A two decade plus veteran of New York City's Downtown scene, Brown employs three of today's most in-demand sidemen in this quartet. Bandleader, composer and bassist William Parker shares a performing history with Brown dating back twenty years. Drummer
Brown's acerbic alto takes center stage over the course of these roiling, intensely rhythmic tunes, with Taborn's jagged cadences offering reliable support. Eschewing token traditionalism, Taborn avoids conventional comping, liberally unspooling brittle linear phrases under Brown's circuitous salvos, as on the thorny "Lifeboat." Working in tandem, Brown and Taborn meander through the shadowy "Ghost Dog," weaving through labyrinthine passages driven by a percolating groove and sinewy bass ostinato.
Longstanding partners, Taborn and Cleaver unveil their intuitive rapport on "Sonic Ecosystem," the album's sole electronic piece. Glitchy hums emanate from lo-fi electronics as Taborn accents undulating sine waves with pointillist piano phrases, while Cleaver quietly responds with scintillating tones. Sporadically interrupted by a plangent unison theme from Brown's plaintive alto and Parker's bowed bass, their conversation continues unabated.
Clocking countless studio hours together, Taborn, Parker and Cleaver are frequent rhythm section companions. Whether locking into the slow burn vamp of "Rocking Horse" or navigating shifting meters on the knotty post-bop of "Clearly Speaking," they demonstrate their affable interplay with fluid invention.
Eclipsing structural traditions, Brown spars with Cleaver on the first half of "Exuberance," discharging pithy, fragmentary spirals as Cleaver throttles his kit with unfettered abandon before the entire group reconvenes.
Despite the album's overall focus on rhythm, Brown reveals a soulful, impressionistic side on "World's Spinning," closing the record with stark, yearning lyricism.
With over a dozen albums to his credit, Crown Trunk Root Funk is one of Brown's most engaging. (from AAJ)
Recorded in 1973,
It all opens quietly enough with "In Trane's Name." Lowe plays with control, giving the melody its due, but when the tune erupts, the power and the force are incendiary. Both Lowe and Jarman propel and edge the music onwards, fermenting and brewing ideas on the go. There is howl and yell and intensely volatile notes shooting into the stratosphere. Jarman hits the high squiggles, squeezing out the notes, the torque tight. Lowe swipes a broader swath as he gets into a conversation with Jarman, if that's what the charged atmosphere can be called. Give the band credit though for not letting the tune spiral out of control, they bring it down, cooling the pace for the mid-section.
"Thulani" is another agitated progression, with Lowe and Jarman moving on different planes; the former is steady on the beat and the melody, the later unfurls a whorl of free motifs. But it is not long before Lowe dives into the pith and tears form apart.
Parker and Rashid Sinan (drums) are an energetic and propulsive rhythm section. As for The Wizard on violin, it is Raymond Lee Chang and not
Black Beings serves as an historical document and stopping-off point in the musical legacy of Lowe, showing a rare side of the musician.
1973 BLACK BEINGS (ESP) rapidshare/mediafire
| Review | by Thom Jurek |
Recorded at two live dates in Canada in July and July of 2004, Sound Unity is the most beautifully wrought of William Parker's ensemble recordings. Certainly it doesn't break as much ground as some, and it acknowledges his debts to composers like Ornette Coleman, Don Cherry, and Eric Dolphy, and that's fine; in Parker's able hands as a leader, this band with saxophonist Rob Brown, drummer Hamid Drake (are he and Parker the best rhythm section in jazz or what?), and trumpeter Lewis Barnes understands that both listening and silence are as important as what notes to play. The interaction between the horn players feels like they've been playing together for a very long time -- check out the 18-plus-minute title track. What's also important to note here is the fluidity that the rhythm section engages the horns with, such as on "Wood Flute Song," or the crazy, funky joy on "Hawaii." The bandmembers nearly lift off; they're having so much fun. The music on this set is one of those bridges -- across tradition, subgenre, nuance, and harmony. Parker's lyricism is profound, and has never been heard quite like this before. Brown is a more subtle player than some Parker has worked with before, and Barnes is a natural singer on the trumpet. The gap that's provided in the absence of a piano allows for a less strident interaction harmonically and dialogically. The music here flows, reaches, steps back, and reaches further, with Parker's guidance allowing for the horns to push one another as they do on "Groove," not so much for what they know, but for what they bring to a tune emotionally. "Harlem"'s folk song melody and lyric are among the most beautiful Parker has yet written; it's a place where blues and the Middle Eastern musics of Morocco come together. This is a stellar offering from one of the music's greatest lights. | |