Showing posts with label Herbie Hancock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Herbie Hancock. Show all posts

23/04/2016

Alba - Markus Stockhausen and Florian Weber

Track list:

1. What Can I Do for You?
2. Mondtraum
3. Surfboard
4. Ishta
5. Emergenzen
6. Barycenter
7. Emilio
8. Possibility I
9. Befreiung
10. Resonances
11. Die Weise Zauberin
12. Synergy Melody
13. Better World
14. Zephir
15. Today

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2016
Another new purchase now. Popped up when browsing online shops, had an interesting title which made me look, and an interesting description that made me buy. First listen time.

When I wrote the intro for the last post, I figured that I would be finding more time to listen. Instead I have been short of it. This disc arrived more than a week back now and I have accumulated drafts from new purchases; time to start knocking them off.

This opens quietly, tensely, trembling. It is a soft and warm sound, but neither of the leads. They arrive later - a high pitched, colder, piano, and a Davis-like horn. I think this is a really strong start, a mournful loneliness in there belies the atmosphere in my living room with a muted TV showing pictures of an FA cup semifinal in the periphery of my vision, and the day being as bright now as it has been at any point. The music though is my immediate concern, and one that intrigues and pleases without dragging my mind into the lonely states that I hear. The second piece starts with a starkly clear, crisp piano tune. The trumpet layers in on top. These pieces have a certain soundtrack-like element to them in places, long distance shots, people moving in the distance, but disengaged from our viewpoint.

The name of this album appealed and drew me in as I was browsing, as Alba is an old name, a Gaelic name, for Scotland, as used in the Albion RPG which I am still occasionally running. I wonder if the two Germans behind this music knew that - about the name, I mean; clearly they know nothing and care nothing for my game! I don't think the themes here evoke imagery of the crags and lochs though. It seems an unlikely inspiration, though would fit with the sense of isolation the early tunes convey and perhaps with the snow-blown image on the cover. The third track blows the atmosphere though. A more staccato, more involved, piano tune here is energised, busy it a way that the first two were not. It reminds me of another modern jazz record that I have, but I don't remember if it is GoGo Penguin or Roller Trio. This tone is misplaced here, not fitting given the slower and more considered sounds before and, now, afterwards. Surfboard feels like it has been dropped in from another album, without comment or particular thought - an impression that was there at the beginning of the piece, but cemented by Ishta's return to the initial feel.

I really like the slow, lonely sounds here. I wonder though whether they would still appeal if this wasn't new to me. I think so. Whilst I don't see myself coming back to this over and over as I do with my favourite piano jazz (two albums from Esbjörn Svensson Trio in particular - Seven Days of Falling and Tuesday Wonderland), in the right moods I could see myself looking out time to listen to this again. There is a sedate pacing to the themes here, even when the melody is busy and full of notes. We seem to rely more heavily on the piano than on the horn here, which makes sense... the keys provide more structure, the brass injects presence. When it appears the tunes change noticeably, it dominates.

Barycenter is an interlude - a frenetic piano tune for a minute. It again breaks the tone set by what came before, and what follows. A second occurrence of this is suggestive that the break is intentional, but I am struggling to see what it adds to inject these incongruous numbers. Emilio returns us to a slower and more thoughtful piece and is immediately more pleasant for that. I was expecting Possibility I to be another fish out of water based on the name but whilst it is short it doesn't break the feel of the overall piece so much, and nor does Befreiung despite having a faster pace, a warmer feel and sunnier outlook. This still oozes the relaxed air, though the key part has more urgency and the trumpet plays more positively.

The brighter tone is temporary though as the Resonances are sparse. This time it is the trumpet left to its own devices, plotting its lonely course through a sea of silence. Two minutes fly by, and for the first time I am feeling the obligatory 40s LA vibe that all jazz of a certain type seems to evoke, those dark overhead pans from black and white movies, sleazy joints and private dicks. The feel continues into the following tune, dissipates part way through as the music returns to the themes and feel that have dominated the majority of this disc, then surprises me by re-emerging again. I rather like that as I was caught unawares by the subtle tonic shifts. This is definitely a slow ablum; in that, it feels like a little bit of an antidote to the modern world. For the most part though it does not sound dated or out of place.

I prefer the slower pieces, the really sedate ones. There is a depth to the sound that belies the sparse arrangement as the interplay between our primary actors fills the stage masterfully. Some of the themes are empty enough that it allows my mind to wander along with my eye, and I suspect I am missing some finer points, but the best thing I am finding in these pieces is a sense of peace. The playing still calls to mind Miles Davis more than I was expecting going in. I would naturally have expected a bent towards a more European or Nordic sound. Meanwhile the piano reminds me of latter-day Herbie Hancock, as this is not really piano-led jazz in the same way as Svensson's was. Here the magic is all in the combination, the whole, and the spaces they leave for each other, which brings me back to the Davis reference. It may not be the horn playing itself, it could be the construction of the pieces as a whole harking back to specific moments, likely from Kind of Blue. For shame I can't give a clear reference to back that up, alas.

And just like that I am approaching the end of this one. The hour has zipped by faster than I was expecting and despite the often sedate pacing it hasn't dragged once. There were low points - particularly that first injection of pace and energy which really wasn't needed - but overall I was very impressed and taken with both the individual pieces and the general theme that the album shot for. The final short number finishes very abruptly (if something so stately in pace can be abrupt), which is a little jarring. Still nothing like as jarring as the couple of tracks that broke ranks on pace and tone, though. I am not going to ditch them offhand - first listen and all - but may do in future.

20/07/2015

The Best of British Folk [Castle] - Various Artists

Track list:

1. Streets of London - Ralph McTell
2. Colours - Donovan
3. Light Flight (Take Three Girls Theme) - Pentangle
4. Needle of Death - Bert Jansch
5. Her Father Didn't Like Me Anyway - The Humblebums
6. Mirrors - Sally Oldfield
7. Candy Man - John Renbourn
8. The Times They Are A-Changin' - The Ian Campbell Folk Group
9. I'm So Confused - Mick Softly
10. Boadicea - Dave Swarbrick
11. Both Sides Now - The Johnstons
12. The Alchemist and the Pedler - Dransfield
13. Bright Phoebus - Mike and Lal Waterson
14. Timeless and Strange - Keith Christmas
15. Stargazer - Shelagh McDonald
16. Breakdown of the Song - Decameron
17. When I Was on Horseback - Steeleye Span
18. Fiddler's Green - Tim Hart & Maddy Prior
19. Mary Skeffington - Gerry Rafferty
20. Matty Groves - Fairport Convention

Released: 1995
Running time: 79 minutes
What to say about this? It was probably a mistake, a quick unthinking purchase when I first realised I was getting into folk. It certainly feels that 1995 should be more like 1975 in terms of release and that this represents as much of what was wrong with folk music than what is right about it but we'll see. I recognise a few of the performers and a couple of the songs. Will this turn into the rag on cluelessness hour?

We open with Streets of London, a classic of sorts. Actually not a bad song, but I cannot hear it without thinking of a Big Train sketch where McTell is forced to just repeat it over and over as none of his audience know anything else. Video embedded below. That rather makes it a throwaway, pleasant roll that brings a wry amusement. it is not a song that grabs me and demands full attention, promising great reward.

Donovan. The name is synonymous with the less than enlightened folk that the filled wilderness years before the revival of the 00s that persists to date. I have never heard him before other than perhaps on Top of the Pops 2 with some shoddy faux-comedic captioning. I am not impressed. I will state now that I am sure my prejudicial attitude to this material will colour this listen, but I am not going to apologise for that.

The Pentangle track starts as a mess but improves when the vocal joins in, despite its rather airy tone it seems to bind the disparate threads of the music together. There are bits and pieces of interest in the composition but as a whole it falls flat for me. Ah, that is a bit better. Bert Jansch has a (very) little of Nick Drake about him, as much in the intonation as anything else. Not the voice or the delivery as a whole, but the cadence on certain words matches my metal recollection of Drake here and there. Alas it is nowhere near as enduring, and as the song wears on the performance starts to grate a little. The picked guitar is repetitive to a significant degree and the singing voice is harsher than I would like and I find myself happier once it ends.

That is not to say what starts next impresses immediately. It has that same comfortable impression: aiming to, and hitting, a very specific but very bland note. It tries to dispel this thought by the inclusion of brass and/or woodwind - which works to a point - but I find this uninspired TV theme tune music, as if it is aiming for the lowest common denominator of "not disagreeable" rather than shooting to impress.

If it weren't for the sleigh-bells and a horridly warbling vocal, Mirrors might have been interesting. That vocal is worse for the effect of the recording, self-echo or something. The rhythm here is more interesting, a little Latin in places, even, but there is no redeeming the bells. Ugh.

 
 Big Train does Streets of London

Candyman returns to a picked guitar and vocal - it is precisely the kind of blind Dylan-copy I expected to find on this disc. All the same idea, but with none of the craft or genre-defining pioneering, which makes it apt that the next track is a cover of The Times They Are A-Changin' that, by introducing a pretty bad harmony, hand-bells and a depth of accompaniment that overpowers the melody makes for a horrid experience. It is not even that I hold Dylan on a pedestal; I have a little, not much. This though? This is travesty. Of music. How it got on to any "best" anything is beyond me.

Almost half way through in terms of tracks, but alas not close for time. Yes, I am wishing it were over already. My evening plans broke down last minute, which is where I found the time to do this listen, started on impulse when I knew I wouldn't be going out. I have, again, been neglecting my self-imposed workload in favour of simple recovery or being busy. I'm So Confused drifts by almost unnoticed, and then we hit a fiddle tune, Boadicea.  This I like more and could see myself not skipping if it came up in a shuffle. It has enough of a tune that I can excuse the somewhat out-of-place electric bass, the little loopy "pause" being particularly effective for my taste. Glad this hasn't been a total waste of time, then!

It's funny that the "Best of British Folk" involves covers of notable people from across the Atlantic, eh? First Dylan, now Joni Mitchell. I figured this for a cover when I heard it start, but wouldn't have known of whom without Google - though I do apparently have another version of this song on Herbie Hancock's tribute, River. It isn't amongst the couple of Mitchell albums I have though. It breezes by, nothing noteworthy beyond its obvious non-traditional provenance.

We are back to quintessentially English folk-rock blahdom with Dransfield though. Straight out of the inoffensive middle of the road blandness that characterised a decade or two of "folk" on these shores. Twee guitar riff, boring rhythm, darkness-infused vocal that is occasionally used to add dramatic stress (or rather fail to). This is symptomatic of why folk fell out of fashion, obliterated by more energetic and inspiring performances in other fields. Seven and a half minutes of dreary droning, its enough to drive me to drink. Thankfully I picked up some Hoegaarden in my monthly shop on the way home, so that isn't all bad!

With the Watersons I am on more familiar ground, but ground I tread warily. I both recognise their role in preserving British folk traditions and indirectly helping forge the revival and find myself not really liking their work a lot of the time. I have more than a couple of albums by, or inspired by them though so Waterson is a name that will appear again on these pages.

Honestly, what kind of name is Keith Christmas? One associated with blandness and very stereotypical delivery that completely conjures the beardy weirdy freak image of 70s folk, detached from the real world rather than rooted in it, even when spinning tales of the fantastic. If you can't tell, I don't much like Timeless and Strange - the title is the least boring thing about it, and even that is awful. Timeless this isn't; Forgettable and Bland would be a more apt name. Musically, Stargazer is similarly uninspiring. Vocally it is the most interesting thing thus far on the disc and pleasant enough to override my initial detachment with the arrangement. There are echoes of Mitchell, or perhaps some other luminary I cannot place here too in the first half of the track. Alas the second half is completely devoid of interest as the vocal dies out and is replaced by some chanting that is background to the still uninspired tune. I got my hopes up for a second there; lesson learned.

Oh dear, how totally... I have no words. Decameron's effort is a commentary on the music industry, a meta-song. It is also awful; it may be lyrically amusing in its effect but again it just smacks of blandness, lack of craft and turn up bash out musicianship.

Oh now, that's interesting. I am pretty sure I have heard these lyrics before in a different context, because I don't recognise When I Was On Horseback as performed here, or as a title. Steeleye Span, though... the name is very familiar. Memories of my dad's record collection - he's a big Fairport fan too; took my brother and I to Cropredy, along with some Greek guests, almost 20 years back now; a better experience than you might think based on my notes here! Anyhow, I don't think much of this piece, but I found the familiarity of some of the lyrics interesting. Not too surprised though, folk songs are like that - the same song recorded with very different tunes and variable lyrics that overlap but don't mimic.

Nearing the end now, not much more to endure. I fist typed "enjoy" then, but that certainly wouldn't be accurate. I am more relaxed now than when I begun, so the exercise has not been in vain. It is one more album chalked off, and a bad, long one at that. The next disc has to be more promising, right? This ends up, predictably I guess, with Fairport Convention. I should be scathing as they are the epitome of the bland folk rock I despise... but, well. I think there is a mitigation: this whole genre was to some degree others copying them after their success. That said, I don't much like the song, the long lead out in particular. I end with this disc all but wiped out, only Boadicea and Streets of London kept. Onwards to better things I hope.