The Free Jazz Collective

Hyper Elastic Jinx - We Vote Force Majeure (Barefoot Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

Let it happen at our peril.

This is the title of the final track on We Vote Force Majeure, a powerfully free set of collective improvisations by the band Hyper Elastic Jinx, and it is a prophetic warning.

For instance, climate change is projected to increase coastal flooding around Norway, Denmark, and Germany, where the musicians on this album primarily reside, by a factor of 10, 100, or even 1000 depending upon emissions scenarios.

“Let It Happen At Our Peril,” the song, opens with two saxophones, one the alto of Signe Emmeluth, one a tenor played by Nana Pi, both of whom are deeply connected to the Scandinavian experimental music scene. The saxophones warp and twist around each other as the song progresses. By mid-tune, the piece has erupted into a catastrophic explosion of sound, with drummer Halym Kim crashing down on the snare and cymbals, and guitarist Keisuki Matsuno firing hits and chords full of color and fuzzy, chorus-filled reverb that sounds to me like it's played on an old Fender amp built in the 1970s. Kim and Nana Pi have played extensively together on the Northern European scene, including on the 2022 album Tactical Maybe , a gorgeous and raucous experimental work I highly encourage everyone to check-out. Matsuno, on the other hand, has ties to the John Zorn world, playing on Zorn’s Bagatelles Volume 11 in 2022 with Jim Black. Emmeluth, of course, has forged a fiery reputation as dynamo of what the Free Jazz Collective has called The New Danish Thing.

But We Vote Force Majeure is not about its individual performers. It is an album of collective free improvisation for which all musicians share equally in the song-writing credits. It is a community in communion with the greater good, and despite my use of the word catastrophic in the previous paragraph, notes about the album on the Barefoot Records webpage state “The album is not an invocation of catastrophe, but a longing for a superior and irresistible force that people can’t ignore - a force that focuses on social values, cultural exchange and ecological sustainability.”

Despite this persistent optimism of the will, the album is meant to remind listeners “that the world and the structures we are living in are not socially, economically, ecologically or politically sustainable and benefit only a minority of people.”

The album warns it is “Always the Others,” the title of the second work on the record. Experts on the history of concentration camps point out that camps functioning in far away times and places are easily labeled as evil, while those erected and running here and now are commonly believed to hold the real bad guys. The individuals held in these places are so quickly othered. And, it is so easy for fascism to take root when its citizens believe it is always the others who face genuine danger. Here in the United States, for instance, by April 2026, 42,000 people with no prior criminal records were being detained in camps throughout the United States. These are camps for the mass detention of civilians, not war-time prisoners, who have not been given due process and were detained on the prejudicial basis of a larger group identity.

Perhaps “Let It Happen At Our Peril” and “Always the Others” call back and ahead philosophically to the album’s fourth track “Zero Point 75.” In the world of optometry, +0.75 Diopters is the lowest level used in a prescription to correct short-sightedness. The short sightedness of humanity may be a reality, but it is still at a correctable state. I don’t think the musicians play programmatically on this album, but I find it fitting that Halym Kim opens this song playing the drums as though it were the ticking of a manual alarm clock. We can only remain short sighted for so much time.

So, instead of shrinking away in despair of catastrophe, we can choose now to function like the example set by the musicians on this record: individually contributing to a working group dynamic. Here, this musical dynamic is one where the energy rises and washes over the listener more than any individual solo. The value is located in the spontaneous and present collective, not in a perfected show of musical virtuosity. It is force majeure: a force of such superior power that it is irresistible. And, as displayed on this wonderfully powerful album, it can be used as a force for good.

We Vote Force Majeure by Hyper Elastic Jinx

JAZZ IS DEAD! FESTIVAL - Torino, May 29-31

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 18 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Ferruccio Martinotti

A small yet great festival that along the years brought into town the likes of Peter Brotzmann, Mats Gustafsson, The Necks, Zu, Oren Ambarchi, Jamie Branch, Boris, John Edwards, Evan Parker, just to name a few, earning the perennial gratefulness of a faithful, constantly increasing, legion of diehard followers. But not only. While the music industry is devouring itself in a sick cannibalism of insanely expensive gigs, pre-sale tickets in the clutches of mafia-like algorithms and fake sold-outs, here at JID! for 15 euros (10 if you can’t afford more and 40 for the 3 days pass) you can see concerts from morning till night, when even the most grindcore eardrums beg ENOUGH. For its ninth edition, the festival is moving from post-industrial warehouses (The Bunker) to the green grounds of a farmhouse (Cascina Falchera), less than a mile from the noisy and busy outskirts of the city. Trees, lawns, camping, showers, blankets on the grass, hammocks, and barefoot children running around, create a fun and enjoyable short circuit between a hippie-esque, micro-Woodstock atmosphere and a soundtrack that is the furthest from those muddy Peace & Love days. This year’s lineup highlights once again what a properly focused festival should be: a defined perimeter, within which to showcase the various facets of the "editorial" prism, setting aside the rhetoric of a headliner and a bunch of (often out of context) support bands in front of a bored/distracted/pissed off audience, frantically waiting for the Star. Then there's everyone's taste, as it should be. Below, ours.

DAY 1

Lucrecia Dalt

The Colombian, Berlin based musician takes the stage with her guitar, flanked by bass/double bass, and drums for a set that, almost entirely, features her latest album, "A Danger to Ourselves," released last year. Her experimental electronica, a blend of avant-garde pop and dreamlike sound design, is always intriguing, but in its live outdoor dimension, it loses something compared to her recordings.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Matmos

After 30 years spent mixing up and transforming all kinds of electronic madness into "enjoyable" music, Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt seem still eager to have fun, and, of course, so are we. Glitches, loops, beats, and a set of steel containers struck with concentrated mastery are the menu of the evening. For the final piece, to bid farewell to the audience, they launch an irresistible straight-kick, 4/4 groove, which, for people who used to record liposuctions in operating rooms, is truly Super Yacht Rock Time! Legendary.

Photo Fabiana Amato

DAY 2

Yazz Ahmed

The Bahraini-born trumpeter, here on flugelhorn, accompanied by Ralph Wyld on vibraphone, weaves wonderful sonic textures that blend jazz and psychedelia, all flavored with Arabic fragrances inspired by her home country: a rock-solid sonic bridge between ancient worlds and contemporary avant-garde. Sublime, even at 11 am.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Moor Mother

She prepares her laptops gently and smiling, but when she presses the ON button, the San Andreas Fault sends a shockwave that can be felt all the way to Torino: Apocalypse Now. In the maelstrom generated by devastating industrial sounds and telluric dub rhythms, Camaye Ayewa dives headfirst, not only taking possession of the music but being totally possessed by it, just to reemerge wildly fiery and furious. Seen a month ago with Irreversible Entanglements, in her solo version she reaffirms one certainty: there’s no one like her out there.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sorvina

From New York, but based in Berlin, the smiling charm of Sorvina jumps on stage as a full-band on this occasion, and her music, which blends jazz, rap, soul, and gospel, is enriched in its unique expression. Through her unmistakable voice, capable of conveying joy and vulnerability, she combines lyrical complexity and groove, always remaining faithful to the roots of authentic hip-hop.

Photo Fabiana Amato

The Heliocentrics

Among the cornerstones of British nu-jazz, they were one of our highlights on the agenda, and the concert fully met expectations. Featuring bass, cello/electronics, keyboards, drums, and sax/flute, theirs is a stunning synthesis of jazz, funk, and psychedelia, producing a hypnotic and sizzling sound, articulated by the stunning talented singer Barbora Patkova. After all, they've collaborated with true legends like Mulatu Astatke and members of the Sun Ra Arkestra for a reason.

Photo Fabiana Amato

DAY 3

How would you measure the love for music? The number of records you own? Too easy. The concerts you’ve seen? Nah. Or maybe, starting Day 3 of the Festival at 2 PM, while the heat bomb hits Torino like Milford Graves on his drum kit? Well, that could be a unit of measurement.

Dwarfs of East Agouza

Is it possible to blend the radical improvisation and hypnosis of krautrock with the energy of Egyptian shaabi? You have to be an absolute champion to pull it off, but with Maurice Louca, Sam Shalabi and Alan Bishop we are talking about off the scale cats. Assembling electronics, wind instruments, Arabic scales, jazz, and psychedelia, their angular trajectories obliterate any space/time dimension, and their constant balance between chaos and composition, imbued with an emancipatory free jazz spirit, is captivating above and beyond daydreaming.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Glacial

Elusive is an understatement. In 25 years, a single album and a handful of concerts for a rendez-vous of legends, Lee Ranaldo, Tony Buck, and David Watson: those who were there will be able to tell their grandchildren about it. Buck's polyrhythms (of Necks' fame) are accompanied by Ranaldo's anti-guitar playing (Glenn Branca, Sonic Youth), where the instrument is struck, dragged on the ground, played with the bow and Watson's bagpipes (Yoshi Wada, Phil Niblock), all generating a cascade of noise, free, drones, and psychedelia. Glacial in name and in deed.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sanam

Blossomed into the Beirut scene after a collaboration with Hans Joachim Irmler from Faust, they confirm on stage the amazing, original outcome heard on their last album “Sametou Sawtan”. Modern Arabic poetry delivered by the stellar singer Sandy Chamoun, feedback, improvisation, traditional music and jazz, are delivering a unique sonic synthesis that defies all genre boundaries. The geographical boundaries of their Homeland have already been defied and breached by tanks.

Photo Fabiana Amato

The Avant Garde Flamenco Trio – Lunar(Redshift Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 17 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Nick Ostrum

Lunar came as something of a surprising to me. I found the title of the group appealing and somewhat cryptic. So, I loaded the music into my media player and clicked play.

For the first 5 minutes, I could not figure out what was happening. The music sounded Latin. The guitar had that recognizable Andalusian flair and emotive sheen. The trumpet blared with a similar snap, sometimes fading into a style reminiscent of later Dennis Gonzalez electro-acoustic productions and sometimes cutting forward in fanfare. Then, an oddly familiar voice cut through, singing in a gruff Spanish. It was in the spacious, non-melodic parts that I started to notice the slightly askew cadences and scales, that evoked the pastures of Mesopotamia as much as the Mexican grasslands. Then, it dawned on me: this is Emad Armoush.

I have written about Armoush before. He has played in Gordon Grdina’s Haram and his own Rayhan, both of which have strong Middle Eastern roots. In the Avant Garde Flamenco Trio, Armoush has distilled his six-strong Rayhan group to a core of three: JP Carter on trumpet and electronics, Kenton Loewen on drums, and Armoush himself on guitar, oud, and vocals. The result is absolutely riveting.

Lunarfollows a flamenco tradition, but, as with the Armoush’s other projects, it strays far into improvisational territory, not just varying a theme or running charts and scales but diving head-first into expansive passages – backed by some wispy electric ambience and Loewen’s soft and itinerant drums – that lack a predetermined center. The melodies and vocal patterns draw the listener in. But it is these long moments, where the musicians fumble for direction through terrain alternately spacious and pastoral and raucously discordant, that hold the album together and distinguish it from the classical and folk traditionalists that have pioneered these forms before.

The title, Lunar, is telling. Per Armoush, the album is about the Middle East, more so than its potential Spanish or Latin American terrain. It is about war, conflict, and suffering. The pastures noted above have been turned to a barren moonscape of rocket pockmarks, twisted and charred flora, absent of the life – the farms, the animals, the crops, the fellaheen, the villages – that preceded. However, the very act of commemoration, of lamentation, is, also, an act of life, that is absent any genuine lunar terrain. A true gift, even if it is riven by suffering and tragedy.

Lunar is available as a download from Bandcamp.

Lunar by The Avant-garde Flamenco Trio

18th Jazzdor Strasbourg-Berlin Festival (June 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 16 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Paul Acquaro

Based in Strasbourg, France, Jazzdor has been producing its flagship festival for more than 35 years, with a sister edition in Germany for over 18 and a new collaboration now taking root in Budapest. The music presented by Jazzdor has been consistently illuminating, introducing both emerging and established musicians to new audiences and fostering collaborations between European and even some American musicians. This year also marks a transition, with Vincent Bessières stepping in as artistic director following the long tenure of founder Philippe Ochem.

Spread over four days in early June, Bessières brought his vision for the festival to the Gretchen Club in Berlin's Kreuzberg neighborhood. Featuring two sets per evening each night featured groups linked by their style and, of course, their French connections. As opposed to other years where groups had been curated for their premier performance, Bessières was relying on working groups, something he attributed more to the time he has had so far to develop his vision than to future ambitions.

The new location lent a different feel to the event. Previous years were held in the cavernous Maschinenhaus in Berlin's Kulturbrauerei, located in a 19th century brewery in the city's gentrified Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood. Offering a large stage area and ample room, the space could host large ensembles, which they did with a big band playing Carla Bley's music or Steve Lehman's ambitious Ex Machina orchestra, but could also feel a bit impersonal. Gretchen Club, in the grittier Kreuzberg, has a cozier jazz club like atmosphere with it's low arched ceiling and columns.

Waken

Tuesday's show kicked off with the group WAKEN, a piano trio led by France-based pianist Francesca Han with bassist Pierre Fenicheland drummer Fred Pasqua. The trio presented a vibrant, melodic set of songs, with pieces containing atmospheric and dreamy moments, along with syncopated and uptempo passages that often slowly developed into driving tunes. Elements of classical as well as pop music were interwoven with expressive soloing from all three musicians.

Amaury Faye NOLA Quartet

They were followed by the Amaury Faye NOLA Quartet featuring the drummer Herlin Riley. Group leader, French pianist Faye, had an extended stay in New Orleans where he spent time immersing himself in the local culture and taking long walks through the city (one time apparently wearing a panda costume), soaking in the atmosphere. One impression that he came away with was "rust," as he explained, it was on the bridges, around the buildings, and in the rail yards. Another was, obviously, the music and the set was an often uptempo take on traditional New Orleans jazz with a modern jazz sheen. With him was saxophonist Julian Lee, bassist Edouard Pennes and Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra drummer Herlin Riley, who played with an animated showmanship.

Polybahn

What could be considered the 'traditional jazz' night was followed on Wednesday by two experimental leaning groups. The first group, Polybahn , is the occasional working group of saxophonist Michael Attias , drummer Samuel Ber and pianist Benoit Delbecq , announced by Bessieres as "abstract, but poetic." Adhering to this description, the group performed a set-long improvisation that flowed effortlessly from quiet introspection to agitated formulations. Beginning with Attias gently blowing into the horn and sprinkles of notes from Delbecq, the music unraveled patiently with Ber's gentle but firm persuasion. Switching between saxophones, Attias played long melodic strands on the soprano while Delbecq punctuated his phrasings with palm plants on the keyboard. Ber, an intense drummer, concentrated on the core of his kit, a snare, bass drum, one cymbal to underscore the group's palpable pulse.

Hélène Duret's Synestet

Wednesday's second set, clarinetist Hélène Duret's Synestet featuring Nils Wogram, had the French - German collaboration performing the music from their latest recording, Perception.From a trembly, squeaky start through some deep rumbling notes, the music emerged slowly but assuredly. A simple repeating pattern from guitarist Benjamin Sauzereau then set the group in full motion. Saxophonist Sylvain Debasieux began playing an oozing, layered solo that built up to a final defiant squawk from Duret on the bass clarinet. Trombonist Nils Wogram came to the stage about a quarter of the way into the set. Having recorded the last album with the group, he was already well poised to lend his expertly melodic voice to the group. Across their diverse set, the music veered from slow, hypnotic vibes to fiery uptempo pieces with cinematic scope with the superb support of bassist Fil Caporali and drummer Maxime Rouayroux. The final piece, the appropriately titled 'Adieu,' was carried by Sauzereau guitar work centering around an extended solo that synthesized Bill Frisell's Americana twang with angular jabs of surf guitar.

Trouble

Successfully lowering the audience's median age, the third night of the festival shifted in a more electronic music direction. Even though both groups played primarily using traditional acoustic and electric instruments, they both also had woven electronics deep into their approach, in quite different ways. The first group, Trouble, offered a compelling vision of how electronics, looping and minimalism could work in a jazz context. With drummer Antonin Leymarie's drums at the center, perfectly supported by Fabrizio Rat's reductionist piano work, Clément Petit's and Maëlle Desbrosses ' captivating cello and viola playing, and Élise Caron's hypnotic voice, the group spun repetitive acoustic grooves, adorned with electronics and effects, into euphoric climatic moments. One piece, apparently a story of love between robots and a later piece, both of whose name escaped my note taking, were rather spellbinding moments of classical music that used the minimalist looping to a maximum effect. The following group, Photons with Gauthier Toux on electronics, Giani Caserottoon guitar, Samuel F’Hima on bass, and Julien Loutelieron drums, took a different approach, opting for a ‘live techno’ direction in which the electronics and formulaic beat structures became the primary focus.

Garden of Silences

Friday, the final night, offered yet another perspective on the state of jazz — an ethno‑folk jazz strain, if we look for a term that steers clear of the loaded ‘world‑music’ label. Both Garden of Silences and Mosaic were truly multi-cultural blends that sought - and found - new ways to blend strong traditions into something captivating and new. Garden of Silences is formed around violinist Clément Janinet and trumpeter Arve Henriksen along with accordionist Ambre Villermoz and bassist Robert Lucaciu. Mixing classical repertoire with free improvisation and Swedish folk, the group plays a music that is not jazz nor classical nor folk, but with all of these elements, utterly captivating. Beginning with a swirl of accordion and the trumpet playing a slow melody, a gentle, provocative classical countermelody emerged from the violin and bass. The next piece featured a dramatic introduction from Henriksen over a churning undercurrent from Janiet. Throughout, the trumpeter employed electronic elements and vocals and the groups final tune was a turn toward a more modern melodic approach. They have an self-titled album out on BMC records.

Mosaic, comprised of musicians from Bulgaria, France, Portugal and Tunisia, met at a music event in Malta and have developed a unique Mediterranean-jazz. Big rhythms, dynamic interactions and even some renaissance music flair brought out by Georgi Dobrev's kaval, a Balkan flute. Slowly building pieces gave way to epic storms with swirling counter melodies and mounting polyrhythms. Interactions between Dobrev, cellist Adèle Viret, accordionist Noé Clerc , bassist Zé Almeida, drummer Diogo Alexandre and percussionist Hamdi Jammoussi kept the audience enthralled up until and after Jammoussi's climatic solo credenza encore on his blue back-lit hand drum.

Even in a somewhat more compact format, the festival successfully again spotlighted a fertile and varied European scene, with an eye towards the future of jazz. With its growing network of events in Strasbourg, Berlin, and Budapest, Jazzdor is clearly still evolving. Bessières speaks of new partnerships and new directions; if this year is any indication, there’s real potential in that aspiration.

Achim Kaufmann, Yorgos Dimitriadis, Michael Thieke – Hiss and Whirr (Wide Ear Records, 2025)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 15 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Dan Sorrells

In this moment of hollow AI mimicry, the hiss and whirr of three musicians locked in improvisation starkly highlights the very creative capacity that our inhuman technology tries and fails to co-opt. Like cogs that can be retooled and reconfigured on the fly, Achim Kaufmann, Yorgos Dimitriadis, and Michael Thieke create something genuinely novel and in constant renewal, even as it may remind us—perhaps uncannily—of the regularity and precision of machines.

Dimitriadis has previously worked in the duo format with both Kaufmann and Thieke. To the extent putting the three together calls machinery to mind, it's of the churning, industrial sort. Throughout Hiss and Whirr, the interlocking of Kaufmann's prepared piano, Dimitriadis's percussion, and Thieke's frequently beguiling clarinet takes on a cryptic quality, like hearing unseen work from behind closed doors. What reach us on the other side are the sonorous workings of machines or systems whose purpose is hopelessly obscured. Much of this derives from the fascinating way the trio arrests and warps time. There's a constancy that feels more like cyclical layering than linear exposition, even as the music ceaselessly changes. This lends a hypnotic feel to pieces like the opening title track with its thumping toms and gently clanging piano. It can also yield drama: "an epoch of rain" is a ratchet with almost no forward movement—just increasing tension, winding tighter and tighter. But these rhythms and tempos aren't rigid. Their contours flex and are redrawn as patterns accumulate and dissipate. Eventually, the sounds darken, becoming damp and subterranean. "or hunger that gets lost" works itself into an eerie space, notes dripping like the intricate, unsteady polyrhythms in a cavernous cistern.

The trio further obscure their human hands through the nuanced deployment of electronics, which both Kaufmann and Dimitriadis use as atmospheric augments and occasionally to cast doubt on true causes. Thieke, for his part, uses his formidable technique to conjure the same effects. There's an electric charge gathering in his feedback tones from "the minute it isn't held," and the subtle tongue slaps that end "of fragments flowering" sound like a clipping audio track.

The sounds on Hiss and Whirr often seem influenced by the technological thrum of our modern lives and the ways in which individuals are subsumed in the complexity that emerges as intersecting processes are set into motion. But just try to imagine this music being spat from a soulless algorithm. It could never be derived from a series of probabilistic calculations, because its improbability is its greatest asset. Free improvisation is the antithesis of derivative slop.

hiss and whirr by Achim Kaufmann / Yorgos Dimitriadis / Michael Thieke

Ivo Perelman and Damon Smith - Duologue 6: Core of Existence (Squid Note, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 14 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Ivo Perelman continues his duologue series with a conversation with bassist Damon Smith, and this is a duologue well worth listening in on. Bass and saxophone seem naturally attuned to interact: two instruments built on vibration, the sax of a reed and the bass of a string. In both instruments, the air moved by vibration is passed through a resonant body to create texture, warmth, and depth. Their kinship is physical, but their voices are utterly distinct, and that tension is where the chemistry happens.

Across the album, the musicians explore the full expressive range of their instruments. They trade thunks, whispers, vibrato, sudden bursts of intensity, and passages of exquisite stillness. What emerges is a sense of deeply engaged conversation.

The tracks on Duologue: Core of Existence are numbered 1-12, and across the album, the range and versatility of both musicians is demonstrated. From the sax-led inspiration on track 1, the extemporised playing of Perelman on track 2, supported by the depths of resounding notes from the bass, to the dance-like trilling of the sax on track 3, supported by the bass, this time using higher notes and vibrato to add a different texture to the music.

On track 4, there is a shift in emphasis, and the bass supports Perelman playing in a range of styles, at one time creating a fuzzy background texture and another a plucked, plinky, rhythmic style. On track 5, the bass is fast, furious, and then suddenly delicate under Perelman's intensity, the beauty of the track developing as each musician listens not only to each other but also uses silences to add punctuation.

Across the album, tenor sax and bass are used as instruments of engagement, negotiation, and to exchange ideas, sometimes one suggesting, sometimes the other. While this is free playing, without supposed form, there are different patterns, rhythms, and styles, from the intense to the gentle and sublime. Even when Perelman is following a delirious line or sliding in a snippet from a traditional jazz tune, the bass is ever changing, reacting, and engaging with the ideas. On track 8, the final phrases see the bass loose stringed and plucked, creating a shimmering effect under the tenor line.

Track 9 sees a shift in emphasis, as this is bass-led and glorious, with Perelman affording the Smith ample room and scope while supplying notions, ideas, and quicksilver rivulets of sound for the bass to react to. Even when Perelman is at his most unrestrained, Smith’s bass is in motion, reacting with invention and agility, introducing ideas of his own making. The fabulous contrast in the middle section between the high-pitched screams of the tenor and the deepest, darkest throat of the bass is extraordinary.

As in all the Duologue series, Perelman seems to relish conversing with other musicians and instruments in a musical encounter where he can pitch the tenor sax against different bodies, materials, and modes of vibration, yet the underlying principle remains. Sound is a shared exploration. Perelman and each of the musicians he has played with in the series tap into creating vibrations: notes, music, in different ways, but as ever, there is a commonality in conversations. Perelman, in this series, is the alchemist who makes it happen, drawing out the unique resonances of each collaborator. With Smith, the chemistry is profound, two musicians creating vibrations in different ways but providing meaning and conversation in equal measure. It is here where magic happens.

Duologue 6: Core of Existence by Ivo Perelman and Damon Smith

Ivo Perelman, Matthew Shipp, Bobby Kapp, and William Parker - Synesthesia (Defkaz, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 13 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Ivo Perelman is a musician, artist, and jeweller who works with many musicians of different styles. He sees the world slightly differently from some of us, in that he sees sound in colour. So the title of the recording, Synesthesia, is apt. In his contribution to my book Music Is Your Superpower, Perelman describes music not as a choice, but as an essential for existence. He says of music, and jazz in particular, “What truly connected me to jazz was the emotional intensity within its structure, especially in the music of Shorter. It felt almost impossible to perform music that was so intricately constructed while simultaneously conveying such depth of feeling.”

He also talks about his synesthesia – the phenomenon of seeing sound as colours. When Perelman plays music, it feels as if he is creating a work of art, and when he is painting, he can relate it to creating a saxophone solo. Art, colour, and music are interlinked. His intense need to create may explain his productivity in music. His way of playing and interpreting musical dialogue draws to him musicians who understand his musical visions.

On Synesthesia, Perelman has teamed again with close associates Matthew Shipp (piano), William Parker (bass), and Bobby Kapp (drums) in a new recording that captures their deep connection and still evolving voices in contemporary free jazz. With the pathways forged with ‘Ineffable Joy’ and ‘Heptagon’, the group continues to establish new routes in spontaneous composition, open form, and strong collective interplay.

The difference on ‘Synesthesia’ is that the music is more crystallised, and has a deeper sense of flow and connection. That connection is revealed in the rapid reactions of the musicians as they listen and respond to each other, offering individual takes that go to create a whole. Perelman explores his tenor sax, moving across its range with soft, melodic interludes, intense, electric solos, and contrasting altissimo. Shipp demonstrates his innate art of support as his circling, looping chordal progressions offer up subtle melodic ideas that pilot the ensemble in places. The bass of Parker is constant, with deep, sonorous melodies, with space left for musical dialogue. Kapp adds colour and motion, while filling in the detail of the sonic landscape with percussive touches and occasional solos.

Across the album, there is that contrast of intense energy, such as on ‘First Color Heard,’ and quiet, reflective passages, such as those on ‘Afterglow.’ The contrasts coexist, interlinked and cohesive to create the harmonic dialogue that only comes with experience and understanding other musicians.

On ‘Phosphene,’ Perelman travels familiar pathways, yet introduces new elements into each, creating a sense of the unexpected. Shipp’s piano excels on this track with its quiet support and triumphantly emergent solo work. The beautiful moment when Perelman enters across the piano solo with astonishingly accurate pitch contrast is just beautiful. There is even a snippet from a song from Perelman before he reverts to free playing. Into the quiet moments, Parker’s bass sighs and works its magic – an excellent track.

On ‘Blue Taste,’ the influence of jazz masters past and present can be felt as the ensemble delivers free-style jazz commentary across a blues-infused rhythm pattern. Perelman's pipping, and squealing contrast with the steadfast whirr of the accompaniment, while ‘Afterglow’ is a much gentler affair altogether. ‘One Sense’ has an atmosphere of a ‘50s jazz venue for some inexplicable reason, possibly because of the interaction between traditional rhythms and free playing – glorious.

Like in a lot of Perelman’s work, the blues and bop elements make themselves known, interwoven amidst abstract sonic textures that create a flowing, organic development. Synesthesia is a recording that has the quality you might expect from an experienced ensemble, who know each other’s ways so well, yet it still has elements of surprise and supreme intuitive styling that give it its energy and expression.

On Synesthesia, there is no discernible fixed structure, yet the harmonics and classically linked progressions tell of a musical ensemble deeply knowledgeable in musical scaffolding and pinning on that scaffold experimental lines that always work back to the root. The title says it all, a kaleidoscope of jewelled, colourful music, with deep, dark textures and light, contrasting hues. There are shapes woven here, along with colorful landscapes, through which the ensemble meanders, careens, and gently rests on occasion. This is an album that will have broad appeal.

Synesthesia by Ivo Perelman, Matthew Shipp, William Parker, Bobby Kapp

Gabriel Vicéns – Niebla (Clepsydra Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Nick Ostrum

Gabriel Vicéns first came to my attention with 2024’s Mural, which itself was a big step in the young guitarist and composer’s musical evolution. That album marked a turn from the Latin-tinged modern jazz of his previous work toward modernist and postmodernist classical traditions. Niebla finds Vicéns with a sextet with whom he has years of history, but, as far as I can tell, has never stretched so far into this blended, abstract musical territory, at least together. The crew includes saxophonist Roman Filiú, pianist Vitor Gonçalves, bassist Rick Rosato, and the double percussion section of E.J Strickland and Victor Pablo, in addition to Vicéns himself on guitar.

On Niebla (fog), Vicéns and crew simultaneously take a step further out and a step back to Caribbean traditions. For some a split like this would tear at the ligaments of conviction. Here, the group shows rare agility in pulling it off. The album has a lot going for it. Influences range from contemporary jazz to especially Feldman and Cage-inspired classical to Puerto Rican and Cuban rhythmacism. Now, new music and driving rhythm may seem anathema to each other. Throw in some jumpy bop lines (I cannot shake the feeling that some of these phrases are slightly laggard takes on Salt Peanuts, or something like it), Filiú’s and Vicéns entangling lines (I hear nods to Metheny in the latter), Gonçalves’ seasoned restraint, and a wildly pulsing rhythm section and one might think the resulting stew could never settle properly. But it does.

The jauntier fusion numbers here – Niebla, Stray Dogs – lay into that kaleidoscopic description above. The more patient pieces – 900-50-80, Guaiza – strike an unexpectedly convincing balance between repetition, abstraction, and gradualism. The odd time signatures and especially the polyrhythmic drumming add to this, hinting at phasing and free jazz arrhythmia. So too do the moments when the band spans the gap between old and new, or indigenous and hypermodernist practices, as in the scratchy güiro solo about nine minutes into the vertiginous Ramaje. This one runs from some Escherian hive of staircases to noirish jazz (with a solo by Strickland worthy of Andrew Cyrille) to straight-up New York minimalism to the barest of güiro scrapes and rasps framed by silence, or, as the listener’s ears remain perked, an aural fog of what preceded and anticipation of what might come next. In that, Niebla is liminal, resting on the boundary between traditions and, in its various twists and turns, eschewing complacency in any given moment or direction.

Nieblais available as a CD and download here.

Niebla by Gabriel Vicéns

Quagmire & Christer Bothén - Rörane (Relative Pitch, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Eyal Hareuveni

The Swedish Gothenburg-based free-improvising Quagmire trio features Swiss-Swedish double bass player Nina de Heney, hyper-pianist Karin Johansson, and drummer Henrik Wartel. This trio released its debut self-titled album in 2019 on the Portuguese label Creative Sources, highlighting its imaginative layering of spontaneous, sound-oriented textures with an array of inventive extended bowing, inside-the-piano, and percussive techniques that soon coalesced into instant, haunting compositions.

Rörane was recorded at the isolated, old barn Rörane Studio and performance space in Bohuslän by Andreas Werliin (the ex-drummer of Fire! trio), and features the legendary local bass and contrabass clarinetist Christer Bothén (b. 1941), known for his collaboration with Don Cherry (he taught Cherry the donso n’goni), and for his new band Cosmic Ear (with Mats Gustafsson and Goran Kajfeš). Bothén also did the cover artwork.

The album was recorded during a short tour of this ad-hoc quartet. The Rörane area, with its rich cultural history, rock carvings, nature reserves, and burial grounds, offered the right atmosphere to immerse oneself in the spirit of the place. The five pieces deepen the nuanced interplay of Quagmire, enjoying the organic, emphatic, and profoundly poetic contribution of Bothén. Each piece suggests its own unpredictable sonic landscape and its own mysterious, acoustic mantras, flirting with the otherworldly, electroacoustic sounds, or disorienting, statis-like textures. Bothén pushes Quagmire into urgent interplay at the beginning of the 19-minute title piece, but soon the quartet’s dynamics gravitate into the more lyrical and introspective. And since then, breath, bow, strings, skins, and cymbals dance in an inspiring, delicate way, allowing themselves to push their common sonic palettes gently and invite the listeners to immerse themselves in the deeply spiritual musical universe of Qugamire and Bothén. You may feel that the ancient spirits Rörane had some part in this beautiful, arresting sonic ritual.

Rörane by Quagmire & Christer Bothén

gabby fluke-mogul - GUT Live at Roulette (self-released, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 10 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Richard Blute

“Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.”

-Samuel Butler

A stunner from violinist gabby fluke-mogul (they don’t capitalize their name). gabby and frequent collaborator violist Joanna Mattrey are redefining the roles of their instruments in improvised music.

There have been violins in jazz since its very earliest days, going back to the music of Stuff Smith, who played violin in Alphonse Trent’s big band in the 1920s and subsequently led his own bands. (Be sure to check out Smith’s work on the amazing historical jazz label The Complete Jazz Series.)

But this is something very different.

I first discovered the two artists when I randomly clicked on a Youtube video of a solo performance by Joanna Mattrey. My initial reaction after 10 seconds was “My god, what is she doing to that poor viola?”. Another 10 seconds later and I was completely hooked. I realized I was watching something extraordinary and unlike anything I had encountered before.

Joanna’s music led me to the music of gabby. The violin in gabby’s hands was an instrument that could combine traditional classical music, improvisation and harsh noise into a remarkable stew. While Antonio Stradivari is no doubt spinning in his grave, I was thrilled. I had found something genuinely new and exciting.

A review of gabby’s bandcamp page finds multiple treasures where gabby shows their virtuosity and their unique approach to the instrument. There are solo albums, Love Songs and Threshold,both great. There are two duos with percussionists: Lily Finnegan on Throw It In The Sink,and Nava Dunkelman on Likht,which demonstrate another side of their playing. The first is great fun.Also excellent is a duo with Joanna on Oracle.Possibly gabby’s finest collaborations are on the albums Death in The Gilded Agewith Joanna, Ava Mendoza and Matteo Liberatore and Mama Killa with Ava Mendoza and Carolina Pérez.

The album Gut: Live At Rouletteis unlike anything gabby, or anyone else, has done before. It might seem like a solo violin album, but gabby had a partner, sound technician Danishta Rivero, who, to quote the liner notes, “processed the instrument’s timbre with rock concert-quality barrages of sound”. The result was then blasted through 14 speakers, which must have been crushing but delightful to the Roulette crowd.

From the description on the Bandcamp page, I was almost expecting something like Metal Machine Music on violin. While there is an element of that, gabby produces much more. They frequently pluck the violin or bow with minimal arm movement and with Rivero’s overamplification, I swear I hear Hendrix. They also manage to use the violin as a percussion instrument. There are also quiet moments to be had. Those moments of calm make the louder moments more intense in contrast and one can listen to notes decay into something beautiful and then we just hear silence. There’s even a lovely tribute to occasional violinist Ornette Coleman to be found.

All proceeds from the sale of this album go to South Brooklyn community members targeted by ICE via standwithsouthbrooklyn.org.

GUT Live at Roulette by gabby fluke-mogul

James “Blood“ Ulmer (1940 - 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 22:03:01 +0000

Photo by Peter Gannushkin

ByMartin Schray

“I don’t take a stand. I follow. I followed Ornette Coleman’s harmolodic theory, and I still follow it, and I followed it so closely that I realized that to truly follow it in the best way possible, I have to become a harmolodic person, to be able to follow the harmolodic system. So that’s why I’m talking about blues and jazz and boom-boom, and Third Rail and all this - because I am a harmolodic person,” James “Blood” Ulmer once said in an interview with Ted Panken. Ulmer’s style was absolutely unique in its harmolodic nature; no guitarist could blend free jazz, blues, jazz-rock, and funk quite like he did - perhaps because he played all kinds of Black music from an early age before finding his own path. As has only just become known, the guitarist passed away last week at the age of 86.

Born Willie James Ulmer in St. Matthews, South Carolina in 1940, Ulmer was already playing guitar at the age of four, his father taught him his first chords. He initially played in a gospel quartet, then - in 1959 - he moved to Pittsburgh as a professional musician, where he initially played in R&B bands. In the early and mid-1960s, he played in organ-dominated soul-jazz bands before he moved to Detroit and played in bands of such diverse musicians as Dionne Warwick, Chuck Jackson, George Adams, and John Patton. In 1971, he moved to New York City and there he performed with Art Blakey, Paul Bley, Larry Young, and Joe Henderson. It was also there that he met Ornette Coleman, an encounter that would shape his musical outlook for the rest of his life. Ulmer became a member of Ornette Coleman’s live bands in the 1970s and from that point on, he was the “harmolodic person” he talked about in Panken’s interview. Ulmer and Coleman then jointly developed the concept - originally conceived by Ornette for jazz - into “Harmolodic Funk”. This can be heard for the first time on Ulmer’s debut album Tales of Captain Black (Artists House, 1979), which featured Coleman and his son Denardo (drums) as well as Ulmer’s longtime collaborator Jamaladeen Tacuma on bass.

Starting in 1980, Ulmer led his own trio with Calvin Weston (drums) and Amin Ali (bass), with whom he performed his own compositions based on Coleman’s harmolodic concept. Later, he also worked with George Adams (ts) and the Music Revelation Ensemble, whose album No Wave was released in Germany in 1980 by Moers Music. Ulmer usually struck the strings very percussively with his thumb and favored sometimes bizarre open tunings, including the Ornette Coleman-inspired harmolodic tuning. But blues, distorted sounds, idiosyncratic bends, and noisy interludes also shaped his sharp, edgy, clanging playing. The recordings with his own trio that followed - such as Are You Glad to Be in America? (Rough Trade, 1980), Free Lancing (CBS, 1981), Odyssey (Columbia, 1983), Revealing (In+Out Records, 1990) or the outrageous live recordings from New York’s Knitting Factory in the 1990s - reveal a monster on the guitar. Absurd staccatos, splintering sounds, and funk rhythms pile up in the songs; in such moments, the giant Ulmer had no competition, the music shows an artist at the height of his art. During that time he teamed up with tenor saxophonist George Adams once more and created the quartet Phalanx. Their Got Something Good For You (Moers Music,1986) featured Amin Ali and Calvin Weston again, whereas Original Phalanx (DIW, 1987) and In Touch (DIW, 1988) boasted bassist Sirone and drummer Rashied Ali. Between these albums Ulmer released America Do You Remember the Love? (Blue Note, 1986), a jazz-rock quartet session with guitarist Nicky Skopelitis, bassist Bill Laswell and Ronald Shannon Jackson, heavily influenced by Laswell’s ambient/world philosophy.

James “Blood“ Ulmer’s influence on the experimental New York downtown scene of the 1980s is undeniable; bands like DNA and Mars drew inspiration from him, and Living Colour’s guitarist Vernon Reid produced the man’s blues albums from the 2000s, for example Birthright (2005) or Bad Blood In The City. The Piety Street Sessions (2007), both on Hyena Records. “Ulmer is fully aware of his craft, both theoretically and idiomatically - he just never let those concerns hold him back. He’s a rocker. He’s unapologetically himself. He is the blues. Himself. Not his rules,” said Reid. Even at the end of his career Ulmer proved that statement and was able to soar, for example when he joined The Thing on Baby Talk (Live At Molde International Jazz Festival 2015),(The Thing Records 2017). Ulmer also released Back in Time with his Odyssey Band on Pi Recordings in 2005 featuring downtown musicians drummer Warren Benbow and violinist Charles Burnham.

At the 2024 Detroit Jazz Festival James “Blood“ Ulmer played his final concert, retiring soon after due to deteriorating health. The previous year, during a two-night residency at Solar Myth in Philadelphia, he played a concert with Calvin Weston (drums) and Mark Peterson (bass), which summed up his sound in a nutshell: the blues, the soul, the free funk - and the harmolodics.

James “Blood“ Ulmer died June, 3rd, “his music was fearless, and so was his spirit”, his family said in a statement. One of the greatest Black music guitarists ever has gone. May he rest in peace.

Watch James “Blood“ Ulmer at Solar Myth in Philadelphia in 2023:

Marion Brown – Live in Europe 1968 &1972 (NoBusiness, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Kenneth Blanchard

Marion Brown (1935-2010) attacked the new thing when it was really new, but he never achieved the fame of avant garde giants. If you like intense, energetic, and genuinely free jazz, listen to Why not? (ESP 1968). Or, maybe even better, Three for Shepp (Impulse 1966).

The collection here is one from the vaults. The first 3 numbers were recorded at the Maison de la Radio that same year. The last 2 at the Festival de Châteauvallon, Ollioules, France in 1972. Along with Brown’s alto sax are Gunter Hampel on vibraphone, Barre Philips on bass, and Steve McCall on drums.

The Maison Ronde recordings are by far the best of the five. Brown was a pioneer of a certain kind of free composition. He takes a simple, bluesy phrase, twists it inside out, and extracts every last drop of nectar. Beyond that phrase, there is no narrative. There is, however, the slightly melancholy mood of the horn itself. Brown’s sound reminds me somewhat of Steve Lacy, especially in his collaborations with Mal Waldron. His playing, on the other hand, is similar to what you might hear on Miles Davis Live at the Plugged Nickel or, more recently, the amazing recordings of Fred Anderson. Marion Brown is one of those jazz geniuses that could expand his soul into simple horn lines with such grace as to make the angels jealous.

One caveat is that the recording is not what the music deserves. At the 1st venue, you can hear the horn just fine. The rest of the band really needs to come up at bit. The same is true for the horn on the last two cuts, but the supporting instruments are largely reduced to the sound of wind chimes. To what extent this was intended (it was 1972 and the drugs had taken effect) I do not know. It gets better as the piece, Djinji’s Corner, goes on. Short of halfway through you can hear everything.

I am grateful to NoBusiness for bringing this document to my ears. I realize that margins are tight, but I do wish there was more documentation on this recording. There is a lot of cheap talent out there (yours truly, for example) who would do the research.

Meanwhile, if you have no Marion Brown in your collection, any time after 1972 is a good time to start. The recordings mentioned above are good. This one gives you some dangerous beauty.

Live in Europe 1968 & 1972 by Marion Brown / Gunter Hampel / Barre Phillips / Steve McCall

Moers Lets Down its Hair (Moers Festival 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 08 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Paul Acquaro

55th Moers Festival: May 21 - 25, 2026

Once upon a time, in a land where melodies did not necessarily neatly resolve, there lived a jazz festival known far and wide. Its name traveled on the wind, whispered across oceans, appearing on record sleeves on shelves from Frankfurt to Philadelphia. Many a listener kept treasured vinyl marked with its crest—perhaps a spellbinding Evan Parker incantation, or a tale spun by John Carter.

But one day, as festivals sometimes do when the moon hangs just right, this venerable gathering felt a stirring—a curious, mischievous idea fluttering at its edges. It wondered what might happen if it dared to dream a little differently…

Having spread its wings and expanded its scope, the Moers festival has grown from its avant-garde roots into something much larger. Weaving in modern jazz, new music, poetry, political discourse and more, the theme this year was fairy tales, which the printed program whimsically presented in its surreal prose and thematic illustrations, a densely packed long holiday weekend. The festival unfurled through the old city of Moers — the castle courtyard, the main parking lot and the city park — offering lots to discover and more than one way to enjoy the festivities.

To some, it might have seemed chaotic. To others, perhaps a city festival with lots of food trucks and stands to buy hippie-jewelry and dashikis. And to yet others, it was a rich, off-beat intersection of musical styles, offering unexpected encounters and discoveries. None of these categories are mutually exclusive, so one could also mix and match, being equally bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

***

Moon over the Moers Castle with Rapunzel's escape plan in view

In a cute nod to the fairy tale theme, Rapunzel's long hair hung from the castle's tower, and to its left was the entrance to the courtyard. This was where the festival had begun, 54 years ago, inside the castle walls, before it first moved into the city park and then further out to the city's recreation fields. Today, sitting in the blazing sun of the bright blue late afternoon was drummer Chris Corsano's drum kit, and if you hadn't arrived a half-hour (or more) early, there was not chance to get a shady spot.

Chris Corsano

Corsano began by blowing into a clarinet mouthpiece that vibrated a drum head. He proceeded into the half-hour set that was both rhythmic and melodic, as far as melody goes on the drums. It was a thoroughly engaging improvisation, drawing the listener in close.

Outside the castle, a mere stones throw away, across the packed market place, was the main stage, where trumpeter and composer Nate Wooley, along with the new music group Yarn/Wire (pianists Laura Barger and Julia Den Boer, and percussionists Russell Greenberg and Dustin Donahue) and vocalist Tara Khozein were set to play. Here, the erudite trumpeter was presenting a newly commissioned piece that mixed narrative with modern classical. Long, dramatic passages brought together Scottish author Nan Shepard's mystical stories to the stage and quiet interactions between the musicians provided a charged atmosphere. The two grand pianos framed the music with light, dissonant chords while Wooley's tender passages were adorned with soft whispers and audible breaths. Mostly melancholic, the piece was punctuated by intense crescendoing passages. A brainy set, for sure.

Skylar Tang and Luis Lopes

Ready for a little more free improvisation, the Moers Sessions were calling. So, back through the market and past Rapunzel's locks, to "Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen" (Translation: Where the Wild Frogs Clap) stage area, nestled in a tree-lined grove in the park. Curated by saxophonist Jan Klare, various sessions throughout the festival brought together musicians appearing elsewhere at the festival in new formations and an improvised setting. This evening began with saxophonist Mia Dyberg in dialog with pianist William Schwartzman and drummer Jonathan Schierhorn. Melodic and probing, the tentative trio locked into a groove about half-way into their set, bringing the listeners along an explorative journey. Next up was the assemblage of bassist John Murray, trumpeter Skylar Tang, drummer Sofia Borges, pianist Rieko Okuda and guitarist Luis Lopes. The group seemed split, while Lopes, Borges and Okuda seemed comfortable skirting around an identifiable tonal center, Tang sounded a bit resistant to let it go. The audience did not seem to mind, Lopes' clashing guitar and Tang's attempt at tonalism generated ample, enthusiastic applause.

***

In the Zwergengasse

The city of Moers itself is an eclectic mix of sights. At the intersection of the aforementioned lush city park and old town, featuring the city's castle (or what remains of it), there is a collection of historic churches and buildings, one of which is a picturesque 18th century neo-Renaissance "Altes Landratsamt" (which translates to the rather uninspiring: Old County Administration Building). Then, if one wanders a little further, into the Fussgaengerzone (pedestrian zone), they will pass the old city mansion, the Peschkenhaus (which we'll come back to later) and then just a bit further, the sweetly curious Zwergengasse (The delightfully translated: Dwarves Alley). The latter is a narrow, colorful alley way featuring a house dating from the 1920's adorned with charming carvings - worth a trip if you happen to already be in town.

Ches Smith

Back to the festival: Saturday's adventure begins again at the castle courtyard, this time for percussionist Ches Smith's solo set. It starts with a crash, Smith going at his drum kit full throttle. Flanked by glockenspiel and timpani drums, it was obviously just the opening salvo. The chimes soon came into focus, stark in contrast to the drumming but one could still sense more was still to come! The action then shifted towards the timpani, and playing with expanding and contracting tension, Smith pulled unusual sounds from the instruments around him. At times exploratory and other times hard hitting, the set was another early highlight of the festival.

Returning to the full courtyard after a little wander around the festival grounds to find some dinner, it was time for some high-energy music. After a quick count-off and delivering the head of the first tune, saxophonist Angelica Neiscer was deep into a scorching solo. Her counterparts, cellist Tomeka Reid and drummer Eliza Salem were in cahoots as the cellist played a vibrant bass line and the drummer provided a propulsive tempo. It was a classic piano-less jazz trio, energetic, and though not free-jazz per-se, there was generous freedom within the charts. Case in point: Reid's freak-out solo during the second piece that threw anything written into the metaphorical wind (a little real wind would have been nice, it was hot!).

Bonbon Flamme

An exquisite chaos was already underway on the main stage as Bonbon Flamme's mash-up of cabaret, half-remembered melodies from a black-out night, old-time jazz riffs and skronk guitar filled the air. The audience was enrapt as Cellist Valentin Ceccaldi, keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger, drummer Etienne Ziemniak and guitarist Luis Lopes achieved a new level of musical abandon. As a French chanson segued into prog rock via a wheezy pipe-organ, the cello played a bass-line that triggered an explosive solo from Lopes. As they played, the keyboardist could be seen leaping acrobatically between his many instruments and all of the action on stage was being projected to a giant iPhone screen hanging from a crane to the back left of the audience area. It was a colossal structure with a mix of live and pre-recorded videos playing throughout the performances.

Evi Fillipou's "inEvitable"

Every year at the festival there is an artist-in-residence and this year it was vibraphonist Evi Fillipou, who for the festival assembled an extended version of her ongoing "inEvitable" project. In addition to the ineffable Fillipou on vibes, percussion and singing, this was singer Zuza Jasinska, guitarists Keisuke Matsuno and Arne Braun, bassist Robert Lucaciu, drummers Marius Wankel and Jim Hart, and saxophonist Daniel Glatzel. They kicked off the set with a strikingly rhythmic piece, accentuated with rave-up vocals and crashing waves of percussion, perhaps better said, they projected a party vibe. Drawing from a panapoly of musical styles, the music shifted from lithe scatting in Greek to smokey vocal jazz to heavy rock grooves. In addition to the prominent percussion, Matsuno and Braun's guitar work brought a wide sonic palette to the stage, painting a soundscape with distorted smears and blistering jabs. High octane, tight and effervescent, it was a show surely worthy of the artist-in-residence title.

***

In the city park are a thousand baby bunnies. Every 20 minute walk from the hotel to the festival grounds along the creek and fields was a stroll through a menagerie of cuteness accompanied by a symphony of frogs, kind of a fairy-tale ready experience itself.

Evi Fillipou, Tomeka Reid, Luis Lopes, Angelia Niescier. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Mid-morning Sunday in the castle courtyard, the next Moers Session was starting - this time, three sets. The first grouping was Evi Fillipou fresh off the previous night's success, along with Angelika Niescier, Luis Lopes and Tomeka Reid. Niescier started things off with a free-jazz blast from her saxophone, which was followed by some hovering tones from Fillipous' vibraphone. Angular jabs from Lopes' guitar and low-register strikes from Reid's cello responded in kind. It was a strong 25-minute warm up, and though short, it was unrushed, unfolding with collective purpose. The next grouping was comprised of Jonathan Schierhorn on drums, Sophie Cooper on trombone, Bella Comsom on electronics and Hyunjeong Park on gayageum. Their set began with a gentle thrum of electronics supporting the deep, round tones of the gayageum, a Korean zither. Then, following the entry of the drums and trombone, the group gelled expressively. The final set featured session organizer Jan Klare on sax, Fulco Ottervanger on keyboards, Florence Christman on electronics and Bruna Cabral on drums. Klare set the direction: a series of syncopated lines augmented by Cabral's percussion. Then came an underlying buzz from the electronics while a dark organ sound welled from the keyboards. The set soon took gathered momentum as the sax, drums and keys locked into a flowing, effusive groove. Extroverted Ottervanger injected some gentle humor into the set, dueting with Klare on a harmonium at one point and adding a sci-fi synthesizer interlude.

The morning stretched out into the afternoon, lunches were eaten, music absorbed, and acquaintances old and new encountered. Then, under the late afternoon sun, the Dwarves of East Aguza took the main stage. The crowd was slowly filtering in as they began a steady brooding groove. Guitarist Sam Shalabi played a mix of rhythm and brittle, agitated melodic phrases. A beguiling mix of primitivism and middle eastern flair, it locked in with Maurice Louca's electronic pulsations perfectly. At this point, Alan Bishop's guitar merged sonically with the electronics. He soon switched to saxophone and over the mutating oscillations, he smeared notes and phrases across the musical canvas. Through the mix of exotic rhythms and droning tones, the music flowed hypnotically.

Between the Dwarves and the next set, a volunteer 'moersfriends' tried asking for donations from the main stage, however his pitch was drowned out by a relentless noise. Throughout the festival, from the sound system surrounding the stage, recordings of different Trump speeches played simultaneously. It was the Bösewicht (German for villain) that the hero of every fairly tale encounters. All part and parcel of the theme, it was a clever but rather disturbing reminder of the raging real world. As the break continued, paper crowns decorated by local school children were handed out to the audience so everyone could be king (or queen) for one day.

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY offered a diversion. The group with Mitchell on flute and vocals, Coco Elysses on didley bow and vocals, JoVia Armstrong on percussion and vocals, and Zahili Gonzalez Zamora on keys (everyone also had a touch of electronics) had been formed around the concept of Afro-Folk-Futurism and their first song strove to build a confessional intimacy with the audience. Spoken words about neurodivergence were augmented by thrilling flute work and driving percussion. The group's second song already offered a sing-along part, bringing the crowd and band even closer together.

As the late afternoon slid slowly into dusk, it was almost time for the "Secret Concert". Migrating through the city park, past the frolicking baby bunnies and croaking frogs, early ticket buyers and other Moers friends made their way to the event hall in the recreation area, where the previous year's main concerts had been staged. There, a group conceived by Nate Wooley with percussionists Chris Corsano and Ches Smith as an 'anything goes' improvising trio, were set to perform.

Ches Smith, Nate Wooley, Chris Corsano. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Wooley was welcomed to the stage by the crowd singing a happy birthday tune, but was eager go get into the set. His opening electronic tones set an atmospheric buzz. The two drummers then added an extra charge of energy. Smith soon activated his own electronics, bringing the opening fanfare to an early peak. A new tune began to then emerge, a gentle, folksy melody from the trumpet supported by percussion from Corsano. As the intensity increased, Wooley used his trumpet to create the sounds of gale winds as Corsano added the wail of whales though his own inventive, acoustic means. It was an expressive and impressive set, a real aural treat.

Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra

On the trip back to the main festival grounds, the sun had set, and as a stillness covered the lush park, the frogs were in full song. At the main stage, the evening was wrapping up with Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra, a large ensemble out of Leipzig who were performing the final installment of a piece developed as a three part fairy-tale (the other parts had been performed on the previous days). Combining improvisation, jazz, classical, a choir, and the multimedia of the giant iPhone screen, the sonically dramatic final installment brought contrasting passages of calm and turbulence with an intentional and slightly tongue-in-cheek holiness to the stage. An informal survey revealed it to be an unexpected highlight for many of the concert goers.

As the evening bled into the night, throughout the festival grounds and nearby churches, a tribute to 20th-century avant-garde composer Morton Feldman was just starting up. Stretching into the late evening hours, the festival commemorated the composer's 100th birthday with several performances of his well-known works, such as "Rothko Chapel" and "Melancholie des Verschwindens." A gentle coda to the day.

***

The final day of the festival began with a crushing line at the Peschkenhaus. A hot sun made the line to get in and the performance space a stifling experience. Why the wait? In the attic room of the stately 18th century manor, now a meeting space and art gallery, guitarist/oudist Gordon Grdina was set to perform with drummer Christian Lillinger and keyboardist Elias Stemeseder.

Christian Lillinger, Gordon Grdina, Elias Stemeseder

Grdina began the show on a well work electro-acoustic guitar along with taps and thwaks from Lillinger, and blips and bloops from Stemeseder. This was merely an intro to a very rhythmic improvisation that snow-balled as the textural guitar work and burbling synthesizer, pushed along by the precise percussive jabs, found their footing. For a heart-pounding ten minutes, the group pressed at full speed until a break in the tension, during which Grdina switched to the oud. The large stringed instrument projected a thumping bass sound, setting the group off in a fresh new direction. The set ended with Lillinger and Stemeseder both navigating the deep space of electronics.

Sam Shalabi

A compelling solo guitar set from Sam Shalabi followed. Exploring the instrument through arpeggiated, microtonal blocks of sound and lite distortion, the Dwarves of East Aguza guitarist conjured images of specious desert landscapes with wisps of dry wind blowing swirls of sand. The notes themselves seemed less important than the mood they set.

Drifting out into the heat of the early afternoon, the shady Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen stage was the next destination to catch the end of percussionist/composer Bex Burch's set. Angelika Niescier was wrapping up another fiery solo as the group segued into a gentle, unfolding piece with the band acting mainly as a choir. Long minimal interludes led to moments of feverish saxophone and, for a brief moment, it felt good to let a little time slip by in the afternoon humidity.

Knobil

Swiss bassist and singer Knobil was another fine discovery of the festival. A mix of singer-songwriter and a swinging free improvisation, Louise Knobil, along with the engrossing bass clarinet work of Chloé Marsigny and drumming of Vincent Andreae, played a compelling set on the main stage. Between sweet banter and wonderfully syncopated melodic songs, Knobil was a welcome late afternoon refresher.

Gordon Grdina's RU'YA

In the early evening, Gordon Grdina's RU'YA, his headlining project, took the stage. With Grdina on guitar and oud, the group featured vocalist Ghalia Benali, violinist Eylem Basaldi, keyboardist Elias Stemeseder, percussionist Hamin Honari and drummer Christian Lillinger. The group's project had begun as a commission for Berlin's Boulez Saal, a center for contemporary classical and Middle Eastern music, and seems to have taken on a life of its own. A mix of passionate, evocative music, the lyrics in Arabic expressed messages of family, loss, hope and peace against a backdrop of Arabic and Western instrumentation. The insistence of Lillinger's drumming, the deep vibrations of Grdina's oud and the intense rhythmic playing from Honari, along with the vibrant violin and keyboards made for lively, urgent music. An exciting and engaging show.

As the closing act for the festival, saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin brought a spirited energy that fit well into the overall eclectic-ness of the program. Her act, with a strong mix of showmanship and musicianship, can and did transcend audiences.

Lakecia Benjamin

Decked out in a stylish, shiny outfit, fully in command of the stage and audience, and backed by the top-notch playing of pianist Oscar Perez, bassist Elias Bailey and drummer Dorian Phelps, her approach is one that can both satisfy many of the jazz-purists and engage far more of the jazz-curious. One could complain, for example, that her take on John Coltrane's 'My Favorite Things' hit the high-notes too soon, but then again, it also sounded great - festival audience approved - and she even threw the deep listeners a bone by quoting 'Giant Steps' at a breakneck tempo. Perez's piano work complimented the saxophonist's energy as he led the group with a spiritual tune before they ended with some high-energy funk.

***

And just like that, the festival dissolved into the night: a long week end of music, more than 2,000 tickets sold, and some estimated 20,000 curious souls wandering through the free concerts and market place, taking in whatever caught their eyes and ears. And they all lived happily ever after ....

Jorge Nuno - Memórias em chamas

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

An austere visual for a delicate exploration - Portuguese guitarist Jorge Nuno's second solo recording A ilha Revisitado is out now on Thödol Records. In this video by Mariana Felix, a seemingly abandoned structure is contrasted against a yellowed sky at dusk. Nuno's slashing playing, atonal and rhythmic, form the songs jagged structures.

Aaron Wyanski – Schoenberg in Hi Fo Pierrot Lunaire Op. 21 (Speculative Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Aaron Wyanski is a man on a mission. He is a pianist, composer, and musicologist. Wyanski has been a featured composer at festivals and major events and has held a deep fascination with the atonality and compositional style of Arnold Schoenberg since he was young. This recording Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, OP.21, sees Wyanski continue his ongoing exploration and homage to Schoenberg via the medium of jazz, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi. You have to be free-thinking to understand what Wyanski is intending with his Schoenberg in Hi-Fi series, of which this recording is another step. Wyanski coined the title “speculative musicologist” to describe the project, which is a series of albums and performances that explore a speculative reality in which Schoenberg’s music was intentionally marketed as lounge/exotica as part of the late 1950s LP boom in mid-century America. Wyanski takes Schoenberg and rearranges it, dropping in a large portion of jazz and enhancing the atonal concepts – hiding sweet inventions to be found and making Schoenberg accessible to an even wider listening audience. It might not seem to fit a free jazz take – until you hear it. Then, it makes sense. I was lucky enough to see Wyanski’s work performed in one of London’s major free jazz venues – Café Oto, and the audience there loved it.

On this recording, Wyanski radically rearranges Arnold Schoenberg’s atonal masterpiece, Pierrot Lunaire OP.21 with vocals performed with glorious decadence by soprano Anna Elder. In the alternate reality where Schoenberg is marketed to mass Mid-century audiences, it would coincide with the rise of high-fidelity audio. Many albums were being sold by boasting “you’ve never heard sounds like this before.” In Wyanski’s universe, that means freedom, and the sounds might come from a real or imagined faraway place. Or the sounds of outer space. Or an eclectic orchestration. Or an experimental approach to the new possibilities afforded by stereo sound. Or all of these.

An interesting feature of Schoenberg in Hi-Fi as a whole is that, aside from percussion, nothing is added or removed from Schoenberg’s work. As a result, while the transformations can sound radical, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi becomes a new lens to experience what is already in Schoenberg’s scores. Wyanski calls this practice speculative musicology.

On how he and Elder came to collaborate, Wyanski comments, “Anna and I met while both participating in the summer festival New Music on the Point and got to know each other better while we were both living in Pittsburgh a few years later. After my first Schoenberg in Hi-Fi release, she wrote me a very kind email and said that it reminded her of Yma Sumac, whom she used to make and perform transcriptions of, so she really got the whole exotica angle. She also mentioned that she was getting ready to perform Pierrot later that season. Seeing this opening as the once-in-a-lifetime possibility that it was, my response was, "Hey, want to make a Pierrotalbum with me?" and I consider myself extremely lucky that she agreed. I couldn't have asked for a better collaborator. There is a wide range of performance practices for the vocals in Pierrot, but the fierce accuracy of her approach I find especially well-suited for Schoenberg in Hi-Fi."

Wyanski has struck gold with Elder. Her vocals are rangy, and she also has an ability to not only be note-perfect but also to infuse a laid-back sense of decadence and humour into her singing.

There are twenty-one tracks on this recording, and they seem to fly past, as Schoenberg is given the interpretation he possibly deserved. Elder introduces elements such as a wonderful swinging sassiness on ‘Madonna’ while the essence of Schonenberg looms large on ‘Mondestrunken’ and Der Kranke Mond,’ albeit with a slight touch of Austin Powers sixties tones in the latter. The ears occasionally find themselves most definitely pricked as Schoenberg’s delectation for atonality and dissonance is explored.

A delightful confluence of classical music, jazz and, well, something completely different, this music is an exploration not just of Schoenberg’s style and workings but also a development of several areas where dissonance becomes almost harmonic. In every chord, it can be argued, all the notes are present, and dissonance is created when you rearrange and reorganize them, something that Schoenberg and his ilk took delight in and then unleashed on unsuspecting audiences – sometimes to their liking.

It is similar here, and the listener is drawn in if they are curious enough, or brave enough, to venture beyond the expectations of expected resolutions to sequences, progressions, or musical cadences, whether perfect, interrupted, or imperfect. What is most intriguing about the music is not its sixties tones, or slightly irksome embellishments, but its hidden notes, the sudden drops and changes, or the beautiful, crazy vocal lines.

When I reviewed Wyanski before, I said that free jazz appreciators will understand. This music makes complete sense. It still does, and Schoenberg still has a lot to show us.

Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, Op. 21 by Aaron Wyanski and Anna Elder

Thomas Morgan - Around You Is A Forest (Loveland, 2025)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sarah "Flake" Grosser

Thomas Morgan is an enigma. An anomaly in a scene dominated by popularity contests and loud, explosive personalities, fierce networking, and hustling at the after-show hang. And while it’s not atypical for upright bassists to tend towards introversion, Thomas’s default setting seems to be permanently locked into the same mode: ultra calm. It’s impossible to decipher the thought process behind his perfect technique and razor-sharp focus. Whether he is executing a series of miraculous double stops, or a simple, understated, beautiful melody; to watch or hear Thomas play is to witness his magic. It’s no surprise then that his work reflects his demeanour: softly spoken, calculated, deliberate, and above all, original.

For his 2025 debut release on Jakob Bro’s Loveland label, Thomas has mostly placed his bass to the side, in favour of an algorithmic instrument he invented, called WOODS; an acronym for “WOODS Often Oscillates Droning Strings”. With the timbre reminiscent of a muted plucked guqin or similar stringed instrument from the east, WOODS is deceptively acoustic-sounding. In the first song “Around You Is A Forest,” (a reference to the 1976 text-based computer game “Adventure”), Thomas duets with himself on both upright bass and WOODS. The rapid plucks spring in random rhythmic patterns from speaker to speaker, like rain pitter-pattering gently against a glass window.

The rest of the album is a series of duets with an exhaustive cast of brilliant jazz musicians, all male (unfortunately), but undeniably diverse and talented. These duets feature Thomas only on WOODS and are seemingly improvised works ranging in length from around five to sixteen minutes.

“Eddies” sees drummer Dan Weiss on the tabla in a lively groove while the WOODS explores rhythmic arpeggios and shifting melodies. It’s a stark contrast to “Dream Sequence” which begins with pianist Craig Taborn on a synth reminiscent of a forgotten horror film. It gradually morphs into a dreamy wafting soundscape complete with watery samples, bird tweets, and warm lush string pads. All while the WOODS continues to rapidly, subtly flitter around their strange, imaginary world.

“Through the Trees” continues our sonic forest adventure with Gerald Cleaver on a drumkit recorded with a distinctly characteristic mid-hall echo. Meanwhile, “In the Dark” brings us back to a nostalgic uneasiness with layers of atonal warbling flute from Henry Threadgill. “Assembly of All Beings” features layers of Ambrose Akinmusire on the trumpet dueting with WOODS and himself, in a series of long squeals and sustained notes used to create chords. This layering is also apparent via Bill Frisell’s contemplative, earnest acoustic guitar, topped with pepperings of electric and the slightest distorted fuzz on “Rising From The West.” Bright, soaring tones from Immanuel Wilkin’s saxophone are layered with peeps and toots in “Murmuration.” The addition of Gary Snyder's spoken-word poetry on "Here" brings the album to a warm and satisfying conclusion.

From start to finish, it’s hard to tell exactly what Thomas is actually doing, or indeed, what WOODS really is. Repeated listenings only raise even more questions. But this is all part of the mystery that is Thomas Morgan - there’s so much more to this forest than just the trees.

(Many of those questions are actually answered HERE, via the Transitional Technology Substack, in a guest essay penned by Thomas himself. In this great feature he shares his childhood experiences with music, programming, and how these early influences shaped the creation of WOODS, and this debut record.)

Around You Is A Forest by Thomas Morgan

Diatribes & Jean-Luc Guionnet – L’apport: An awkward position (Insub, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Diatribes, the duo of Cyril Bondi on the drums and d’ incise on electronics, has been, in and out, running for twenty years. Their take on bridging improvisation with microtonal small scale compositions has always been traveling with guests that were equal parts of the aforementioned procedure. Here, on this CD, they revive all this by welcoming saxophonist and improviser Jean-Luc Guionnet.

Using the verb welcoming is not an accident for sure. Guionnet has for a very long time a champion of an experimental approach towards the saxophone –towards the orthodoxy of sound making I dare say. So is the duo of diatribes. Here, on the always full of surprises Insub label, they collectively try, maybe even struggle, to create symbolisms. Symbolisms that have shaped improvisation as a genre and practice against hierarchy in music. Questions are posed as to what is music when it comes to established realities of its tradition: melody, soloing, playing aggressively in order to be heard (the antithesis: microtonal playing), what is this tradition of, especially them, drums and saxophone in jazz’s history.

The addition of a third person in diatribes’ quest for total freedom in producing sounds, makes things even more complicated, even if Guionnet knows his way well into those uncharted territories. Sudden, small scale, eruptions of notes by the saxophone are followed –or going along- by low key drumming (even with some rhythmic patterns from time to time) and the electronics, along with other unknown sound sources, of d’incise that glue all this together.

It is not an easy task for sure. The sounds that come out of this cd are demanding –both towards the listener, as they were by their producers. Many times the tracks of L'apport: An awkward position feel like a work in progress. Accepting the practicalities of sound mediums, like duration, all six of them, clocking just less than forty minutes, could be excursion into the unknown. Long distance runners in collective improvisation.

Listen here:

L'apport : An awkward position by DIATRIBES & JEAN-LUC GUIONNET

@koultouranafigo

Andy Haas – In Praise of Insomnia (Resonant Music, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 03 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Matty Bannond

Up to 35 percent of adults in the US have symptoms of insomnia (according to a 2025 study ). But those people’s night-time struggles vary significantly. They may have difficulty falling asleep, staying asleep or returning to sleep. Patients can suffer short-term or chronic afflictions. And the condition can be linked to anxiety, depression, chronic pain or other conditions.

This twelve-track album by improvising saxophonist Andy Haas expresses the peculiarities of those various bedtime hardships—from overactive synapses and hyperactive fingertips to loneliness, self-pity and despair. It was recorded on the Winter Solstice of 2025 and presents Haas alone with his saxophones, as well as a Nano Pulsar pedal that chops, splits and reshapes his instrument’s sound.

Nifty pedalwork opens up an expansive spectrum of manipulated outputs. Several tracks feature duplicate voices that suggest Haas talking to himself in the twilight. “Heart Less” involves two long-note drones that start at opposite ends of the saxophone’s register and meet in the middle. “This Dark Land” uses a similar technique, with voices helixing around a central pattern of changing pitch.

Bursts of sound and oscillating frequencies are also common textural tricks. On “An Attenuated Goodbye”, a bluesy initial passage flits from singing to silence and back again. “The Cold Inside Us” has a piercing, car-alarm quality. Both pieces remind the listener of nights where a painful incident from the past refuses to subside or a concern about the future declines to wait until morning.

Amid the midnight misery, there is a playful property to this thirty-minute experiment. In general, Haas tends to favor the higher register of his instrument. This adds a squeaky cheekiness to tracks like “Sense Less” and “Sleep Less”. His playing has a more noodly nature here, like a person exploring the liberating options that become available when the rest of humanity is in the sack.

In Praise of Insomnia balances tonal and textural variety with recurring motifs, methodologies and moods. Although Andy Haas is a detail-driven artist, his improvisations often express a light-humored and capricious temper. This album is unlikely to help anybody fall asleep, stay asleep or return to sleep. But it might coax their mind down intriguing paths while they navigate restless hours in the day or the night.

The album is available on CD and as a digital download here .

In Praise of Insomnia (2026) by Andy Haas

Cath Roberts and Olie Brice - Setpieces (Relative Pitch, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 02 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Hrayr Attarian

English saxophonist Cath Roberts is an innovative improviser and composer, a graphic artist, organizer, and educator. Roberts’ frequent collaborator and compatriot, bassist Olie Brice, is equally imaginative as his music blurs the line between pre-written and spontaneously created. The pair shares sublime camaraderie, and their professional relationship enhances the brilliance of their individual expressions. All this is fully displayed on their 2026 duo release the provocative Setpieces.

The album starts on a riotous note with “Tensile”. Roberts’ fiery refrains spar with Brice’s angular, con arco lines. The delightfully dissonant dialogue seamlessly goes from a passionate, extroverted repartee to parallel introspective musings. Robert’s reverberating baritone complements Brice’s darkly hued bass as their respective improvisations elegantly waver between converging and going their separate ways.

This stimulating conversation continues on “Cascades”. Both Roberts and Brice, individually and together, channel more boppish sensibilities without limiting the freedom of their performances. Roberts’ alto has an incandescent, lyrical edge, while Brice creates a dynamic framework with his resonant tones. He plays increasingly complex melodic fragments, to which Roberts responds with agile, muscular phrases.

The two musicians mirror one another with clever and inventive ways to make their duets more than the addition of two separate solos. On the melancholic “Anthills”, for instance, Roberts’ pops match Brice’s plucked note

s while the saxophonist’s pensive undulations complement the bassist’s dramatic drones. The track grows more wistful as it progresses to its conclusion, and the captivating tension keeps the mood expectant.

The poetic sense and intriguing ambiance crystallize on “Shadow Puppets”. Both musicians echo each other with long, mournful soliloquies. Then, as the tune evolves, Roberts’ elegiac extemporization weaves a complex path through Brice’s intricate rhythmic tapestry. The discourse is laced with mysticism, especially as Brice’s dark, percussive passages intermix with Roberts’ warm, yearning ones.

This stimulating work showcases the imaginative creativity of two improvisational masters. It is also a perfect example of a sublime balance between individualism and collaborative teamwork. The result is one of the best releases of 2026 so far.

Setpieces by Cath Roberts & Olie Brice

Jacopo Ferrazza & Sebastian Marino - Apeiron (Teal Dreamers, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 01 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Apeiron is the new project by double bassist and composer Jacopo Ferrazza and pianist and composer Sebastian Marino, released on CD and digital formats on Teal Dreamers Factory.

The press release says that on the album, ‘double bass, piano, and experimental electronics coexist without hierarchies, generating a sound environment in which timbral origins often become indistinguishable.’ But a listen reveals this is not quite true. The timbral origins of the instruments and the electronics are distinguishable, with the deep body of the bass providing a definitive, characteristic timbre that no electronics can replicate. What does happen, however, is that the sounds of the double bass as it is played with the bow, or pizzicato, the piano, and the electronics of the mini-Moog, synth, and Hammond, intermingle and entwine, creating an effect akin to multi-instrumental music, yet the nuances and sonic elements of bass and piano are discernible. The electronics act as an extension of the instrumental dialogue through which the two musicians expand the possibilities of listening and interaction. Interestingly, the music circles around a poem:

Close Your Eyes
And Step Beyond the Edge of What You Know
There Is a Flame Inside You
Ancient Patient Waiting
It Has No Name
It Has No Beginning
It Is the Breath Before the First Word Was Spoken
Feel It
Rising Softly Through Your Spine
Like Liquid Gold in the Dark
You Are Not the Body
You Are Not the Thought
You Are the Pulse Beneath the Silence
Let the World Dissolve
Let the Noise Fall Away
There Is Only This Moment
This Warmth This Sacred Unfolding
Whisper to Yourself: I Remember
Because You Do
You Have Always Known
And Now the Flame Awakens

Each track is titled as a line from the poem, so both the concept and the music create a whole. The music is divided into two macro blocks, the first ten tracks form Epanastasi (Repetition) and the second eleven form Oneiro (Dreams). The title Apeiron is Greek and means boundless or undefined, and is apt for the music, which sees the musicians create landscapes of sound ranging from gentle whispers of entreaty to forceful, expressive density. Each track forms its own encapsulated narrative yet is linked to the rest of the music in subtle ways. The relentless repetition of the piano note on ‘Close Your Eyes’, surrounded by experimental, explorative sounds, is intense, yet somehow compelling as it leads to the short, intense forty-six seconds of ‘And Step beyond The Edge of What You Know’, which melds itself into ‘There is A Flame Inside You’, which feels almost ecclesiastical with its organ lines and vocal electronics. The bass swells in glorious tones out of the generous mix of sound, and the piano gently calms the madness that appears to be present in the music. You can almost feel the intention of Ferrazza, which, he describes as creating music, “where bass, piano and electronics function as a single evolving system.” There is a sense of the instruments feeding each other ideas, snippets to develop and run with, or shifts in mind and direction.

The lines of the poem as track titles offer concepts but rarely fit the atmosphere of the track to which they are assigned – but here the poem is a tool to weld the music together and give a route to follow, whether that is strictly or using diverse routes. The music unfolds, it is dynamic and, in places, terrifyingly beautiful in its fragility. Like on ‘Ancient Patient Waiting,’ where Ferrazza’s bass rises, its voice a gorgeous solo, its timbre palpable, the sounds swirling around the wooden body of the instrument and emerging smooth and warm, or the gentleness of both piano and bass on ‘It Has No Name.’

There are several standout tracks, including ‘It Has No Beginning,’ with its otherworldly atmosphere, which merges seamlessly into ‘It Is The Breath Before The First Word Was Spoken’ where deep electronics and synth lines give this a seventies prog vibe.

Both musicians have classical groundings, and this reveals itself in their harmonies and naturally evolving chordal episodes on some tracks, including the dynamic and emotive ‘Feel It.’

I found nothing but good in this music; the evolution of sounds is dynamic and interesting, so that even someone who is not fond of synth or Hammond found it incredibly engaging. The minds of these two musicians come together through their instruments to make music that is astonishing in the many ways it manages to engage the listener.

Both musicians have space to shine – like the bass rising on ‘Like Liquid Gold In The Dark’ and ‘You Are Not The Body,’ where Ferrazza finds endless elements of the instrument, or the piano on ‘You Are Not The Thought.’

Some tracks are an entity of their own, while others merge into each other, broken not by a change of tempo but a change of direction, slight then deliberate and divergent. Like from ‘You Are the Pulse Beneath the Silence’ to’ Let the World Dissolve.’

The second block of tracks (dreams) seems like one narrative, with different chapters, the music a changing dialogue. There are more electronic sounds in this block, and on ‘Whisper to Yourself I Remember,’ there is a sense of a hellscape as voices and strange electronic background sounds make the music rather than instruments.

Interestingly enough, truculent piano, swooping bass, and weird electric sounds work a treat, like on ‘You Have Always Known.’ The final track sees a return to piano and bass playing at its best and most expressive.

This is a different step, as Ferrazza says, from his previous work. The album was fully improvised and recorded in a single session with no editing. The music unfurls through listening, tension, silence, and real-time transformation, moving between free improvisation and a more textural, electroacoustic space.

Ferrazza said he felt this might resonate with my interest in exploratory and boundary-crossing music, and he was right, but this music will resonate with many listeners because it is energetic when it needs to be, quiet when this is called for, and the music seems to follow an exquisite rhythm that somehow is defined and sits beautifully in the mind of the listener.

It is a testimony to how good musical dialogue becomes when musicians have a long association, such as the fifteen years of working together behind Ferrazza and Marino. I cannot recommend this album more.

Apeiron by Jacopo Ferrazza & Sebastian Marino

Joel Harrison and Friends - In a Silent Way Reimagined

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 31 May 2026 04:00:00 +0000

A few weeks ago we shared a video from a group out of Germany taking electric Miles out for a spin. Seems like they aren't the only ones - here is guitarist Joel Harrison with some folks certainly known to the readers of the blog jamming on In a Silent Way" at Big Ears this past year. There is a recording of the whole meet-up that is slated for release in August.

To cap off our Miles Davis tribute week, here is 'In a Silent Way Reimagined' with Chad Taylor, Jerome Harris, Micah Thomas, Sam Sadigursky, Brandon Seabrook, Tim Keiper and Joel Harrison.

Miles Davis @ 100 - A Celebration Through Albums (6)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 30 May 2026 04:00:00 +0000

The final day of our celebration of Miles Davis at 100. See day 1, day 2, day 3, and day 4 respectively.

By Paul Acquaro

Bitches Brew ... the first time I heard it, I was in high school. A friend had beaten me to the jazz-rock trough and had been drinking liberally. He effused about Billy Cobham, talked in hushed tones about Mahavishnu Orchestra and conspiratorially name dropped the title of Miles Davis' electric masterwork. Coming from a steady diet of Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and Violent Femmes, I wasn't so sure I shared in the taste, yet. I picked up a copy of Bitches Brew and popped it into the tape machine ... and I didn't get it. It was chaotic and harsh to my then tender, structure-addicted ears. Today, I hear only creamy tones and fluffy textures, I can not imagine not luxuriating in the sweet drippings of a Fender Rhodes, but that was then. What turned out was, I really needed was a gentler introduction, an opening of my taste buds to the exotic riches on offer, what it turned out I needed was the 1968 release Filles De Kilimanjaro, the first of the so called 'Directions in Music' labeled albums that was used on Mile's electric output until 1973.

Filles De Kilimanjaro (Columbia, 1969)

A so-called transitional album, Filles De Kilimanjaro featured the 'second great quintet' with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Tony Williams and Wayne Shorter on the first recording session. On a second session, Davis replaced Hancock and Carter with Chick Corea and Dave Holland. The resulting album found electric keyboard and bass along side their acoustic counterparts, looser musical structures, and the introduction of more straight-ahead rhythm and melodic snippets and statements. The near hypnotic pulse of the opening track 'Frelon brun' and the crispy blasts of trumpet on 'Petits Machins' fascinated me. However, it was the title track that had the most power effect. The electric bass most of all, driving and simple, it anchored the music. I finally heard the trumpeter's melodies and the shimmering keyboard work in their fullness. Here was Davis and his luminous crew laying the foundations for the even more abstracted constructions on Bitches Brew. By then, Teo Macero would be cutting and pasting together the long jams into tracks, but at this point they were still somewhat traditional songs. This was the gateway for me, I began developing the taste for electric Miles Davis music that sustains me to this day.

Star People (Columbia, 1983)

A little later in my listening life, a slightly tattered copy of the Miles Davis box-set The CBS Years 1955 - 1985, which I likely picked up at Princeton Record Exchange for dirt cheap, did it again. This time, I was caught by surprise by the track 'Star on Cicely.' I hadn't yet progressed into 80s Miles, or rather, the snippets that I had listened hadn't generated the enthusiasm I felt for the 'electric Miles' period. Something changed with this one. Excerpted from the 1983 album Star People, 'Star on Cicely' had an unexpected rocking punch to it. The music is slicker than the 70s output, song structure is back and Miles' playing is sharp. What I liked even more was the guitar work on the album, which was primarily Mike Stern with some contributions from John Scofield. Apparently, the head melody of the track was derived from an improvised line that Scofield played - though I'm not sure where I got that information from - regardless the song that was subsequently crafted had a lot of moxie. The album itself is rather joyful. The opening track, 'Come Get It,' is a barn-burner, with Davis ablaze on the track, bassist Marcus Miller providing a funk grounding, and Stern comping with spunk. I don't care for everything on the album, elements of 'Speak' and 'U 'n' I' are harbingers of cheesier times coming, but at least 3/4 of this album still resonates for me.

I learned about the live recordings We Want Miles! and Miles! Miles! Miles! a little later and tracked down both albums, both of which captured the magical moments found on Star People.

Bill Laswell - Panthalassa: The Music of Miles Davis 1969–1974 (Sony, 1998)

Last but not least, I must mention Bill Laswell's masterful remix album Panthalassa. This album rewired my musical brain again when it came out in '98. Laswell used Davis' electric era music as a source, and employed the studio to emphasize and de-emphasize different instruments, mixing the impressionistic sounds of In a Silent Way to give it a new punch, adding a dub foundation to parts of Agharta to work up a different mood and finding a new song in 'He Loved Him Madly.' Sad that a follow-up to Panthalassa never made it to release.

I could keep on going, as I slobber ecstatically when thinking of Live-Evil, Tribute to Jack Johnson, Big Fun, Get Up with It, On the Corner, At Fillmore, Dark Magus, Agartha and Pangaea, but I think you get the picture.

Miles Davis @ 100 - A Celebration Through Albums (5)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 29 May 2026 04:00:00 +0000

Day four of our celebration of Miles Davis at 100. See day one, two and three.

Pangaea (Columbia, 1975)

The influence that Bitches Brew had on jazz and music in general is impossible to overstate, a monumental album that set the course for generations of musicians to come and made waves so huge their ripples are still being felt today. But Bitches was only the beginning and the aesthetic that Davis started developing on it and later expanded on On the Corner only finally found its real apex with Pangaea.

Like all the best jazz albums, Pangaea was recorded live (on the same day as the also excellent Agartha) and, to me, it's the gold standard for what a live album should be. The music is ecstatic and full of life, the interplay is unmatched, the rhythm section is relentless, the solos blistering. The two long improvisations are expertly developed, not a second goes to waste and the whole band is in a state of grace and ferocious intensity. We could call what the musicians are doing here Fusion, but with none of the cheese, empty virtuosity, plasticky lack of teeth and all other negative connotations that the genre has accrued through the years. This record has plenty of teeth, it's true, unadulterated black music. It's a long, heavy journey that's sometimes straight ahead rocking, sometimes funky and, at the end, even swinging, almost as if going full circle on a career that redefined what jazz could be many times.

Davis spent his entire life searching and evolving, uncaring of the opinions of critics and listeners, and nowhere is that attitude more obvious than on this record. It's yet another testament to Davis' vision and ability as bandleader. Unapologetic, self-indulgent (in the best way), raw and expressive, it feels as vital and visceral today as it must have felt 51 years ago. Most of all, it's a really good time.

- William Rossi

Agartha (Columbia, 1975)

Grew up with it. It was the first and for a long time the only Miles Davis album I was exposed to, recorded (live in Japan) and released the year of my birth. Along with just as cryptic to my Southern rural France ears Herbie Hancock's Thrust and Sun Ra's Atlantis – it opened my listening vistas and shaped my aesthetic compass to a considerable degree, in spite of or because it took forever to « get it ». With a sense of danger as if the black discs would burn my fingers, unlock an ancient curse, I regularly extracted the double LP from my stepfather's record collection, cautiously positioned one side on the turntable and, sitting on the floor, would lose myself in its unfathomable, esoteric mysteries, that began even before the music (side length jams that already felt like a transgression – with the whole of side A titled « Prelude »... which, as it that wasn't enough, continued on part of side B!) resounded. The inner sleeve had winged angels or devils perched on stairs next to temple pillars. The front cover showed a megacity possibly shrouded in smog or/and enduring a heatwave, surrounded by tropical vegetation and Polynesian women – while a variant on the back had sea lifeforms instead of palm trees and a spaceship in the middle, an idea which must have been in the air since a celestial vehicle also adorned Parliament's Mothership Connection that year. Hendrixian guitars on the loose, hard-driving beats, simple and unrelenting electric bass lines, wild organ outbursts (I later linked Miles' haphazard-yet-awesome organ playing to that of Fela Kuti and James Brown) made up the ingredients of the stew, while the jazz elements mostly came from Sonny Fortune's saxophones and flute solos; meanwhile, Miles' plugged trumpet seemed more interested in being an element of the textural and rhythmical whole than in occupying the front spot for too long. This music didn't make sense, as far as what I had been told about the artform. Sprawled over the whole of side C, « Interlude » (!) was propelled by a rapid-fire riff that Miles re-used a decade later on You're Under Arrest's « Street Scenes » (aka « Theme from Jack Johnson / Intro » on the 2022-revealed version without overdubs on That's What Happened - The Bootleg Series vol.7). Funkier than a fish market. Odd, disquieting percussion noises gave the relatively gentler but no less befuddling side D its peculiar mood. Back in the day, I didn't think of looking up the musicians' names nor had the slighest idea where they came from, what their lives and experiences were like. Somehow this alien music was telling me something about them on a deeper level, which I'm still sensitive to, to this day.

- David Cristol

Inner gatefold

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Cookin’ (Prestige, 1957)

My first conscious encounter with jazz came through two records: John Coltrane’s Blue Train and Miles Davis’s Ballads & Blues . These two CDs were part of a magazine collection sold at newsstands, for a reasonable price. The Ballads & Blues compilation brings together tracks from different sessions and, while not especially coherent, its warm sound and velvety ballads still fascinate me. I gradually explored Miles’ discography and eventually arrived at the records Cookin’, Relaxin’, Steamin’, Workin ’. Of these, Cookin’ grabbed my attention the most. The sleeve design, simple and perfect. Just four tracks: opener “My Funny Valentine”, eternally beautiful, here made even more so by the sharp-edged trumpet; “Blues by Five”, which bluesy piano won me over on first listen and opened the way for the trumpet, which seemed to enter timidly before fully asserting itself; “Airegin”, with its supersonic rhythm and the horns in unison; “Tune Up / When Lights Are Low”: after the drums came in, the uplifting momentum of the tune swept me away. The sequence, flawless, stayed on repeat for a very long time.

In a Silent Way (Columbia, 1969)

Later, I reached the electric phase. Like everyone else, I became fascinated by almost everything from Bitches Brew onwards, notably the albums On the Corner and Jack Johnson. But the one that impacted me the most was In a Silent Way. First of all, the stellar line-up: Wayne Shorter, John McLaughlin, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, Joe Zawinul, Dave Holland, Tony Williams. Everything sounded new and different. The overlapping keyboards, the drifting sounds. In its atmospheric character, I could feel the musicians searching. I could hear the exploration, the discovery, the musicians locking into a perfect groove on “It’s About That Time”. The trumpet, soaring above everything else, expansive and radiant. On first listen, Teo Macero’s cut-and-splice editing sounded somewhat strange, but the album quickly became an all-time favorite. Our connection to music passes through emotional territory, and these records belong to that landscape.

- Nuno Catarino

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You’re Under Arrest (Columbia, 1985)

At age 14 in 1970 Miles Davis entered my life with the magical Bitches Brew . At 15, my heroes – unlike my schoolmates, all rock fans – were Black : Ornette, Bird, Miles, and Jimi Hendrix, who for me belonged to jazz too. In1971, I attended the Milan jazz festival: Ornette, Gato Barbieri, and Miles with Jarrett on keyboards. In the autumn of 1973, I witnessed, at the Bologna jazz festival, one of the Miles’ visionary dark funk sets. Shortly thereafter, he retired. At the beginning of the eighties he was back. Just after his return, I attended a concert of his in Rome; I introduced and reviewed it enthusiastically in the extreme Left wing newspaper Lotta Continua (“ongoing struggle”). Indeed Miles’ resurrection felt like more than a musical event, and in 1985 he participated in the track “The Struggle Continues” on the anti-apartheid record Sun City… From 1984 onward, Miles started to tour Europe every summer, sometimes twice a year and turned out to be something of a “familiar” presence. I loved The Man with the Horn, We Want Miles, Star People, Decoy, but You’re Under Arrest was my album of choice, from the first seconds of the opening track, with the sublime, pressing rhythm of “One Phone Call/Street Scenes”, to the wonderful lyricism of “Human Nature”, “MD1/Something’s On Your Mind” and “Time After Time”. The album was released in 1985, the year I started to work as program chief editor of the independent/community station Radio Popolare: I chose “Human Nature” as the end theme song of a daily music program. During Miles’ last decade, his music was full of a life-affirming energy, with a magnificent vein of melancholy, and subtly hendrixian traits; he was not only superbly managing rhythms and colours, but deeply digging into the rhythm and the colour, the feeling of the times, exactly like Prince. His stage bands were ready to answer his impulses, giving endless new versions of the material. I saw him as the Duke Ellington of the 80s. Only Prince and Cecil Taylor were as exciting as Miles, and attending their concerts was as emotionally charged as attending those of Miles.

- Marcello Lorrai

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Nuno Catarino is editorial coordinator of jazz.pt since 2022. He contributes to the national newspaper Público, where he has written since 2007. He is the author, with Márcia Lessa, of the book Improvisando (2019).

Marcello Lorrai produces & presents the weekly radio program Jazz Anthology on Radio Popolare (Mondays at 11 pm); publishes festival reports and artists interviews in the daily newspaper Il Manifesto, and is an author of books such as Africana (reviewing modern music from the African continent, Casanova & Chianura Edizioni) and William Parker - Conversazioni Sul Jazz (Auditorium Edizioni). He also writes liner notes, notably for albums by the Italian Instabile Orchestra since 1995.

Miles Davis @ 100 - A Celebration Through Albums (4)

noreply@blogger.com (Stef Gijssels) — Thu, 28 May 2026 04:01:00 +0000

Day three of our celebration of Miles Davis at 100. See day one and two here.

By Stef Gijssels

The year 1970 marked an extraordinary turning point in Miles Davis’s career and artistic evolution. He transformed himself from a jazz musician into a figure with the presence — and attitude — of a rock star. His music became increasingly exploratory and electric: wah-wah trumpet effects, fractured and layered textures, electric piano, electric bass, and organ all became central to his sound. Equally important were the relentless rhythms, the unrestrained improvisations, and the trance-like length and density of the performances. It represented a complete break from conventional jazz harmony, moving instead toward something more primal, ritualistic, and less bound by eclectic convention. While many jazz purists rejected this new direction, rock audiences embraced it enthusiastically.

He performed with an exceptional list of musicians in this year, all of which individually became famous in their own right, and some of them created the most popular fusion bands of the seventies and eighties: the John McLaughlin's Mahavishnu Orchestra, Chick Corea's Return to Forever, and Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorter's Weather Report. Miles Davis opened the door to something else completely.

The Cellar Door Sessions 1970 (Columbia, 2005)

My preferred album by Miles Davis is without a doubt "Bitches Brew", followed by "In A Silent Way", discussed before. From the same period are a few other excellent albums, including this compilation released in 2005 only. It was recorded live over a few nights in December 1970 at The Cellar Door, a club in Washington DC. The six-CD box comprises six of the ten recorded tracks, some of which have already officially been released as part of "Live-Evil".

With its six hours of music, this album is guaranteed to give you an overdose of the Miles of that period: lengthy tracks, improvisations, brutal yet quality interplay, some moments of fun even. You get five different versions of "Directions" (also called "Call It Anything" on the triple vinyl of the Isle of Wight Rock Festival of 1970) and "What I Say" (on Live-Evil), four versions of "Honky Tonk", also called "Funky Tonk" on "Live-Evil", and two versions of "It's About That Time" (from "In A Silent Way"). Some parts of the improvisation and "Inamorata", were also used on "Live-Evil" and called "Inamorata and Narration by Conrad Roberts".

So much for the factoids, but it's about the music and that is absolutely stellar, as is the quality of the recording. Some call this "fusion" or "jazz rock" but those are truly deceptive classifications for this period in Davis's career. Yes, there is a strong and solid rhythm section, yet the themes and the improvisation are as open as jazz can be, with solid interplay for sure, but still far away from the soulless over-polished technical pyrotechnics of so much of fusion music. The pieces are long, and actually some performances move from one piece into the next without a break, it's a continuous never-ending party of great music, raw at times, offering the level of spontaneous creation that cannot happen without some raw or noisy overall sound. The fun part of the many versions is that it allows you to compare the freedom that the musicians have in their performances, and the difference in their collective rendition of the same music.

The band are Miles Davis on trumpet, Gary Bartz on saxes, Keith Jarrett on electric piano and organ, Michael Henderson on electric bass, Jack DeJohnette on drums, Airo Moreira on percussion (except disc one), and with John McLaughlin joining on guitar for disc 5 & 6 (recorded on December 19, 1970).

A stellar band at the height of its skills, and music that is relatively unique in its sound and quality. It's a lot to digest, a huge meal of exquisite ingredients.

A Tribute To Jack Johnson (Columbia, 1970)

This album was recorded right after "Bitches Brew", in April 1970, and was conceived as a soundtrack for a documentary by Bill Cayton about the heavyweight world champion boxer Jack Johnson.

It contains two lengthy pieces, performed by two different line-ups: Right Off" has Miles Davis on trumpet, Steve Grossman on saxophone, John McLaughlin on guitar, Herbie Hancock on organ, Michael Henderson on bass, and Billy Cobham on drums, and "Yesternow" has Miles Davis on trumpet, John McLaughlin and Sonny Sharock on guitar, Bennie Maupin on bass clarinet, Chick Corea on electric piano, Dave Holland on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums.

The two tracks are heavily post-produced, a kind of collage by producer Teo Macero, whose "cut and paste" approach of different jam sections and solos are brought to a new level. The collage is not always really audible although some radical rhythm changes in the pieces indicate some artificial interventions.

While waiting for Miles to arrive, McLaughlin starts the first track by a rock-ish guitar vamp, and is joined by Cobham and Henderson on bass and drums. Apparently Herbie Hancock happened to be around the studio that day, so he joined too. It was not yet meant to be recorded, yet it was. The trumpet just joins after a few minutes and the piece gets its full voice. As the Miles Davis website explains: "“Right Off” (the opposite of the catchphrase of the day, “right on”) travels a long path, including a moment (18:44) when McLaughlin repeatedly hammers a riff from Sly Stone’s “Sing A Simple Song”, and into a series of ringing power chords, a searing saxophone solo, and further guitar ribaldry. “Yesternow” (the very title balancing past and present) opens with a more spaced-out feel, includes a snippet of “Shhh/Peaceful” from In A Silent Way (Miles literally sampling himself!)"

Both tracks are excellent, post-produced, collaged or not. The music is hypnotic as is most of Davis's work of that period, yet it adds the specific political message of civil rights in the USA. Even if this theme is omnipresent in his work implicitly, here it becomes a real message. The album ends with the voice of Brock Peters, speaking on behalf of Jack Johnson in the documentary. “I’m Jack Johnson, heavyweight champion of the world! I’m black! They never let me forget it. I’m black all right. I’ll never let them forget it.”

Miles Davis writes in the liner notes: “Johnson portrayed Freedom… the more they hated him, the more money he made, the more women he got and the more wine he drank.”

Freedom is to be liberated from the shackles of preconceived notions, of conventions, of racist history.

This music is Freedom.

Live At Fillmore (Columbia, 1970)

Recorded live at the Filmore in June 1970, this album takes advantage of the success of "In A Silent Way" and "Bitches Brew". The show contains much of the material of both albums, again with a great band of Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett on electric keyboards, Steve Grossman on saxophones and flute, Dave Holland on bass, Jack DeJohnette on drums, Airto Moreira on percussion. The music is edited to allow for all major compositions to be represented on this double vinyl. Tracks move almost seamlessly into one another. At the same time, you never know about what was edited: "Miles was in the habit of kicking off tunes before the previous one had ended, overlapping in into another, making it difficult to pull out discreet performances", and even stronger, making the band follow suit instantly.

The sound quality is excellent, and fans of the electric Miles should definitely check it out.

Live-Evil (Columbia, 1971)

Recorded between February and December 1970, "Live-Evil" ends the phenomenal year of Miles psychedelic jazz style.

The entire cast of musicians is actually rarely a complete band, but an ensemble that changes on every track. Miles Davis on trumpet, Gary Bartz, Steve Grossman, Wayne Shorter on sax, John McLaughlin on electric guitar, Keith Jarrett on organ, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Joe Zawinul on electric piano, Michael Henderson, Dave Holland and Ron Carter on bass, Billy Cobham, Jack DeJohnette and Hermeto Pascoal on drums and vocals, Airto Moreira and Khalil Balakrishna on electric sitar.

The label describes the album appropriately: "it bulges at the seams in its effort to contain all Miles was up to the year before—the crazy diversity of experiences in 1970. (The sounds) ranged from rock-band abandon spilling off of small club stages, to ambient jams and mood pieces crafted in the recording studio. He was working a wider sonic mix than ever—wah-wah trumpet (within the album’s first minute!) and Indian sitar, electric guitar and electronic keyboards, whistling and vocalizing and shouts, spoken poetry and the “speaking” of the Brazilian cuíca all over. The music is a crazy psychedelic mix—not jazz or rock or funk. Not this or that. Willfully kaleidoscopic and boldly futuristic."

It is a strange album, with many different styles and unexpected twists and turns. It is not a "live" album as its title might suggest, but rather an collection of musical pieces of which some were recorded live. The core of the album is made of three very long tracks "What I Say" (phenomenal!), "Funky Tonk", and "Inamorata", tied together with shorter and more subdued interludes.

The album ends with a poem by Conrad Roberts

"Inamorato

Mission: music, masculinity
Master of the art: music
Who is this music that which description may never justify?
Can the ocean be described?
Fathomless music
Body of all that is
Live ever lastingly
Men, initiate
Inamorato, your music art tomorrow's unknown known life
I love tomorrow"

Miles Davis @ 100 - A Celebration Through Albums (3)

noreply@blogger.com (Stef Gijssels) — Thu, 28 May 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Stef Gijssels

I was too young in the sixties to witness their music firsthand, yet by the time I came of age in the seventies, Jimi Hendrix had become a kind of god to me — followed later by Miles Davis and then John Coltrane. What has always astonished me is how - within the same decade - each of these towering musical geniuses forged an entirely new sound and voice from within tradition itself: honouring it, absorbing it, yet ultimately pushing beyond its boundaries until they burst free from the constraints of form altogether. Out of that rupture, they created new musical languages — languages that continue to resonate deeply with so many people and that express emotions for which words could never truly exist.

Jimi Hendrix took the blues and then practised relentlessly on his guitar to expand its vocabulary, its power and its electrifying effects. This was the period of polished 2-minute pop songs, of refined vocals and backing vocals, of nicely fitting suits and the comfort of going to mom and dad in the evening. Hendrix tore it all down, yet built it up again, exposing humanity to a sonic avalanche never heard before (and rarely heard since): loud, brutal, technically brilliant, sensitive and deeply moving.

Miles Davis was a little older, yet came later to my musical horizon, and I was sold immediately. My first experience was with "In A Silent Way", and especially the title track with its steady rhythm, its hypnotic groove and its brilliant trumpet-playing is still engrained in my brain. A decade earlier, he had already changed the course history of jazz by "Kind of Blue", a milestone then, yet when listening to it now, you wonder what all the fuzz was about, but that's primarily because it influenced all jazz after its release, as if people wondered what was so new about Picasso, who might seem somewhat conventional from today's point of view. Then "Bitches Brew". This was it. The power, the drive, the relentless and uncompromising rhythm section, the stellar musicianship, and this "man with the horn", creating sounds also never heard before, with or without "wah wah". It defied any type of soloing heard before. It opened space, and showed that anything was possible, even chaos and noise, without restrictions with the exception of the piece's overall coherence.

John Coltrane - also born in 1926 - was the third luminary. Like Davis, and in collaboration with him, they released some of the more memorable albums of the fifties with the Miles Davis Quintet: "Cookin'", "Relaxin'", "Workin'", and "Steamin'" and with the sextet later the iconic"Kind of Blue". Then he single-handedly pulled jazz out of the smoky bar rooms of the entertainment industry and turned it into Art with a capital "A": "A Love Supreme" turned music upside down. It showed something grand, a level of spirituality and personal freedom of expression rarely heard in music before, yet still compelling and mysterious despite its novel approach. Even a simple tune such as "My Favorite Things" became a mesmerising listening experience when performed by Coltrane. With "Interstellar Space", his duo album with drummer Rashied Ali, he broke with all conventions, yet despite the negative comments from the jazz community, his technique and incredible inventiveness were beyond comparison.

Despite the profound differences in their music — free blues, jazz rock, and free jazz — all three men broke with convention and revealed new ways of expressing what it means to be human. They were open to new forms, they integrated sounds from other musical styles, they were endlessly creative. Despite the many opportunities for commercial success, they kept searching, stretching their performances to lengthy and grandiose improvisations, the kind of music that would never get any radio airplay, let alone be of interest to mainstream audiences. They each struggled with drugs and addiction, but I don’t believe that alone explains the parallels between them. Even if their music was not "political" in the real sense of the word, they represented the voice of African Americans and their fight for civil rights - check Davis' "Tribute To Jack Johnson" as an example - but their music went much deeper, it was (is) the voice of more authentic feelings of anger, sadness, agony, despair, hope and transcendence than the entertainment industry could ever offer. They share a devotion to technique, not as a goal but as a means to free sound from historical constraints, and to create something more expansive, monumental, authentic, existential, spiritual, and deeply human. They transformed music. They created great art. Each possessed a sound and a voice instantly recognisable from afar, unlike anything found in music today.

Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix planned to record together. They had been preparing this for a while, and both had a show at the Isle of Wight Festival in 1970 - and by the way, it's truly amazing that Davis was invited to play at a rock festival - yet a few weeks later Hendrix died unexpectedly.

Three exceptional musicians, three exceptional artists somehow met and did something similar profound for music at the same juncture in time and place. They combined creative discipline and control on the one hand, with ecstatic improvisation and raw expression on the other.