Blais’ bass clarinet. Brighter harmonies rise as the song gathers steam, Felix Stussy’s piano keeping the steady, brooding undercurrent going as the melody grows puffier. Trumpeter Jacques Kuba Seguin chooses his spots, swoops and dives over the loopy noir underpinning. Bassist Alain Bédard hints at a sprint; trombonist Thomas Morelli-Bernard channels brooding blues over drummer Michel Lambert’s moody latin tom-tom flourishes. Bright but acidic horns join the churning backdrop: these detectives are going to close the case soon – but wait, Seguin has to make sure the coast is clear first. And that’s just the first song, all eleven minutes of it.

Humor de la Second Noche is another deliciously dark number, an altered noir mambo with hints of dub reggae. Lurid Gil Evans blue-neon modes from the horns color the scene over Bédard’s marionettish pulse. The uneasily quadrangulated saxes of Blais, Mario Allard. Benjamin Deschamps and Annie Dominique flicker and flutter around Lambert’s steady sway; Stussy takes a tantalizingly ominous break echoed by the trombone.

The album’s second ten-minute-plus monstrosity is Pum la Suite, introduced by a thoughtfully spiraling soprano sax solo, the group come in and find themselves punching in to answer Stussy’s ripples and enigmatic glimmer. Cheery, brassy swing gets cuisinarted at slow speed, bookending an increasingly feral sax solo. Coy horn and drum clusters go back and forth, trombone stepping out as the voice of reason.

Catchy, circling, slowly swaying phrases also fuel the next number, Bluesy del Lunedi. trombone and then alto sax resonate and then race over Stussy’s judicious modalities. Soprano sax – it’s hard to tell who’s playing what, considering that all the reed players in the band seem to play every sax there is – takes the song in a darker direction, to a brass-driven, stairstepping conclusion.

Catchy, wary syncopation and staggered variations on bright riffs also figure in Criucm, Stussy becoming a pierrot lunaire in a vigorous, all-too-brief solo. A punchy bass solo brings back the eerie, chiming piano. The horns get more emphatic, but without a hint of resolution, on the way out.

The group follow a similar pattern, but with more of a gleaming horn interweave in Le Grain Blanc dans les Voiles – there’s definitely wind in these sails. Pensive soprano sax swoops and prowls; the group tease with a suspenseful closing riff but opt instead for a spare trumpet solo grounded by growling bass clarinet.

How much bloodshed and mayhem is there in the album’s most epic track, Casse Pattes – Casse Gueule – Casse Têtes? None, it seems, but it’s a lot of fun. Punchy brass herald the illusion of a bullfight, tightly scampering piano riffs and a lefthand crush from Stussy filling in the blanks. Alto sax rises matter-of-factly over an energetically modal vamp; after a terse drum solo, the group reprise the previous number’s false-ending trope, but with more predictable results.

Another toreador riff kicks off Lunes et Marees, a devious trombone/bass clarinet conversation increasingly overwritten by a colorful parade of voices. Extended solos from flute and soprano sax make this the airiest tune on the record; even the bass clarinet can’t resist going up the scale. They take it out on a genially bluesy note.

The group conclude their report in Compte Rendu, the closest thing to straight-up swing here with its blue-sky ensemble riffage and a piano solo that finally spins into wee-hour contentment. If you love big band jazz as much as this blog does, don’t blink on this inspiring, imaginative crew.