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.

ENGLISH SPEAKING READERS: AS IS CUSTOMARY, PROCEED SCROLLING DOWN PEACEFULLY UNTIL YOU HIT THE TRANSLATION. OR MORE LIKELY, UNTIL IT HITS YOU.

Pošto znamo da nas čeka borba, danas ali i u danima koji slede, evo malo borbene muzike. James McKain, Damon Smith & Weasel Walter: No Tunes Rise From The Blood je  album uraganskog free jazza što ga sviraju neki od najboljih muzičara koji u ovom polju uopšte operišu u ovom trenutku naše povijesne zbiljnosti. On je istovremeno i neka vrsta ne baš izgubljenog, ali, da kažemo, neočekivanog komada muzike koji se iznenada pojavio i rešio stvar. Ili bar pomogao da se do rešenja dođe.

O Jamesu McKainu sam pisao toliko puta – poslednji put pre nepuna dva meseca povodom izvrsnog kvartet-albuma The Pure Products of America Go Crazy – da je sada i nepotrebno da ulazim u dubine njegove biografije. Njegova muzika, uostalom govori sama za sebe a otkada je prebrodio ličnu krizu što ga je napala pre par godina, vratio se sa novim fokusom i free jazzom koji je još furiozniji nego ranije, ali istovremeno i topliji, možda… emotivniji. Taj je povratak bio signaliziran izvanrednom trio-pločom …seeing the way the mole tunnels…. koja je izašla u leto 2025. godine i poravnala nas sa patosom svojim intenzitetom, ali i tom emotivnom dubinom, te izvanrednom tehnikom sve trojice muzičara. Pored McKaina na raznim saksofonima na albumu su svirali i Damon Smith na kontrabasu i Weasel Walter na bubnjevima, a koji je i miksovao i masterovao snimak, nudeći publici neku vrstu moderne free jazz supergrupe u izvanrednom nivou detalja i sa svim zamislivim argumentima da ova tri čoveka, koji su već decenijama u igri i imaju dosta ožiljaka da to i dokažu, ni ne pomišljaju o penzionisanju, naprotiv, da se nalaze u vrhuncima svog kreativnog kapaciteta.

O tom sam albumu pisao na ovom mestu, nudeći i linkove za prethodne tekstove u kojima sam pisao o Smithu i Walteru, partikularno o njihovoj saradnji sa Roscoeom Mitchellom, koja je i neka vrsta zvanične potvrde da se ova ritam sekcija ima videti kao legitiman naslednik najveće generacije free jazza, one koja je utemeljila avangardu kao legitimno krilo džez-muzike, i koja nije prestala da bude aktivna tokom narednih pet i više decenija i predaje štafetu u realnom vremenu dok mi slušamo otvorenih usta, zapanjeni time šta ljudski duh i ljudsko telo mogu da postignu kada se zaista potrudite.

…seeing the way the mole tunnels…. međutim nije došao ni iz čega. Ovaj album, snimljen Decembra 2024. godine došao je nakon perioda u kome su McKain i Walter uspostavili tekuću saradnju, ukrštajući svoje nemirne duhove i visokom volumenu sklone senzibilitete. U prikazu tog albuma sam doslovno napisao kako je ovo „prvo u studiju zabeleženo  svedočanstvo ove saradnje“, ali onda se ispostavilo da to nije bila istina i da su momci samo od nas krili da se već snimalo. No Tunes Rise From The Blood je, dakle, ploča koju je isti trio snimio u studiju Marmlade u Čikagu – dakle na domaćem terenu za Weasela Waltera – neka dva meseca ranije, jedanaestog Oktobra 2024. godine. Marmlade je istovremeno i studio i koncertni prostor kojim upravlja kolektiv muzičara i na JuTjubu ćete već umeti da pronađete neke zabavne snimke sesija i nastupa na tom mestu (ali, evo, pošto se danas osećam velikodušno, linka za četiri perkusionista, uključujući Weasela Waltera i Michaela Zeranga, kako zajednički improvizuju), a ovaj materijal je kao i u slučaju onog o kome smo već pričali, miksovao i masterovao Walter i dao slušaocu izbrušeni, opasno sjajni dijamant.

Razlika između ovog albuma i onog sa krticom je ta da McKain ovde svira isključivo bariton saksofon a Smith je svoj kontrabas proterao kroz pojačalo da može da se igra sa elektronikom i to sve daje ovoj sesiji ekstra dimenziju nestašluka, pa možda i agresije. Ne umem da kažem je li naslov albuma citat ili referenca na nešto što već postoji ali to da se pominje krv je već dobra indikacija da se ovde ne svira sa pola snage i da nećete kroz slušanje proći baš skroz neoštećeni.

The Curve of the Breast Wouldn’t Blind You koja album otvara, tako zaista odmah kreće bez milosti. Walter prospe rol na svom dobošu i pređe na činele, McKain vam se zaleti u lice sa svojim promuklim, prirodno distorziranim tonom a Smith zvuči kao parna lokomotiva koja izleće sa šina i krči put kroz četinarsku šumu koja posle svega neće više biti šuma nego livada. No, kao što je za ove ljude pravilo, ovo nije samo buka i urlik, i The Curve of the Breast Wouldn’t Blind You ne samo da ima lepu dinamiku, sa prirodnim krešendima i umirenjima, nego se, partikularno od McKaina tu čuje mnogo melodičnih tema. Koje, da bude jasno, ni slučajno ne prate nekakva tradicionalna pravila harmonije i njihova razrešenja, kada ih ima, više su nasilni incidenti nego nešto što biste pustili deci u muzičkoj školi da uče. No, ovo je dovoljno da Jamesova agresivna tehnika onda kada pređe u visoke registre i preduvavanje ima temelj koji ih čuva od toga da budu puki gestovi prepisani sa ploča stotina drugih saksofonista koji su u poslednjih šezdeset godina svirali free jazz. Smith ovde radi i sa gudalom a Walterova svirka je metalna mrlja činela i dugačkih rafala po kožama.

Energy Around A Point otvara Smith gotovo žovijalnom improvizacijom. Kontrabas ovde nije distorziran – dobro, nije mnogo distorziran, amplifikacija mu svakako daje bust da se čuju i prirodne, akustične distorzije – a njegova svirka je brza, sa mnogo bendovanja debelih žica i legato prolazaka kroz skale, kojima kontrapunkt čine brzo okidanje i kreiranje kratkih, kompulzivno repetitivnih fraza. McKain se ovde uključuje snažnim, vibrirajućim temama dok Walterov bubanj kao da ima napad grčeva ispod njega i kada Smith opet dohvati gudalo ovo je kao neka muzika iz pakla, ali pakla u kome se ne biste bunili da provedete par sati ili dana jer deluje kao da imaju ĐAVOLSKI dobre bendove u kafanama. Kao kompozicija odmiče, tako i McKain svira sve ubedljivije, distorzirajući zvuk bariton saksofona tako da slušalac prestane da čuje tonove i počne da se gubi u teksturama, samo da bi se vratio meditativnim, impresionističkim pasažima kako bi malo ohladio sav taj haos. Ovo je kompozicija od skoro dvanaest minuta ali na kraju deluje kao samo hvatanje zaleta za Skin Wouldn’t Glean, koja traje duže od petnaest i kreće od nečeg što deluje kao najviša tačka krešenda, sa Walterom koji udara blastbitove ispod Smithovog opsesivnog testerisanja i McKainovog saksofona koji zvuči kao da muzičar pokušava da se oslobodi iz ludačke košulje. Skin Wouldn’t Glean ima mirnije delove, ali oni su neka vrsta prenapregnutih konstrukcija u kojima svaki ton, udarac i gest zvuče kao da će probiti zid i da će unutra ponovo pokuljati haos. Ovo se, naravno i dešava, ali kraj kompozicije je ipak više serija incidenata, solo ili kolektivnih, nego zid buke. Dobro je.

The Meat Around Your Stone isto kreće energično, ali ovde McKainov saksofon zvuči skoro pa… dobro raspoloženo? Duboki tonovi i neužurbani razvoj fraza čine dobar kontrast paklenoj buci koji prave ostala dvojica pa kada i oni shvate da se saksofonisti ne žuri i podese svoj intenzitet prema njegovoj svirci, The Meat Around Your Stone se pretvara u kinetičku, brzu ali ne nužno brutalnu free jazz improvizaciju u kojoj su svi ravnopravni i svi zvuče kao deo jednog istog organizma koji ima jasan plan i program i zna kuda je krenuo.

Ovo je bila i najkraća kompozicija na albumu. Final Barn Of Language, naredna, traje preko deset minuta i nju ponovo karakteriše veoma kinetička, veoma energična međuigra ritam sekcije sa McKainovim saksofonom koji svira te strastvene, vrele fraze što praktično pozivaju na akciju a njegov debeli ton i puni zvuk na momente vas dezorijentišu i imate utisak da slušate elektronski instrument provučen kroz razne filtere. Final Barn Of Language uspeva da ne uspori tokom čitavog svog trajanja, a da opet ima finu dinamičku trajektoriju i da se završi pametno pa i duhovito.

Na kraju stiže Death’s Note Wants to Climb Over. Walter se ovde sapliće preko bubnjeva, Smith škripi gudalom preko tanjih žica a McKainove linije su i dalje snažne, naklonjene akciji, čak, ako smem da tako kažem, optimističke. Free jazz, uostalom, ima reč „free“ u imenu još od 1961. godine a šta je opojnije od slobode i šta čoveku daje veću odgovornost za svoju i sudbine svojih bližnjih, pa i celog sveta, nego sloboda? Mislite o tome, danas i narednih dana, i slušajte No Tunes Rise From The Blood:

https://jamesmckain.bandcamp.com/album/no-tunes-rise-from-the-blood

https://weaselwalter.bandcamp.com/album/no-tunes-rise-from-the-blood-2

HERE’S THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION THAT YOU’VE LEARNED TO LOVE BECAUSE THE ALTERNATIVE IS TOO SCARY TO EVEN THINK ABOUT

As we know, there’s fighting in our immediate future, so here is some battle music. James McKain, Damon Smith & Weasel Walter: No Tunes Rise From The Blood is an album of furious free jazz played by some of the best musicians working at this moment of our shared reality. At the same time, it is a kind of, well not quite lost, but let’s say, unexpected piece of music that suddenly appeared and solved the matter. Or at least helped find a solution.

I have written about James McKain so many times – the last time was less than two months ago on the occasion of the excellent quartet-album The Pure Products of America Go Crazy – that now it is unnecessary to go tunneling through the depths of his biography. After all, his music speaks for itself and since he overcame a personal crisis that all but shut him down him a few years ago, he returned with a new focus and free jazz that is even more furious than before, but at the same time warmer, perhaps… more emotional. That return was marked by the extraordinary trio record entitled …seeing the way the mole tunnels…. coming out in the summer of 2025 and, steamrolling everything in its path with its intensity, but also with that emotional investment, and the extraordinary technique of all three musicians. In addition to McKain on various saxophones, the album featured Damon Smith on double bass and Weasel Walter on drums, with Walter also mixing and mastering the material. This provided for an experience where we could hear a veritable modern free jazz supergroup in an extraordinary level of detail and demonstrated that these three men, who have been in the game for decades and have plenty of scars to prove it, are not even thinking about retirement. On the contrary, that they are at the peak of their creative capacity.

Here is what I wrote about that album, alongside the links to previous writings where I discussed Smith and Walter, in particular their collaboration with Roscoe Mitchell, a sort of official confirmation that this rhythm section can be seen as the legitimate heir of the greatest generation of free jazz, the one that established the avant-garde as a legitimate form of jazz music, and which has not stopped being active for the next five plus decades, passing the torch in real time while we listen with open mouths, amazed at what the human spirit and human body can achieve when you really try.

…seeing the way the mole tunnels…. however it didn’t come from just the primordial void. This album, recorded in December 2024, arose from a period in which McKain and Walter established an ongoing collaboration, locking their restless spirits and high-volume sensibilities into a fruitful creative relationship. Musing about that album, I literally wrote that this was “the first recorded testimony of this collaboration in the studio”, but then it turned out that it was not true and that the lad were only hiding from us what had already been recorded. No Tunes Rise From The Blood is, therefore, an album that the same trio recorded at the Marmlade studio in Chicago – that is, on Weasel Walter’s home turf – some two months prior, on October 11, 2024. Marmlade is both a studio and concert venue run by a collective of musicians and I’m sure you’ll be able to find some fun footage of sessions and performances at the venue on YouTube (but, as I’m feeling generous today, here’s a link to four percussionists, including Weasel Walter and Michael Zerang, merrily improvising together), and this material, as in the case of the one we’ve already talked about, was mixed and mastered by Walter and gives the listener a highly polished, dangerously shiny diamond.

The difference between this album and the one with the mole is that here McKain plays only baritone saxophone and Smith squeezed his double bass through an amplifier so that he could play with electronics and that all gives this session an extra dimension of mischief, and maybe even aggression. I can’t tell if the title of the album is a quote or a reference to something that already exists, but the mention of blood is already a good indication that no one’s playing at half strength here and that you may not get through the listening completely unscathed.

The Curve of the Breast Wouldn’t Blind You, which opens the album, really starts right away without foreplay. Walter spills a drum roll and crashes into cymbals, McKain head-butts your face with his hoarse, naturally distorted tone, and Smith sounds like a steam locomotive derailing and blazing a path through a pine-tree forest that will no longer be a forest but a meadow after he’s gone. But, as is the rule for these people, this is not just bloody noise and unhinged screaming, and The Curve of the Breast Wouldn’t Blind You not only has a nicely dynamic volume, with natural crescendos and calms, but you will also hear a lot of melodic themes, particularly from McKain. Which, to be clear, don’t happen to follow any traditional rules of harmony and their resolutions, when there are any, are more violent incidents than something you’d let kids in music school study for tests. But this is enough that James’s aggressive technique, when he moves into high registers and overblowing, has a foundation that keeps them from being mere gestures copied from the records of hundreds of other saxophonists who have played free jazz in the last sixty years. Smith also works with the bow here, and Walter’s playing is a metallic blur of cymbals and long, sustained machinegun bursts on skins.

Energy Around A Point opens with Smith doing an almost jovial improvisation. The double bass here is not distorted – well, not distorted much, the amplification certainly gives it a boost that bring natural, acoustic distortions to the surface – and his playing is fast, with a lot of bending of the thick strings and legato slides through the scales, that are then juxtaposed by quick picking and natural surfacing of short, compulsively repetitive phrases. McKain then comes in with powerful, pulsating themes while Walter’s drums sound like they (or he?) are having a seizure underneath. So, when Smith picks up the bow again this is like hearing music from hell itself, but a hell you wouldn’t mind spending a few hours or days in because it seems like they have DEVILISHLY good bands working the bar circuit. As the composition progresses, McKain plays more and more assuredly, distorting the sound of the baritone sax so that the listener stops hearing the tones and begins to get lose herself in the textures, only to return to meditative, impressionistic passages to cool down all the chaos. This piece is almost twelve minutes long but in the end it feels like they were merely charging for Skin Wouldn’t Glean, which exceeds fifteen and starts from what seems like the highest point of the crescendo, with Walter hitting blastbeats under Smith’s obsessive sawing-like gestures and McKain’s sax that sounds like he’s fighting his way out of a straitjacket. Skin Wouldn’t Glean has quieter parts, but they’re these unstable, tense pieces of architecture where every tone, beat, and gesture sounds like the wall is about to break and the chaos will come pouring inside. This, of course, will happen, but the end of the composition is still more a series of incidents, individual or collective, than a wall of noise. Good.

The Meat Around Your Stone also kicks off energetically, but here McKain’s saxophone sounds almost… upbeat? The deep tones and unhurried development of phrases make a good contrast to the infernal racket made by the other two, so when they also realize that the saxophonist is not exactly in a hurry and adjust their intensity according to his playing, The Meat Around Your Stone turns into a kinetic, fast but not necessarily brutal free jazz improvisation in which everyone is equal and everyone sounds like part of the same organism with twelve-step program and a clear roadmap.

This was also the shortest composition on the album. Final Barn Of Language, then, goes on for over ten minutes and is again characterized by a very kinetic, very energetic interplay of the rhythm section with McKain’s saxophone playing those passionate, boiling hot phrases that practically call for action, and his thick tone and full sound at times leave you blindsided and you hallucinate that you are hearing an electronic instrument passed through various filters. Final Barn Of Language manages not to slow down over its entire duration, but still has a fine dynamic trajectory and when it finishes it’s with smart, witty grin.

Finally, Death’s Note Wants to Climb Over arrives to bookend the album. Here, Walter trips over the drums, Smiths thinner strings moan under the bow, and McKain’s phrases are still strong, action-oriented, upbeat. Free jazz, after all, has had the word “free” in its name since 1961, and what is more intoxicating than freedom and what gives a person greater responsibility for his own destiny and the destinies of his loved ones, hell, even the whole world, than freedom? Think about it, today and in the coming days, and listen to No Tunes Rise From The Blood:

https://jamesmckain.bandcamp.com/album/no-tunes-rise-from-the-blood

https://weaselwalter.bandcamp.com/album/no-tunes-rise-from-the-blood-2