4 On Pierre Bensusan’s Alti-planos, his second album for Favored Nations, a label mostly known for its shameless electric guitar pyrotechnics, the French acoustic guitar hero offers a graceful unplugged alternative. Never mind that the set opens with the lovely lyrical piece “Sentimentales Pyromaniaques.” This time out Bensusan takes a different tack than on his 2001 CD, Intuite, a more purely solo acoustic venture. On “Sur un Fil” and “Sylva,” he dips into multitracking layers, with loops and percussive effects adding up to an atmospheric attitude. Elsewhere, he adds his warm, understated singing voice, as on “La Nuit des Meteores,” originally an instrumental from his 1987 CBS Masterworks debut, and on “Demain, des L’Aube,” set to a text from Victor Hugo. Singing and whistling perk up the medley called “Falafel a Montsegur.” Despite the occasional deviations from the standard man-and-his-acoustic-guitar format, it is his guitar work that most impresses. Although playing in the open DADGAD tuning, Bensusan pushes into more venturesome harmonic terrain than many open-tuning players. On his latest, Bensusan fulfills expectations, coaxing from his guitar a beautiful sound, full of rippling and ringing tones, while also flexing a higher degree of all-over musicality than many in the acoustic guitar universe. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17161 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

On Pierre Bensusan’s Alti-planos, his second album for Favored Nations, a label mostly known for its shameless electric guitar pyrotechnics, the French acoustic guitar hero offers a graceful unplugged alternative. Never mind that the set opens with the lovely lyrical piece “Sentimentales Pyromaniaques.” This time out Bensusan takes a different tack than on his 2001 CD, Intuite, a more purely solo acoustic venture. On “Sur un Fil” and “Sylva,” he dips into multitracking layers, with loops and percussive effects adding up to an atmospheric attitude. Elsewhere, he adds his warm, understated singing voice, as on “La Nuit des Meteores,” originally an instrumental from his 1987 CBS Masterworks debut, and on “Demain, des L’Aube,” set to a text from Victor Hugo. Singing and whistling perk up the medley called “Falafel a Montsegur.” Despite the occasional deviations from the standard man-and-his-acoustic-guitar format, it is his guitar work that most impresses. Although playing in the open DADGAD tuning, Bensusan pushes into more venturesome harmonic terrain than many open-tuning players. On his latest, Bensusan fulfills expectations, coaxing from his guitar a beautiful sound, full of rippling and ringing tones, while also flexing a higher degree of all-over musicality than many in the acoustic guitar universe.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 Offbeat yet organic glories shine through on the latest album from the Jazz Mandolin Project, The Deep Forbidden Lake, on which genre-flexible mandolinist Jamie Masefield is joined by Gil Goldstein on piano and accordion and Greg Cohen, working his grounding low-end magic. Between them, the unplugged trio produces a relaxed, rambling and easy-to-love set. The jazz aspect ranges from Django Reinhardt’s “Tears” to the laconic lyricism of Billy Strayhorn’s “My Little Brown Book” and Horace Silver’s “Peace.” From the pop-folk end of the spectrum, Masefield aims high on the aesthetic food chain, with two songs apiece from icons Neil Young (provider of the album’s title tune), Tom Waits and jazz-cover-song favorite Radiohead, whose “Everything in Its Right Place” and “I Will” are moody departures from the otherwise American song catalogue. Closing the album on an up note, replete with some quirky toy piano work from Goldstein, is Ornette Coleman’s “When Will the Blues Leave.” Here, Masefield goes furthest afield from mandolin norms. He takes his leave from blues and enters unknown harmonic regions, after which Goldstein and Cohen head deliciously left before the buoyant head returns. It’s a liberating moment. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 false 17162 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

Offbeat yet organic glories shine through on the latest album from the Jazz Mandolin Project, The Deep Forbidden Lake, on which genre-flexible mandolinist Jamie Masefield is joined by Gil Goldstein on piano and accordion and Greg Cohen, working his grounding low-end magic. Between them, the unplugged trio produces a relaxed, rambling and easy-to-love set. The jazz aspect ranges from Django Reinhardt’s “Tears” to the laconic lyricism of Billy Strayhorn’s “My Little Brown Book” and Horace Silver’s “Peace.” From the pop-folk end of the spectrum, Masefield aims high on the aesthetic food chain, with two songs apiece from icons Neil Young (provider of the album’s title tune), Tom Waits and jazz-cover-song favorite Radiohead, whose “Everything in Its Right Place” and “I Will” are moody departures from the otherwise American song catalogue. Closing the album on an up note, replete with some quirky toy piano work from Goldstein, is Ornette Coleman’s “When Will the Blues Leave.” Here, Masefield goes furthest afield from mandolin norms. He takes his leave from blues and enters unknown harmonic regions, after which Goldstein and Cohen head deliciously left before the buoyant head returns. It’s a liberating moment.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 In the notes for his fine album Touch the Spirit, guitarist Rob Levit credits a list of primary influences on his music, citing Tim Reynolds (guitarist with Dave Matthews as well as a unique solo artist and gifted player), Keith Jarrett and John McLaughlin (especially his classic early acoustic album My Goal’s Beyond) and Pat Metheny. Those artistic touchstones in mind, listening to Levit’s album has a kind of larger continuity, stretching beyond the typical range of the acoustic guitar scene. Over the course of 24 varied but somehow unified tracks, Levit shows the impressive scope of his musical voice, without merely trying to impress. The short, introspective piece “Radiance” is dedicated to Jarrett—whose delicate and experimental album Spirits is one of Levit’s favorites—but we also sense an inspirational link to My Goal’s Beyond in its searching chord progression and distilled emotional air. Elsewhere on the album’s eclectic landscape, he manages some virtuosic tap-and-hammer-on percussive work, spins out spidery electric solos and experiments with loopy layering and meditative pieces reminiscent of Steve Tibbetts. But enough of the comparison and influence game: What impresses most is the sense of a gifted musician at one with his instrument and speaking in multiple dialects. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17163 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

In the notes for his fine album Touch the Spirit, guitarist Rob Levit credits a list of primary influences on his music, citing Tim Reynolds (guitarist with Dave Matthews as well as a unique solo artist and gifted player), Keith Jarrett and John McLaughlin (especially his classic early acoustic album My Goal’s Beyond) and Pat Metheny. Those artistic touchstones in mind, listening to Levit’s album has a kind of larger continuity, stretching beyond the typical range of the acoustic guitar scene. Over the course of 24 varied but somehow unified tracks, Levit shows the impressive scope of his musical voice, without merely trying to impress. The short, introspective piece “Radiance” is dedicated to Jarrett—whose delicate and experimental album Spirits is one of Levit’s favorites—but we also sense an inspirational link to My Goal’s Beyond in its searching chord progression and distilled emotional air. Elsewhere on the album’s eclectic landscape, he manages some virtuosic tap-and-hammer-on percussive work, spins out spidery electric solos and experiments with loopy layering and meditative pieces reminiscent of Steve Tibbetts. But enough of the comparison and influence game: What impresses most is the sense of a gifted musician at one with his instrument and speaking in multiple dialects.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 Washington, D.C.-based guitarists Lawson Rollins and Dan Young lend a good hand—or four—to the sometimes vapid genre of nuevo flamenco. Mosaic finds them intertwining deftly, weaving their nylon-stringed in tautly harmonized lines over pleasant, rolling material based on a small sack of chords. The pair are abetted by the easy-does-it and willfully generic rhythm section work of percussionist Alfredo Mojica, electric bassist Leonardo Lucini and acoustic bassist Michael Bowie. No harm done here, but not much music made or surprises rendered, either—pretty much part for the course in the post-Ottmar Liebert trade. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17164 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

Washington, D.C.-based guitarists Lawson Rollins and Dan Young lend a good hand—or four—to the sometimes vapid genre of nuevo flamenco. Mosaic finds them intertwining deftly, weaving their nylon-stringed in tautly harmonized lines over pleasant, rolling material based on a small sack of chords. The pair are abetted by the easy-does-it and willfully generic rhythm section work of percussionist Alfredo Mojica, electric bassist Leonardo Lucini and acoustic bassist Michael Bowie. No harm done here, but not much music made or surprises rendered, either—pretty much part for the course in the post-Ottmar Liebert trade.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 On the fine Oregonian guitarist Jamie Stillway’s Mell of a Hess, the title’s word-playful linguistic deviation seems to reflect a larger musical identity. Mixing up genres without pretension, the nimble Stillway moves freely and with wit and creative restlessness, between the worlds of, say, Leo Kottke and Django Reinhardt, and connects with the brand of new folk-jazz hybrids like Tin Hat Trio and Jenny Scheinman’s projects. Stillway has a way with waltz-time and variations, from the pleasant harmonic wanderings of the opener, “Domisomido”—fortified by bassist Tim Renner, mandolinist David Tiller and violinist Enion Pelta—to the quirky bittersweetness of “Space Shuttle Channel.” Stillway and Pelta bouncily traipse over the slightly samba-flecked groove of the title track, and Stillway suggests echoes of Kottke in the evocatively titled “March of the Drunken Flies” and John Fahey on “The Little Beggar.” But she has her own ideas cooking and evolving over the course of a fine record, inviting curiosity about a promising musical future. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17165 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

On the fine Oregonian guitarist Jamie Stillway’s Mell of a Hess, the title’s word-playful linguistic deviation seems to reflect a larger musical identity. Mixing up genres without pretension, the nimble Stillway moves freely and with wit and creative restlessness, between the worlds of, say, Leo Kottke and Django Reinhardt, and connects with the brand of new folk-jazz hybrids like Tin Hat Trio and Jenny Scheinman’s projects. Stillway has a way with waltz-time and variations, from the pleasant harmonic wanderings of the opener, “Domisomido”—fortified by bassist Tim Renner, mandolinist David Tiller and violinist Enion Pelta—to the quirky bittersweetness of “Space Shuttle Channel.” Stillway and Pelta bouncily traipse over the slightly samba-flecked groove of the title track, and Stillway suggests echoes of Kottke in the evocatively titled “March of the Drunken Flies” and John Fahey on “The Little Beggar.” But she has her own ideas cooking and evolving over the course of a fine record, inviting curiosity about a promising musical future.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 Britain’s Martin Taylor holds a lofty spot in the ranks of international acoustic guitarists of note, bringing to his work clarity and technical finesse as well as a bright-minded stylistic range, connecting the dots between folk, pop and jazz. His musicianship is immediate and appealing. Where he fits in the category-hungry musical universe is another, fuzzier matter—and one not made any clearer by The Valley. It starts out in crisp, sonorous postfolk mode and takes several forks along the song path, including a stop at the Norah Jones hit, “Don’t Know Why.” Vocal cameos by noted operatic bass-baritone Bryn Terfel on “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “God Bless the Child” are too straight for comfort, a common problem when opera singers tackle pop fare—and especially given the relaxed accompaniment of Taylor’s guitar versus the standard piano backing. The late French pop singer Sacha Distel takes on “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” erring on the side of pop suavity rather than jazz swagger. On the other hand, Taylor brings a new and nimble solo jazz guitar approach to the standards “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” and “Have You Met Miss Jones?” He ends the set with a lovely African-flavored original, “Kwame,” with percolating muted strings mimicking an mbira or two. Do they really mean the best of Martin Taylor on this new compilation? Occasionally, the tracks here seem to represent the worst of the preternaturally talented guitarist. Of course, it depends on your perspective: for those of us with a low (to zero) tolerance for the antijazz vapidity of smooth jazz, too much of this music—at least on the first disc—is pure dreck. The bad stuff seems all the worse because Taylor is such a gifted player, but one who has apparently sometimes been lured to the dark side by the carrot of smooth dollars. All is not lost, but smooth-phobic listeners will need to judiciously program their CD players to edit out the musical Cheez Whiz. “Hymne a L’Amour” is a fetchingly fluid and gracefully melodic piece adorned with spare strings, and his solo pieces “True” and “Tennessee Waltz” are rife with musicality and delicately-wielded chops. Taylor and Yes-man Steve Howe have an overdub fest on the multiguitar “La Questa.” He also gets to sink sweetly and hotly into his role as a faux Django alongside his former employer Stephane Grapelli on “Undecided” and on a bossa-colored take on the immortal Reinhardt jewel “Nuages.” He even clenches a funky-modal stylistic fist on the tough, loveable “The Kraken.” Taylor is also a gifted artist in the rare art of solo jazz guitar, as heard on moving renditions of “I’m Old Fashioned,” “My Romance” and a wizardly “I Got Rhythm,” with a thumb that won’t quit or take simple roots-and-fifths for an answer. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17166 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

Britain’s Martin Taylor holds a lofty spot in the ranks of international acoustic guitarists of note, bringing to his work clarity and technical finesse as well as a bright-minded stylistic range, connecting the dots between folk, pop and jazz. His musicianship is immediate and appealing. Where he fits in the category-hungry musical universe is another, fuzzier matter—and one not made any clearer by The Valley. It starts out in crisp, sonorous postfolk mode and takes several forks along the song path, including a stop at the Norah Jones hit, “Don’t Know Why.” Vocal cameos by noted operatic bass-baritone Bryn Terfel on “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and “God Bless the Child” are too straight for comfort, a common problem when opera singers tackle pop fare—and especially given the relaxed accompaniment of Taylor’s guitar versus the standard piano backing. The late French pop singer Sacha Distel takes on “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” erring on the side of pop suavity rather than jazz swagger. On the other hand, Taylor brings a new and nimble solo jazz guitar approach to the standards “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” and “Have You Met Miss Jones?” He ends the set with a lovely African-flavored original, “Kwame,” with percolating muted strings mimicking an mbira or two. Do they really mean the best of Martin Taylor on this new compilation? Occasionally, the tracks here seem to represent the worst of the preternaturally talented guitarist. Of course, it depends on your perspective: for those of us with a low (to zero) tolerance for the antijazz...

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 From the first luminous minutes of Ralph Towner’s new solo guitar album, Time Line, it’s clear that we’re in good hands and on a musical journey that’s by turns pensive and wise, atmospheric and focused. Between the opening track, “The Pendant,” and an unusually introspective, Euro-flavored 12-string version of the Gershwin standard “My Man’s Gone Now,” veteran unplugged-guitar hero Towner shows he’s very much in creative and technical command. On this, his fourth solo project for ECM in 20 years, Towner covers a gamut of moods and colors, from the tart, post-Villa Lobos angularity of “The Hollows” to the bright-toned optimism of “If,” and the emotionally mercurial micro-suite “Five Glimpses”—the album’s centerpiece, despite its pocket-sized scale. Towner mostly sticks to classical nylon-string guitar here, though he dips into the ringing tones of his 12-string on “Freeze Frame.” Like few musicians alive, let alone guitarists, Towner manages to bridge the supposedly disparate worlds of jazz and classical music. Many of these pieces could be notated and seen as much-needed expansion of the solo classical guitar repertoire, except that most classical players aren’t gifted with the improvisational impulse also critical to his musical voice. That leaves Towner in a lofty but lonely place in the guitar pantheon. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17167 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

From the first luminous minutes of Ralph Towner’s new solo guitar album, Time Line, it’s clear that we’re in good hands and on a musical journey that’s by turns pensive and wise, atmospheric and focused. Between the opening track, “The Pendant,” and an unusually introspective, Euro-flavored 12-string version of the Gershwin standard “My Man’s Gone Now,” veteran unplugged-guitar hero Towner shows he’s very much in creative and technical command. On this, his fourth solo project for ECM in 20 years, Towner covers a gamut of moods and colors, from the tart, post-Villa Lobos angularity of “The Hollows” to the bright-toned optimism of “If,” and the emotionally mercurial micro-suite “Five Glimpses”—the album’s centerpiece, despite its pocket-sized scale. Towner mostly sticks to classical nylon-string guitar here, though he dips into the ringing tones of his 12-string on “Freeze Frame.” Like few musicians alive, let alone guitarists, Towner manages to bridge the supposedly disparate worlds of jazz and classical music. Many of these pieces could be notated and seen as much-needed expansion of the solo classical guitar repertoire, except that most classical players aren’t gifted with the improvisational impulse also critical to his musical voice. That leaves Towner in a lofty but lonely place in the guitar pantheon.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00

4 On Tone Poets, a follow-up to the earlier album Tone Poems, the concept is simple and deceptively pure-sounding. Acoustic Disc founder and mandolinist David Grisman brought in an array of fine pickers—a total of 42 guitarists and mandolinists—into a studio to record tracks on the same vintage instruments: a 1922 Gibson F-5 mandolin and a 1933 Martin OM-45 guitar. Naturally, the scent of purism starts to fade fairly quickly, as these players freely veer right and left from stylistic fidelity, and that attitude perfectly suits this label’s eclectic artistic mandate. Folk, bluegrass and country filter through the proceedings, in varying degrees and hybrids. Jazz, per se, is a strong component, as well, with Martin Taylor’s solo take on “I Thought About You,” and the Djangoesque workouts of Frank Vignola’s “Gypsy Playland” and John Jorgenson’s serpentine fretwork on “Improvisation No. 1.” Disc one features solo tracks, including guitar-fitted dobro virtuosos Jerry Douglas and Bob Brozman, while disc two brings players together in duets, including Sam Bush and Jack Lawrence on the loopy shuffle “Where You There,” young mandolin wizard Chris Thile joins Mike Marshall on “Waltz for the Underworld” and, to close, Grisman and old comrade Tony Rice on “Blues for Vassar,” a reflective tribute to the late fiddler king Vassar Clements. In all, these musicians—and in this case, the specific instruments—deserve the spotlight. true 34 2007-06-07T14:05:44-04:00 17168 104 200608 true 0 112 2006-07-01T00:00:00-04:00

On Tone Poets, a follow-up to the earlier album Tone Poems, the concept is simple and deceptively pure-sounding. Acoustic Disc founder and mandolinist David Grisman brought in an array of fine pickers—a total of 42 guitarists and mandolinists—into a studio to record tracks on the same vintage instruments: a 1922 Gibson F-5 mandolin and a 1933 Martin OM-45 guitar. Naturally, the scent of purism starts to fade fairly quickly, as these players freely veer right and left from stylistic fidelity, and that attitude perfectly suits this label’s eclectic artistic mandate. Folk, bluegrass and country filter through the proceedings, in varying degrees and hybrids. Jazz, per se, is a strong component, as well, with Martin Taylor’s solo take on “I Thought About You,” and the Djangoesque workouts of Frank Vignola’s “Gypsy Playland” and John Jorgenson’s serpentine fretwork on “Improvisation No. 1.” Disc one features solo tracks, including guitar-fitted dobro virtuosos Jerry Douglas and Bob Brozman, while disc two brings players together in duets, including Sam Bush and Jack Lawrence on the loopy shuffle “Where You There,” young mandolin wizard Chris Thile joins Mike Marshall on “Waltz for the Underworld” and, to close, Grisman and old comrade Tony Rice on “Blues for Vassar,” a reflective tribute to the late fiddler king Vassar Clements. In all, these musicians—and in this case, the specific instruments—deserve the spotlight.

2009-03-02T00:25:40-05:00