After recording two great albums of dark, moody, clarinet-centric jazz — 2007’s Currents and 2011’s Post Scriptum — the Wolfert Brederode Quartet either called it quits or decided to take an extended vacation or did something because they haven’t made an album since. But fans of that foursome can rejoice, sort of, as a spiritual successor has emerged with Characters On A Wall (CD, LP, digital), the new album by atmospheric clarinetist Louis Sclavis and his similarly-configured quartet.
In 2014, the iconic jazz trio of pianist Keith Jarrett, double bassist Gary Peacock, and drummer Jack DeJohnette announced that their association was coming to an end nearly forty years after they first worked together on Peacock’s 1977 album Tales Of Another, and more than thirty years since their official debut as a threesome on 1983’s Standards, Vol. 1.
This was especially disheartening given that their last album, 2013’s Somewhere, was one of their finest collections in a career that spawned nearly two dozen great albums.
But it seems the mourning may have been a little premature, as the trio are back — virtually, that is — with a cool new live archival double album, After The Fall (CD, digital).
As someone who owns dozens of jazz albums, and has listened to hundreds more, I get especially excited when I hear someone doing something new with the form. It was that way when I heard the Jimmy Giuffre 3 get minimalist and moody on 1961, when I heard Anouar Brahem infuse jazz with Middle Eastern tones on his album Thimar, and now it’s happened again with Ida Lupino (CD, digital), the new album from pianist Giovanni Guida, trombonist Gianluca Petrella, clarinetist and bass clarinetist Louis Sclavis, and drummer Gerald Cleaver. And not just because my grandmother’s name was Ida.
There’s something to be said for truth in advertising. Take Atmospheres (CD, digital), the new double album from pianist Tigran Hamasyan, trumpeter Arve Henriksen, guitarist Eivind Aarset, and sampler Jan Bang. While that kind of configuration could’ve produced all kinds of noisy instrumentals, or even rock-infused jazz, this foursome have instead made a beautiful collection of jazzy, moody, and, yes, atmospheric tone poems.
Funko have announced that they will release a POP! of Lemmy from Motorhead later this month.
While it would’ve been easy for jazz pianist Glauco Venier to record an album of solo piano instrumentals, his new album Miniatures (CD, digital) instead has him pairing his piano with percussive metal instruments for a collection of moody instrumentals that, while not perfect, is still rather intriguing.
The convergence of jazz and rock is nothing new. Miles Davis explored it on such albums as 1970’s Bitches Brew and 1971’s A Tribute To Jack Johnson, while such disparate rock groups as The Rolling Stones, King Crimson, and Metallica have all cited jazz or specific jazz musicians as being an inspiration for what they do. Then there’s the Hedvig Mollestad Trio, a Norwegian threesome comprised of guitarist Hedvid Mollestad, bassist Ellen Brekken bass, and drummer Ivar Loe Bjørnstad whose music is equal parts hard rock and avant garde jazz, as evidenced by such albums as 2013’s All Of Them Witches, 2014 Enfant Terrible!, and their newest, Black Stabat Mater (CD, digital, vinyl). Though maybe it’s best if I let Mollestad explain it herself.
In jazz as in life, you’re sometimes only as good as the people you work with. John Coltrane, for instance, made some amazing music in his career, but did some of his best work with pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Jimmy Garrison, and drummer Elvin Jones, as best heard on such classic albums as Ballads, Crescent, Afro Blue Impressions, First Meditations, Sun Ship, and, of course, A Love Supreme.
Though it shares the same name, was recorded a few months later during the same concert series, and is a collection jazz that runs from the atmospheric to the noisy, the second Live At Okuden album (CD, digital) by jazz maestros Mat Walerian and Matthew Shipp — on which they’re joined, this time around, by Hamid Drake under the name Jungle — is anything but a rerun. Well, except in how good it is.