ENGLISH SPEAKERS PLEASE KINDLY SCROLL ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE COMMENTS SECTION FOR A PERFECTLY SERVICEABLE YET AWKWARDLY EMBARASSING TRANSLATION OF THE REVIEW
Jazz Nedeljom je zamišljen kao serija vinjeta koje će ići (možda ne?) svake Nedelje, nudeći preporuku u vidu jednog jazz albuma koji sam tog dana slušao. Ovo nema pretenziju da bude ni ultimativni prikaz neke klasične ploče niti otkrivanje nekog budućeg klasika, već zaista samo to, da se kažu reč-dve o albumu koji sam tog dana rado slušao. Ponekada će to biti stare, proverene klasične stvari, ponekada najnovije izdanje koje sam izvalio na Bandcampu, hoću reći, neće biti pravila. Kako i treba. Kako i mora.
Ove Nedelje ćemo se grejati uz free jazz. James McKain, furiozni saksofonista sa kojim smo već imali jedan urnebesan susret ranije ove godine bio je toliko ljubazan da mi pošalje novi album improvizacija i harmolodičkog free jazza a koji je snimio sa još dva saborca za malu konektikatsku etiketu firstname lastname. Ja sam se naravno oduševljeno bacio u smeru ovog zvuka, pogotovo kada sam video naslov albuma i nazive kompozicija. James Mckain, James Paul Nadien, Caleb Duval: Dancing dolazi i uz kratku ali jasnu eksplikaciju koja kaže: „glupa muzika za glupe ljude/ živela harmolodika/ posvećeno Ornetteu“ i ovo je, uglavnom sve što treba da znate o ovom albumu, mada je zapravo idealno da ga slušate bez ikakvih, čak i ovako skromnih predznanja.
Jer, u idealnom slučaju, slobodna improvizacija treba da vas uhvati nespremnog. Ako, na kraju krajeva, sami muzičari nisu imali pojma šta će svirati tokom narednih pola sata, zašto bi slušalac imao nepoštene prednosti i dolazio do plodova njihovog rada uz unapred pripremljen kontekst? Mnogo slobodne improvizacije u poslednjih šezdesetak godina, bilo u okviru akademske muzike, bilo u okviru jazza, bilo u okviru drugih formi popularn(ij)e muzike, programski je bilo utemeljeno upravo na ideji ispražnjenosti, odsustva konteksta, bekstva od sviračke tehnike ali i bilo koje postojeće teorije, usmereno da bude čista, ničim zaprljana emanacija ljudskog duha u trenutku izvođenja muzike, izdvojena od tradicije, teritorije teorije, istorije, identiteta i imenovanja bilo koje vrste.
No, naravno, čim je više od jednog muzičara počelo da radi slične stvari, kontekst se kreirao sam od sebe. I to ne jedan kontekst – pregršt konteksta. Neki su ljudi „slobodnu muziku“ stvarali temeljeći se na zen-budističkim principima slučajnosti koja je vrednija od autorske namere (notabilno John Cage), neki su svojim muzičarima davali eksplicitna uputstva da je dopušteno da iz svog instrumenta puste bilo kakav zvuk samo u momentima kada im je um potpuno ispražnjen i kada NE misle (Karlheinz Stockhausen), neki su svojim muzičarima davali instrumente koje oni prvi put vide u životu i instruirali ih da je u pitanju „vežba iz neznanja“ (Sun Ra), neki su prosto uzimali ogromnu količinu psihodeličnih droga i udarali u bubnjeve dok im ruke ne poplave (Angus MacLise).
A onda smo imali i neke koji su bili na pramcu džez-avangarde, bili poznati po napuštanju harmonije i akorda, samo da bi kasnije napravili interesantan zaokret i, uz električne instrumente i naklon fanku kreirali jedan sveobuhvatni muzički svetonazor koji je dopustio i melodiju i harmoniju i ritam, ali ni jednom od njih nije dao prednost nad drugima. „Harmolodika“, kako je Ornette Coleman krstio svoju muzičku filozofiju iz sedamdesetih godina prošlog veka je nastala spajanjem reči za harmoniju, melodiju i pokret i predstavljala varljivo nehijerarhijski pristup pravljenju muzike nameran da iz svakog muzičara izvuče njegovu suštinu a zatim tu suštinu sjedini sa suštinama drugih muzičara u jednom slobodnom ali intuitivno, prirodno koordiniranom kolektivnom muzičkom izrazu. Iako su muzičari poput Jamesa Blooda Ulmera ili Jamaaladeena Tacume poznati po tome što su formalno usvojili principe harmolodike u svom stvaralaštvu, fer je reći da je Ornetteov pristup kreiranju slobodne ali strukturirane muzike imao ogromnog uticaja na praktično sav avangardni džez (i fank) koji su došli posle njegovog albuma Dancing in Your Head iz 1977. godine.
James McKain nam je već poznat kao, rekosmo, furiozan, energičan saksofonista kod koga je u prvom redu strast a ne puka snaga i o albumu Blekingegade sam proletos napisao mnogo lepih reči. Za ovu priliku se McKain udružio sa još dvojicom muzičara da bi njih trojica u, kako sami kažu „znojavom, odvratnom magacinu u Filadelfiji“ snimili nekih 37 minuta bučne, slobodne, spektakularno drske muzike.
Bubnjeve je ovde odsvirao James Paul Nadien, perkusionista (+pijanista) i improvizator trenutno nastanjen u Bruklinu. Kaže da je trenutno dobrim delom usredsređen na sviranje solo udaraljki, ali i na saradnju sa nekoliko projekata kao što su Toadal Package, Postmodern Miniatures i Stalwart. Nadien je diplomirao perkusije na Konzervatorijumu Nova Engleska kao stipendista fonda porodice Blow a njegove dosadašnje saradnje ubrajaju i neke ugledne muzičare kao što su Anthony Coleman, William Hooker, Joe Morris, Stephen Gauci itd.
Na električnom basu imamo Caleba Duvala, improvizatora koji, sudeći po biografiji na njegovom sajtu veoma mnogo i veoma ozbiljno razmišlja o tome šta je slobodna muzika i kako ona na najbolji način može da ujedini sve različite ideje koje o muzici mogu postojati, ali i sve uticaje muzičara i ljudi koje srećete tokom života i rada. Duval kaže da iako „improvizacija trenutno ima rast popularnosti, istovemeno ima i pad autentičnosti“ i da „muzika postaje isuviše akademska i estetizovana“ te da je njegovo interesovanje kao muzičara sasvim suprotno i da želi da slobodnu muziku vrati radikalizmu iz njene prošlosti. Duval i sam svira sa projektom Stalwart i sarađuje sa gitaristom po imenu Luke Rovinsky a na ovom albumu svira električni bas.
I, pa, Dancing je svakako zvuk tri čoveka koji sviraju zajedno ali od kojih i svaki u isto vreme svira slobodno, nesputano i individualno. Nazivi kompozicija (in, your, head) su dodatno uputstvo za to kako treba slušati ovu muziku ali McKain, Duval i Nadien ni ne pokušavaju da imitiraju zvuk Ornettea Colemana, iz njegove Prime Time ili bilo koje druge faze. McKain je, na kraju krajeva tenor-saksofonista i njegov topli, masivni zvuk ne podseća mnogo na Ornetteove lake alt-melodije. Mada, da bude jasno, nekoliko puta tokom ove tri kompozicije čućete fraze koje eksplicitno asociraju na Ornettea i njegovu radosnu, rasterećenu, praktično zen-bop svirku iz bilo kog perioda njegovog rada. McKainov saksofon je često snažan, distorziran i glasan ali velikim delom njegova svirka na ovom albumu bavi se melodijom i njenim varijacijama sa nešto manjim akcentom na teksturi i ekstremnm tehnikama koje maltene po definiciji vezujemo za tenor saksofoniste u free jazzu.
No, kome je do ekstremizma, za njega je na ovoj ploči zadužen Duval. Iako ćemo čuti i nešto što bi se uz malo dobre volje moglo nazvati i električnim džezom ili fankom u njegovoj svirci, sa brzim preplitanjem po žicama i pregrštima tonova koji iz njih izleću, Duval je, reklo bi se, zainteresovan pre svega za teksturu i stohastičnu buku. Njegova bas-gitara uključena je u nepoznat broj pedala i Duval jedan veliki deo ovog albuma provodi u praktično power electronics modu, puštajući u miks zastrašujuća elektronska urlanja i distorzirane vriske.
Nadien, pak, nudi razuzdanu poliritmiju u prepoznatljivom free jazz ključu i njegova grčevita ritmička pulsiranja muzici daju jak pokretački impuls. Ovo nije „lep“ free jazz koji radi na građenju gruva i gde bi bubnjar postavljao pozadinu za ostale muzičare da preko nje soliraju, već mnogo više znojava, prljava borba u kojoj se svaki od muzičara rve sa nekim svojim demonom i pronalazi neku svoju sreću a najveća sreća je kada se njihove tri sreće susretnu i zaigraju zajedno.
Naravno, priroda ove muzike je da se to neće dešavati baš stalno, pa možda ni većinu vremena ali priroda slušanja ove muzike je upravo u tome da slušalac aktivno učestvuje u procesu i traži spone koje spontano izleću kroz svirku što je jedinstvena, neponovljiva i predstavlja polaroid tri prirode koje su se zatekle u istom prostoru u isto vreme i rešile da se poigraju. Dancing nije album plesne muzike u užem smislu, ali u širem smislu, on će sa vama rado igrati mnogo mnogo puta. Pa uživajte:
This Sunday we’ll keep it warm with free jazz. James McKain, a furious sax player with whom we already had an outrageous encounter earlier this year, was kind enough to send me a new album of improvisations and harmolodic free jazz that he recorded with two other comrades for the small Connecticut label firstname lastname. Of course, I threw myself enthusiastically towards the source this sound, especially when I saw the title of the album and the titles of individual tracks. James McKain, James Paul Nadien, Caleb Duval: Dancing also comes with a short but clear explanation that says: „stupid music for stupid people/ long live harmolodics/ dedicated to Ornette“ and that’s pretty much all you need to know about this album, although it in fact, it would be ideal if you listened to it without any prior knowledge whatsoever.
Because, ideally, free improvisation should catch you off guard. After all, if the musicians themselves had no idea what they were going to play for the next half hour, why should the listener have an unfair advantage and arrive to the show with a readymade context in tow? A lot of free improvisation in the last sixty years, either within academic music, within jazz, or within other forms of popular music, was programmatically based on the idea of emptiness, on the absence of context, on abandoning technique and existing theories, aiming to be a pure, untainted emanation of the human spirit at the moment of the performance, liberated from tradition, the territory, the theory, the history, identity and labeling of any kind.
But of course, as soon as more than one musician started doing similar things, the context birthed itself. And not just one context, nay, a bunch of contexts in fact. Some people created „free music“ based on the Zen Buddhist principles of chance proclaiming them to be more value than whatever author’s intention may have been (notably, John Cage), some gave their musicians explicit instructions that they were only allowed to make any sound with their instrument at moments when their minds were completely blank and when they were specifically NOT thinking (Karlheinz Stockhausen), some have given their musicians instruments that they would see for the first time in their lives and instructed them that it is an „exercise in ignorance“ (Sun Ra), some have simply taken a huge amount psychedelic drugs and beat the drums until their hands turned blue (Angus MacLise).
And then we had some who were at the forefront of the jazz avant-garde, were known for abandoning harmony and chords, only to later make an interesting turn and, with electric instruments and a nod to funk, create an all-encompassing musical worldview that allowed for both melody and harmony and rhythm, but without giving any of them priority over the others. „Harmolodics“, as Ornette Coleman christened his musical philosophy from the 1970s, was created by combining the words for harmony, melody and movement and represented a deceptively non-hierarchical approach to music-making, intended to extract from each musician his essence and then combine that essence with the essences of others musicians in one free but intuitively, naturally coordinated collective musical expression. Although musicians such as James Blood Ulmer or Jamaaladeen Tacuma are known for formally adopting the principles of harmolodics in their work, it is fair to say that Ornette’s approach to creating free yet structured music had a huge influence on virtually all avant-garde jazz (and funk) that came after his 1977 album Dancing in Your Head.
We already know James McKain as a furious, energetic saxophonist characterized by passion and not mere strength, and I wrote a lot of nice words about the Blackingegade album this spring. For this occasion, McKain teamed up with two other musicians to record some 37 minutes of noisy, freewheeling, spectacularly cheeky music in what they say is a „sweaty, disgusting warehouse in Philadelphia.“
The drums here were played by James Paul Nadien, a percussionist (also a pianist) and improviser currently living in Brooklyn. He says that he is currently largely focused on playing solo percussion, but also on collaboration with several projects such as Toadal Package, Postmodern Miniatures and Stalwart. Nadien graduated percussion at the New England Conservatory as a Blow family scholarship holder, and his previous collaborations include some distinguished musicians such as Anthony Coleman, William Hooker, Joe Morris, Stephen Gauci, etc.
On electric bass we have Caleb Duval, an improviser who, judging by the biography on his website, thinks a lot and very seriously about what free music is and how it can best unite all the different ideas that can exist about music, but also all the influences of all musicians and people you meet in your life. Duval says that although „improvisation, while seeing a rise in popularity, is seeing a decline in authenticity “ and that „(music) is becoming academic and aestheticized“ and that his interest as a musician is quite the opposite as he wants to return free music to the radicalism of its past. Duval himself plays with the Stalwart project and often collaborates with a guitarist named Luke Rovinsky and on this album he plays electric bass.
And, well, Dancing is definitely the sound of three people playing together, but each of them simultaneously playing freely, uninhibited and in a highly individualized manner. The track titles (in, your, head) are additional instructions for how to listen to this music, but McKain, Duval and Nadien are not even trying to imitate the sound of Ornette Coleman, from his Prime Time phase or any other phase for that matter. McKain is, after all, a tenor saxophonist, and his warm, massive sound bears little resemblance to Ornette’s light alto melodies. Although, to be clear, several times during these three compositions you will hear phrases that explicitly pay homage to Ornette and his joyful, relaxed, practically zen-bop playing from any period of his work. McKain’s saxophone is often strong, distorted and loud, but a large part of his playing on this album deals with melody and its variations with a slightly smaller emphasis on texture and extreme techniques that we usually associate with tenor saxophonists in free jazz.
But for those who are into extremism, on this album it’s Duval who is in charge. Although we will also hear something that could be called electric jazz or funk in his playing, with fast string work and heaps of tones spitting out of those strings, Duval is, one would say, interested above all in texture and stochastic noise. His bass guitar is plugged into an unknown number of pedals and Duval spends a large part of this album in practically power electronics mode, allowing terrifying electronic roars and distorted screams into the mix.
Nadien, on the other hand, offers loose polyrhythms in a recognizable free jazz mode, and his convulsive rhythmic pulsations give the music a strong driving momentum. This is not your „nice“ free jazz that works on building the groove and where the drummer would be kind enough to set the background for the other musicians so they can play solos; it’s much more a sweaty, dirty grapple fest in which each of the musicians wrestles with some of their own demons and finds some happiness of their own, with the greatest happiness being when their three happinesses collide and start dancing together.
Of course, the nature of this music is that it won’t happen all the time, maybe not even most of the time, but the nature of listening to this music is exactly that the listener actively participates in the process and looks for connections that spontaneously emerge through the performance, the performance that is unique, unrepeatable and represents a polaroid of three natures that happened to be in the same space at the same time and decided to dance. Dancing is not a dance music album in the strict sense, but in the broader sense, it will happily dance with you many, many times. So enjoy it:
[…] sa McKainom izbacili album Dancing, jedan programski omaž harmolodičkom džezu Ornettea Colemana, o kome sam pisao ovde pa se možete nešto detaljnije uputiti u njihov zajednički […]
[…] i Nadienovu biografiju smo već ispisali, više no jednom, pa skočite ovde i ovde da osvežite gradivo. Ovaj tenor saksofonista i bubnjar bi verovatno već i sami, bez ikakvih […]
[…] umešan u mnogo zanimljivih muzičkih projekata. O Jamesu sam već pisao, par puta, govoreći o njegovim saradnjama sa Jamesom McKainom, jednim od najurnebesnijih savremenih tenor saksofonista i […]