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JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

A Fearlessly Funny, Politically-Inspired Trip From Trumpeter Jaimie Branch

Trumpeter Jaimie Branch‘s latest album Fly or Die II: Bird Dogs of Paradise – streaming at Bandcamp – is her most surreal, amusing yet also ferociously relevant album yet. The centerpiece is the fiery diptych Prayer for Amerikkka, opening with Lester St. Louis’ gingerly incisive cello riffs. Branch’s trumpet defiantly shouts above a gloomy, swaying, starkly gospel-tinged sway from bassist Jason Ajemian and drummer Chad Taylor. “We got a bunch of wide-eyed racists, coming for you as they dig in your paychecks – they think they run this shit,” Branch snarls as the guys in the band do a surreal call-and-response behind her. The strings flutter ominously, then shift to a brisk, increasingly lush pulse. “What is love when it’s all just memory, in solitude – this is a warning, honey, they’re coming for you!” Branch follows with a scream, then twelve-string guitarist Matt Schneider fuels a flamenco-tinged stampede out.

Branch opens the album with Birds of Paradise, a hypnotic, balafon-like loop and seagull-scape. After her mighty two-part broadside, an increasingly agitated string interlude leads into Twenty Three n Me: Jupiter Redux, its catchy, brightly loopy theme sailing over a steady clave and background squall, peaking with an explosively echoey vortex.

Jungly samples and a spare, echoing bass/cello duet introduce Simple Silver Surfer, a ridiculously surreal, spikily vamping faux-surf tune that Branch finally pushes toward New Orleans. Slow tectonic shifts permeate the album’s title track, then Taylor’s playfully tumbling drums take over and segue into the jubilant Nuevo Roquero Estereo, reprising the album’s loopy opening theme with spare, terse trumpet riffage and dubwise electronics.

Branch winds up the record with an irresistibly hilarious, catchy oldschool soul groove titled Love Song, dedicated to “all those assholes and all those clowns out there, you know who you are.” Her talking trumpet will have you rolling on the floor: it’s the best straight-up dis recorded this year. What an unselfconsciously, ridiculously fun album.

December 21, 2019 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fearless Individualism and Fearsome Chops from Trumpeter Jaimie Branch

Trumpeter Jaimie Branch has made a lot of waves with her sepulchral extended technique, which is only one of the many, many weapons in her arsenal. She has a rich, resounding Wadada Leo Smith-like tone and fast fingers on the valves, yet she’s more likely to build a song without words around catchy riffage. In the proud AACM tradition, the native Chicagoan is a rare example of an improviser with a laserlike sense of melody, yet she also isn’t afraid of controlled chaos – and the other kind of chaos too. Her debut album Fly or Die, one of the most entertaining jazz releases of the year so far, is streaming at Bandcamp. She’s playing Roulette tomorrow night, May 4 at 8 PM with her drum-trumpet duo Anteloper and then with the quartet on the new album; advance tix are $18 and still available as of today.

Tomeka Reid’s cello and Jason Ajemian’s bass exchange funky riffs while the bandleader’s terse, bluesy hooks and spine-tingling flurries rise over drummer Chad Taylor’s splattershot shuffle as the opening number, simply titled Theme 001, gets underway. A gorgeous decay, guitarist Matt Schneider plucking his way into the picture, triggers a segue into Meanwhile, a hazy, horizontal intelude where Taylor gets to spin around his kit and keep everybody centered

From there they segue once again, into Theme 002, a catchy, plucky cello tune over Ajemian’s steady, wry vintage ska beat: Lloyd Knibb would be proud to hear what the guy does here. Branch and Reid walk slightly different paths on separate sides of the street

Cornetists Josh Berman and Ben Lamar Gay join Branch for Leaves, in a wistful and then anguished reverb-drenched, twistedly produced call-and-response: the repercussions, everybody milling around uneasily, take up half the track. The Storm draws on downward slides from the strings and emphatic, steady drum work awash in a sea of reverb, Branch untethered and alone but resolute, completely unafraid. The group march their ghostly way out.

Waltzer is not a waltz but a gently marching backdrop for Branch to make a slow trail in from desolation to vintage 50s Miles ebullience, Taylor and Ajemian bubbling as Reid eases her in with a hypnotic stroll. The album’s title track is a sputtering, spacious solo miniature, followed by the catchy, bluesily bustling Theme Nothing: Schneider’s evil waterslide runs are a highlight, as is Taylor’s quasi-Balkan, rat-a-tat rimshot attack behind Branch’s searing rattle. The gentle, nocturnal guitar miniature Back at the Ranch closes the album on an unexpected note. Expect similarly counterintuitive things from this fearlessly individualistic talent in the years to come.

May 3, 2019 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment