Okazaki, Miles - Generations
Any large scale work has to begin with an overture, here provided in the sensibly titled...Overture. It struck me listening to this just how rarely we here accelerandi in jazz. A building effect with Okazaki's pedal ringing through prepares us for modern alto legend Dave Binney's plaintive penetration with the head, later harmonised. Chattering away for a moment before ascending scales segue into 'Sun' although it seems like they could happily be one composition. More tonally centred than some M-BASE experiments, Okazaki marries complexity and beauty in a fascinating way here, with crystal clear production. A spidery bass solo and guitar meander finish things off before Waves takes stage, overtly presenting the title through volume fades on guitar and vibrato pulses on alto. Drums sound like they're being tapped with hands sans snares, creating an intimate and intriguing sonority. Cymbal rolls are choked before brushes propel the alto solo onwards. The dense language of Binney pays its debt with interest to hard bop. The repetitive shapes are so expertly crafted that they never sound wily ignorant, but rather high information collages of sound. Miguel Zenón also plays alto and the similarity in tone to Binney is no stumbling block to musical interest. The drums use sticks here and push right on the front of the beat with tremendous energy. The singing has clear diction but no words are discernable. Drums often break and block all motion which generates enormous tension and release. Choked hi hats cue outline melodies in the solo lines as the harmonies rise in dissonance and pitch. Just as Okazaki sounds like his neck will run out of voicings he manages to find another, pushing his trio of alto soloists over the cliff edge into musical neologisms. The expressive freedom here is palpable. Tender phonemes from vocalist Jen Shyu segue into Magic where her mature voice is bathed in a tasteful reverb, a credit to Michael Marciano's skills behind the mixing desk. 3 minutes of essentially solo meta-scat are broken by subtone altos and brushes. The textures build with richer overtones coming through on all instruments, whilst still maintaining the relaxed atmosphere. The sense of purpose grows and the direction of the tune starts to become clearer, all the more effective for the slow and sparse introduction that preceded. The magic has performed a transformation and again high-potency beats and razor sharp syncopations catch us brutally. The coda is calmer facilitating the move to the title track, Generations. Okazaki's chords are cleverly voiced and not predictable bebop canon. He has crafted really a through composed album of extremely intricate material whilst still allowing his musicians space aplenty to explore his canvasses. Tempo flexibility here is again an interesting feature, something I once noted on Branford Marsalis' significant Requiem recording. At times tender, at other moments hostile and red-eyed, Generations runs the gamut of expressivity. Beautiful woody bass plucking takes us step by step into the Ghosts, which teases more than haunts. The opening alto solo is a little more nasal than previous outings, and it's really moments like this which demonstrate the musicians' obvious commitment to the music rather than personal glory. Altissimo lines are effective and yield another new colour. Hard panned saxes change the direction of the tune with odd pseudo-echoes expanding the paranormal mood somewhat. Queasier now, with guitar and voice becoming part of the binary counterpoint, there is no fear of the supernatural here, only eerie fascination. Okazaki is always very free with his articulation and seems happy to play any note just the way he pleases in the moment. Perhaps this is one aspect of his playing that sets him apart from other more conservative jazz guitarists. The interesting timbres are from his right hand not an array of pedals and jack leads. This mimics the voice's varied scat, with not a doo-bop in sight. Fractal features rare unison playing and reminds us how engaged the musicians are with Okazaki's magnum opus. Alto echoes Ghosts' shapes though now with a solid backbeat. Winds get busier with a healthy spread of polyphony, punctuated with some bell ride hits at a robust tempo. Bass disappears and leaves this weaving over drum n bass beat. Break takes us back to the Overture, but now turmoil os added and an enraged drummer explodes over Okazaki's tremulous pedal. Ascending scales start Moon, the final part of what really is an amazingly well constructed piece of music. Tunes may not be recognisable but as a concept album it is a masterpiece. The recording really ought to be conceived as a single work. The most spectacular alto playing is presented here with those shepherd-tone type voicings from Okazaki laying the foundation for wild virtuosity. This finale has the longest sustained ideas of the whole record and create a grand sense of climax. The energy is retained until the end even as long tones and a rallentando take charge.