The Blue Note 7: Mosaic (Blue Note)
At first hearing I was a little underwhelmed by this all-star band celebrating 70 years of the label by performing fresh arrangements of some classic tunes from the label’s 1960s’ heyday. But, trust me, it gets much better once you’ve settled into it.
If the band has a leader I suspect it is pianist Bill Charlap, and he is joined by guitarist Peter Bernstein, saxophonists Ravi Coltrane and Steve Wilson, trumpeter Nicholas Payton, bassist Peter Washington and drummer Lewis Nash.
The tunes come from Cedar Walton (the title track), Joe Henderson, McCoy Tyner, Bobby Hutcherson, Thelonious Monk, Herbie Hancock, Duke Pearson and, of course, that composer who summed up the Blue Note sound in those days perhaps more than anyone else, Horace Silver.
There is nothing earth-shattering here, but there is a degree of dedication that gives the music weight without it tilting over into referential stolidity.
Payton is particularly lyrical on Tyner’s Inner Urge, Coltrane pulls some really original improvisational twists and turns out of Henderson’s Inner Urge, and Charlap is just impeccable throughout, whether quietly pointillist in a solo or comping muscularly in support.
Jordi Savall: Jerusalem (Alia Vox)
This is not jazz and not even a conventional CD – it’s much bigger in every sense. The Catalan master of early music and of its early cello, the viol or viola da gamba, is nothing if not ambitious. He has chosen as his theme here the city of Jerusalem and its history as a Jewish, Arab and Christian place.
What you get is two CDs in a substantial hard-covered book containing full notes and essays in no fewer than eight languages. If music is universal, Savall is determined to ensure its packaging and explication is no less restricted.
He has singers and musicians from all kinds of traditions and segues them into a profound whole which has the scope of a pageant but the insights of detailed miniatures within.
This is music which embodies the common humanity behind what have become apparently conflicting traditions. If only Savall and his players could be leading peace talks, too, we might see some hope in the Middle East.
And if the weight of the book and the symbolism of the music feels a little overwhelming, rest assured – it is beautiful, beautiful music.
Theo Bleckmann, Gary Versace, John Hollenbeck: Refuge Trio (Winter & Winter)
Vocalist Theo Bleckmann begins a cappella with words that sound familiar but strangely out of their usual context. It is only when he gets a little further in and one makes the connection with this group’s name that the penny drops: it’s Joni Mitchell’s Refuge Of The Roads.
Versace is on keyboards which include accordion, Hollenbeck is on all kinds of percussion including vibes and glockenspiel, and Bleckmann engages in live electronic processing of his voice, so the overall instrumental palette is rich in tone and hue.
There are original pieces, some Monk (a disturbing Misterioso which Bleckmann ends up almost gargling) and Ornette (an atmospheric Peace), and the final tune is by Alan Holdsworth – which Bleckmann sings pure and true, while Versace accompanies relatively conventionally and Hollenbeck adds a disconcerting quiet clatter.
Subtle and intriguing, innovative on many levels, and working in the spaces between jazz and all sorts of other kinds of music.
Note: I’ve decided to dispense with the star ratings. Good move or bad? Tell me.
Egotism, I like to believe, is not a particular problem with jazz musicians. Like all creative people, they need to believe in themselves, and there has always been a fairly healthy competitive spirit at play, but overall, jazz players in the era since cutting contests have dropped from fashion appear generous and appreciative of the skills of others.