A gorgeous, spacey (the number of jazz albums with more of a sense of 'space' than this one must be vanishingly small) masterwork from the multi-talented Leo Smith, in the years just before he adopted the name 'Wadada'. This was Smith's first album for ECM, and a well-deserved addition to their 'Touchstones' gallery last year; he'd return to the label sporadically after Divine Love, most recently just a couple of years ago.
Sense of space, then... take the opening title track, for example. For nearly 22 minutes, it drifts in long, languid sighs and calls from Smith and from Dwight Andrews on alto flute. No drummer keeping time, just sporadic little clatters of percussion, occasional vibes/marimba from Bobby Naughton. Moments of nothing but pure reverberating silence. This is free jazz retreating from the coalface of everyone blowing at once to find zen sanctuary.
Kenny Wheeler and Lester Bowie join Smith for a three-way trumpet conversation on the shortest track Tastalun. Even at its most full-blown, the same ambient calm prevails, like watching the vapour trails of three different aeroplanes occasionally cross over each other. To close, Charlie Haden provides a more grounded setting for Smith, Andrews and Naughton to move around in on the 15-minute Spirituals: The Language Of Love. There's still nothing that could be called a beat for the musicians to groove to, but Haden and Naughton do provide a bit more sense of forward motion as the track progresses. One of the most beautifully unique albums in the ECM catalogue.
link
pw: sgtg
