Archive for the ‘Eric Harland’ Category
Charles Lloyd: Sangam (2006 – ECM)
At this juncture in his life and career, Charles Lloyd has become untouchable. His tone is so full of depth that it sounds good to nearly everyone who hears it; his scope is so broad that he can never be accused of coasting, yet he remains fundamentally listenable, so no one can throw labels like “obscurantist” or “self-indulgent” at him, either. He is spiritual but grounded, weird but accessible, old as the hills but still youngish enough in his attack that he seems to know the young man’s game.
Sangam is a work full of drama and skill—around here, it will end up on virtually everyone’s top ten list, and rightfully so—but its true genius lies not in its star or its scenario (this is Lloyd’s first live album for ECM), but its casting. Zakir Hussain is simply the greatest tabla player in the world, an artist with enough credits on his own to deserve major stardom. (Seriously, listen to the stuff he does with Tabla Beat Science, which is truly the cutting edge of world-music jazz.) And Eric Harland is a name that should be as well-known now as that of any other living drummer. For Lloyd, a man who is always on a quest, these are the ultimate wingmen; they let him soar when he wants to, but they are also fully capable of burning on their own.
But they don’t, at least not very often. This is no free jazz freakout, but a carefully planned jazz work that just happens to sound like it’s all spontaneous. Lloyd leads this percussion-heavy trio through older songs like “Hymn to the Mother” and newer ones, but no one ever seems to miss a step or blow an opportunity to soar. “Tender Warriors” chugs right along on a bed of soft drum-shuffle and insistent tabla-tapping and thumping, while Lloyd searches for the universe with his tenor. The title track brings Harland more to the fore, laying down a dense and tense martial cadence for Hussain to riff over—it’s funky and complex and scary, and you can almost hear the audience sigh with relief (and a little sadness) when Lloyd’s Coltrane-ish lead rides in to save the day.
But Sangam is not all about defined roles. Each player steps up to take the lead sometimes; I’m telling you, you haven’t lived until you’ve heard Hussain play the melody from Sonny Rollins’ “St. Thomas” on his tuned hand-drums. And I love how Harland is capable of playing the spooky repeated figure on piano during “Gunam” so that Hussain can do his deep, compelling vocalization before Lloyd comes back in with his flute.
I am not sure what will come of this project. After all, it was recorded in 2004, and there hasn’t been a studio album from these guys yet. I don’t know if they’re working on any more projects together. And I don’t know why certain songs are titled “Nataraj” and “Tales of Rumi,” or their deeper significance. All I really know is that this album captures the three grooviest motherfuckers in the world, all playing together perfectly, and it deserves some serious consideration as what ESPN would call “an instant classic.”
Budd Kopman (All About Jazz)
1. Dancing on One Foot
2. Tales of Rumi
3. Sangam Nataraj
4. Guman
5. Tender Warriors
6. Hymn to the Mother
7. Lady in the Harbor
8. Little Peace
Personnel:
Charles Lloyd: (ten & alto sax, tarogato, bass and alto flutes, percu)
Zakir Hussain: (tabla, voice, percu)
Eric Harland: (drums, percussion, piano)
Original Release Date: April 4, 2006 – Label: ECM
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Listen for once, delete, then buy Part 1 Part 2
Kenny Garrett: Standard of Language (2003 – Warner Bros)
On Standard of Language, alto saxophonist Kenny Garrett explores every popular trend in jazz, covering the last fifty years of the genre’s history. From free jazz to soft and all the bop in between, Garrett’s fourth Warner Bros. release shows why he is loved by jazz-heads everywhere, from the Philharmonic to Philly’s south-side.
“What Is This Thing Called Love” is the only cover on Standard of Language, a surprising feat in the standard-obsessed jazz age of Wynton Marsalis and his followers. What is not surprising, though, is the way Garrett burns his way through this timeless Cole Porter standard.
Drummer Chris Dave’s hip hop roots definitely show through on tracks like “Kurita Sensei” and “Chief Blackwater.” Both tunes would otherwise be boring Rollins-esque hard bop if not for Dave’s funk-laden timekeeping. “XYZ” highlights Garrett’s willingness to explore elements from the free school of jazz in his soloing. Midway through his solo, Garret begins to scream note after note, bringing the tune to its emotional climax before bassist Charnett Moffett dives into a brilliantly bowed solo.
Much of the album continues in this sort of fashion. Standard of Language is mostly predictable: Blue Note-era hard bop that is sadly too reminiscent of Art Blakey, Lou Donaldson, and the aforementioned sax colossus Rollins to be worthy of any significant praise.
“Native Tongue” is Garrett’s biggest mistake on Standard of Language. Out of nowhere this hard-bopping blitzkrieg turns into soft-jazz radio fluff. Now, Rollins, Coltrane and other great jazz saxophones were all guilty of including a pop tune or two on their albums back in the day, but that was before “soft-jazz” was a label with the power to ruin one’s credibility, not to mention career. Well Kenny Garrett’s career isn’t dead yet, but his continual flirtation with the elevator-friendly side of jazz will ultimately force real jazz fans everywhere to question his stature as today’s top sax in jazz.
Then again, this stuff isn’t that different than what Garrett was doing in Miles Davis’ post-retirement bands, and jazz critics loved that crap.
So Garrett has one pop-jazz Kenny G slip up—that’s not the end of the world, is it? Standard of Language is still some of Kenny Garrett’s best work to date. His soloing is as forceful and emotional as ever, and his tunes remain rooted in bop tradition while stretching enough to incorporate today’s funkier, more urban sounds.
James Taylor (All About Jazz)
Recorded at Avatar, New York, New York.
Original Release Date: 2003 – Warner Bros 2003 release
Terence Blanchard: Bounce – (2004 – Blue Note)
Trumpeter and composer Terence Blanchard has come further in a sense than any of the 1980s Art Blakey alumni. While Wynton and Branford Marsalis may have higher profiles, Blanchard is the player who has most improved as both a soloist and an ensemble player. He is an excellent bandleader whose great taste in arrangements and sidemen are reflected on nearly all of his recordings. But most of all, Mr. Blanchard has become one of jazz’s most sophisticated and erudite composers. Combining elegance; sleek, shimmering surfaces; and lopping, limpid ambiences with wonderful harmonic and melodic invention — not to mention a great cast of soloists — there’s no wonder why Mr. Blanchard is Spike Lee’s chosen soundtrack composer. On Bounce, Mr. Blanchard and his septet (which includes the brilliant pianist Aaron Parks, saxophonist Brice Winston, drummer Eric Harland, B3 and Fender Rhodes maestro Robert Glasper, guitarist Lionel Loueke, and bassist Brandon Owens) explore various sides of the Latin music experience while not making a “Latin” record per se. Blanchard seems to be interested in the colorations of rhythm on his own modern creative and post-bop experiments in texture, structure, and musical elasticity. And these tunes do stretch into melodic arenas he’s never explored before. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than the achingly beautiful “Passionate Courage,” where a long, slow opening statement form the horns moves in linear fashion to engage both piano and Rhodes at different junctures as they wander at a luxuriant pace through shaded key signatures and satiny harmonic figures, and engage counterpoint without actually delving into it. On “Azania,” Owens’ bass creates the Afro-Cuban motif that is gently funked up by Glasper on B3. Finally, the African side of the rhythm becomes dominant with chanted vocals by Loueke and the tune moves into Abdullah Ibrahim’s brand of township jazz, while never straying from the blues all that much. Remarkable. Ultimately, Bounce is the most perfectly paced of all of Blanchard’s recordings. He divides his time between tempos, but always comes back to silence to ground himself and begin over. In terms of his lyrical lines, they have never been in a sense more simple or more sophisticated (check out the blissed-out harmonics in “Innocence”), where the individual players become identified by their ensemble contributions first and then as soloists. Mr. Blanchard’s own soling has never been more restrained or more profound. In his economy of phrase, entire sound worlds become evident that were never noticeable before. On Bounce, Blanchard proves that he is the trumpet player, composer, and bandleader who is moving jazz, albeit at his own pace, in new directions that encompass both a new look at Western musical systems and never leave the human heart out of the equation. This is his masterpiece thus far and a high-water mark for anybody else to follow.
Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
1. On the Verge
2. Passionate Courage
3. Fred Brown
4. Nocturna
5. Azania $0.99
6. Footprints
7. Transform
8. Innocence
9. Bounce / Let’s Go Off
Personnel:
Terence Blanchard (trumpet)
Aaron Parks (piano)
Brice Winston (soprano & tenor saxophones)
Lionel Loueke (guitar)
Eric Harland (Drums)
Original Release Date: August 5, 2003 – Label: Blue Note Records
Across Rhythm 