By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
By Steve Weinstein
By Araceli Cruz
Harmony and Abyss
Shipp's early records were minimal affairs, often duos where he would project long melodic lines like Bud Powell swept into the avant '90s. Until he hooked up with Thirsty Ear he never showed much interest in rhythm, but working for a rock label brought out his inner David Bowie as he veiled his increasingly percussive play behind horn leads. This one is the breakthrough he advertised on Nu Bop and promoted on Equilibrium, because finally the masks are gone: no horns, no vibes, just a piano trio plus programmer Chris Flam. Shipp's piano (or synth) is always up-front, the pieces are all differentiated by rhythm, and the rhythms are as diverse as Shipp's melodic lines once were. A
Pullen had a gimmick: he would turn his hands over and smash out huge clusters of notes with his knuckles. It was an astonishing sound, and he could produce it long enough to take your breath away. But it was less a gimmick than the ultimate example of his unprecedentedly physical attack on the piano. He built up harmonies with explosions of dissonant color and rhythmic complexity, as fast as Art Tatum with his curlicues. But he died in 1995, at 51 neither a shooting star nor a living legend, and his records have vanishedespecially the eight he cut for Blue Note from 1986 until his death. This limited edition squeezes the first four onto three CDs. The first two are quartet albums with r&b-flavored saxophonist George Adams. Both are rousing, especially the first. The next two were trios, where the focus is even more squarely on his piano. He was also the most interesting organist to emerge since Larry Young, and his later Ode to Life is poignant and moving. But this was the pinnacle of his pianistic power. A
The Lebanese oud master's albums shift as jazz collaborators come and go. Tarab features Selim Kusur's nay flute and is in the improvisational tradition of Arab music, while Charlie Mariano's alto sax turns Blue Camel into his most cosmopolitan showcase. This mostly Italian band showcases a new mix: with accordion, tuba, and clarinet it sounds gypsy (meaning a genre, not the ethnic Rom), while Gavino Murgia's traditional Sardinian vocal style can be taken for doo-wop. A MINUS
The achievement here is sonic as well as musical. Holland's bass line has rarely been rendered so clearly. It is the center of the universe, the pulse all heavenly bodies orbit aroundeven the Detroit horn players who crash the trio on the last cut, a serenade for Mal Waldron. A MINUS
What if the Jews who scored '40s Hollywood movies and the Jews who chilled West Coast jazz in the '50s had reached deeper into their ethnic legacy? That's the concept here: traditional pieces played soundtrack-style not as social music but for atmospheric effect. Special treat: X drummer D.J. Bonebrake on vibes. A MINUS
Souls Saved Hear
Tom Rainey's perpetually broken time gives this trio a lurching stutter step that Tim Berne's abstract sax only renders more cartoonish. Marc Ducret's guitar provides the sinew that keeps the works from flying apart, and fills in stretches of relative calm when his cohorts take a breather. Berne's albums always hew close to the edge. It's a pleasure to hear one that doesn't crash. A MINUS
CHICAGO UNDERGROUND TRIO
The first cut is acoustic, with Rob Mazurek's cornet racing over a fast beat. The second is electronic, a fractured beat with the cornet providing a bare wash of color. The rest work between those poles, with the electronics more prevalent, but the real kick coming from the cornet soaring over Chad Taylor's drums. Synthesis isn't the point; why be "underground" if not to experiment? A MINUS
DENIS COLIN TRIO
Something in Common
An update, not a throwback to the black power jazz of the early '70s. The trio is French; the instruments are bass clarinet, cello, and zarb; the lead song is Wyclef Jean's "Diallo." But black power is the spirit. Most songs have vocals: rappers, soul sisters, gospel group. They play Hendrix ugly, Stevie Wonder sweet and sour; they channel Coltrane, Rollins, Shepp, John Gilmore; they go Pan-African to Beaver Harris. If the years haven't blunted anger at injustice, that's because they haven't blunted injustice. A MINUS
SATOKO FUJII QUARTET
Her crashing entrance shows why she gets compared to Cecil Taylor. Then she backs off and lets the band do some work. Propelled by Takeharu Hayakawa's electric bass, the rhythm section was built for speed. But husband and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura prefers to wax lyrical even when surrounded by chaoswhich gives this music a touching voice on top of the finely drawn manga violence of Fujii's piano. A MINUS
Jerry Gonzalez y los Piratas del Flamenco
In the flamenco that Gonzalez encountered when he moved from New York to Madrid he found a third ingredient to add to his fusion of rumba and Monk. The old world is evident in Nino Josele's guitar and Diego El Cigala's vocals, but the beats sound Afro-Cuban. This record came from a rehearsal tape, with most tracks limited to two or three musicians. One is just conga and cajon; others muted trumpet, guitar, and percussion. And, of course, Monk goes flamenco, with hand claps. A MINUS
The title translates as "stroll": a leisurely walk through pleasant surroundings, but with a contemplative distance. For Rubalcaba this means back in time to his Cuban roots, and sideways through the maze of modern jazz. With his New Cuban Quartet the dominant voice is saxophonist Luis Felipe Lamoglia, who owes more to Coltrane than to the Caribbean. But the pace and variety come from the rugged Afro-Cuban terrain that keeps the stroll interesting. A MINUS
Baila! Gitano Baila!
Roberto Juan Rodriguez learned klezmer as a Cuban expatriate in Miami, working bar mitzvahs and Yiddish theaters. His synthesis of Jewish melody and Cuban percussion dreams of roots that never were, yet it is convincing enough that one can imagine generations of conversos gathering in private to keep the ancient secrets of their culture alive. This sequel to El Danzon de Moises is less surprising but broader and happier, with touches of tango and gypsy dance. A MINUS
The delta from Spaceways Inc. to Tripleplay is the replacement of Hamid Drake with Curt Newton, but switching bassist Nate McBride from electric to acoustic shifts the feel from funk to blues. Both moves make the band more intimate, and Ken Vandermark responds with some of his most thoughtful chamber jazz. Even if it was made up on the fly, which it largely was. A MINUS
The difference between this and 2Gether, the duo Vaché and Bill Charlap cut for Nagel Heyer in 2000, is the difference between a fine Danish modernist antique and an overstuffed easy chair. With bass and drums, Charlap eases back, and Vaché settles into his comfort zone. Now that he's too old to be called a young fogey anymore, maybe the notion that his genteel swing is retro should also be retired. A MINUS
Additional Consumer News
Free jazz as postmodern cool, an ether of saxes, bass, cello, beats, and voice where all that is solid melts into air.
Live at Glenn Miller Café
Jon Lindblom's punk-jazz guitar, with horns piled on because they're loud.
A real-time mix of guitar noise and Mats's bull elephant contrabass sax, with Kim Gordon confessing her lack of fashion sense.
PAAL NILSSEN-LOVE/KEN VANDERMARK
Dual Pleasure 2
Leftovers from last year's Dual Pleasureabstract clarinet, avant-honk, drums.
Mats Gustafsson's heavier metal power trio undoes your new wave faves, then plays Brötzmann to relax.
In Praise of Dreams
Sax with strings, only Garbarek's such an ascetic he allows himself just one viola and a dash of percussion.
Less a throwback to the organ-guitar soul jazz of the '60s than an update, ready to cross over but not to beg.
SATOKO FUJII TRIO
THE GREAT JAZZ TRIO
Someday My Prince Will Come
Last chance to hear something new from Elvin Jones.
STEVE SWALLOW/OHAD TALMOR SEXTET
L'Histoire du Clochard: The Bum's Tale
In the Name of Love
Dud of the Month
CHICK COREA ELEKTRIC BAND
To the Stars
The problem with fusion wasn't that good jazz was cheapened by crass rock and roll. The problem was that so many fusioneers were suckers for bad rock. Here Corea reconvenes his 1986-93 Elektric Band to power through a suite of pieces based on the L. Ron Hubbard sci-fi novel, and you can guess the rest: vintage space opera that Pink Floyd or Hawkwind wouldn't have played on acid, soundtrack melodramatics without visual cues, and a fresh coat of Jelly Roll's Famous Latin Tinge. C