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.

Blue Train - John Coltrane

Track list:

1. Blue Train
2. Moment's Notice
3. Locomotion
4. I'm Old Fashioned
5. Lazy Bird

Running time: 42 minutes
Released: 1957

A jazz classic next. I used to be really hot on saxophones but I got won over by the trumpet. I don't think I've ever really given Coltrane the same sort of chance I did Miles Davis, for instance. It will be good to actually give this a real, knowing, chance.

The opening refrains are iconic, but I could never have placed them by name. Instantly recognisable when they hit my ear, I feel like a dunce for not being able to call to mind the sounds of this album. Admittedly it does not take long for the tune to extend beyond the limits of my familiarity, but that start is so strong. It has been a busy week, out or engaged every night except Monday. Saturday now, and it has been a pleasingly lazy day. I feel like I really ought to have found the time for this earlier in the day, but there's no real reason for that kind of self-demeaning attitude.

I find Coltrane's horn a little over-eager. The structure created by the bass and drums, and reinforced by the soft background keys, is a nice slow and steady one for the most part and yet the sax is frenetic in places - a nervous energy and pace about it that makes it hard to love. When he plays at the same tempo as the support, the quality of the tune grows and it shines. Oh, sure - you can denigrate it as "trad jazz" if you don't like the form - but to my mind one of the things about the true jazz classics is that they are accessible to a fault. Far from the ridiculous stereotypes of performers disappearing up their own behinds (which no doubt happened for some, as it does with some modern musicians) in their pretentiousness, the best and most well received, long lasting, jazz is easy to relate to rather than built around incomprehensible time signatures and self-absorbed solos.

The first couple of bars of Moment's Notice are equally very recognisable. Could it be that I have heard the openings a lot and skipped the rest? Possible. For as much as I just said the best jazz is accessible, I do find that as a rule it fits in a shuffle less well than most other forms. Here there is more urgency to the drumming and so the fast pace of the saxophony (no, I know that's not a word, although apparently it is a group; hello one-tag wonder!) is more appreciated here. I don't feel the same affiliation to these tracks as I did (and maybe will again) with those on Kind of Blue, there isn't that same instinctive connection with Coltrane's melodies. I suppose it would be fairer to compare like with like, and reference other saxophonists, but the truth is that whilst I have a best of Charlie Parker I don't really have much else driven off the power of sax. I have to say I do like the way Coltrane book-ends Moment's Notice though, the return to the same theme that opened the tune making a nice and neat closure to the track.

I suppose we should expect a track titled Locomotion to be pretty pacy, and Coltrane does not disappoint us there. I think his sax is upstaged by the trumpet with which it divides early melody duty, but I think that probably just reflects my post-teen shift in appreciation. Nevertheless this is, for me, a more engaging track. I find myself really liking the rhythm and pulse of this one, as opposed to more distantly appreciating the prior two tunes. Despite it being 7 minutes long, this is all I find the time and presence of mind to type before it ends (perhaps I was enjoying it too much to type? Lets go with that) and we shift down the gears for I'm Old Fashioned, which is - or rather was - apparently a standard. This has a nice laid back atmosphere to it which I appreciate here, and the horns are appropriately dulled and subdued. It's making me a little sleepy, but I wouldn't call that a bad thing at all. This, again, is the accessibility of great jazz all over. The pattern is instantly hooked in, the mood is consistent and supported by all parts. You could say that should be true of most music, and you'd probably be right to. It is the kind of tune I can see people not getting into, but at the same time I can't find anything objectionable about it at all.

Just like that I am on to the last track. Lazy Bird picks up the pace again and this time I feel that it strays into bland background filler territory. I am not sure why, but I fail to perceive the same craft here that was obvious through the prior tunes. Maybe it is the glass or two of wine that has gone to my head or the jolt out of the relaxed mood the alcohol and music, in combination, had achieved by the end of I'm Old Fashioned, but this tune feels far more generic at the start, and then when it devolves into "everyone needs a solo" - including bass and drums - I feel my ties to the track slipping. That said, the 7 minutes is over in a flash!

Either I was blanking out (and honestly I have not had anywhere near enough to drink for that!) or actually this album is a masterful example of sucking you in. The relatively sparse comment on at least 2 of the tracks despite them being twice the length of your standard pop song confirms my ear was pretty much hooked, and my mind with it. I rather enjoy that, even if I can't say that the album consciously stands out and shines for me. Would listen again.

Bitches Brew (Disc 2) - Miles Davis

Track list:

1. Spanish Key
2. John McLaughlin
3. Miles Runs the Voodoo Down
4. Sanctuary
5. Feio

Running time: 58 minutes
Released: 1970

So after the first disc of this so called classic was a major disappointment, what of the remaining hour of music from Bitches' Brew? My hopes aren't high, but the fact that these tracks are a touch shorter might be a good sign.

Another week has gone by since I gave time over to the first disc in this set, and I am still massively disappointed with it. I am heartened then, when the initial sounds of Spanish Key are really very appealing. The length of the piece concerns me, on past form, and the hour length of these 5 tunes together is what sealed not listening to anything during the week. Now though, it is a bright Sunday morning and I am putting off the thought of having to garden in the brisk October air.

A forceful trumpet, sultry sax and a rhythm that wouldn't feel out of place in noughties electronica is a good introduction though. The addition of synth notes lightens the mood and it is this lightening that makes the first theme change work, the tone of the brass pieces changing to be more of a floating sound, sitting above the continued structure rather than wallowing in amongst it. The threatening percussion fades a little as we approach half-way, and there is a full on tonal shift to a brighter, funkier piece. Oddly, whilst I felt that disc 1 was a child of its time, dated horribly, this piece feels like it was ahead of its and still sits nicely. If I didn't know who I was listening to here, for those stretches when Davis' trumpet is quiet or placed other than front and centre I would be guessing the creators as more likely to be a Ninja Tune affiliate of some kind. What a difference a week makes?

The shuffling nature of the percussion maintains the consistency throughout this track, addressing the worst of the issues I had with Pharaoh's Dance, and the lines and shapes woven on top of that by the keyboards and horns are given license to meander precisely because they have boundaries drawn within which to do so. I cannot escape the feeling that the piece goes too far and too long - everything past about 10 minutes feels unnecessary - but unlike with what I heard last week it does keep me engaged and doesn't stray far from the path in other ways. Its not a complete wash out for Bitches Brew, then.

John McLaughlin stands out on this album because it is sub 5 minutes. Musically it definitely feels like it comes from the same place as Spanish Key, but there is less reliance on horns here - keys and guitars carry the piece instead and half way through I am not sure I have heard Davis' trumpet once. It ends up feeling much of a muchness - too samey throughout to generate any real feeling. It could have been another movement in the prior track (though I am grateful that it wasn't) and probably only survives a cull because of its relative brevity making it a more appropriate inclusion in a shuffle.

There is a nice feel to the start of the third track. Trumpet back to lead the main theme, percussion slowed down giving a more southern bayou feel to things (should that be capitalised?) which the top end has to work to shake off, and does. The horn theme is the most musical we have had on the album to date and this really does feel like a fusion between a more classical jazz with sounds that post-date it because the combination sits well here. Fusion implies a joining, and on the first disc things were simply not linked up right. It feels to me as if the group as a whole maybe learned from that and by this point in the recording sessions had realised the importance of continuity and connections in enabling the freewheeling chop and change that drives the melodies (such as they are). This disc feels a world away from the two tracks that made up the first half of the record.

I've hit a lull though as the midpoint of Miles Runs the Voodoo Down falls into blandness - the horn melodies have gone and whilst there is still continuity of bass the rest of it has gone tits up. Experimentation on the keys overrides anything else that forms part of the piece, like a black hole sucking away any merit. Thankfully the section is gone as suddenly as it arrived but it leaves a sour note for the first time in this listen. There are two more tracks to go, and its another 20 minutes. I realise suddenly that the bland moment may have brought upon a fatigue with the listen as a whole which may prejudice the approach to the last couple of pieces.

The opening of Sanctuary has a soft and mellow tone, harking back to earlier in Davis' career and, to me, creating images of a nightime city-pan scene in 40s LA. Why does that setting still resonate so strongly in the modern day? From novels to film to RPGs and videogames, LA in the 30s and 40s retains a very definite draw - a strong sense that is incredibly rooted in that one city and not generically in the America of the time, or even the California of the epoch. I guess it is a confluence of factors - the glamour of the birth of Hollywood being one of the big ones. In any case, being moved to think of this swept away any negative worries of what the track might be like and firms it up instead as something that I both like, and which might have soundtrack utility in future. Sure there are electronic keyboard tones there that simply didn't exist in the 40s but the overall impression is far more important to its potential re-use than any worries about historical accuracy. This one short paragraph has had me thinking, engaged, for the whole of the piece. As that runs to 11 minutes that means not a lot of words for the time, but it speaks well to the sense of, well, sanctuary that the tune creates: a safe space for the mind to wander freely. I like this tune a lot, and whilst its star fades a little in the closing moments as the too-bright keys take over the sound a little more than I would like I have no hesitation in pronouncing Sanctuary the best of the Bitches' Brew recordings.

Will that be challenged by Feio, our last piece? I suspect not but we'll see. It starts as a very open piece, with lots of quiet layered onto a few longer, drawn out sounds. I rather like it, but it is not instantly catapulting me into another world of thought and inspiration or demanding that I pay it every heed. It is a little too slow, I think. Whilst I like the sense of space it feels like this one is just empty, almost dead. I catch myself not concentrating on the piece - wandering fingers and eyes having pulled up BBC News stories instead. That is not the intent of these posts, but it does illustrate just how little there is going on at any one point in Feio. Whilst the piece is never silent and, to be fair it does have a consistency to it that makes it work as a whole epic, at any given moment there is just not enough there to be interesting and I find myself lulled into a sleepy, bored state. The sounds there are, warm and enveloping, are pleasant its just lacking anything to elevate it from a nice sound to something you'd want to listen to. Then suddenly it is the end and a creepy voice closes it out, a shudder hit me when it spoke up it was so unexpected.

So, not a strong end, and a bit of a wobble in the middle, but overall a vast improvement on the first disc of Bitches' Brew, enough to restore my faith in the purchase and to see why the album was so lauded. Where next is the question.

Bitches Brew (Disc 1) - Miles Davis

Track list:

1. Pharaoh's Dance
2. Bitches Brew

Running time: 47 minutes
Released: 1970

What to say to introduce this? Two epic-length tracks.  So much so that I am not sure I have ever sat and listened to either before, despite the classic status of this album.

It is a soft and low-key start, brushed drums and a distant organ. A bit discordant too. Waffling. Hopefully the piece improves and gains a bit of structure, a few more bold sounds and sommething to hung interest around because my first impressions are not positive. This is supposed to be a classic though; it must have a bit more heft to it later.

It's been an odd week; I have not managed to make good on the promise of last week's return to frequent posts. I took Monday off, and then two evenings of gaming in person (RPG Tuesday, boardgames on  Wednesday) and two of gaming online (Far Cry 4, co-op) wiped out the time available to post. It doesn't feel that long since my last effort, but it is. Time flies, eh? Whilst I bemoan that, and Japan take a commanding lead over Samoa in the rugby, the Pharaoh's Dance has sprung into a little more life. Not a great deal, but some. It was welcome but I cannot help but feel this is just random musings, the wanderings of a stupid improv session rather than considered genius. As I approach the half-way mark on the first of the pair I have yet to find a theme to latch onto, anything that binds my attention and asks me to appreciate it. This may turn out to be a short post because the lack of tracks mean there is less cohesiveness to discuss.

Look - there are nice moments and movements buried in these pieces but it feels like a slog wading through everything else to get to them. The whole thing feels very dated, aging poorly and worse with every second. I can certainly see that something like this was once avant garde and of genuine interest because of that, but it feels tired, directionless and clichéd now, the epitome of what people would point to and sneer at for being jazz - structure-less and never-ending. Moments lost in the sea of irrelevance. It's a real shame for me, because finally as the track closes there is a real theme that I like, Davis' trumpet carrying a fair amount of weight. It's just too little too late as it comprises maybe the last couple of minutes of the Dance. Whether something better is brewing up for the second part - half as long again as the first - remains to be seen.

It is a bolder start, stronger sounds. However it is also disjointed, and when one set of sounds is completely jetissoned after about 3 minutes and replaced with another, much softer set it feels like a bait-and-switch. More life to it though, even in the softness. There is a more considered air to things which goes a long way - it doesn't feel directionless even if the change up was rather abrupt. The rhythm, I think that is what sets Bitches Brew on a higher plane than the Pharaoh's Dance. Something about the percussion is more compelling, something about how it survives whilst other sounds fade in and out keeps a thread running. There are still breaks in that thread though, clean tears that separate different sections of the piece from each other. This works to cut up the length into smaller chunks and ideally these would have been track breaks, allowing each section to be appreciated for what it is rather than forcing it into some unwieldy whole. I rather like the sections so far as the track hits halfway, but my patience for listening to them all right through in future is probably not there. If they were in practice the shorter 3-5 minute variations that they appear to be in the actual composition then I would happily sit and enjoy many of them.

It's all gone very quiet. There's a lot of busy little staccato sound going on, but all rather soft. This feels like regression, back to the meandering of Pharaoh's Dance. Its the first part of the title track I have not enjoyed in some way and it comes nearing the 20 minute mark. Just such a shame it's all one thing. Even as this phase strains my patience there are bits an pieces to like in there, just like in Dance. It feels like it is dragging on a bit now though and could do with another injection of theme and life as we enter the final stages. I am shivering cold, despite the thermostat reading above 20, and at this point am looking forward to the piece ending so I can shiver and wrap myself warm rather than sit arms-out typing. That reason is secondary to the dirge-like air that the tune has chosen to end on, piercing trumpet cries screaming out over a bleak landscape as the silence draws in.

Well that was disappointing. Anything but classic from my perspective, and the long uninteresting lead out killed any final chance of me wanting to maintain Bitches' Brew for the earlier movements. Hopefully the second disc will be more appealing.

Birth of the Cool - Miles Davis

Track list:

1. Move
2. Jeru
3. Moon Dreams
4. Venus De Milo
5. Budo
6. Deception
7. Godchild
8. Boplicity
9. Rocker
10. Israel
11. Rouge
12. Darn That Dream

Running time: 36 minutes
Released: 1957

You know, I had no idea this was a compilation record until I came to write this intro and found out in the course of confirming the release year. Anyhow, this is the first of three consecutive listens devoted to Miles Davis (the two discs of Bitches Brew follow). Unlike the piano, which I think I love because I played as a child, I don't know why I like trumpets so much but when played well they can add interest and depth to many different genres.

As this starts, however, I suspect that this will not be my favourite Davis album. Move has a frenetic feel to it at first, and whilst it settles down a bit it is still miles away from the laid back brilliance of Kind of Blue, which was my entry to Miles Davis' work. There is a pleasing little melody to Jeru, which has a more settled approach than the track before. This is recorded jazz, played for record. No unnecessary solo rotation here - and a cleaner presentation because of it. The tracks are all snappy and short, in total 12 of them clock in at less than 40 minutes which means there is no time for those annoyances.

I am into Moon Dreams already, and this is my favourite to date. Slower, considered and melodic, also a little melancholic. Its like the late night, after-bar walk home in a 40s movie. Its a nice little change of pace and better for the fact it is reverse immediately on the next track, left to stand. There is a nice simplicity to this, piano, bass and drums just laying a platform for the horns to wander. The faster the track, the more it veers towards a caricature of jazz. Horns all over the place, less structure than a tent after a storm and all that. For all that jazz is mocked for being all over the place, it is generally better when there is more to it than improvisations and grandstanding. The slower pieces have more definite composition and this helps them shine.

I will say, though, that I would rather not be sat listening to this now. Nothing against the music, simply more that it not the genre I would chose on a sunny Sunday afternoon / early evening. It also doesn't soundtrack the silent rugby match I have half an eye on well, however it was next on the list and - though short - completing it is another step towards getting back to the frequency of posting that I would like to. I feel severely under-qualified to comment on the merits of the music I am hearing here. I would not put money on my ability to tell one style of jazz from another, and for all that this supposedly represents the birth of "cool jazz" I have little frame of reference to distinguish it from the bebop it succeeded. 

Occasionally the clarity of Davis' trumpet kicks up a notch, a brighter, cleaner sound every now and again. These moments catapult me out of a lethargy with a piercing jolt before I adjust to the swing and sound of the current track again and a foggy mind reasserts itself.  Mostly I am enjoying this, but there are odd moments that I find myself thinking that a particular elaboration was not needed, or a given trill is out of place. However I cannot get excited about the disc and its contents, as can probably be told from the general tone of the post. After the opening I have hardly spoken about specifics, and now as we approach the end I look up and find how little I have put down in the time. Yes, the album runs short, but it is a sign that my mind has lacked clarity of purpose - a bit like some of the faster, freer lines carried by the brass.

 

Darn that Dream ends us, and it surprises me by being a song. I have no idea who is singing (I can't imagine it is Davis), but their voice is interesting - not great, not bad either. Carrying the tune in a strange half-and-half way. The backing is slow, staid and frankly uninteresting. There is a trumpet melody leading it, but it is so-so and does not sparkle. The song also appears to have little to it, and an infuriatingly long last syllable brings it to a close on a sour note. The rest of the disc was fine - better when it was slower, but reasonable at all times. Now it has finished it is farcically silent here and I feel like I just woke up. Darn that dream indeed.

Beyond the Blue Horizon - George Benson

Track list:

1. So What
2. The Gentle Rain
3. All Clear
4. Ode To A Kudu
5. Somewhere In The East
6. All Clear (Alternate Take)
7. Ode To A Kudu (Alternate Take)
8. Somewhere In The East (Alternate Take)

Running time: 54 minutes
Released: 1971

What to say about this one? Well, it was part of the big box of 25 classic jazz albums that already spawned one of the first few posts on these pages.

For some reason I have long laboured under the misconception that George Benson played Matt 'Guitar' Murphy in The Blues Brothers (soundtrack listen here) but, true to form with the other band members in that film, that was... Matt Murphy. I don't, therefore, have any real frame of reference for Benson, so the introduction on this boils down to: almost an hour long in runtime, but actually only half that because of the repetition. First impressions, therefore, aren't that positive. Lets see what actual exposure makes of it.

We start, surprisingly with a bass/drums combo that reminds me of something specific that is on the tips of my fingers but not coming to mind; doh! Look at the track name. I was expecting it to be all straight in with the guitar lead. That takes a bit longer to show up, and arguably is secondary to the structure and even the melody provided by some form of organ for the first couple of minutes.  Frankly this is a really poor rendition of So What, but then anything would be. Miles Davis' piece is a masterwork; Benson's interpretation is a mugging. The majesty of the piece simply goes missing without the understatement of the original arrangement. The soft, perfectly timed interjections. None of that is present here and whilst the strains of the tune come through here and there the overall effect is more muddled and seems to prioritise the wrong things at the wrong time. The classic call/response is murdered by moving it to a fast pinging guitar and a harsh organ blast and the rest just fails to ignite. When if fades out after 9 minutes I am still shaking my head as to how that can happen.

We move onto the only other track that is on this album once. The Gentle Rain is also 9 minutes long, quite possibly also a cover, but at least is not a destruction of something I am familiar with. Its light twangy guitar and faux-tropical rhythms are pretty much a perfect encapsulation of a certain type of cheese and at least this feels like it fits together right. The guitar really is the star here, everything else fitting around it. Alas the mediocre swing and stereotyped approach wear thin before the track is half done, the constancy of the bongos boring its way into my brain in most unwelcome fashion. At least a keyboard comes along to rival the primacy of the guitar but it is all in the same vein and I think this sort of thing was out of style when it first arrived. I wonder to what extent this will be typical of the three repeated tracks; I suspect quite a large one.

I would go so far as to suggest that tracks like this are probably part of the reason that jazz was seriously uncool by the time I was born (the other part being the bonkers interpretation that all jazz is completely improvised atonal sonic mess). Its just so... uninspiring.

All Clear is a little brighter in sound but still unmistakably from the same school. There are no bongos (thank heavens!) and the percussion is less bad cruise movie music as a result, but in their place we have a cheese-laden organ part and some weird applications of strings or other backing sounds. I think these are employed with a similar effect - if not in mind, then in achievement. The whole desert island poolside cocktail bar image, crappy fake floral necklaces and bad Hawaiian shirts. I cannot take this seriously at all, and cannot enjoy it. The guitar is the epitome of playing with itself; and I have to listen to this track again?

I am seriously tempted to stop the listen before the retreads occur, but that would be against the spirit of the exercise; curse my sense of propriety, but who knows, maybe the alternate takes are genius.

Ode to a Kudu at least has the good sense to be short. It is a much softer number, more like a background hum to a quiet clinch, when the rest of the world ceases to matter for a few moments and almost fades out. Not that I would remember what that actually feels like. This track is bearable though and has a cadence that is remarkably pleasant given everything that I have typed in this post to date. Then it is past.

Oh no, the bongos are back evoking less of the east and more of Africa. A squirty, skew-whiff guitar is layered on top. It is a really odd combination that simply doesn't work. I think the worst offenders on these tracks are, in no sort of order, the bongo, the harshness of the organ sound, and the unnaturally bright sparkly air to the guitar. It's all too... clean and shiny. It just re-enforces that non-stick music for hallways, hangouts and elevators feel. There is nothing with any edge to get caught on. No roughness to rub up against - it all just slides right off, all sounding similar and leaving me feeling as though it only exists to fill time.

Time - today has been an odd one. Family time, solo time, time-rewinding magical girl time (Life is Strange starts... interestingly. Not sold on it story-wise yet as it reinforces a lot of my distaste for American High School stories, but characterisation has been improving and the central conceit is interesting enough). Now I feel like my life is on repeat as the alternate takes begin. I think All Clear is less objectionable second time around, but I still sense this is music for people who don't like music. I think I got that phrase from a friend who is no more who used it more pejoratively than is my intent here. I simply mean that it is so bland that there can be no objection, and so it must be perfect for soundtracking fondue parties with bad porn mustaches and flared suits. A child of its time, but perhaps out of step even then.

Yes, I'm talking out of my behind here, but crafting ridiculously stereotyped images of the reception of this disc in the 70s beats actually trying to describe the same things over again as reprises emerge from my speakers. To be fair, I think the alternate takes are better than the originals, significantly so. Almost listenably so. I may even like the redone Ode to a Kudu despite the extra minute added to its length. The guitar is still too spangly and self-congratulating but the subtleties of the percussion and strings in the background are handled really nicely and they draw my ear away from the central theme enough to appreciate the track.

The same cannot be said for Somewhere in the East. If anything the guitar feels more out of place here than before and, unforgivably, the track now pushes towards 10 minutes. Repeated organ chords join the hand-drums in providing elements that build up to my annoyance and everything that was wrong with the initial take of this track seems recaptured here in the only way that could move it from so plain it is bland to just plain bad. It is safe to say I am relieved as the piece finally reaches the (ghastly) conclusion it builds towards and the disc ends. Not a good one, this.

Bending New Corners - Erik Truffaz

Track list:

1. Sweet Mercy
2. Arroyo
3. More
4. Less
5. Siegfried
6. Bending New Corners
7. Betty
8. Minaret
9. Friendly Fire
10. And

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 1999

I picked this up after discussions on an internet forum with a French jazz-lover; I think I had to order it, and the other album of Truffaz's that I bought at the same time, from Amazon.fr because it wasn't listed on the UK site. Oddly WMP had it listed as 2003 but in looking up the album details for the image and caption I find that is actually earlier than that, so change made! I remember that Truffaz is a trumpeter but not much more and I have not really paid any attention to his music in years so I am a little unsure of what I will find here.

I like the snappy titling - no pretentiously long-winded track names here - but do they gel with the music they refer to? Time to see.

We open with bass and drums before some electronic sounds and Truffaz's trumpet join in. This is late night sounds at mid-afternoon when until just now it has been a blazingly good day, blue skies and warming sun. Ah, shopping in suburban Athens this morning. I remember this a bit now - English vocals delivered as a low-key rap. Along with the intro this exhibits why I think genre-typing music is a fools game; jazz can be a sibling to almost anything on the spectrum. In truth, I am not certain the trumpet adds much to Sweet Mercy, and given it is Truffaz's name on the disc that's a disappointment. I rather like its lounging mood though.

Pace is picked up a bit as the track shifts, and the sound and the title of the second tune makes me think of Miles Davis and Sketches of Spain. I guess, to their chagrin, most jazz trumpeters get compared to Davis in some way. I haven't listened to Spain in a long time (I do have it) so I am not really in a position to compare the tracks; it probably sounds nothing like this in any way, but I am reminded of it all the same. There is some funky underlay on this track, which is a better overall integration of the quartet and far more appropriate for a nice southern European day. I am doing this listen on the penultimate day of my holiday in the lazy afternoon; it seemed right somehow - though really I should be conjuring up some nice images of rural England and Wales to use in my Albion game whilst snoozing on a chair outside. I might do that next!

No, I think there is something Davis-like about the playing here even if I cannot pin it to a specific track or album. Something about the smoothness of the notes kindling thoughts of Kind of Blue, perhaps? Not sure, but the moment is passed and More has a muted strangle over a very sparse arrangement, kinda creepy but in an interesting way. The structure relies more on the drums and its interplay with a more subtle bass, very light with minimal, quiet and considered placement around that from the trumpet and electronics. I like this a lot after the rather odd opening; there are still undertones of oddity around the core, mystic edges, like mist rising from marshy grass, obscuring something behind (nope - used that already!) but the piece as a whole overrides that with a late night drive vibe - lighted strips, top down. From More to Less; will it live up to its name? More felt pretty light and sparse in places so Less would have to be more if this really is going to have less to it... I know, that sentence makes no sense.

This really is a light drum and bass track for its first minute and more - I love stuff on that blurred boundary, with trumpet in place of husky vocals and a volume more befitting comfort than throwing shapes. Comfort is what I find a lot of jazz to be about - not taxing to listen to, great backing for just about any activity. I can never understand those myriad people who simply dismiss jazz as if it is all incomprehensible improvisation with no structure or organisation. It's just music and there is good and bad examples everywhere however you like to categorise your music. Keys have taken on a little more work now, and as a result we get a relaxing stroll of a piece. Again the trumpet is oddly quiet, sidelined, for a lot of the number. So far it has felt more of a group effort than a star with backing.

The title track brings back the rap, with a bit more pace and intent this time, the percussion driving it along, and everything else carried along with it. This is nice soft and warm background music and there is a really strong temptation to treat it as such - divert my attention to other things I mean, rather than keeping score here. Partly that is not having much immediately come to mind that I haven't said already, partly it is the natural wandering of a mind over the period of an hour or so and only a small part of it is genuinely influenced by the music itself if I am honest. Sun is back out now, and I kinda want to escape to enjoy it... but leaving things half done will get me nowhere.

Oh, that's a nice switch. A gentle horn-led ramble now, keys backing it up and the drums and bass, which have dominated many of the tracks are distinctly relegated to support on this occasion. The track, Betty, evokes memories and images of the past, an effect which is doubtless stronger because of its placement after several tracks that owe more to 90s electronica than to the previous 5 decades of jazz history. It is a short piece though, and soon replaced by a haunting trumpet opening Minaret, evoking a call to prayer perhaps. Stylistically this is less Miles Davis and more Nils Petter Molvær - to name another trumpeter that I am familiar with. The track - I would say tune, but there is not much of one, is built around this muted wail and a strong drum backing, an interesting pattern which at one point (and maybe more to come) is broken up by musicality breaking through. It's weird... I am not sure how I feel about the track, 6 minutes long and not very tuneful yet somehow compelling and able to maintain interest for the whole length.

Another switch up with Friendly Fire also harking back to more traditional structures. Call-response between the trumpet and keys, backed by the percussion and bass, and with a few words sprinkled in. It is a bit kitsch given everything else - not nearly as well executed as Betty - and I am rather relieved when it ends and And starts. The final track echoes Minaret with its haunting wail of an opening from Truffaz's instrument, then drums and bass kick in. This is a 10 minute effort so I hope that they bring the interest to keep it moving....

Uh-oh. Just as I type that around the 2.15 mark there's a "bong" sound (part of the recording) and it all goes quiet. Stupid dead air outro time? Seems likely as by 3.15 it is still silent. Sigh - and it was all going so well.

The sound comes back around the 5 minute mark, Trumpet calling plaintively, lost and alone until some key-chords join the call. It is a little shivery alone in the dark type moment - or it would be if it weren't so bright out, and I couldn't hear the sounds of my dad playing Civ IV in the other room. This secret track is a bit of a mess; it has now developed some life, but the rhythm is reminiscent of a bad 80s disco and the structures and tones around it aren't much better.

It is a really disappointing end to what had been a pleasantly good album to that point, if one where I am not sure you would identify the trumpeter as the band leader from the work did you not know it going in.

8:30 - Weather Report

Track List:

1. Black Market
2. Teen Town
3. A Remark You Made
4. Slang
5. In A Silent Way
6. Birdland
7. Thanks For The Memory
8. Badia/Boogie Woogie Waltz Medley
9. 8:30
10. Brown Street
11. The Orphan
12. Sightseeing

Runtime: 71 minutes
Released: 1979

The first album in this library released before I was born, and a primarily live one to boot. My copy (which came in a big bundle of jazz remasters) seems to be missing Scarlett Woman. That might be to do with total running time and getting the album onto a CD but it seems a little odd.

I have hardly listened to any off the jazz discs I got in the collection when I picked this up, and that is remiss of me. However I feel that a lot of older music does not really stand up under a modern appreciation: only the best media transcends its time and we see that with badly dated films all the time. Black Market's spangly sound makes me think that I might be right to worry for this.,  Fusion is nothing if not of its time. A specific reaction to and progression from the jazz and electric roots it draws from. As I type, I seem to have encountered the obligatory saxophone solo. I hate the culture of "every player needs their solo" that seems pervasive in jazz; often it will strike in the middle of what is otherwise a fantastic collective piece and (for me) completely ruin the mood. It doesn't seem from first impressions that Weather Report left that staple out. Darn it.

I am noticing that long tracks make this enterprise harder. They are great when you get into them and lose yourself in 9 minutes of musical magic, because the time flies by before you notice. However when their impression is not so strong, and I am trying to actively listen, capture and comment, I find myself with an awful lot of time to think about what I am writing... which probably makes the result less organic and less interesting. I quite like Teen Town though. It is funky enough to keep me nodding my head and look forward to the listens of Stanley Clarke albums later should I keep going to "S" (that will be years away if so). It is also busy enough over the bass to draw me in. Do like.

I do not remember where I got my start in jazz. I remember my parents had Brubeck's Time Out (also due to appear much later in the billing) and I think i must have fallen for it then. Miles Davis cemented it; Kind of Blue appeared on so many seminal album lists that I picked up a copy in my teens and my jazz library grew from there. I find it interesting that I managed to do this, because in many ways jazz suffers from the same problems as classical in terms of accessibility and good purchasing decisions go - a direct result of the lack of mainstream media attention. I struggle to find new interesting jazz purchases to this day, but yet I managed to build up a reasonable library of stuff - from classics to contemporaries, though admittedly the odd box set (like this came in) helped there.

I like that A Remark You Made changes the tone completely - slower, softer, smoother. It is not in itself massively interesting, but it speaks to variation which is a positive. Slang is back to the funkier end of things but in a sparse kind of way that I can approve of. The album is growing on me.


As I try to sit back with my beer (Hook Norton Brewery's Twelve Days - their Christmas ale, but apparently my case will not keep long enough!) and listen, my mind wanders... today should have been a day of social gaming... online Bloodbowl in the league I play in followed by in person boardgames. They both fell through and I'm not too sad about that. Instead I got to play some more Divinity: Original Sin co-op with a friend, and whilst the game is getting more frustrating (imitating all sorts of bad GMing) it's good to spend time with T before I go see him in Stockholm in a couple of weeks; its 10 years since we last met up. Also been X-Comming again just days after I threw my controller in disgust. PC is less prone to suddenly putting me somewhere I did not want to be. I mention all this, because it is also what freed me up to do this listen; had I been out this afternoon as originally planned, I doubt I would be here with a pre-dinner drink to pay attention to this album which I am definitely now liking more than I was expecting to. Sure, some of the sounds are a little cheesy for a 2014 ear but there is love there... you can hear it in the crowd's applause.

I have hit a slow number. I wish I had a snack; I have not yet eaten this evening and the sedate pace of the current work has me thinking about dinner... chorizo burgers, tender-stem broccoli and whatever else I can scrape together to go with. I'm running low on food choices; with a west-facing kitchen it is not pleasant cooking in the full evening sun (a problem that will go away soon, now the evenings are shortening noticeably) so I have taken to sandwiches and the like. I am out of bread though, and in need of a proper meal. Shopping can wait; I have enough to cobble up a tasty accompaniment. The middle of this disc is a little here-and-there, a bit of this, bit of that. It does not feel like it hangs together well.

Wow. The title track starts oddly - a pastiche of folk music, a radio announcer with a British accent and a noisy mess - before it gives way to something more recognisable and reasonable, only to end before it really began. Man, the 70s must have been weird.

I am in the home straight now - Brown Street is the last long one. Pleasant enough I guess, but the bass/percussion combo puts me in mind of a bored wedding disco band rather than musicians enjoying their jobs. Cross that with a hint of pre-Faltermeyer synth heroics (seriously, it is only a step away from Beverley Hills Cop in places, or is that me projecting?) and it leaves me confused. I have to say that (hyperbolically speaking) what sounds like synth-derived steel drums is probably one of the worst sins of the electronic age. I am into the non-live tracks and they have less energy than the live ones. I think I am ready for the listen to end before the disc has run out... I have dinner to get, after all.

Here we go then, last track. Sightseeing should, generally, be a pleasant experience and, for me, a sedate one. The track is not sedate enough for the name. I do not really have any more to add, and now neither do Weather Report... so we meander to an unfulfilling end, just like the album. Seriously - go listen to Sightseeing then tell me you think that is a good end to an hour-plus long ouevre.