Dave Holland trio, Ronnie Scott’s

2016 review. Fifty years since first playing Ronnie Scott’s and on this occasion playing two houses to different audiences on a very busy night on Frith Street, a lot of people understandably cramming in to hear one of the greatest jazz bassists on …

Published: 10 Nov 2019. Updated: 3 years.

2016 review. Fifty years since first playing Ronnie Scott’s and on this occasion playing two houses to different audiences on a very busy night on Frith Street, a lot of people understandably cramming in to hear one of the greatest jazz bassists on the planet, this is a new trio, well kind of, as Holland and guitar star Kevin Eubanks at its core go back to the late-1980s and most recently Prism.

The new element is their pairing with Monty Alexander drummer Obed Calvaire, bearded and heavily perspiring in a short-sleeve T shirt as the set progressed, big on groove big on subtlety, fingertip-precise, spurring the other two on as they all burst into a huge splash of colour and life at a climactic point two thirds of the way through the performance.

The set – none of the tunes were announced, the soundman when asked later said they probably don’t even have a set list – began so softly like footsteps in the dark it was impossible not to think of In a Silent Way, a classic album that like Bitches Brew Holland appeared on in Miles Davis’ band.

Time after time the Wolverhampton man who has lived in America for many years and who turns 70 later this year, set up massive riffs in organic steps the ostinato sometimes doubled by Eubanks who lovingly washed a pedal-poised veneer of bluesy silk over all the raw materials, the nails of his fingers buffed and shining as his semi hollow body guitar sang out long and aching into the night.

Holland earlier had talked about his love of Bartók and mentioned the encouragement that John Surman had given to him starting out as a young musician wanting to play jazz, a music that his music college (Guildhall) didn’t allow at the time. The set was full of absorbing numbers each defined by jam-fired groove, a lateral approach that allowed for movement, progression in an ideas sense and a bluesy fervour to take hold, Eubanks moving into John McLaughlin territory a little as the momentum shifted towards 1970s jazz-rock. The flow was a joy.

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Joe Lovano, Marilyn Crispell, Carmen Castaldi, Trio Tapestry, ECM

IT IS hard to know where to begin with Trio Tapestry. Somehow, listening, you feel that you have stepped into the wrong room. It could even be a Charles Lloyd record. A long way from a hard bop blowing session, which is what you might expect with …

Published: 9 Nov 2019. Updated: 4 years.

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IT IS hard to know where to begin with Trio Tapestry. Somehow, listening, you feel that you have stepped into the wrong room. It could even be a Charles Lloyd record. A long way from a hard bop blowing session, which is what you might expect with Joe Lovano, this is open, thoughtful and challenging music delivered in an unfamiliar language although its building blocks are deep down always there in terms of tone, blues connotation and means of expression.

‘Seeds of Change’, which in sequence is the second of the 11, is very beautiful with a real feeling of aching intimacy and rapport, and you might swear it hints at the melody of ‘Equinox’ before veering into a free floating bluesy reverie, an emergent Marilyn Crispell in serene contemplation. As the tonality waveringly oblique adds mystery and a sense of occasion, a weightlessness wraps the atmosphere in ribbons of space. Percussionist Carmen Castaldi sweeps forth in the latter part emerging as a glinting observational presence amid the steely fragility of the momentous mood.

Recorded last year at a studio in New York the overall approach strips sound back to poetic forms and if you think of albums as novels, short stories or poems this is definitely a poem.

There is nothing trite here and yet no overdone pomposity either. On ‘Razzle Dazzle’ instead of a show stopping anthem you get an ominous piano solo from Crispell who plays impeccably throughout, Lovano accompanying her mournfully as if this is a lament. ‘Sparkle Lights’ taken at a lento tempo also has that mood of requiem and the interplay between sax and piano is very respectful. In the end you consider that eternal rivalry of time and silence.

Lovano mostly refrains from showing us the powerful side of his playing although the ‘Piano / Drum Episode’ midway through has a weight to it that contrasts heavily with what has gone before or after when his tender side is more explored. His experiments with gongs on one track are frankly less engaging, however.

A very atypical Joe Lovano record all considered, not always overly stocked with great moments to be fair and a little lacking in killer material, but there is plenty here to enjoy and Lovano is to be applauded for his adventurous spirit and the seriousness of his spiritual questing. SG