Lucid Culture

JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

Plush Nocturnes from Julian Shore

Pianist Julian Shore’s new Filaments is not a particularly edgy album, but it is an unselfconsciously attractive one – and it isn’t shallow by a long shot. While a student at Berklee, Shore found a muse in Gretchen Parlato, and jumped at the chance to sub in her band when Taylor Eigsti was out of town. That influence is clear here: it could also be said that this is a less demanding version of what Sara Serpa is doing with vocalese-based third-stream sounds. For Shore, less is more: his soloing is spacious, usually establishing a warm early-evening ambience in tandem with the plush vocal harmonies of Alexa Barchini – who also wrote lyrics to a couple of the tunes – and Shelly Tzarafi. Phil Donkin on bass and the reliably excellent Tommy Crane on drums maintain a deceptively energetic pulse underneath.

The album’s opening track, Grey Lights, Green Lily sets the tone, a distantly bucolic theme that reminds of Jeremy Udden, or Bill Frisell but without the persistent unease. Guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel’s biting prowl contrasts with Shore’s terse, warm approach and Tzarafi’s nebulous atmospherics. Barchini’s clear, high soprano shows off a Jenifer Jackson-esque wistfulness on Made Very Small, Rosenwinkel’s high-beam sostenuto lines mingling tersely with Shore’s crepuscular twinkle. Big Bad World, a jazz waltz, takes chances with clutter as Jeff Miles’ guitar spirals around the piano, but they sidestep it, the women’s harmonies driving a series of lush crescendos.

Whisper, a fetchingly direct, hushedly lyrical Shore/Barchini co-write, shows off a crystalline purity throughout her range; the song is reprised briefly at the end of the album as a piece for Kurt Ozan’s solo dobro. Give brings Rosenwinkel back for oldschool charm and then spacious bite as Godwin Louis’ alto sax, Billy Buss’ trumpet and Andrew Hadro’s baritone sax join forces for a catchy late-period Weather Report style chart. Donkin nimbly intersperses his own muted solo amidst the glimmer of the tastefully, low-key jazz waltz I Will If You Will, while Crane does the same with a surprisingly effective, hard-hitting drive alongside Miles’ judicious incisions and the wash of vocals on Like a Shadow.

For one reason or another, the single most intense track here, Misdirection/Determined is a lot closer to art-rock than jazz, Barchini evoking a Mingus-era Joni Mitchell longing over Shore’s moody modalities. And the most overtly balladesque of the tracks, Venus, features Noah Preminger’s tenor shifting artfully between the boudoir and the highwire. This album sneaks up on you: there literally isn’t a bad song on it. It’s  a step in an auspicious direction: let’s hope there’s more where this came from.

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October 13, 2012 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dark Pensive Sounds from Matthew Silberman

There is no ostentation on Matthew Silberman’s new album Questionable Creatures. The dynamic shifts stay for the most part within a narrow range: the energy on this album is created as the band maintains tension and ramps it up, often by simply staying where they are. That can be a hard line to walk, but more often than not they pull it off, the tenor saxophonist and bandleader joined by Ryan Ferreira and Greg Ruggiero splitting duties on guitar, with Chris Tordini on bass and Tommy Crane on drums.

This group doesn’t waste notes: several of the tracks here including the opener, Ghost of the Prairie, are practically minimalist. On that one, Silberman plays with a casual wariness over Ferreira’s keening atmospherics, Crane immediately setting a tone he’ll maintain throughout the album, establishing a distantly ominous rumble rather than taking centerstage with any kind of pummelling crescendo. The second track, Mrs. Heimoff, veers from a jazz waltz to straight-up, Silberman getting as warm and lyrical as he’ll do here; the way that Ferreira trails the beat with his echoing phrases before the final chorus is one of the album’s high points.

Breath (an original, not the Pink Floyd song) works airily suspenseful variations on a guitar loop, eventually establishes a rhythm and goes out slow and swaying with Crane’s elegant cymbal work. The Battle at Dawn portrays less of a struggle than simply a struggle to get out of bed, with a terse In a Silent Way melody lit up by Ruggiero’s bright melodicism paired off against Crane’s caveman-on-the-horizon beats. The title track is absolutely Lynchian, taking a blithe Mexican folk theme abruptly and memorably into murky, apprehensively modal terrain and then back again with not a little irony. Dream Machine, essentially a deconstructed anthem with compartmentalized voicings, is the most free piece here; they follow it with another jazz waltz, The Process, which finally hits a rampaging crescendo carried by Ruggiero before winding out rather ambiguously. The Pharaoh’s Tomb serves as the coda here, Ferreira’s guitar setting up a hot/cold dynamic with his acidic sostenuto that they take out in with a quick explosion straight out of 1975-era King Crimson. Those who are looking for a lot of those kind of swells will have to look elsewhere, but for fans of darker, more introspective jazz, this is a great listen.

And it comes with a poster! When’s the last time you picked up an album with one of those? If you’re lucky, maybe a used copy of Quadrophenia from some street vendor? With its disembodied facial parts set against an arid Tattooine desert, Sandra Reichl’s illustration is like a Dali outtake: it’s not clear if there’s any connection to the content on the album, but it’s sure nice to have something new and cool for the wall here. Silberman and the band play the album release show on Sept 25 at Shapeshifter Lab in Gowanus.

September 8, 2012 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment