<\/p>\n
Maybe that\u2019s why, even in a better-than-average year for product, I was drawn to those albums that gave me a bit more of what Marsalis describes as \u201cphysical\u201d or \u201cvisceral\u201d pleasure. I admit that in Larkin\u2019s famous tautology, I still lean a little more towards intelligence-without-beat over beat-without-intelligence. But most of what I choose to venerate this year came close to achieving a balance between the two. The needle\u2019s still stuck at the low end as far as jazz music\u2019s presence in the marketplace is concerned. But maybe some of these will help nudge it a little higher and attract more people who search the clouds, or Cloud, for sounds that both please and challenge. Baby steps, I suppose; dance steps, I hope.<\/p>\n
1.) Ahmad Jamal, \u201cSaturday Morning\u201d (Jazzbook)<\/strong> \u2013 You\u2019re Ahmad Jamal and life right now couldn\u2019t be more satisfying. You\u2019ve outlasted almost all the pianists you\u2019ve influenced since the 1950s who, fairly or not, received more critical approbation than you. You\u2019ve also outlasted most of those critics who either demeaned or second-guessed your popularity and, in any case, never gave you the degree of respect you\u2019ve received from audiences and fellow musicians. In the meantime, you\u2019ve been putting out immaculately crafted recorded product for at least the last three decades. And at 83 years old, you\u2019re playing with even greater vitality, invention and polish, submitting (for our approval) one of the crown jewels of your long career: A sweet-swinging session recorded at the Studio La Buissonne with the attentive support of bassist Reginald Veal and drummer Herlin Riley. As always, your trio keeps time like a handcrafted wristwatch. What broadens the package is the sparkling variety of tempo and mode. You seem even more engaged by the material, even with such familiar should-have-been-classics-long-ago as \u201cThe Line.\u201d And though yours is the last such unit that would need extra percussion, the contributions of Manolo Badrena are seamlessly wired into your rhythm machine. You\u2019re Ahmad Jamal and we\u2019re just about as satisfied with your life right now as you are. (Thank you, Jimmy Cannon and may your own termite artistry soon be rediscovered.)<\/p>\n 2.) Steve Coleman & Five Elements, \u201cFunctional Arrhythmias\u201d (Pi)<\/strong> \u2013And speaking of rhythm machines\u2026First, though, a confession: Over the three or four decades alto saxophonist\/composer Steve Coleman\u2019s M-Base movement has been around, I could never cozy up to it; especially when it seemed intent on fashioning a kind of cerebral funk, as I prefer my funk to be pure and uncut. GIVE IT UP, PEOPLE, FOR BOOTSY\u2019S RUBBER BAAAAAANNNND!!!! But I digress\u2026If Coleman\u2019s aesthetic principles have led to this ultra-sophisticated and fearsomely versatile aggregation of bassist Anthony Tidd, drummer Sean Rickman, guitarist Miles Okazaki and trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson, then I need to rethink, if not revoke, my earlier skepticism. As the titles of both the disc and its contents (e.g. \u201cSinews\u201d, \u201cCerebrum Crossover\u201d, \u201cCardiovascular\u201d) imply, the intent here is to strike a polyrhythmic, harmonically complex connection with human physiology. It\u2019s a smart idea (inspired, as Coleman says, by the example of drummer Milford Graves). But the intelligence behind the concept isn\u2019t as conspicuous as its vigorous application. The band members are locked into each other\u2019s frequencies and their interaction glides, strides, twists and meshes in the same manner as an abstract painting or modern dance piece. Coleman and Finlayson\u2019s front-line conversations have a riveting yin-yang quality that places them at or near the high-end spectrum of such similar sax-horn confabs as Bird and Diz, Trane and Miles and Coleman\u2019s namesake (if not relative) Ornette and Don Cherry. This disc has all the brains, and then some, of Coleman\u2019s body-of-work. But it\u2019s also got an unexpected surplus of — well, you know \u2013 heart.<\/p>\n 3.) Darcy James Argue\u2019s Secret Society, \u201cBrooklyn Babylon\u201d (New Amsterdam)<\/strong> \u2013 Having spent twenty thrilling years inhabiting the Beautiful Borough as it made the awkward, irrepressible leap from hipster incubator to Promised Land, I can testify that one of the many things that fascinate even the most casual Brooklyn bystander is the ongoing tension between its gilded skyscraping aspirations and its wait-till-next-year past lives. This 17-part suite for an 18-piece orchestra conflates Brooklyn\u2019s past, present and (potential) future into what amounts to a steampunk fantasy novel of the mind. Argue\u2019s epic tells the story of a master carpenter named Lev who, in a dystopian future (or alternate present), is commissioned to build a carousel atop a tower whose immensity could obliterate whatever\u2018s left of Brooklyn\u2019s old-soul romance. The music aims as high as that mythical tower and you can feel yourself ascending on its surging waves of energy. But the suite doesn\u2019t just go up; it spreads out to encompass different cultures from Eastern Europe to Latin America to the Middle East, keeping a fingertip or two on all-American swing and\/or rock. You could follow Argue\u2019s story or project one of your own upon its volatile contours. As with the only science fiction that matters, \u201cBrooklyn Babylon\u201d is lavishly hypothetical, strangely familiar and recognizably human in the grandest and grubbiest terms.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 4.) Etienne Charles, \u201cCreole Soul\u201d (Culture Shock)<\/strong> \u2013 Jazz\u2019s grow-or-die imperative has found its most gratifying adherents among 30-and-under musicians willing to use what they\u2019ve learned of the music\u2019s basics as springboards to more adventurous or exotic compounds. Charles, who just turned 30 this year, is a Trinidad-born trumpeter who received much of his education at Florida State and Juilliard and was inspired by the examples set at both institutions respectively by Marcus Roberts and Wynton Marsalis in re-energizing the music\u2019s mainstream traditions. He retains some of Marsalis\u2019 sound in his horn. But it\u2019s the multicultural, polyrhythmic setting of this zesty, spicy gumbo that makes Charles\u2019 music sound like exactly no one else\u2019s. With a formidable array of young instrumentalists and percussionists as backup, Charles immerses himself in the varied strains of Caribbean pop \u2013 reggae, mambo, conga, even Gulf Coast R&B \u2013 to put together an m\u00e9lange of electro-boogie, calypso and funk. Traditionalists can growl, snap and dismiss it all as \u201cslick\u201d pop. But the music they cherish has a far better chance for long-term survival with a sensibility willing to invite Monk (\u201cGreen Chimneys\u201d), Marley (\u201cTurn Your Lights Down Low\u201d) and Bo Diddley (\u201cYou Don\u2019t Love Me\u201d) to the same house party and give each of them the respect and elbowroom they deserve. And, by the way, he also serves up melodies that stick to your head like Post-It notes reminding you what music is for.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 5.) David Weiss, \u201cEndangered Species: The Music of Wayne Shorter\u201d (Motema)<\/strong> \u2013Weiss, who also holds down a trumpeter\u2019s chair here, leads a 12-piece murderer\u2019s row of first-rank instrumentalists that includes trombonist Steve Davis, trumpeter Jeremy Pelt, saxophonists Ravi Coltrane and Tim Green, drummer E.J. Strickland and the incomparable pianist Geri Allen in celebrating the legacy and (though recorded live a year earlier at Dizzy\u2019s Club Coca-Cola) 80th birthday of the Greatest Living Jazz Composer. They do not come to merely pay homage. That would be too much like church and the guy they\u2019re honoring is far from finished. (See below.) Weiss instead leads his cadre on a reconnaissance mission probing the less-heralded (as in least-covered) pieces of the Shorter oeuvre as a means of illuminating its orchestral possibilities. The recital opens your eyes from the jump with \u201cNellie Bly,\u201d which the always-surprising Mr. Weird wrote very early in his career when he was sitting in Maynard Ferguson\u2019s reed section and now comes across as one of the more ornately conceived barn-burners ever lit. Even the most familiar of these selections, the inscrutably haunting ballad \u201cFall,\u201d is given a rich, harmonically-layered treatment that inspires glistening fire-and-ice variations from Allen, Coltrane and, especially, Pelt. As widely acknowledged as Shorter\u2019s writing brilliance has been over generations, it takes a classic setting such as this to reaffirm both the sturdiness and suppleness of Shorter\u2019s melodies e.g., they endure and you can do almost anything you want with them.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n 6.) Matthew Shipp, \u201cPiano Sutras\u201d (Thirsty Ear)<\/strong> \u2013 If progressive jazz pianists carried the same renegade credibility in pop culture as heavy-metal rock guitarists, Matthew Shipp would be a biker\u2019s tattoo by now. Twenty-something years is a long time to be an Angry Young Man. But the customary rules don\u2019t apply to Shipp, who at age 53 can still wield a thorny club with swaggering panache, both on- and off-stage. His jazz-outlaw persona packs dual reserves of intensity and insolence; the latter, especially, gets him noticed in jazz circles when it\u2019s directed at such elder statesmen as Shorter, Herbie Hancock and Keith Jarrett \u2013 the latter of whom could, ironically enough, match Shipp on whatever Mr. Cranky meter that\u2019s available. For whatever it\u2019s worth, I think Shipp\u2019s uncompromising, mostly unsung insurgency gives him better reason to complain than Jarrett. He even released a \u201cGreatest Hits\u201d compilation earlier this year that made an impassioned what-the-eff-more-do-I-have-to-do case for his artistry. Still, this solo recital, meditative, prickly and ingenious, is an even more persuasive brief on Shipp\u2019s behalf. It literally stomps, like the step-master of an unruly fraternity, to its own beat, piling dense tone clusters and weaving thick harmonic passages into eccentric, arresting patterns. On such pieces as \u201cCosmic Shuffle\u201d and \u201cUncreated Light,\u201d Shipp indulges his combative impulses before giving way to lyrical rumination. Though he may seem at times to be an unrepentant churl, Shipp\u2019s \u201cSutras\u201d remind listeners that, whatever hard things he may have to say, or play, at a given moment, he\u2019s not inclined to stay mad \u2013 or stay anything else \u2013 for very long. (I bet he\u2019s still happy, though, that I ranked this disc ahead of the next one.)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n 7.) Wayne Shorter Quintet, \u201cWithout a Net\u201d (Blue Note)<\/strong> \u2013As I said (maybe) earlier this year<\/a>, the more I\u2019ve listen to it, the deeper its mysteries grow; almost to the point of making me wonder whether there\u2019s anything more to this group\u2019s colloquies than mysteries for their own sake. Then, I try to tell myself what Shorter, in his way, is telling everybody else: that questions and answers are often the same thing. And I\u2019ll go, yes, but\u2026This incessant give-and-take between my ears is why \u201cWithout a Net,\u201d for all its insistence on keeping secrets, stays on this list, no matter what. Give me another month or two and it\u2019ll likely be back in the top five, but for the moment\u2026.<\/p>\n 8.) The Claudia Quintet, \u201cSeptember\u201d (Cuneiform)<\/strong> \u2013 Because I am an easy mark for crafty historical gimmicks, I was piped aboard this vessel by a number called \u201cSeptember 29th, 1936: \u2018Me Warn You\u2019,\u201d in which the voice of FDR, sarcastically chiding his Republican fat-cat opposition for their empty promises of out-dealing the New Deal, is carved up, sampled, mixed, mimicked and harmonized with throughout by this eclectic chamber ensemble led by percussionist John Hollenbeck and featuring Chris Speed on reeds, Matt Moran on vibes, Red Wierenga on accordion and either Drew Gress or Chris Tordini on bass. Once you get past the wonder of hearing instrumental correlatives to Roosevelt\u2019s memorable pipes and recognize the sly contemporary references being made by this juxtaposition, you start to wonder if the joke is being carried a little too far \u2013 until, about seven minutes in, when the group, collectively and individually, starts laying down its own cheeky variations on the president\u2019s joke. This open-ended interplay typifies the rest of the album \u2013 a series of sound mosaics and tone poems devoted to the month that Hollenbeck prefers to use as time for reflection and contemplation. There\u2019s a witty birthday salute to the unavoidable Mr. Shorter (\u201cSeptember 9th Wayne Phases\u201d), a deep-dyed autumnal ballad (\u201cSeptember 25th Somber Blanket\u201d) and, inevitably, a 9\/11 piece (\u201cSeptember 12th Coping Song\u201d) that closes the disc on with introspection that never becomes maudlin. It\u2019s taken me longer than it probably should to have climbed aboard Claudia\u2019s bandwagon and I\u2019m still not sure why this particular one did the trick. But I plan to check back with them.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 9.) Chucho Valdes, \u201cBorder Free\u201d (Jazz Village)<\/strong> \u2013 I hope he wont take this the wrong way, but it must be said up-front: This man is a beast, a monster, an unstoppable force-of-nature \u2013 and, to be sure, a supreme virtuoso. But his is the kind of virtuosity that, rather than swooping down from thin air, blows the doors open to his listeners, making them run en masse towards him and scream for more. (Just listen to the first five minutes of \u201cCongadanza\u201d and you\u2019ll know exactly what I mean. The last four are pretty \u201cwow\u201d, too.) Valdes is also a paragon among 70-something artists who seem to be gaining in raw power and messianic force with age. He and his Afro-Cuban Jazz Messengers aren\u2019t just wearing down the all-but-fragmented barriers between hard bop and Latin jazz; they\u2019re also expanding rhythmic horizons towards Native American (\u201cAfro-Comanche\u201d) and Andalusian (\u201cAbdel\u201d) sources of inspiration. He also takes time out to honor both his pianist father (\u201cBebo\u201d) and his late mother (\u201cPilar\u201d) in ways that make his Cuban homeland vivid and stirring. OK, so he gets a little carried away at times with the occasional Rachmaninoff reference and melodramatic flourish. So long as you can still keep up with the stories, what do they matter?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 10.) Gerry Gibbs, Kenny Barron, Ron Carter, \u201cGerry Gibbs Thrasher Dream Trio\u201d (Whaling City Sound)<\/strong> \u2013 If I had Barron, a grandmaster of jazz piano, and Carter, the greatest bassist alive, at my disposal, I bet even I could complete a dream trio with a frying pan, a crockpot and a pair of wooden spoons. But Gibbs, who\u2019s been following in his vibraphonist father Terry\u2019s footsteps by leading his own big band, brings his own aggressive sound, far-reaching chops and orchestrator\u2019s instincts to this session, giving these two demigods a wide-open frame for their immense resources to roam like wolves. The result is a surprising rarity: a piano trio album delivering music with the heft and momentum of a larger ensemble, thanks mostly to the prodigious balance of power and flexibility coming through Gibbs\u2019 trap set. Along with the usual stops (\u201cEpistrophy,\u201d \u201cImpressions,\u201d), the trio shines new light on works by McCoy Tyner (\u201cWhen I Dream\u201d) and Herbie Hancock (\u201cThe Eye of the Hurricane,\u201d \u201cTell Me a Bedtime Story\u201d). The biggest revelations, however, come from the pop book: that old mid-1960s warhorse, \u201cThe Shadow of Your Smile,\u201d Stevie Wonder\u2019s \u201cDon\u2019t You Worry \u2018Bout a Thing\u201d and, most especially \u201cPromises, Promises,\u201d whose sleek mounting and seamless arrangement here showcase Carter and Barron\u2019s mastery of tempo and changes while delivering what may be the most effective jazz take yet on a Burt Bacharach tune.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n HONORABLE MENTION:<\/strong> Maria Schneider & Dawn Upshaw, \u201cWinter Morning Walks\u201d (ArtistShare)<\/strong> Marc Cary, \u201cFor the Love of Abbey\u201d (Motema)<\/strong> Charles Lloyd & Jason Moran, \u201cHagar\u2019s Song\u201d (ECM)<\/strong> Joe Lovano UsFive, \u201cCross Culture\u201d (Blue Note)<\/strong> Geri Allen, \u201cGrand River Crossings\u201d (Motema)<\/strong> Bill Frisell, \u201cBig Sur\u201d (Okeh)<\/strong> Carla Bley, Andy Sheppard, Steve Swallow, \u201cTrios\u201d (ECM)<\/strong> Wadada Leo Smith & Tumo, \u201cOccupy the World\u201d (Tum)<\/strong> Ben Allison, \u201cThe Stars Look Very Different Today\u201d (Sonic Camera)<\/strong> Rudresh Mahanthappa, \u201cGamak\u201d (ACT)<\/strong> Fred Hersch & Julian Lage, \u201cFree Flying\u201d (Palmetto)<\/strong> Art Pepper, \u201cUnreleased Art, Vol. VIII: Live at the Winery, September 6, 1976\u201d (Widow\u2019s Taste)<\/strong> Matt Mitchell, \u201cFiction\u201d (Pi)<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n![\"Ahmad](\"https:\/\/geneseymour.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/12\/Ahmad-Jamal-Saturday-Morning1.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n