Showing posts with label Charlie Mariano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlie Mariano. Show all posts

Friday, 27 November 2020

Eberhard Weber Colours - Little Movements (1980)

Second album by Eberhard Weber's Colours collective - third if you count Yellow Fields, as a reissue box set did - and fast becoming my favourite Weber album, possibly overtaking even the more gentle, hushed Fluid Rustle.  After four minutes of atmospheric ambience, the opening Last Stage Of A Long Journey develops into a gorgeous, sedate feature for Rainer Brüninghaus' piano and Charlie Mariano's flute (then Garbarek-like sax).  The twelve-minute Bali also starts with a gentle, wispy drone, before bursting into life with Brüninghaus' repetitive piano figures, and developing in multiple sections.  You can tell it's a Brüninghaus composition; he's well on the way to his own masterpiece Freigeweht with material like this. 

Some more cyclical piano arpeggios introduce A Dark Spell, which develops into a great feature for Mariano to soar freely, especially in the uptempo end section.  The title track starts with an odd clash of sounds in the accordion-like synth and clatter of percussion, held together by Brüninghaus' piano as John Marshall continues to roll around the kit before it all settles into another gorgeous track.  Then 'No Trees?' He Said is a joyous, upbeat closer.  This whole album is a pure delight from start to finish.

pw: sgtg

Eberhard Weber at SGTG:
Yellow Fields (link also includes Jan Garbarek's Paths, Prints feat. Weber) 
Pat Metheny's Watercolors

Wednesday, 18 November 2020

Eberhard Weber Colours - Silent Feet (1978)

Eberhard Weber's Yellow Fields band (minus Jon Christensen, who presumably had a hundred other ECM sessions to attend) coalesced into Colours in the late 70s.  They produced two albums under this moniker, of which Silent Feet was the first (the other's coming up next week).  John Marshall was now on the drum stool, laying down a neat mid-tempo shuffle for Weber, Charlie Mariano and Rainer Brüninghaus to move around in on the great 18-minute opener, Seriously Deep.  Mariano's solos are a particular standout on this memorable epic of jazz-prog.

The two remaining tracks are 12 minutes apiece, with the title track starting out as a meditative feature for Weber and Brüninghaus, before Marshall kicks it into gear for the album's most joyously upbeat stretch.  Eyes That Can See In The Dark then establishes a suitably nocturnal atmosphere, with subtle percussion and Mariano's wood flute.  After a few minutes of this static ambience, Marshall and Brüninghaus take it into the home stretch, including a gorgeous piano spotlight for the latter and more of Mariano stretching out.  The legendary bassist-composer of course provides the supple joints for the whole body of Colours to move as one.

"...and to the cat he has given silent feet and eyes that can see in the dark"
- Richard Adams, Watership Down, Chapter 6: The Story of the Blessing of El-ahrairah
pw: sgtg
 
Eberhard Weber at SGTG:
Yellow Fields (link also includes Jan Garbarek's Paths, Prints feat. Weber)
Pat Metheny's Watercolors

Friday, 28 February 2020

Eberhard Weber - Yellow Fields (1976)

R.I.P. Jon Christensen, 20 March 1943 - 18 Feb 2020

Another sad farewell to an ECM jazz legend - Jon Christensen has died at the age of 76, after playing on hundreds of sessions for artists including Keith Jarrett, Jan Garbarek, Eberhard Weber, Ralph Towner, Terje Rypdal... the list goes on and on.  Here's a couple of albums in tribute, and a list of previous posts that featured Jon.

Christensen's tight, steady drumming was an important feature of Eberhard Weber's second album as band leader.  The September 1975 session that produced Yellow Fields also featured Rainer Bruninghaus on keyboards and Charlie Mariano on reeds, and saw Weber's music simplify a little from the almost progressive rock-like structures of his debut album.  What emerged was a smooth but propulsive jazz fusion with great expressive leads from Mariano, some timelessly cool grooves on the keys from Bruninghaus, and rock solid backing from Weber and Christensen.

link
pw: sgtg

Jan Garbarek - Paths, Prints (1982)
Jon Christensen had played with Jan Garbarek since the late 60s, and would continue working with him through the 90s.  He provided the perfect base for this keyboardless December 1981 date, again pairing up with Weber's instantly recognisable bass tone as Garbarek and Bill Frisell dripped across the sonic picture like rain on glass.  I tend to tread carefully into 80s Garbarek and beyond, but this album has aged well and is very much a piece with the classic ECM aesthetic.  Kite Dance and the closer Still are particularly lovely.

link
pw: sgtg

Previously posted at SGTG featuring Jon Christensen:
Afric Pepperbird (Garbarek/Rypdal/Andersen/Christensen)
Popofoni (Garbarek/Rypdal/Stenson/Andersen/Christensen etc)
Waves (Rypdal/Mikkelborg/Hovensjø/Christensen)
Solstice: Sound And Shadows (Towner/Garbarek/Weber/Christensen)
Bluish (Stańko/Andersen/Christensen)
The Sea (Bjørnstad/Rypdal/Darling/Christensen)

Friday, 16 March 2018

Charles Mingus - The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady (1963)

Simply Mingus the composer and arranger at his absolute pinnacle.  Maybe some aficionados of Let My Children Hear Music, or even Ah Um, would disagree?  For me though, even those don't come close to the perfection of writing, arranging, great grooves and deeply felt soul of this January 1963 recording.  With possibly the first use of overdubs on a jazz record too (anyone know any different?), The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady hit a new level of sonic sophistication that still leaps out of the speakers/headphones today.

Each track title is basically a dance notation, as this album was written as a ballet of sorts, if never performed as such - Solo Dancer, Duet Solo Dancers, Group Dancers etc - and the lengthy subtitles are where the clues are to Mingus' intentions lay for what he was expressing in the music.  So the album opens with, to give it its full title, Track A - Solo Dancer: Stop! Look ! And Listen, Sinner Jim Whitey! (or is it Whitney? spellings vary across different pressings).  In this track, as Mingus' psychotherapist Dr Edmund Pollock (yup, he was asked to review the music) notes in the liner, Charlie Mariano's alto sax solo acts as "a voice calling to others and saying "I am alone, please, please join me!" as the orchestral themes swirl around it.

There's a lot going on here, then, but this album shouldn't necessarily be regarded as 'difficult Mingus' - it's really not.  There's achingly gorgeous melody and harmony everywhere, repeated themes, and great grooves.  Only the side-long track that contains parts D through F takes a few goes to properly navigate, but it's a stunning achievement in orchestral jazz that's hugely satisfying once you get used to it.  Little interludes are provided for things like Mingus' piano, and Jay Berliner (who I only knew from Astral Weeks before I heard this album) playing bits of Spanish guitar, to evoke "the period of the Spanish Inquisition, and El Greco's mood of oppressive poverty and death".  Yes, there's weighty themes here, much of it Mingus' reflection of the Black American experience, but there's much joy too.  To finish, and to sum up the album really, here's the full title of the final section: Of Love, Pain, and Promised Revolt, Then Farewell, My Beloved, 'Til It's Freedom Day.

link