Garrett, Kenny - Beyond the Wall
This immaculately produced album from Kenny Garrett contains material influenced by the sax giant's experience of China, hence the title. The opening 2 minutes' cacophony finally yield to a slow 6/8 groove that has that perfect jazz feeling off forever falling behind the beat but never actually doing so. If the harmony was different it could be called bluesy. As it is, we experience Coltranian modality through McCoy Tyner style piano comping and a flesh and blood connection courtesy of Pharaoh Sanders. The tenor powerhouse is soon joined by Garrett as the two duet in a soulful and plaintive style. Garrett's tone throughout this record is at his peak, searing, bright, cutting, yet with girth and persistently refusing to be outhonked by the tenor. Sax players do often seem to glean a peculiar enjoyment from playing with other sax players, and often spur each other on in directions that foreign instruments would not. The ponderous head returns which I can only imagine being directed by Garrett's up-down heavy conducteresque gestures. The dovetailing into the free time section is seem less and the protracted ending is the way it always should be in these pieces.
The title track is next, with a hard-swinging head followed by an even harder swinging piano solo from ivory king Mulgrew . Drummer Brian unleashes a ballistic ride groove unfailingly buoyed along by xxx on bass. When Garrett enters with his solo he is at his melodic best but also deploys heaps of dense bop language along with a Mr. PC quote thrown in for good measure. If the solo were a cake it would be fit for a royal wedding. At once flashy and authentic, Garrett is a musician who has rarely failed to impress me. His playing even when below par is exciting, interesting and honest. Pharaoh has a different connection with time and doesn't follow with as much vitality as Garrett. Fragmented and hurried at times it feels to me like Pharaoh for all his evident ability has always played second fiddle, first to Coltrane, now weirdly to Garrett, so many years his junior, and doubtless on this record through his acquaintance with Garrett as a mentor. I often ponder this culture of veneration in jazz and wonder whether sometimes too much credence is given to the greatness of some artists solely because of their age or discography.
In Qing Wen we become aware of vibes and voices which adds a fresh colour. The balance of instruments and the placement of every nuanced line by the band is absolutely riveting and if the material is repetitive, the interpretations, embellishments and transformations presented maintain the interest from beginning to end. I could fill several paragraphs waxing lyrical about the recording quality, but it may also be the choice of instruments as much as mic placements and compression plug-ins. Every musician on this record has rock solid timing and near-telepathic aural responses. No sooner has one member of the band sidestepped the harmony then someone else has responded in kind with an echoing interjection or pre-emptive hit. Even the most mis-timed ideas and unusual note choices are fixed in situ and become part of the great grooving sweep of each song. An ending leaves hanging before monks enter with their chanting. Sometimes blends of styles are successful and sometimes they are misguided. Realisation (Marching Toward the Light) is possibly hovering too far around the new age for my liking but to Garret's amazing band's focus means that what they play is not simply a bolt on to the chanting. The two disparate elements function and interact in a way that is free from corny stereotype. Jazz it certainly is, but there is also clearly a respect to the vocal tradition that is presented so evocatively here. The monks fade and the vocals of xxx enter. One of the features of this great recording is that no track feels curtailed. Rather, every idea is fully worked through and explored until properly and unquestionably completed. The gongs are gorgeous too. Tsunami Song features a wobbling ethnic wind instrument. Solid violin playing, tastefully and carefully phrased lines are a welcome respite from the sax and vibes piercings. Harp arpeggios add yet another colour, but the sonic smorgasbord never becomes farcical. Drums here are understated and sensitive, though never letting the groove slip even for a nano-second. A sad Kiss to the Skies follows, another new age title where I revert to the music and try not engage with what superstitious folly this tune may actually be about. The scatting is slightly clichéd, but the piano makes amends for all. Jazz musicians' and modern society in general's fascination with the East always bemuses me. My hunch is that it also bemuses Eastern people. The music can't really be criticised here, but the new age vibe and outlook does seem rather pretentious if not downright silly at times. Garrett garners vocal support in his solo which overwhelms and drops us in extremely deep musical water. The experience is at once unsettling and pleasurable. Garrett is surely the best alto screamer on the scene (if there is a screaming scene) and he deploys some of his greatest wails at the gigantic ending of this song.
A cool minor groove kicks off in Now with a slightly more urban and frenetic feeling. Vibes take their most experimental solo while the bass and drums keep things vibrant. Mulgrew also has an experimental outing of his own while the smiles and cheery batterings of Blade clearly keep everything locked together. Pharaoh, like many other late-Trane collaborators took a conservative turn following Coltrane's death. Some seem to have been more daring and left-field when young. Now as senior jazz statesmen they play more to emulate and reproduce the tenor master. A fade-out on a record like this always feels weird but it matters not because the cheerfully minor strains of Gwoka are quick to arrest our attention. Garrett has methodically cheeky lines here, stretching the mode as much as he jolly well feels like. I remember Kenny announcing this recording at Ronnie Scott's weeks before its release. An audience member groaned with pleasure at the naming of Mulgrew and Blade, to which an amused Garrett asked "you like that?!". The fan remained speechless but we can certainly conclude now that we do indeed like it a great deal. Vibes' sustain is quite intrusive but here it only contributes to the colour and intense atmosphere, even (especially?) on dissonant notes. An odd nursery rhyme quote by Garrett does seem to be ignored by the band, but otherwise the whole quality of the track is exemplary. Finally the benediction May Peace Be Upon Them rounds off the record in a loose and raggedly cool, but intense blessing. The broken time feel is so enjoyable and brings the album full circle. More wails and yellings from the alto have the band quaking with delight and probably many listeners too. The density of material steadily expands, ebbs, flows, transforms, disintegrates, explodes, implodes and eventually goes supernova, possibly twice. The sheer physicality of these musicians is palpably visceral and at times frightening. Far from a true benediction, this culminating track feels like an unresolved railing at death, albeit a musically brilliant one.
The title track is next, with a hard-swinging head followed by an even harder swinging piano solo from ivory king Mulgrew . Drummer Brian unleashes a ballistic ride groove unfailingly buoyed along by xxx on bass. When Garrett enters with his solo he is at his melodic best but also deploys heaps of dense bop language along with a Mr. PC quote thrown in for good measure. If the solo were a cake it would be fit for a royal wedding. At once flashy and authentic, Garrett is a musician who has rarely failed to impress me. His playing even when below par is exciting, interesting and honest. Pharaoh has a different connection with time and doesn't follow with as much vitality as Garrett. Fragmented and hurried at times it feels to me like Pharaoh for all his evident ability has always played second fiddle, first to Coltrane, now weirdly to Garrett, so many years his junior, and doubtless on this record through his acquaintance with Garrett as a mentor. I often ponder this culture of veneration in jazz and wonder whether sometimes too much credence is given to the greatness of some artists solely because of their age or discography.
In Qing Wen we become aware of vibes and voices which adds a fresh colour. The balance of instruments and the placement of every nuanced line by the band is absolutely riveting and if the material is repetitive, the interpretations, embellishments and transformations presented maintain the interest from beginning to end. I could fill several paragraphs waxing lyrical about the recording quality, but it may also be the choice of instruments as much as mic placements and compression plug-ins. Every musician on this record has rock solid timing and near-telepathic aural responses. No sooner has one member of the band sidestepped the harmony then someone else has responded in kind with an echoing interjection or pre-emptive hit. Even the most mis-timed ideas and unusual note choices are fixed in situ and become part of the great grooving sweep of each song. An ending leaves hanging before monks enter with their chanting. Sometimes blends of styles are successful and sometimes they are misguided. Realisation (Marching Toward the Light) is possibly hovering too far around the new age for my liking but to Garret's amazing band's focus means that what they play is not simply a bolt on to the chanting. The two disparate elements function and interact in a way that is free from corny stereotype. Jazz it certainly is, but there is also clearly a respect to the vocal tradition that is presented so evocatively here. The monks fade and the vocals of xxx enter. One of the features of this great recording is that no track feels curtailed. Rather, every idea is fully worked through and explored until properly and unquestionably completed. The gongs are gorgeous too. Tsunami Song features a wobbling ethnic wind instrument. Solid violin playing, tastefully and carefully phrased lines are a welcome respite from the sax and vibes piercings. Harp arpeggios add yet another colour, but the sonic smorgasbord never becomes farcical. Drums here are understated and sensitive, though never letting the groove slip even for a nano-second. A sad Kiss to the Skies follows, another new age title where I revert to the music and try not engage with what superstitious folly this tune may actually be about. The scatting is slightly clichéd, but the piano makes amends for all. Jazz musicians' and modern society in general's fascination with the East always bemuses me. My hunch is that it also bemuses Eastern people. The music can't really be criticised here, but the new age vibe and outlook does seem rather pretentious if not downright silly at times. Garrett garners vocal support in his solo which overwhelms and drops us in extremely deep musical water. The experience is at once unsettling and pleasurable. Garrett is surely the best alto screamer on the scene (if there is a screaming scene) and he deploys some of his greatest wails at the gigantic ending of this song.
A cool minor groove kicks off in Now with a slightly more urban and frenetic feeling. Vibes take their most experimental solo while the bass and drums keep things vibrant. Mulgrew also has an experimental outing of his own while the smiles and cheery batterings of Blade clearly keep everything locked together. Pharaoh, like many other late-Trane collaborators took a conservative turn following Coltrane's death. Some seem to have been more daring and left-field when young. Now as senior jazz statesmen they play more to emulate and reproduce the tenor master. A fade-out on a record like this always feels weird but it matters not because the cheerfully minor strains of Gwoka are quick to arrest our attention. Garrett has methodically cheeky lines here, stretching the mode as much as he jolly well feels like. I remember Kenny announcing this recording at Ronnie Scott's weeks before its release. An audience member groaned with pleasure at the naming of Mulgrew and Blade, to which an amused Garrett asked "you like that?!". The fan remained speechless but we can certainly conclude now that we do indeed like it a great deal. Vibes' sustain is quite intrusive but here it only contributes to the colour and intense atmosphere, even (especially?) on dissonant notes. An odd nursery rhyme quote by Garrett does seem to be ignored by the band, but otherwise the whole quality of the track is exemplary. Finally the benediction May Peace Be Upon Them rounds off the record in a loose and raggedly cool, but intense blessing. The broken time feel is so enjoyable and brings the album full circle. More wails and yellings from the alto have the band quaking with delight and probably many listeners too. The density of material steadily expands, ebbs, flows, transforms, disintegrates, explodes, implodes and eventually goes supernova, possibly twice. The sheer physicality of these musicians is palpably visceral and at times frightening. Far from a true benediction, this culminating track feels like an unresolved railing at death, albeit a musically brilliant one.