4 Significant as it is that the Manhattan Transfer has been around for 40 years, it is far more remarkable that those four decades have been marked by near-continuous artistic expansion and advancement. The Four Freshmen and the Hi-Los can statistically claim greater longevity, but the Manhattan Transfer must rightfully be credited as the most enduringly creative vocal group in jazz history. The key distinction, and the principal reason for the group’s sustainability, is that the Transfer has not simply built upon the foundation laid by the Freshmen and the Hi-Los. The Transfer has also drawn from all adjacent wells, cleverly appropriating everything from big-band swing and the bop-centric brilliance of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross to East Coast doo-wop and the West Coast intricacy of the Mel-Tones. Over the course of 23 albums (24 if you count the 1969 one-off Jukin’), bass Tim Hauser, alto Janis Siegel, tenor Alan Paul and soprano Cheryl Bentyne (who replaced Laurel Massé in 1976) have taken continuous detours, rarely making a wrong turn. Along the way, they’ve delivered more than their share of masterpieces, including the bold, vibrant <I>Pastiche</I> (with Massé) and the zoot-sharp <I>Swing</I>. But none, save the landmark Hendricks tribute Vocalese, can match the ingeniousness of <I>The Chick Corea Songbook</I>. In the liner notes, Siegel rightly describes it as a “magical and transformational odyssey.” It is less an album than a series of soul-stirring journeys, unfailingly respectful to their source while sagely retooled to take wing in fresh directions. Songbook opens and closes with a new Corea composition (featuring Corea himself on synthesizer), “Free Samba,” a transcontinental, perhaps even trans-planetary, exercise in soaring liberty that cleverly hints at the varied adventures it brackets. There is the innocent passage from birth to infancy shaped by Siegel and Bentyne around “Children’s Song 1,” arranged by Fred Hersch, whose gently tinkling keystrokes lead all four voices on a playful calliope ride. There is the dazzlingly cacophonous circus train, steered by Paul, which winds through “Pixiland Rag.” There is the spicy paella of Siegel’s “The Story of Anna & Armando” (based on “Armando’s Rhumba”) conveyed on waves of brass as it probes the deep passion of Corea’s parents. Hauser teams with lyricist Van Dyke Parks (the notorious, widely misunderstood eccentric who toiled with Brian Wilson on the ill-fated Smile) for the antithetical gems “One Step Closer” and “Another Roadside Attraction.” The first, based on “The One Step,” is a softly swinging world tour that ultimately crosses the Rubicon in pursuit of pure, lasting love; the other is a hypnotic, chant-fueled inner voyage built upon “Space Circus” to create an otherworldly carnival. Though Corea fans will recognize Neville Potter’s lyrics for “500 Miles High” and “Times Lie,” they’ll also surely appreciate the free-floating expansiveness of Michele Weir’s arrangement of the former (gorgeously accented by guest percussionist Alex Acuña) and the multilayered, Hersch-arranged joyousness of the unfettered latter. Familiarity reaches maximum comfort and inspiration on what languidly unfurls as a majestic meander through Corea and Al Jarreau’s “Spain,” propelled by fogged reveries of desire and punctuated by the suggestion of staccato heels on hardwood. Hauser and Paul have both commented that this project has been on the group’s backburner since the 1970s. Would a younger, less seasoned Manhattan Transfer have handled such material with the same care, precision and imagination? Not likely. It has required the interceding decades for the foursome to reach the necessary level of assured, relaxed maturation. In other words, to paraphrase Gloria Steinem, this is what 40 sounds like. true 204 2009-11-04T22:26:15-05:00 false 25275 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Significant as it is that the Manhattan Transfer has been around for 40 years, it is far more remarkable that those four decades have been marked by near-continuous artistic expansion and advancement. The Four Freshmen and the Hi-Los can statistically claim greater longevity, but the Manhattan Transfer must rightfully be credited as the most enduringly creative vocal group in jazz history. The key distinction, and the principal reason for the group’s sustainability, is that the Transfer has not simply built upon the foundation laid by the Freshmen and the Hi-Los. The Transfer has also drawn from all adjacent wells, cleverly appropriating everything from big-band swing and the bop-centric brilliance of Lambert, Hendricks & Ross to East Coast doo-wop and the West Coast intricacy of the Mel-Tones. Over the course of 23 albums (24 if you count the 1969 one-off Jukin’), bass Tim Hauser, alto Janis Siegel, tenor Alan Paul and soprano Cheryl Bentyne (who replaced Laurel Massé in 1976) have taken continuous detours, rarely making a wrong turn. Along the way, they’ve delivered more than their share of masterpieces, including the bold, vibrant Pastiche (with Massé) and the zoot-sharp Swing . But none, save the landmark Hendricks tribute Vocalese, can match the ingeniousness of The Chick Corea Songbook . In the liner notes, Siegel rightly describes it as a “magical and transformational odyssey.” It is less an album than a series of soul-stirring journeys, unfailingly respectful to their source while sagely retooled to take wing in fresh directions. Songbook opens and closes with a new Corea...

2009-11-07T11:01:00-05:00

4 Guitarist Johnny Smith always had a soft spot for the Rodgers & Hart show tune “Wait Till You See Her.” Smith enjoyed playing it in a solo setting, fancifully arranged with raked arpeggios, a moving bassline and a dramatic shift in tempo. Listening to the title track on John Abercrombie’s new CD, it’s clear he’s a sucker for the melody too, though his quartet’s interpretation is lean and low-key, as soulful as it is insinuating. Then again, that’s a not a bad description of the entire session, save for violinist Mark Feldman’s rhapsodic arcs and the sometimes kinetic interplay generated by Abercrombie, Feldman, bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Joey Baron. Apart from the Rodgers & Hart theme, all the tunes were composed by Abercrombie and are distinguished by his expert touch, from the languid, minor-key blues “Sad Song,” deftly accented by Baron’s fluttering brushes, to the album’s richly textured and aptly titled coda, “Chic of Araby.” If Feldman is responsible for occasionally making the ensemble sound larger than it is—his double stops briefly suggest the presence of reeds or an accordion—he’s also once again cast as Abercrombie’s worthy foil, especially on the counter-riffing “Line-Up,” a reminder that you don’t need to chop away at extended chords to create some funk motion. In the end, while the eight performances gathered here provide plenty of room for soloing, nothing holds more rewards for the listener than the fully integrated (and exquisitely Baron-shaded) ensemble work true 110 2009-11-04T22:28:24-05:00 false 25276 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Guitarist Johnny Smith always had a soft spot for the Rodgers & Hart show tune “Wait Till You See Her.” Smith enjoyed playing it in a solo setting, fancifully arranged with raked arpeggios, a moving bassline and a dramatic shift in tempo. Listening to the title track on John Abercrombie’s new CD, it’s clear he’s a sucker for the melody too, though his quartet’s interpretation is lean and low-key, as soulful as it is insinuating. Then again, that’s a not a bad description of the entire session, save for violinist Mark Feldman’s rhapsodic arcs and the sometimes kinetic interplay generated by Abercrombie, Feldman, bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Joey Baron. Apart from the Rodgers & Hart theme, all the tunes were composed by Abercrombie and are distinguished by his expert touch, from the languid, minor-key blues “Sad Song,” deftly accented by Baron’s fluttering brushes, to the album’s richly textured and aptly titled coda, “Chic of Araby.” If Feldman is responsible for occasionally making the ensemble sound larger than it is—his double stops briefly suggest the presence of reeds or an accordion—he’s also once again cast as Abercrombie’s worthy foil, especially on the counter-riffing “Line-Up,” a reminder that you don’t need to chop away at extended chords to create some funk motion. In the end, while the eight performances gathered here provide plenty of room for soloing, nothing holds more rewards for the listener than the fully integrated (and exquisitely Baron-shaded) ensemble work

2009-11-07T20:51:51-05:00

4 Last we heard from Harry Connick Jr., he was firing on all cylinders with the simultaneous release of <I>Oh My Nola</I> and <I>Chanson du Vieux Carré</I>, his twin-engine, high-octane homage to his hurricane-ravaged hometown. So it’s initially disconcerting to hear him take such a dramatic U-turn, downshifting to easy-glide for 14 covers that run a smooth gamut from Rodgers & Hammerstein to Bacharach & David. Connick’s widely stated intent was to indeed change gears and craft an album that focused on vocals. Much has been made of his unprecedented willingness to cede a degree of artistic control by collaborating with seasoned gold miner Clive Davis. Yes, Davis’ fingerprints are clearly evident, notably on the pop orientation of the playlist and the shifting of the needle away from jazz and toward easy listening. But Connick maintained controlling interest, writing all of the arrangements and orchestrations, overruling Davis’ objection of certain tunes (notably “Some Enchanted Evening,” easily the album’s best track) and encouraging longtime pals and frequent collaborators Wynton and Branford Marsalis to add guest solos on three tracks. Connick opens with “All the Way” and closes with “Mona Lisa,” songs that rank among the most beloved and familiar of the Frank Sinatra and Nat Cole canons. They are fitting bookends, since <I>Your Songs</I> is, stylistically and atmospherically, reminiscent of the now-classic albums that defined the Sinatra and Cole sounds throughout the late ’50s and early ’60s. It may not be what Connick’s hardcore jazz fans expect—or want. Nor, as he has firmly averred, is it a groove he intends to get stuck in. But it is an astute adaptation of a durable blueprint, constructed by a musical architect who has never settled for cookie-cutter replication, and likely never will. true 204 2009-11-04T22:31:55-05:00 false 25277 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Last we heard from Harry Connick Jr., he was firing on all cylinders with the simultaneous release of Oh My Nola and Chanson du Vieux Carré , his twin-engine, high-octane homage to his hurricane-ravaged hometown. So it’s initially disconcerting to hear him take such a dramatic U-turn, downshifting to easy-glide for 14 covers that run a smooth gamut from Rodgers & Hammerstein to Bacharach & David. Connick’s widely stated intent was to indeed change gears and craft an album that focused on vocals. Much has been made of his unprecedented willingness to cede a degree of artistic control by collaborating with seasoned gold miner Clive Davis. Yes, Davis’ fingerprints are clearly evident, notably on the pop orientation of the playlist and the shifting of the needle away from jazz and toward easy listening. But Connick maintained controlling interest, writing all of the arrangements and orchestrations, overruling Davis’ objection of certain tunes (notably “Some Enchanted Evening,” easily the album’s best track) and encouraging longtime pals and frequent collaborators Wynton and Branford Marsalis to add guest solos on three tracks. Connick opens with “All the Way” and closes with “Mona Lisa,” songs that rank among the most beloved and familiar of the Frank Sinatra and Nat Cole canons. They are fitting bookends, since Your Songs is, stylistically and atmospherically, reminiscent of the now-classic albums that defined the Sinatra and Cole sounds throughout the late ’50s and early ’60s. It may not be what Connick’s hardcore jazz fans expect—or want. Nor, as he has firmly averred, is it a...

2009-11-06T12:13:43-05:00

4 <I>Songs From the Heart</I> is, in a word, astonishing. It finds Ramsey Lewis, after 50 years playing R&B- and pop-laced jazz piano, reinventing himself as a composer—hence the subtitle, Ramsey Plays Ramsey. The trio disc (Larry Gray, bass; Leon Joyce, drums) contains 12 straightahead tunes of extraordinary delicacy, lyricism and finesse, all sounding thoroughly fresh. Gospel and classical have always been Lewis favorites, particularly the former, but classical takes the wheel here. That’s only natural, since two-thirds of Songs was originally commissioned for the Joffrey Ballet. Nonetheless, the Satie-like quiet of “Clouds in Reverie” and “Watercolors” is surprising, as is the formal precision of “To Know Her Is to Love Her” and the achingly lovely “Conversation.” He even nods to John Lewis, the great classical-to-jazz bridge-builder, in his bluesy but crisp attack on the romantic “The Glow of Her Charm.” Gospel still makes its presence known via “The Way She Smiles,” a happy stomp. Lewis does bring in something from his pop immersion: instantly memorable tunes. The funky “The Spark” sinks in so immediately it seems you’ve known it for years; ditto the lithe bossa-nova “Rendezvous.” Gray and Joyce have no small part in the catchiness; the bassist offers excellent arco work on “To Know Her Is to Love Her” and an irresistible double-stop line on “Exhilaration,” while Joyce simmers with gregarious fills on “The Way She Smiles” and rock-ish backbeats throughout. <I>Songs From the Heart</I> is likely to rise on first listen to the top of the year’s best-of lists—and stay there. true 10607 2009-11-04T22:34:28-05:00 false 25278 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

A late-blooming composer releases a collection of astounding originals

2009-11-15T14:17:38-05:00

4 Michael Brecker was such a powerful and masterful tenor saxophonist that one does not think of him as a composer. However, with the release of <I>The Comet’s Tail</I>, a set of eight Brecker compositions, one can make the case that he was almost as innovative in his writing as in his playing. The project had its genesis while Brecker was still alive. Chuck Owen, the professor of jazz studies at the University of South Florida and the artistic director of the USF Center for Jazz Composition, teamed up with Dave Stamps, the managing director of the center. They organized the International Jazz Arranging Competition in Honor of Michael Brecker in 2006. Fred Stride won the contest with his complex and colorful arrangement of “Peep.” Other arrangements were commissioned from Vince Mendoza and Gil Goldstein to augment charts written by Stamps and Owen. A series of concerts and recordings were planned and, while Brecker’s death in Jan. 2007 changed the initial mood of exhilaration, the music went on. Chuck Owen’s Jazz Surge, a 17-piece ensemble that has appeared on his previous CDs, forms the core of the musicians heard on <II>The Comet’s Tail</I>. Such guest soloists as trumpeter Randy Brecker, guitarist Mike Stern, Dave Liebman on tenor and soprano, tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano, vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, violinist Rob Thomas and drummers Danny Gottlieb and Adam Nussbaum make strong statements (Gottlieb is a regular member of the orchestra) and there are also passionate solos from tenor saxophonist Jack Wilkins, guitarist LaRue Nickelson, pianist Per Danielsson and trombonist Tom Brantley. While the individual solos are quite impressive, it is the ensemble playing and spirit of the full band that really stand out. The riotous and joyous “Itsbynne Reel” is one of many highlights. Needless to say, Michael Brecker would have loved this CD. true 330 2009-11-04T22:37:57-05:00 false 25279 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Michael Brecker was such a powerful and masterful tenor saxophonist that one does not think of him as a composer. However, with the release of The Comet’s Tail , a set of eight Brecker compositions, one can make the case that he was almost as innovative in his writing as in his playing. The project had its genesis while Brecker was still alive. Chuck Owen, the professor of jazz studies at the University of South Florida and the artistic director of the USF Center for Jazz Composition, teamed up with Dave Stamps, the managing director of the center. They organized the International Jazz Arranging Competition in Honor of Michael Brecker in 2006. Fred Stride won the contest with his complex and colorful arrangement of “Peep.” Other arrangements were commissioned from Vince Mendoza and Gil Goldstein to augment charts written by Stamps and Owen. A series of concerts and recordings were planned and, while Brecker’s death in Jan. 2007 changed the initial mood of exhilaration, the music went on. Chuck Owen’s Jazz Surge, a 17-piece ensemble that has appeared on his previous CDs, forms the core of the musicians heard on The Comet’s Tail . Such guest soloists as trumpeter Randy Brecker, guitarist Mike Stern, Dave Liebman on tenor and soprano, tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano, vibraphonist Mike Mainieri, violinist Rob Thomas and drummers Danny Gottlieb and Adam Nussbaum make strong statements (Gottlieb is a regular member of the orchestra) and there are also passionate solos from tenor saxophonist Jack Wilkins, guitarist LaRue Nickelson, pianist Per Danielsson and...

2009-11-07T20:46:59-05:00

4 Who said three’s the charm? There’s a lot to be said for those moments when the John Patitucci Trio isn’t acting alone on <I>Remembrance</I>, an intimate studio session that primarily finds the veteran bassist-composer-bandleader collaborating with reedman Joe Lovano and drummer Brian Blade. Take “Scenes From an Opera,” for example. It’s a performance that wouldn’t be nearly as evocative or soulful without the inspired input of cellist Sachi Patitucci, the bassist’s wife. Or “Meditations,” one of four arrangements on <I>Remembrance</I> deftly accented by percussionist Rogerio Boccato. Then, too, there’s the album’s title track to consider, a solo homage to the late Michael Brecker that makes haunting use of Patitucci’s six-string electric bass and six-string electric piccolo bass. Of course, that’s not to say that the teaming of Patitucci, Lovano and Blades doesn’t deliver on its promise. Remembrance may be dedicated to, as Patitucci puts it in his liner notes, “fellow musicians who have inspired us that have recently and not so recently departed this world,” but it’s scarcely a solemn affair. The trio performances capitalize on the ensemble’s great chemistry, each in a different light, starting with the rhythmically and harmonically skewed “Monk/Trane”; the insinuating stroll “Sonny Side,” a splendid showcase for Lovano’s robust and restless tenor; and “Blues for Freddie,” a jaunty postbop salute composed, like all the tunes here, by Patitucci. When it comes to regional flavoring, though, nothing proves tastier than the Boccato-augmented quartet performance of “Messaien’s Gumbo.” true 110 2009-11-04T22:40:53-05:00 false 25280 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Who said three’s the charm? There’s a lot to be said for those moments when the John Patitucci Trio isn’t acting alone on Remembrance , an intimate studio session that primarily finds the veteran bassist-composer-bandleader collaborating with reedman Joe Lovano and drummer Brian Blade. Take “Scenes From an Opera,” for example. It’s a performance that wouldn’t be nearly as evocative or soulful without the inspired input of cellist Sachi Patitucci, the bassist’s wife. Or “Meditations,” one of four arrangements on Remembrance deftly accented by percussionist Rogerio Boccato. Then, too, there’s the album’s title track to consider, a solo homage to the late Michael Brecker that makes haunting use of Patitucci’s six-string electric bass and six-string electric piccolo bass. Of course, that’s not to say that the teaming of Patitucci, Lovano and Blades doesn’t deliver on its promise. Remembrance may be dedicated to, as Patitucci puts it in his liner notes, “fellow musicians who have inspired us that have recently and not so recently departed this world,” but it’s scarcely a solemn affair. The trio performances capitalize on the ensemble’s great chemistry, each in a different light, starting with the rhythmically and harmonically skewed “Monk/Trane”; the insinuating stroll “Sonny Side,” a splendid showcase for Lovano’s robust and restless tenor; and “Blues for Freddie,” a jaunty postbop salute composed, like all the tunes here, by Patitucci. When it comes to regional flavoring, though, nothing proves tastier than the Boccato-augmented quartet performance of “Messaien’s Gumbo.”

2009-11-06T12:17:23-05:00

4 Ted Sirota’s agenda here is overtly political. “No powerful movement for change,” his liner notes tell us, “can succeed without an equally powerful cultural movement to inspire, lead and uplift the people.” To that end, this set includes compositions by the likes of Miriam Makeba, Charles Mingus, Brazil’s Caetano Veloso, and the Clash, as well as five by Sirota and various members of his ensemble. To achieve its purpose, this kind of music should either be imbued with righteous militancy to spur us into action, or inspire hope by providing a sonic representation of what a better world might feel like if we could bring it about. On “13 De Maio,” Veloso’s commemoration of the abolition of slavery in Brazil, saxophonists Greg Ward and Geof Bradfield signify back and forth, building in intensity until their dialogue approximates something akin to a freedom shout; guitarist Dave Miller sounds as if he’s replicating the timbre and percussiveness of steel drums in his solo. On Miriam Makeba’s “Polo Mze Pt. 1,” Miller’s electric barbed-wire leads mix with the dual-fueled saxophones to explode into incendiary shards of power and light. “Polo Mze Pt. 2,” Sirota’s funk-toughened complement to Makeba’s composition, is aggressive and forward-thrusting throughout. Elsewhere, though, the emotional level often seems oddly tepid––the Rebel Souls’ take on the Clash’s “Clampdown,” for instance, sounds more like a leisurely meditation than a liberationist manifesto. The original compositions, meanwhile, are pleasant, but hardly groundbreaking, exercises in mainstream contemporary jazz motifs. Only Ward’s funkified “The Keys to Freedom” manages to fully invoke both backstreet grit and jazz sophistication, if still not quite revolutionary fervor. true 323 2009-11-04T22:44:15-05:00 false 25281 178 true 20 2009-12-01T00:00:00-05:00

Ted Sirota’s agenda here is overtly political. “No powerful movement for change,” his liner notes tell us, “can succeed without an equally powerful cultural movement to inspire, lead and uplift the people.” To that end, this set includes compositions by the likes of Miriam Makeba, Charles Mingus, Brazil’s Caetano Veloso, and the Clash, as well as five by Sirota and various members of his ensemble. To achieve its purpose, this kind of music should either be imbued with righteous militancy to spur us into action, or inspire hope by providing a sonic representation of what a better world might feel like if we could bring it about. On “13 De Maio,” Veloso’s commemoration of the abolition of slavery in Brazil, saxophonists Greg Ward and Geof Bradfield signify back and forth, building in intensity until their dialogue approximates something akin to a freedom shout; guitarist Dave Miller sounds as if he’s replicating the timbre and percussiveness of steel drums in his solo. On Miriam Makeba’s “Polo Mze Pt. 1,” Miller’s electric barbed-wire leads mix with the dual-fueled saxophones to explode into incendiary shards of power and light. “Polo Mze Pt. 2,” Sirota’s funk-toughened complement to Makeba’s composition, is aggressive and forward-thrusting throughout. Elsewhere, though, the emotional level often seems oddly tepid––the Rebel Souls’ take on the Clash’s “Clampdown,” for instance, sounds more like a leisurely meditation than a liberationist manifesto. The original compositions, meanwhile, are pleasant, but hardly groundbreaking, exercises in mainstream contemporary jazz motifs. Only Ward’s funkified “The Keys to Freedom” manages to fully invoke both...

2009-11-07T20:46:33-05:00

4 Pianist Jimmy Rowles once famously remarked, "Burt Bacharach's tunes sound like third alto parts." Well, don't try to sell singer Carol Duboc on that notion. Based on the effort she expended on her latest album, she's quite comfortable with the songwriter who hails from Carol's hometown, Kansas City. That effort extended to producing the session; doing all the arrangements; adding one of her own songs to the mix; and above all, securing flutist Hubert Laws to be principal soloist and gap-filler. Their music-making pays off handsomely. While Bacharach's rangy lines and awkward intervals post a challenge to most singers, Ms Duboc is not your average vocalist. She boasts a clear soprano range -- so necessary to scale the frequent Bacharach peaks -- plus firm intonation, as well as the ability to swing. In short, she's an intelligent jazz stylist. Duboc also possesses a warm, soothing alto range, which she puts to good use on her original bossa, "My Melody," and especially on "A House Is Not A Home." She takes "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" slower than most, plumbing its depth and finding a surprising poignancy in the tune, turning it into a ear-opener. "Wives and Lovers" is also given unique treatment: it has bookends in 3/4, but they bracket a straightforward, swinging 4/4. She also turns "The Look of Love" into a seductive swinger. Listen carefully to the beginning of "I'll Never Fall in Love Again:" following a clever, economical instrumental introduction, the first time Duboc sings the title, the first word, "I'll," slides off her tongue just like a Hubert Laws flute lick. Whether that was planned, or a matter of osmosis, it makes for a convenient segue. Laws goes well beyond his second billing and very nearly dominates the session. His timbre is ideal for her voice; her gaps are custom-ma de for his pithy comments. The same kind of rapport is heard elsewhere: listen for the comping support from pianist Joe Cartwright; guitarist Danny Embrey; and particularly bassist Bob Bowman. Must be something in that K.C. water. Thank you, Carol...3rd alto parts never sounded so good. true 160 2009-11-20T13:35:08-05:00 false 25347 true 20 2009-11-20T18:00:00-05:00 2009-11-20T18:00:00-05:00

Pianist Jimmy Rowles once famously remarked, "Burt Bacharach's tunes sound like third alto parts." Well, don't try to sell singer Carol Duboc on that notion. Based on the effort she expended on her latest album, she's quite comfortable with the songwriter who hails from Carol's hometown, Kansas City. That effort extended to producing the session; doing all the arrangements; adding one of her own songs to the mix; and above all, securing flutist Hubert Laws to be principal soloist and gap-filler. Their music-making pays off handsomely. While Bacharach's rangy lines and awkward intervals post a challenge to most singers, Ms Duboc is not your average vocalist. She boasts a clear soprano range -- so necessary to scale the frequent Bacharach peaks -- plus firm intonation, as well as the ability to swing. In short, she's an intelligent jazz stylist. Duboc also possesses a warm, soothing alto range, which she puts to good use on her original bossa, "My Melody," and especially on "A House Is Not A Home." She takes "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" slower than most, plumbing its depth and finding a surprising poignancy in the tune, turning it into a ear-opener. "Wives and Lovers" is also given unique treatment: it has bookends in 3/4, but they bracket a straightforward, swinging 4/4. She also turns "The Look of Love" into a seductive swinger. Listen carefully to the beginning of "I'll Never Fall in Love Again:" following a clever, economical instrumental introduction, the first time Duboc sings the title, the first word, "I'll," slides...

2009-11-20T13:41:50-05:00

4 There isn't another jazz singer on the planet who sounds like Laura Theodore. Just another way of saying she's a bona fide original. The same can be said of guitarist Joe Beck: many guitarists play and swing like he does, but his sound remains distinctive. Then consider this album. It had been in the works since late 2006, as a tribute to another much-loved original, Peggy Lee, as well as a homage to the songwriting team of Lee and her husband, Dave Barbour (also a singer-guitarist duo). Beck became ill in 2007, soon after he and Laura completed the recording sessions, and died from lung cancer in '08. The realization that this is his final recording makes it even more precious. Ms Theodore, blessed with a four-octave range, uses every bit of that spread to convey a full spectrum of emotions: from the minor mode distress of "Johnny Guitar" and the scolding sarcasm of "Why Don't You Do Right?" (What a delicious ending as Laura concludes on a strongly projected fifth, while Beck fingers his way up a minor triad, ending on a very hip major 7th; to the Latin lament, "My Small Señor;" the seductive "When You Speak With Your Eyes," containing some sultry sotto voce scat; and of course, for comic relief, "Mañana." How does Laura handle the blues? Quite effectively; check "You Was Right Baby." There are many non-Lee/Barbour standards, the most memorable being "I Get Along Without You Very Well," an expressive reading of the Hoagy Carmichael classic in which she lets her voice "grate" certain clusters of notes for dramatic effect. Speaking of effects, I have mixed feelings regarding Beck's invention, the alto guitar. He deserves no end of credit for devising an instrument that divides its six strings into two for bass notes, four for chords and/or melody. But the resulting tone has a ringing quality that tends to obscure his amazing finger runs and chordal richness. Half of the 16 tracks on the album is devoted to alto guitar; the other eight are for acoustic guitar with standard tuning. true 160 2009-11-20T13:37:16-05:00 false 25348 true 20 2009-11-20T18:00:00-05:00 2009-11-20T18:00:00-05:00

There isn't another jazz singer on the planet who sounds like Laura Theodore. Just another way of saying she's a bona fide original. The same can be said of guitarist Joe Beck: many guitarists play and swing like he does, but his sound remains distinctive. Then consider this album. It had been in the works since late 2006, as a tribute to another much-loved original, Peggy Lee, as well as a homage to the songwriting team of Lee and her husband, Dave Barbour (also a singer-guitarist duo). Beck became ill in 2007, soon after he and Laura completed the recording sessions, and died from lung cancer in '08. The realization that this is his final recording makes it even more precious. Ms Theodore, blessed with a four-octave range, uses every bit of that spread to convey a full spectrum of emotions: from the minor mode distress of "Johnny Guitar" and the scolding sarcasm of "Why Don't You Do Right?" (What a delicious ending as Laura concludes on a strongly projected fifth, while Beck fingers his way up a minor triad, ending on a very hip major 7th; to the Latin lament, "My Small Señor;" the seductive "When You Speak With Your Eyes," containing some sultry sotto voce scat; and of course, for comic relief, "Mañana." How does Laura handle the blues? Quite effectively; check "You Was Right Baby." There are many non-Lee/Barbour standards, the most memorable being "I Get Along Without You Very Well," an expressive reading of the Hoagy Carmichael classic in which she lets...

2009-11-20T13:42:20-05:00

4 <i>Jam on Guitars</i>, a new twelve-track compilation from Magnatude, assembles wildly eclectic playing from guitarists across a wide variety of disciplines. With music that ranges from warm & bright roots-rock jams and minor key, bluesy shuffles to wah-wah drenched funk throwdowns and borderline easy listening, the disc's genre-jumping demonstrates the guitar's range, but proves to be a bit of an uneven listen. Michael Lee Firkins' "Took the Words Right Outta My Mouth," kicks off the disc with Hammond B3 fills and the leader's twangy, slightly fuzzed-out slide work, and is followed by Steve Morse's harmonized-lead stomp, "Free in the Park." A joyous horn-and-organ driven take on Sly and the Family Stone's funk-rock staple "Dance to the Music" precedes an unlikely pairing that follows: Alex Skolnick of thrash metal bastion Testament and the ever-adventurous eight-string jazz-fusion master Charlie Hunter, who bounce snaky, fluid lines off each other's amps in "Scorch," a cerebral, syncopated jazz-funk shuffle. "Gulab Jammin'" is a six-minute detour into a heady Indian groove, replete with tribal-chant background vocals and pulsating percussion. After the breezy easy-prog of "Lake Shore Drive," Phil Upchurch's "Flashlight" gets the funk party going again, and Will Bernard cranks up the distortion for his fat power chords and serpentine-like slide guitar figures in "Dump Truck." Unfortunately, "Rome" and "Disdots" are marred by heavy use of synth, and closer "Starlite Jamboree" continues the easy pace of its predecessors, and never quite catches fire. Although it's billed as a collection of the finest players in "jam band universe," there isn't much here to please the palate of the noodle-jam lovers. The liner notes also praise the disc's emphasis on "substance, not technique." There <i>is</i> some outstanding playing here – but only a fraction of it seems truly inspired. true 18609 2009-11-20T12:16:55-05:00 false 25344 true 20 2009-11-20T16:00:00-05:00 2009-11-20T16:00:00-05:00

Jam on Guitars , a new twelve-track compilation from Magnatude, assembles wildly eclectic playing from guitarists across a wide variety of disciplines. With music that ranges from warm & bright roots-rock jams and minor key, bluesy shuffles to wah-wah drenched funk throwdowns and borderline easy listening, the disc's genre-jumping demonstrates the guitar's range, but proves to be a bit of an uneven listen. Michael Lee Firkins' "Took the Words Right Outta My Mouth," kicks off the disc with Hammond B3 fills and the leader's twangy, slightly fuzzed-out slide work, and is followed by Steve Morse's harmonized-lead stomp, "Free in the Park." A joyous horn-and-organ driven take on Sly and the Family Stone's funk-rock staple "Dance to the Music" precedes an unlikely pairing that follows: Alex Skolnick of thrash metal bastion Testament and the ever-adventurous eight-string jazz-fusion master Charlie Hunter, who bounce snaky, fluid lines off each other's amps in "Scorch," a cerebral, syncopated jazz-funk shuffle. "Gulab Jammin'" is a six-minute detour into a heady Indian groove, replete with tribal-chant background vocals and pulsating percussion. After the breezy easy-prog of "Lake Shore Drive," Phil Upchurch's "Flashlight" gets the funk party going again, and Will Bernard cranks up the distortion for his fat power chords and serpentine-like slide guitar figures in "Dump Truck." Unfortunately, "Rome" and "Disdots" are marred by heavy use of synth, and closer "Starlite Jamboree" continues the easy pace of its predecessors, and never quite catches fire. Although it's billed as a collection of the finest players in "jam band universe," there isn't much here...

2009-11-20T12:16:55-05:00

4 Saxist Larry Ochs crafts the opening passage of <I>Stone Shift</I> with the raspy tonality of his tenor. Ochs is saying to his Drumming Core: “This is the feeling I want to convey.” His set-up works. Featuring drummers Donald Robinson and Scott Amendola, keyboardist Satoko Fujii and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, Ochs’ group structures an extraordinary musical topography. The drumming does become the ‘core’ for the musical evolution and patently substantiates the weight of expressiveness from the other instruments. A crashing sibilance of the cymbals, a simple rhythmic tapping on their edges or centers, the rumbling of the toms or the endless combinations thereof gives freedom to the sax, trumpet and keyboards to intensify their rich convolutions. The interaction of the players could not be tighter. The quintet succeeds in making the first track, “Across From Over,” an open stage on which the musicians can either stomp or fly. Sax and trumpet, driven by impenetrable drumming pulsations, bring the music to places ripe with transition. The exaggerated reediness of the sax, the tight-lipped muted-ness of the trumpet converse as the drumming becomes increasingly percussive or the piano/synthesizer reverberates to impose an atmospheric control. Momentary rest begins “Abstraction Rising” and intercedes in the closing moments of “Stone Shift.” Sometimes highlighted with brief sax-trumpet synchronies or exquisite piano phrasings, crescendos of sax brashness and unforgiving furious textures state the essence of this improvisational adventure. Cascades of metamorphosing planes intersect, cut through space, grab hold of, dig into or skip over the ground. Multiplicities of multi-phonic sonic waves travel through each lengthy track. Each instrument has its time to flourish and speak in its own pure tone, either in sequence as in “Finn Veers for Venus,” or through such webbed interconnection with the other instruments that the music is invariably one cohesive, indivisible stream. true 17952 2009-11-20T12:21:13-05:00 false 25345 true 20 2009-11-20T15:20:00-05:00 2009-11-20T15:20:00-05:00

Saxist Larry Ochs crafts the opening passage of Stone Shift with the raspy tonality of his tenor. Ochs is saying to his Drumming Core: “This is the feeling I want to convey.” His set-up works. Featuring drummers Donald Robinson and Scott Amendola, keyboardist Satoko Fujii and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, Ochs’ group structures an extraordinary musical topography. The drumming does become the ‘core’ for the musical evolution and patently substantiates the weight of expressiveness from the other instruments. A crashing sibilance of the cymbals, a simple rhythmic tapping on their edges or centers, the rumbling of the toms or the endless combinations thereof gives freedom to the sax, trumpet and keyboards to intensify their rich convolutions. The interaction of the players could not be tighter. The quintet succeeds in making the first track, “Across From Over,” an open stage on which the musicians can either stomp or fly. Sax and trumpet, driven by impenetrable drumming pulsations, bring the music to places ripe with transition. The exaggerated reediness of the sax, the tight-lipped muted-ness of the trumpet converse as the drumming becomes increasingly percussive or the piano/synthesizer reverberates to impose an atmospheric control. Momentary rest begins “Abstraction Rising” and intercedes in the closing moments of “Stone Shift.” Sometimes highlighted with brief sax-trumpet synchronies or exquisite piano phrasings, crescendos of sax brashness and unforgiving furious textures state the essence of this improvisational adventure. Cascades of metamorphosing planes intersect, cut through space, grab hold of, dig into or skip over the ground. Multiplicities of multi-phonic sonic waves travel through each...

2009-11-20T12:21:19-05:00

4 If you don't take this initial volume of Gypsy jazz (a sequel implied?) too seriously, you can enjoy it as a relaxed, happy session of new and old friends: drummer/singer Les DeMerle and his wife, singer/ percussionist Bonnie Eisele, backed by the house band that plays every Monday night at Mulligan's On the Blue, in Wailea, Maui. The combo, Gypsy Pacific, consists of violinist Willie Wainwright; guitarists Tom Conway and Phil Benoit; and bassist Marcus Johnson. Their instrumentation says it all: Gypsy Pacific is styled after its musical icon, The Hot Club of France. Not surprising ly, among the 15 tracks, you will not hear one Hawaiian lick. Engineer Jake Rohrer recorded the album in his studio-in-a-home, in nearby Haiku, and deserves much credit for keeping acoustic and domestic distractions under control. Control is also DeMerle's strong suit. As Rohrer noted in his liner notes, DeMerle took command, benignly, of everything musical. His ideas proved ingenious, considering the forces at his disposal. The steady chomping of the guitars, reinforced by the bass, sustain the image of the Hot Club. Wainwright's fluid, and occasionally lachrymose, fiddling brings Grappelly into sharp focus. DeMerle's arrangements preserve the familiar two-beat swing. Good examples abound: Sonny Rollins' "Pent Up Home;" "St Louis Blues, replete with tango rhythm; and Django's own "Heavy Artillery." Eisele's voice is problematic, due to a hard-to-control vibrato, but she compensates by sheer force of personality, a de vice used with equal success by DeMerle. Eisele's best moments are heard on "Skylark;" "Let Me," a fast bossa over pulsating brush work by DeMerle; and "Swingin' Shepherd Blues," particularly her flawless unison (with and without words) with guest soprano saxophonist, David Choy: his only contribution. Also worthy of mention: "Hit That Jive Jack," a well-rehea rsed set piece featuring Eisele and DeMerle on precisely phrased vocals. It's campy, extremely retro, but it fits so well during a session in Paradise, especially its turnaround expression, "Ja-dee-ah-duh." (Accented like that old refrain, "How's Yer Mother.") true 160 2009-11-07T22:48:00-05:00 false 25301 true 20 2009-11-20T15:00:00-05:00 2009-11-20T15:00:00-05:00

If you don't take this initial volume of Gypsy jazz (a sequel implied?) too seriously, you can enjoy it as a relaxed, happy session of new and old friends: drummer/singer Les DeMerle and his wife, singer/ percussionist Bonnie Eisele, backed by the house band that plays every Monday night at Mulligan's On the Blue, in Wailea, Maui. The combo, Gypsy Pacific, consists of violinist Willie Wainwright; guitarists Tom Conway and Phil Benoit; and bassist Marcus Johnson. Their instrumentation says it all: Gypsy Pacific is styled after its musical icon, The Hot Club of France. Not surprising ly, among the 15 tracks, you will not hear one Hawaiian lick. Engineer Jake Rohrer recorded the album in his studio-in-a-home, in nearby Haiku, and deserves much credit for keeping acoustic and domestic distractions under control. Control is also DeMerle's strong suit. As Rohrer noted in his liner notes, DeMerle took command, benignly, of everything musical. His ideas proved ingenious, considering the forces at his disposal. The steady chomping of the guitars, reinforced by the bass, sustain the image of the Hot Club. Wainwright's fluid, and occasionally lachrymose, fiddling brings Grappelly into sharp focus. DeMerle's arrangements preserve the familiar two-beat swing. Good examples abound: Sonny Rollins' "Pent Up Home;" "St Louis Blues, replete with tango rhythm; and Django's own "Heavy Artillery." Eisele's voice is problematic, due to a hard-to-control vibrato, but she compensates by sheer force of personality, a de vice used with equal success by DeMerle. Eisele's best moments are heard on "Skylark;" "Let Me," a fast bossa over...

2009-11-20T12:12:03-05:00

4 Guitarist Royce Campbell has a liking for taking chord progressions from familiar standards and improvising new melodies with them. He thinks outside of the box while using material that comes from inside the box. He does so on his sophomore album <I>Roses And Wine</I> from Philology Records, opening with a rollicking jive-inspired tune “Take A Train” that conjures up the feeling of riding a steam locomotive across country. There is more to Campbell’s music than the melodic haikus of his guitar pizzicatos or andante strumming, for instance, the folksy-Hawaiian sizzle in the chord textures of the title track infuses a pacifying mood which features the bebop phrasing of Hod O’Brien’s piano keys. Also showcased on the recording are Pete Spaar and James King who share the bass duties. Every track sounds like it is smiling at the listener thumping along the upbeat ruminations of the trio and the pliable chord coordinates of the melodic patterns. The smooth bluesy piping of “Lover Guy” pervades a sensual stroll in Campbell‘s guitar riffs as the vigorous arcos of the bass in “There’s No Other You” are enhanced by add-ons of vaunting jetties in the piano phrases. The laid back chord expressions of “D. .Jam Blues” have a Louisiana sound that shifts into a cool bebop traction in “All The Things.” The leisurely gait of the piano keys in “That’s Not All” moves in harmony with the moonlight coloring of Campbell’s guitar chords as the comfy grooves of “More Than Just Friends” imbue the melody with a cheerful sprint. The bebop motifs strewn across “Into Nowhere:” and “D. Jam Blues” have a vintage Americana feel reminiscent to Chet Baker and props a happy tapping along the rhythmic beats. <I>Roses and Wine</I> is feel good music from beginning to end and displays the trio’s ability to play like a well-oiled machine. Campbell has a lengthy recording history that includes working on tribute albums for Wes Montgomery and Henri Mancici, in addition to being a sideman on other artists records as well as making albums in his own right. The authenticity in Campbell’s playing breeds sunshine and joy in the seams of the transitional phrases and chord progressions making music that gravitates to going up the shafts. true 13087 2009-11-20T12:10:59-05:00 false 25343 true 20 2009-11-20T12:00:00-05:00 2009-11-20T12:00:00-05:00

Guitarist Royce Campbell has a liking for taking chord progressions from familiar standards and improvising new melodies with them. He thinks outside of the box while using material that comes from inside the box. He does so on his sophomore album Roses And Wine from Philology Records, opening with a rollicking jive-inspired tune “Take A Train” that conjures up the feeling of riding a steam locomotive across country. There is more to Campbell’s music than the melodic haikus of his guitar pizzicatos or andante strumming, for instance, the folksy-Hawaiian sizzle in the chord textures of the title track infuses a pacifying mood which features the bebop phrasing of Hod O’Brien’s piano keys. Also showcased on the recording are Pete Spaar and James King who share the bass duties. Every track sounds like it is smiling at the listener thumping along the upbeat ruminations of the trio and the pliable chord coordinates of the melodic patterns. The smooth bluesy piping of “Lover Guy” pervades a sensual stroll in Campbell‘s guitar riffs as the vigorous arcos of the bass in “There’s No Other You” are enhanced by add-ons of vaunting jetties in the piano phrases. The laid back chord expressions of “D. .Jam Blues” have a Louisiana sound that shifts into a cool bebop traction in “All The Things.” The leisurely gait of the piano keys in “That’s Not All” moves in harmony with the moonlight coloring of Campbell’s guitar chords as the comfy grooves of “More Than Just Friends” imbue the melody with a cheerful sprint. The...

2009-11-20T12:42:48-05:00

4 The four piece combo who call themselves The Reese Project create a musical dialogue that is lively and harmoniously wheedled as the roving flutters of flutist Tom Reese are supported by the easy going tapping of drummer Aaron Walker and the fluid spins of guitarist Bobby Brewer and cellist Laurie Reese. The group’s latest effort Eastern Standard Time is a culmination of avant-based décor, melodic entangklements, vibrant exchanges, and orchestral polished jaunts. The foursome move every place imaginable on the chamber jazz spectrum without ever venturing off into dissension. All the elements work in agreement through the changes and progressions enabling the group to move as a solid unit while making space for individual expressions. Like a chain-gang. The Reese Project are tethered to one another and where one goes, the others soon follow. The exchanges between the flute and guitar are often very active like in “Just Friends” stimulating tides of vacillation and spreads of bountiful buds. The ribbons of swirling twits from the flute and bouncy guitar patterns in “Alone Together” and “Heads Up &amp; Gone” produce an amicable dialogue as the cello kneads into the melodic motions. The album turns more relaxing and pensive in the balladry frames of “Blue Dali” and “Meditation” and then rises up to a party mix in the swinging jaunts of “Out Of Nowhere.” Maintaining that upbeat posture, the album travels into the traipsing strolls of “Somethin’s Brewin’” and the flaccid whorls of the flute and jazzy guitar chords injecting a bluesy tone in “When Sunny Gets Blue.” The track is supported by the coasting rhythmic grooves while the dulcet pirouettes of the flute along “Moment In Blue” halo the soft panorama with wispy breezes. The Latin-based rhythm of “Black Orpheus” is the backbone for the prancing flutters in the flute and the waltzing strokes of the cello. On the other hand, the boppish grooves of “Altoid Junkie” become an integral part of the tingling sensations emanating from the twittering phrases of the flute and meteor shower of sparks from the guitar chords. The quartet does not have a singular way of thinking their compositions through but relish in paving new avenues of experimentation and producing fresh melodic forms. Uniting traditional vamps with experimental counterpoints, The Reese Project exemplify melodic aspects that rise above sounding ordinary. Teaming up with Grammy-award winning producer Jack Kreisberg, Eastern Standard Time goes beyond chamber jazz boundaries and gels orchestral pop with chamber folk and experimental music to form an exciting interaction in their instruments. true 13087 2009-11-20T03:28:39-05:00 false 25339 true 20 2009-11-20T03:28:00-05:00 2009-11-20T03:28:00-05:00

The four piece combo who call themselves The Reese Project create a musical dialogue that is lively and harmoniously wheedled as the roving flutters of flutist Tom Reese are supported by the easy going tapping of drummer Aaron Walker and the fluid spins of guitarist Bobby Brewer and cellist Laurie Reese. The group’s latest effort Eastern Standard Time is a culmination of avant-based décor, melodic entangklements, vibrant exchanges, and orchestral polished jaunts. The foursome move every place imaginable on the chamber jazz spectrum without ever venturing off into dissension. All the elements work in agreement through the changes and progressions enabling the group to move as a solid unit while making space for individual expressions. Like a chain-gang. The Reese Project are tethered to one another and where one goes, the others soon follow. The exchanges between the flute and guitar are often very active like in “Just Friends” stimulating tides of vacillation and spreads of bountiful buds. The ribbons of swirling twits from the flute and bouncy guitar patterns in “Alone Together” and “Heads Up &amp; Gone” produce an amicable dialogue as the cello kneads into the melodic motions. The album turns more relaxing and pensive in the balladry frames of “Blue Dali” and “Meditation” and then rises up to a party mix in the swinging jaunts of “Out Of Nowhere.” Maintaining that upbeat posture, the album travels into the traipsing strolls of “Somethin’s Brewin’” and the flaccid whorls of the flute and jazzy guitar chords injecting a bluesy tone in “When Sunny Gets Blue.”...

2009-11-20T12:44:47-05:00

4 As a keyboardist, composer and bandleader, David Leonhardt exhibits a palpable eagerness to expand his repertoire and shows enjoyment in exploring his abilities as a musician and arranger. His latest project, Bach To The Blues is an assortment of classical pieces which Leonhardt puts his own spin on with the assistance of his band mates Matthew Parrish on bass and Alvester Garnett on drums. Leonhardt’s interpretation of classical numbers penned by such icons as Chopin, Debussy, Beethoven, and Bach infuse dazzling frills and eloquent trimmings that enhance the chords dynamics and ease the shifts in the melodic transitions, thereby composing a balance between free-style exertions and conventional chamber jazz motifs. Leonhardt takes the starch out of traditional fixtures in classical pieces and opens them up to new melodic expressions without compromising their skeletal structure. The dramatic swags of the piano keys in Schubert’s “Ava Maria” are gorgeous, and the bowed arches and soft inflections of the piano keys that Leonhardt puts in Erik Satie’s “Gymnopedic No. 1” are synchronized in accordance with the rhythmic beats. Mounds of chamber-style piano keys brandish an orchestral pageantry in Bach’s “Prelude In A Minor” heightening each stage of the piece, while the dark, heavy tones of Beethoven’s “Adagio From Pathetique” are garbed in gloomy shadows which gradually increase their altitude and develop into a banquet of cherubic-like frolics along the sequences of ruffling piano keys. Leonhardt’s performance ranges from the massaging strokes he puts in Bach’s “Prelude In G Major” to the shimmery, starlight texture he shrouds Debussy’s “Claire de Lune” with from start to finish. The bustling pace of his chord progressions through Bach’s “Prelude In Bb” climb up and down the music scale with the dexterity of a master, and the sophistication he executes in his extensions along Chopin’s “Magurka In C Minor” are statuesque. The piano keys create a garland of frills and circular motions across “Simple Gifts” producing a comfy bounce, which contrasts the somber pitch of Pachelbel’s “Canon In D” padded by the malleable movements of the piano keys and the rhythmic splashing of the cymbal strikes. David Leonhardt is a stylist and an innovator in the realm of chamber jazz. He coats the compositions in various degrees of light and dark shades and never loses his grip on the reins. He handles the chord progressions like a master craftsman, and explores his abilities with the will of an adventurer. Bach To The Blues demonstrates Leonhardt’s ability to expand on classical themes without corrupting them in the process. true 13087 2009-11-20T02:42:38-05:00 false 25338 true 20 2009-11-20T02:42:00-05:00 2009-11-20T02:42:00-05:00

Album review of the David Leonhardt Trio's CD, <I>Bach To The Blues</I>

2009-11-20T12:48:03-05:00

4 Pianist Pamela Hines exhibits an intuitive nature when it comes to punctuating her notes and making distinctive accents that intensify the mood of her music. Her new CD, <I>This Heart Of Mine</> is a collection of original tunes and covers that demonstrate her ability to mold expressive vignettes and bridge her vamps and counterpoints into classic ballroom-style jazz forms. Her notations depict her emotions even as she covers compositions written by Cole Porter and Duke Ellington. At times, her sequences are embroiling, and at other moments they exhibit a serenity along the ruminations. Hines’ playing creates an imaginary world as she looms cascading falls and melodic swells in the piano keys producing settings which are conducive for deep contemplation and transition into unbridled fun around the corner. She travels through a gamut of musical ideas that honor the giants in jazz while infusing harmonious style changes in American standards. Hines’ interpretation of Duke Ellington’s number “Reflections In D” shimmers with the glossy resonance of a harp as she merges the ambling riffs with fringes of moonlight-embossed strokes inspired by John Lennon’s “Across The Universe.” Her take on Bud Powell’s “Celia” displays classic piano jaunts with vaudeville-tweaked sprees as her keys twinkle with a sprightly edge on them. The luminous texture of Hines’ brushed sweeps in the title track are aurally pleasing while sustaining a mysterious shadow in her counterpoints that lurk beneath the surface. The perky vamps that Hines injects into Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale” makes it seem like a new song as her meanderings roam in unscripted sentences. The reposing slopes of “Where Are You?” contrast the quick-step tempo of “Freight Train” as the bop-style of the rhythmic patterns make it sound like a period piece. The soft, lacy frills of “Eternal Flame” and “I’m In The Mood For Love” are seductive reeling a romantic aura which switches gears to a lively showtunes vibe in Cole Porter’s “What Is This Thing Called Love?” before closing the album with Ralph Towner’s “Icarus” giving the illusion that her piano keys are gently flying through the air. Artists often say that they play with passion and it shows with Pamela Hines. She wears that passion on her sleeves as her notes depict what she is going through like an autobiography set to music. <I>This Heart Of Mine</> bares pieces of Hines’ soul even as she covers other artists works making their material a reflection of herself. true 13087 2009-11-20T12:30:23-05:00 false 25346 true 20 2009-11-15T12:00:00-05:00 2009-11-15T12:00:00-05:00

Pianist Pamela Hines exhibits an intuitive nature when it comes to punctuating her notes and making distinctive accents that intensify the mood of her music. Her new CD, This Heart Of Mine is a collection of original tunes and covers that demonstrate her ability to mold expressive vignettes and bridge her vamps and counterpoints into classic ballroom-style jazz forms. Her notations depict her emotions even as she covers compositions written by Cole Porter and Duke Ellington. At times, her sequences are embroiling, and at other moments they exhibit a serenity along the ruminations. Hines’ playing creates an imaginary world as she looms cascading falls and melodic swells in the piano keys producing settings which are conducive for deep contemplation and transition into unbridled fun around the corner. She travels through a gamut of musical ideas that honor the giants in jazz while infusing harmonious style changes in American standards. Hines’ interpretation of Duke Ellington’s number “Reflections In D” shimmers with the glossy resonance of a harp as she merges the ambling riffs with fringes of moonlight-embossed strokes inspired by John Lennon’s “Across The Universe.” Her take on Bud Powell’s “Celia” displays classic piano jaunts with vaudeville-tweaked sprees as her keys twinkle with a sprightly edge on them. The luminous texture of Hines’ brushed sweeps in the title track are aurally pleasing while sustaining a mysterious shadow in her counterpoints that lurk beneath the surface. The perky vamps that Hines injects into Cole Porter’s “Love For Sale” makes it seem like a new song as her meanderings...

2009-11-20T12:43:27-05:00