John Coxon and
Ashley Wales -- aka
Spring Heel Jack -- have been mucking about melding their
progressive electronic drum'n'bass experiments with
jazz and
improvising musicians from the United States and Europe. Two recordings,
Masses and
Amassed, were released in
Thirsty Ear's
Blue Series; a third focuses on a live presentation of their ambitious sonic inquiries, where
electronic meets organic and blurs the seams to create something entirely different. Performing with
Matthew Shipp playing an electric Fender Rhodes piano, bassist
William Parker, British sax king
Evan Parker, drummer
Han Bennink, and
Spiritualized guitarist and frontman
J. Spaceman,
Coxon and
Wales (himself a
classical composer some years ago) have seemingly done the impossible, taking what is made on the spot and treating, warping, spindling, and manipulating it into a creature that may not resemble itself, but does indeed feel like something that lives, breathes, pulses, whispers, bleats, shouts, cries, and whimpers. Something wholly other that is neither
jazz nor pure
improv nor
electronica, this attains the goal of live music itself -- as a thoroughly engaging experience for musicians and audience alike.
Quotes from great
jazz masterpieces like
"In a Silent Way" and
"Naima" are touched upon, as are forgotten
pop hits such as
"Little Green Apples," morphing from one individual's voice to another's seamlessly and without communicative strain. Dynamics occur naturally, as do changes in pace, tempo, and harmonic architecture. Given that there are two different pieces here, each over half an hour in length, this pace and focus are hard to keep, but the way
Spring Heel Jack treats its collaborators'
improvising schemes and mirrors them back, stretching them out against time and pulling them forward, allows for more space, more room for rhythm to assert itself.
Bennink and
William Parker do this with a vengeance on the extended opening to
"Part Two," going on for over eight minutes before the rest of the band comes in. It's not just a dialogue they develop between the bass, drums, and ambience, but language itself. Before they are halfway done, they begin to speak with one voice as a rhythmic solo. When the rest of the band enters, it's fast and furious before breaking down into smaller parts of singles and pairs to meet the language previously created and engage it in dialogue, even while quoting from earlier sources --
"A Love Supreme" is one, a
boogie-woogie version of
"Harlem Nocturne" is another, while
"Lennie's Pennies" is still another. This is fascinating stuff to say the least, and devastatingly original at its best. Highly recommended. ~ Thom Jurek