It's been a good year to be a collector of records that erudite English pianist Liam Noble happens to be on.
Firstly, there was the feelgood Freight Train. The main focus there was the vocals of Cathy Jordan.
Then there was Liam again with Paul Clarvis prominent and this time the deftly tonal bassist Jiří Slavik leading on Nostalgia doing 'It's a Long Way To Tipperary' that saw the pianist picking an unusual key and doing novel things with the melody.
And now the drummerless, bass-less live album Lucky Teeth. Less is more and this is the best of the three, warts and all. An alto saxophone-piano record, the reliably light under a bushel hiding septuagenarian Geoff Simkins down the years has been on records with mainstream guitarist Dave Cliff and the prodigiously imaginative pianist and composer Nikki Iles.
Simkins here reminds us of the rapport Liam had with the Under Milk Wood Scottish tenor saxophone totem Bobby Wellins. Have this for 'Warm Valley' alone, the Ellington classic from the 1940s covered in recent years by Kenny Barron and the Dave Holland Trio on Without Deception. Things go a bit awry tuning wise for Simkins in places on 'Save a Prayer' but matter it doesn't much.
Lovers of anything by Steve Swallow will contradict the adage that ''one swallow does not a summer make'' as La Roca Basra era 'Eiderdown' - that Swallow with John Scofield and Bill Stewart winningly disinterred three years ago on Swallow Tales - might just persuade you all satisfied that somehow you have discovered the sunlit uplands however ludicrous the thought. But it is a treatment by Liam and the Sim, quite a card of a player it turns out, that draws to mind what well known Wigan resident Wallace owner of talented beagle Gromit might have concluded about the arrangement ''As I say it's a bit dingy at present but it's surprising what a lick of paint'll do, isn't it?''
Liam Noble, Geoff Simkins, photos: press
Apply the smelling salts if you feel all weak at the thought of 'When You're Smiling' at the end. But Simkins here proves at his most Konitzian taking a while sans pianist to noodle voluminously and when the wretched old 1920s tune comes in Liam shadows him interestingly in both saunteringly serene and shaggily ragged fashion that is fun to listen to. A philosopher's stone of a listen with excellently authentic Vortex club sound captured when all the pieces of the puzzle seem to have slotted into place sheer alchemy is only ever a stone's throw away. SG
