Pat Metheny Unity Group at Ann Arbor’s Michigan Theater

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On Monday evening I was fortunate enough to see Pat Metheny‘s Unity Group at Ann Arbor’s Michigan Theater. I had originally waffled on whether or not to attend for various personal reasons – none of which were a lack of interest – but a last-minute invitation from my new friend (and longtime fellow tweeter) Mark Jacobson kept me from missing out on a top notch performance. (Thank you again, Mark!)

I’ve been a fan of Metheny’s for a number of years but I’m by no means a completist. (Although, everything I have of his I quite like.) His current ensemble, the Pat Metheny Unity Group, is the quintet incarnation of the four-piece Pat Metheny Unity Band, which I saw at the 2012 Detroit Jazz Festival. The Band consists of Metheny, saxophonist Chris Potter, bassist (and fellow Spartan) Ben Williams, and drummer Antonio Sanchez, with the Group adding multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Giulio Carmassi. 2012’s self-titled Pat Metheny Unity Band is a really solid and often hard-driving jazz quartet album, including a little orchestrion treatment here and there. The Group, however, which just released Kin, explores vastly more sonic terrain. What was a quartet is now a five-piece orchestra, with the orchestrion regularly and tastefully integrated, and Carmassi providing varying instruments and textures. (Full disclosure: I hadn’t yet picked up Kin despite my intending to, but I surely will after seeing Monday’s show.)

The Michigan Theater’s vibe had more in common with a rock show than jazz, between the orchestrion-adorned stage and Metheny’s ecstatic fans. Kicking off Monday’s 2h45m set was, as Metheny described, an “opening set” of just the quartet, which features Band tunes “Come and See,” “Roofdogs,” and “New Year.” Don’t let the “diminished” forces fool you, though, as it’s a burning quartet. Potter and Metheny are intense, melodic powerhouses, with Williams and Sanchez providing and nimble but deep and grooving pocket. After about 40 minutes, Metheny addressed the audience and welcomed Carmassi (on piano, vocals, and percussion) to the stage, at which point the Group launched Michigan Theater deep into the sonic cosmos for two hours of exploratory, psychadelic, and at times face-melting jams that transcended genre. The set largely featured material from the new album, and the quintet almost sounded like a completely different ensemble from the quartet. Kin‘s tunes are compositionally more complex than its predecessor (which featured a more “traditional” jazz approach of head-solo-head, etc.), with each piece traversing various themes and textures. Later on in the set, Metheny featured each of his sidemen via an extended duet. His show-stopping and jaw-dropping rendition of Trane’s “Countdown” with Chris Potter was one of the night’s highlights. Like the original Coltrane recording, they waited until the very end to tease the melody, with the preceding minutes causing this saxophonist – and likely all other musicians in attendance – to question his existence and purpose. The Group ended end their main set with a rockin’ “Have You Heard” (sounding great with the added saxophone) followed by a full-band encore “Are You Going With Me” and a solo acoustic encore of an improvised medley of various tunes including “Last Train Home.”

I may not be a Metheny expert, but I’m familiar with his various projects over the years. And, from what I do know, the current PMUG is a near ideal synthesis of Metheny’s catalogue. It not only features new compositions that can be held up to its predecessors, but the band’s intense live sound also includes hints of Pat Metheny Group (especially with the use of voice – one of my favorite Metheny qualities, actually – and thick orchestration) and the Orchestrion Project (though tastefully used as a means and not an end). Shame on me for almost missing out on such a tremendous show. If the Group ends up in your neck of the woods during this year’s mammoth tour, I highly recommend attending. Not to be missed.

Earnestness or Artifice? III

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I’d like to revisit a topic touched on here and here: artistic intention and production. Below is the first half of a two-parter within this series. Two items tie these posts together:
– how each artist claims to feel about his craft.
– neither seem sincere.

This post, and a portion of the next, deal with practicing and rehearsing. As for rehearsing, I’ve been in groups at both edges of the spectrum: some ensembles rehearse meticulously and incessantly (though the two aren’t mutually exclusive), and others almost never rehearse for various legitimate reasons, instead relying on spontaneity and the excitement of the being in the moment while buoyed by foundation of shared history and skill. Sometimes, though, stating that one wants to forgo rehearsing in order to be “in the moment” isn’t entirely honest. Perhaps one just prefers not losing a Tuesday evening to a rehearsal. The same can be said of solitary practice. We musicians have all been there at one point or another. And I’ve definitely played in groups with people who’ve just said something to the effect of, “Eh, we’ll be good. I’d rather us sound too new than too rehearsed.” Of course, that can be performer-speak for, “I want to go home.” For an example of being disingenuous in this arena, let’s turn to Kelsey Grammer.

Television’s Dr. Frasier Crane, M.D. & Ph.D.? Yes, that one; but specifically the Kelsey Grammer of Frasier‘s tenure, not that of Cheers, Boss, etc. (And I’m only discussing him as a performer. He’s another in a long line of artists whose work must be assessed separately from their personal lives.) While he’s not a musical figure – at least not as much as Dr. Crane – he’s a performer and offers a particularly illuminating example that translates well to musical rehearsal and attitudes.

Frasier is one of my all-time favorite shows. (If you’re curious, it’s behind Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Ally McBeal, and alongside John From Cincinnati and Fringe.) I’ve long been a fan, having watched the original run after Cheers. This isn’t a post to champion the show, but suffice it to say that it’s funny and features a strong cast. And, for the classical music-inclined, particularly in opera, the various references and allusions are quite entertaining. The characters portrayed by Grammer and David Hyde Pierce, and the relationship between to the two, are one of the program’s crown jewels.

As I’m wont to do when interested in a show or movie, I’ve spent more than my fair share of time in the past reading about the actors behind the characters, especially concerning their other credits, training (if applicable), and performance methods/quirks. I’ve long been fascinated with Grammer’s seemingly unique – in the truest sense of the word – acting method: “requisite disrespect.” He’s discussed it in some interviews (here and here), notably during Frasier‘s run, and in an autobiography. In his own words, “If you know what your lines are and you’re over-rehearsed, you’re not thinking anymore; you’re an automaton…So, I do myself a favor. I raise the stakes by making it real borderline that I know that I’m going to say. So, there’s a slightly wildeyed kind of energy when we tape [an episode].”

My initial reaction when I first read that was “Wow.” For me, it put a number of my favorite scenes and deliveries in an entirely new perspective. And for the most part I was quite impressed. However, moving on to a more objective assessment, I then realized the extent that which that really freed up his schedule. (This is rightly mentioned in the LA Times article.) While the rest of the cast and crew slogs through each week of finalizing, blocking, and rehearsing a new episode, Grammer need only appear on the night of the taping, “learning” each scene’s lines right before filming. On the one hand, it must’ve sucked to have been a guest star or co-star. On the other, more power to him. He acted well and managed to earn an eight-figure salary without rehearsing. While his co-stars somewhat endorse his methodology by talking about the on-set excitement and amazement, it’s worth noting that many of the co-stars seem to have close off-screen relationships with one another that often don’t include Grammer.

So why am I going on and on about this? Well, for starters, it’s my blog and I love Frasier. More importantly, though, the fact that Grammer burns calories actively describing his “method” of requisite disrespect is rather impressive in a sense. Instead of avoiding the topic, fibbing about rehearsing more, or just saying that he’s the star and doesn’t need to rehearse, he instead opts to label and therefore legitimize his tactics. And yet, if you’re to find another star that subscribes to the same approach using the same jargon, good luck. He’s the only one, so far as I can tell. What’s more, his methodology’s glory days coincided perfectly with his starring in his own television show, dominating prime time television for years. He doesn’t seem to reference using it when playing the same character on Cheers. And I don’t think he did it for Boss (another convincing portrayal, if I may say so). In fact, in a 2009 interview on the Adam Carolla Podcast, Dave Koechner glowingly described Grammer’s professionalism and preparedness when shooting a TV pilot (one that would’ve ostensibly put Grammer back on the map after Frasier‘s end). Curious, eh? Look, I’m a fan and I’ll watch anything he’s in, but a little less hot air is welcome.

MTH-V: Keith Jarrett Trio Live in Antibes

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I’m rather dumbfounded to realize that Keith Jarrett hasn’t yet received a dedicated post here. He’s one of my all-time favorites, and his jazz and classical recordings occupy significant real estate in my collection (including the elusive Sun Bear Concerts box set, which was a nice find last year in Munich). I haven’t done one of these video posts in a while, and what better way to resurrect the series than with someone whose career enjoyed a resurrection of sorts around 2000 (after a bout with chronic fatigue syndrome).

I first knowingly heard Jarrett’s playing when an excerpt from The Köln Concert popped up on an internet radio station (AccuRadio?) while I was doing homework at my apartment in college. I was taken with the music and jotted down the album info. I later learned of Jarrett specifically (i.e., could identify the name and face) through his work with Miles Davis, then realizing it was the pianist I had heard online. Years later I first heard him as a leader on a friend’s copy of Bye Bye Blackbird, which prompted me to get my first Jarrett album, Up For It, in 2006. Up For It remains a perennial favorite thanks to the renditions of “Scrapple from the Apple” and “Autumn Leaves.” That quickly led me down the rabbit hole of his voluminous discography. I’ve been fortunate enough to see him four times – twice solo and twice with the trio – since 2007, all of them at Orchestra Hall in Chicago.

I’ll admit I can be a bit of a fanboy, but I’m also able to know when “Keith’s being Keith.” He’s notoriously prickly, even when being sentimental (e.g., his NEA acceptance speech). And, for the uninitiated, the vocalizing and gyrating are more than distracting. (After getting used to his “distractions,” I don’t hear most of the utterances unless I really listen for them.) That being said, his phrasing and musicality are second to none, and, like Miles, one’s better off to just focuses on the music instead of the man. As for his phrasing, he claims to be more influenced by horn players than pianists, hence his regular emphasizing monodic lines.

I could pontificate about Keith Jarrett all day, so I’ll reel it in. In short, Jarrett’s output has been dominated the last 30 years by two main avenues: solo improvised recitals and his Standards Trio with Gary Peacock and Jack DeJohnette, seen below. The trio, so named for their extensive exploration of The Great American Songbook (as well as collective improvisation, but next to no original compositions), formed in 1983 for a recording date at the suggestion of Manfred Eicher. They recorded three albums at the session, and the rest is history. Especially after three decades, the ensemble is arguably telepathic – always different and consistently great. If I may, their renditions of “A Sleepin’ Bee” and “Stella By Starlight” on 2009’s Yesterdays are perfect and my two favorites by the group.

Part of why Jarrett hasn’t yet had a video post is that it’s difficult to find non-copyrighted video of he or the trio online. However, here’s a video of the French broadcast from the 1986 Juan Les Pins Jazz Festival in Antibes, France (where Up For It was recorded in 2002). The whole performance is on YouTube in four parts, and I recommend it if you have the time and interest. It’s a nice hidden gem. The below video is the opening number (and my favorite standard), “Stella by Starlight.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNpQsBXioXY

 

New Listen: Scent of Soil’s ‘Scent of Soil’

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scentofsoil

Artist: Scent of Soil
Album: Scent of Soil (2011, HUBRO Music)

I’ve had Scent of Soil‘s self-titled album on repeat for the last week, and I don’t foresee that ending anytime soon. As is the case with most “New Listen” entries, this album is new for me but itself a couple years old. Shame on me for not finding it sooner. One of my initial thoughts during my maiden listen was: Where has this album been all my life?

Hyperbolic? Not by much. The band’s self-titled debut scratches me right where I itch. As mentioned in my last post, I was fortunate enough to meet and talk with Tore Brunborg after the recent Tord Gustavsen Quartet performance in Chicago. I’ve been quite a fan of Brunborg in particular for a few years now, following his work with various ECM artists as well as his work as a leader. Unfortunately, at the time of our meeting I hadn’t yet dug into Scent of Soil, his rock-meets-jazz hybrid project with vocalist Kirsti Huke. I corrected that a couple days later and remain under the album’s spell.

Scent of Soil is fusion in the truest sense of the word. This isn’t simply a rock album with sax and keys, or a jazz band playing straight eighths, but instead a quintet of top-shelf musicians synthesizing their various backgrounds and strengths to serve the music. It’s rare to hear such a balance between the rock and jazz (and more) aesthetics, especially when dealing with songs. In that regard, the band reminds me of the one and only Joni Mitchell. It’s not that they sound like Joni, but rather the spirit of what they’re doing is reminiscent of her. (Though songs such as “Trøndervise” have airs of The Hissing of Summer Lawns and Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter.) Given all that and my own dual-comfort in rock and jazz worlds, this album seems tailor-made for me. Granted I started out with an initial bias because of my fondness for Tore’s playing, but I love this album for reasons far nobler than any fanboy notions.

Scent of Soil are fronted by Brunborg and Huke, who both wrote the music and lyrics and also play keys on top of their primary instruments of saxophone and voice, respectively. Filling out the lineup are guitarist Petter Vågan, bassist Rune Nergaard, and drummer/percussionist Gard Nilssen. Though that may seem like a “Brunborg/Huke + band” arrangement, this is indeed a group effort, with the rhythm section creating not only a solid foundation but also a variety of textures and soundworlds in which the songs come alive. Petter Vågan’s electric, acoustic, and steel guitars provide much more than harmony and melody, but also walls of sound ranging from ambient to arena- and noise-rock. Nergaard and Nilssen are a strong yet tasteful rhythm section. Looking at the resumes of each of the musicians, one may expect the bass and drums to wander and showboat, but they both stick together and lay it down the grooves right where they belong: in the pocket. The music and lyrics for these nine selections are original, save for some adapted text for “Breeze” and “Necklaces” by Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, respectively.

Musically, the album appears to be divided into three parts, each with three songs. “Breeze” begins the album beautifully. Flowing acoustic guitar arpeggios and vocals are supported by an ambient layer of bass and electric guitar. Eventually the full band kicks in to a dreamy half-time groove, continuing the ambience throughout, the layer of which is all that’s left standing once the drums, voice, and horn fade die away. This opening song is a warm bath drawing the listener in for a wondrous journey. Once lulled, a toe-tapping-but-calm groove from the drums and bass kick-start “Ocean,” with the electric guitar now providing a shimmering ambient layer for the rest of the rhythm section. With the hazy vocals and treated horns, It’s a groove finding its way through a fog, finding the clear halfway through. with Tore’s (and the album’s) first real solo, leading to danceable pop rock. Thought it builds some, the band saves their energy for, oddly enough, “Ease.” A ballad-esque 6/8 from the bass and drums is accompanied by muted, whale-like guitar bellows. During the second verse, this song builds as Tore begins to soar, giving way to a four-on-the-floor groove that really unleashes the band for the first time, including fast sax runs, high and fast guitar, and additional layers of keys and guitars. Coming full circle, the 6/8 returns at the climax, allowing the tension to gradually deflate.

“Necklaces” is an unexpected palette cleanser after the rock trajectory of the previous songs, beginning the more meditative second act. It features some lovely percussion work by Nilsson, including brushes and bowed cymbals. That, coupled with the mildly dissonant harmonic backdrop of bass, guitar, and keys, offer a haunting setting for Huke’s adaptation of Dickinson’s Summer Shower. “Trøndervise” is a wordless number in which Brunborg’s compositional and melodic skills shine through. His horn and Huke’s vocables float above the rhythm section’s staccato, almost tribal groove and Vågan’s acoustic work. “Floating” is another slow 6/8 number, though much more intense than “Ease” (and without the meter change). To use a recent reference from a few entries back, the slow intensity reminds me of the intro to Zwan’s “Mary Star of the Sea” – not a “rocking” tempo, but definitely a rocking intensity. (Gilsson’s not as manic as Chamberlin on the drums, but the overall vibe is there.)

“Bin” offers another reset of sorts, with light percussion and guitar harmonies and vocals (and eventually the full band) slowly building to a gently joyous ending. Just like Sisyphus, however, the crescendo gives way to the rhythmic but quiet guitar/sax ostinato that begins “Go Charm!” After about 90 seconds of light groove, the drums, guitar, and then bass introduce cacophony out of time, finally finding a pocket over which to let the band unleash their inner arena-rock stars circa 1995. Brunborg and Vågan battle it out before Huke returns to close the song. I want to don a pair of old Dr. Marten’s at the end of this number, and that’s a complement. The album then ends with the title track (which is also the name of the band, putting them in elite company alongside Black Sabbath). “Scent of Soil” is another slow burn that gradually builds upon itself, this time over an organic 7/4. Tore unleashes one final, full-throated solo before the final verse and the slowly-decompressing outro which fades into silence, gently bringing the whole work full circle.

Unintentionally, this turned out to be a much longer “New Listen” than the others, but this album is definitely worthy. A big reason for that is simply my enthusiasm for this great release. I also want to get this album in front of some more eyes and ears, as its little-known, at least here in the US. The band calls this “boundary-defying music,” and it’s most certainly that. Elements of rock (pop, indie, and otherwise), jazz, and more experimental elements combine to yield a compelling but accessible collection of original songs. Despite the partial jazz billing, the solos are limited defined, with the overall focus being the songs themselves. And the songs are great – catchy, musically interesting, and aging well through repeated listens. The whole is much greater than the sum of the parts here, and each of those parts offered a high bar to start with. Scent of Soil is a solid debut from a group I want to hear more of.

Album Links:
HUBRO (record label)
iTunes
Amazon

Tord Gustavsen Quartet at Chicago’s Constellation

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“Meditative” and “liturgical.” Those were pianist Tord Gustavsen‘s whispered descriptions of his impending set at Constellation on Saturday night. He and his quartet – Gustavsen, saxophonist Tore Brunborg, bassist Mats Eilertsen, drummer Jarle Vespestad – brought their intimate Nordic jazz to the small but attentive capacity crowd. The performance was part of a five city promotional tour of the US in support of the recently released Extended Circle, an album I highly recommend.

The band’s ~75-minute set featured material from the quartet’s two albums Extended Circle and The Well along with earlier Gustavsen selections from Restored, Returned and Being There. Gustavsen and his band have a very stark approach on record, and I was curious how that would translate to a live setting. I’m pleased to report that it did so perfectly. The small venue and low lighting complemented the band’s restraint. It took until the set’s final number (before the encore), “Eg Veit I Himmerik Ei Borg,” for them to reach a semblance of forte, and in doing so provided a welcome release – and relief! – after the long, simmering slow burn. The set was a series of peaks and valleys, with each peak slightly higher than the last until the zenith during “Eg Veit…” I very much appreciated the group’s restraint – not once did it feel forced. Subtle intensity, Gustavsen’s specialty, is often more difficult to achieve than via the usual “high-fast-loud” means, and the band successfully executed it.

Such subtlety was achieved not through dynamics and dissonance alone but also via texture. Brunborg began and ended the evening on soprano (“The Child Within” and “Vicar Street,” respectively), but otherwise played tenor saxophone throughout. However, the tenor/piano/bass/drums instrumentation was exploited to its full potential. Gustavsen tastefully played outside and inside of the piano with great ease, completely avoiding any sense of gimmickry. Eilertsen beautifully played pizzicato and arco, and seeing a jazz bassist use a bow well was a breath of fresh air. Perhaps the MVP in this arena was drummer Jarle Vespestad. His control of his instrument, be it with drumsticks, mallets, brushes, or his hands, was second to none, particularly his cymbal work. I saw it as him approaching his drumset from a percussionist’s perspective instead of a drummer’s. And floating above it all was Tore Brunborg’s golden tone. Wow – I’ve listened to him on a lot of different recordings and none of them prepared me for just how deeply resonant his tenor sound would be in person. The icing on this sonic cake was their touring sound engineer. The amplification was used not to necessarily increased the volume but rather to enhance the live mix and balance, and every sound was crisp and clear.

Each musician basked in the spotlight some throughout the evening, including a couple of unaccompanied piano solos and a bass cadenza. Overall, however, Gustavsen’s music is more conducive to featuring the ensemble as a whole rather than an individual member, as improvised and composed passages seamlessly blend together. The set featured a nice mix of tunes, including “The Child Within,” “Suite,” “The Embrace,” “Glow,” “Eg Veit…,” “Vicar Street,” and others. Similar to the emphasizing of the ensemble as a whole, the individual tunes were less important than the flow of the overall set, which culminated in “Eg Veit…” and then unwound with the encore “Vicar Street.”

I attended this performance with my partner in crime Matt Borghi. Our shared love of ECM aside, this concert was rather special for me personally, as I never thought I’d see Tore Brunborg perform in the US. (And it’s not yet worked out for me to him in Europe.) He’s received some attention on this blog, notably for his work with Manu Katché (in whose band I first heard him), but also a quick reference regarding saxophonists who’ve influenced me. He should get his own full post at some point, as I enjoy his work – both as leader and sideman – but suffice it to say that I’m quite a fan. Furthermore, visiting with the band after the show was a real treat, and it was great to learn that they’re wonderful people as well as top-flight musicians.

If you have the opportunity to see this group, you must certainly take it. 2014 tour details here.

For a taste, here’s the quartet performing “Vicar Street” in 2009: