The album comes with art work of the same high level, little cards with the Italian poetry or lyrics. Knowledge of the language may help to fully appreciate the performance, but it’s not a necessity to enjoy it.

A must for fans of the genre. Recommended to everyone else.

– Stef Geijsels

– Andrea Ferraris

Their son Levi also appears on one track playing bass. Poets Abe Maneri and Arisa White are featured reciting their original work as well as improvising words on “Side Two,” the spoken word portion of this adventurous two-sided outing. “I met them both when I was teaching at art camp here in Brooklyn,” Jones says of poets Maneri and White. “We did some live performances for the kids and afterwards we said, ‘Hey, let’s do this together.’ I really liked what they did because they’re both very musical. I worked with some other poets but none were as musical as these two. The way that they recite is affected by the music, and they’re able to interact the way a musician reacts in terms of intonation and also improvising, which isn’t always true with poets.”

Other musicians appearing on Word are saxophonist Dayna Stephens (playing primarily bass here) and drummer Lou Grassi on Side One, French horn player Mark Taylor, bassist Ken Filiano and drummer Kenny Wollesen on Side Two. Says Jones, “We did dabble with the idea of following it through and making it two different albums but I liked it all being on one CD. And to me, the two halves are not that different. They’re like two sides of the same coin and there are two separate covers – one for each side.”

Two decades after studying “The Sound of Language as Music” at the University of California, where she was linguistics major, Jessica has gone back to her roots in giving equal voice to organized sound and organized words on her ambitious Word. On Side One, Jessica primarily plays piano, accompanying her daughter Candace, whose gorgeous voice registers with confidence, crystal clarity, flawless intonation and great emotional depth on five originals and two jazz standards: Jerome Kern’s “Yesterdays” and Rogers & Hart’s “My Romance.”

The collection opens with “Everything Is,” Jessica’s relaxed, emotive ballad underscored by Grassi’s supple brushwork and given a dramatic reading by Candace. “I wrote that for her when she was around 16 or 17,” says Jones of her daughter. “The lyrics are kind of written for her personality, and she knows it. She really sings it like it was written for her.”

“Miss Kelly’s” is a jaunty swinger delivered with hip insouciance by Candace. “That piece was written for a place in Oakland at Jack London Square where musicians used to go after the jam sessions to have breakfast at two in the morning,” explains Jessica. “Some of the jazz elders would hold court there, telling stories about being on the road, and I liked hanging out with them and listening. The woman you’d pay at the front was named Miss Kelly. And the musicians called the place Miss Kelly’s, even though it was actually the Jack London Inn. So this piece was just a respectful acknowledgement of the apprenticeship that I got in those days from hanging out at Miss Kelly’s.” Jessica offers a swinging piano solo here while Tony’s smoky tenor work adds an outré charm to the track.

“The Roses“ is a bit of sophisticated, witty wordplay and rhyming reminiscent of classic Cole Porter and is delivered with verve and panache by Candace. Says Jessica, “I used to work at Carl Fischer (famous sheet music house in Manhattan). And I feel like that’s where I really learned about that culture of Tin Pan Alley. In the store they had sheet music that had been sitting there since 1930 and people were always coming in to look for it. They’d sing a few bars and somebody in the store would know the tune and we’d find the sheet music for them. It’s something that’s not really around anymore, where a song originated in a Broadway musical and then began so popular that everybody knew it and jazz musicians played it. That culture context is gone.” Tony’s ethereal tenor solo here is typically elliptical and unpredictable, artfully straddling an inside-out aesthetic reminiscent of Joe Henderson or Dewey Redman.

Candace, a talent definitely deserving of wider recognition, swings convincingly on an up-tempo romp through “Yesterdays,” which features a fine tenor solo from Young Lion Dayna Stephens. Says Jessica, “Candace likes this piece so I wrote an arrangement around it for her. And I was really glad to have Dayna on there and give him some space. They’ve known each other for the past ten years, since they were teenagers. It was more of a vehicle for them.”

Candace also turns in a jaunty performance on “My Romance,” which features her parents (who met in Berkeley High School’s jazz band) in close harmony on two tenors. Jessica’s potent, extended tenor solo here against Stephens’s walking bass and Grassi’s slick brushwork is a highlight of the track. “That arrangement is something that I wrote for a saxophone trio that I was in in California,” she explains, adding that it was dedicated to one of the members of that sax trio, Ken Durling, who passed away last year. “We adapted it for this ensemble and I like playing on it because I feel like I can play freely, even though its got changes. And I added a little loopy part so I can spin out a little bit.”

The starkly dramatic “Come Down The Hall” is Jessica’s impressionistic take on life in New York, the lyrics delivered with a chilling, understated power by daughter Candace. “This piece reminds me of a Lester Bowie song called ‘New York Is Full Of Lonely People” from an Art Ensemble album,” says Jessica. “I wasn’t thinking of that when I wrote it but I relate to that feeling of how isolated people can be, even though everybody’s bumping up against each other.” Tony’s stealth tenor solo here floats in and out of the mix like a jazzy specter hovering over the proceedings. “Tony’s sense of how to play with the vocalist is amazing,” says Jessica of her tenor sax-playing husband. “The popping in, popping out and complementing what’s around you is so much his thing. He plays saxophone like it’s a comping instrument and he does it with such imagination, all the time.”

The bridge between the two sides of Word is the freewheeling 6/8 vehicle “What Purpose Is Your Pain,” which is sung with jazzy authority by Candace and features the musicians from Side Two –drummer Kenny Wollesen, bassist Ken Filiano, French horn player Mark Taylor and the two Joneses on tenor saxes. “There’s a lot of group horn improvisation in there that I like,” says Jessica. “It’s a very improvisatory type group of people.” These same masterful musicians, so adept at collective improvisation, provide loose, highly interactive support on Jessica’s compositions beneath Arisa White’s poems “Saratoga Avenue” and “I’m Calling,” which is set to Jessica’s cyclical composition “Loose Pajamas.” As the composer explains, “That piece is tricky because of the way that the parts don’t quite fit with each other. One might be in three and one might be in four and they come together at some point. It just reminded me of something that fits but is a little loose and it still works out.”

Abe Maneri’s poem “Daddy’s Love Talk Talk” is set to Jones’s somber and probing composition “Diagnosis Henry,” which she explains was a loose interpretation of some concepts she had gotten from composer Henry Threadgill. Maneri’s other spoken word contribution, “End,” is set to Jessica’s buoyant, South African-flavored composition “Two Psalms.” The final piece, “So Misunderstanding,” is a totally free piece conjured on the spot by the open-minded collective and with both poets actively engaged in the process. “I really like the way they played off each other,” says Jessica. “It’s like she’s saying this stuff to get him involved and he sort of refers to it and then goes somewhere else. I was just stunned by the way they interacted with the words on this group improvisation.”

Nearly 50 years ago, the worlds of poetry and jazz collided with such galvanizing force that it spawned a whole movement that continues to this day. In “Poetry and Jazz: A Twentieth-Century Wedding,” author Barry Wallenstein states that “Poetry has always craved the company of music.” He goes on to explain, “Tone, rhythm and cadence, and lyricism too, are the property of both.” It seemed inevitable, then, that these two artistic expressions would merge, creating a unique genre unto itself. Beat poets like Kenneth Rexroth, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Gregory Corso first began wedding poetry to jazz in 1957 when they collaborated with an improvising quintet at the Cellar, a downstairs nightclub that used to be a Chinese restaurant and was converted into a jazz club. As San Francisco jazz critic Ralph J. Gleason wrote in the original liner notes to 1957’s Poetry Readings in the Cellar (Fantasy): “The poets read their poetry while the jazz band improvised. The results were startling and exciting. The entire album was recorded at the Cellar by Fantasy and is offered in the hope that this is a step toward a new form in jazz, a new dimension. And also that it can be a beacon to attract a larger audience for modern poetry.”

There has been a plethora of notable po’ jazz projects in recent years coming out of two different camps –jazz musicians setting existing classic text to music and poets reading their own works backed by adventurous, improvising jazz ensembles. The result of all this activity is a thriving po’ jazz scene; one that is perhaps more active now than at any time since the genre’s golden era. Recent years have seen a plethora of ambitious po’ jazz projects by such composer-bandleaders as singers Luciana Souza, Kurt Elling and Jay Clayton, pianists Fred Hersch, Brad Mehldau and Vijay Iyer, trumpeter Dave Douglas, drummer-percussionist Tom Teasley, saxophonist Andrew Rathburn, drummers Jerry Granelli and Matt Wilson, and bassist Steve Swallow. Jessica Jones’s Word is a noteworthy addition to that burgeoning list.

Brooklyn resident Jessica Jones has collaborated with such important jazz artists as Joseph Jarman, Connie Crothers, Don Cherry and Cecil Taylor. A charter member, along with her husband Tony, of Peter Apfelbaum’s Hieroglyphics Ensemble (which back trumpeter Cherry on his 1990 A&M release Multikulti), she was part of a circle of Bay Area musical renegades, including trumpeter Steven Bernstein, saxophonists Peck Allmond and Craig Handy and pianist Benny Green, who would eventually relocate to Brooklyn. Upon moving to New York, Haitian popular music became a training ground for her. She toured nationally and internationally with the band Skah-Shah, and performed and arranged music for two records by another New York-based Haitian band, the Oui Band. In her early years in New York, she furthered her jazz education by attending the Jazzmobile School and the early Steve Coleman and Five Elements workshop sessions. She also hung out at Barry Harris’ Jazz Cultural Theater and the rehearsal studio of the group Air as well as frequenting jam sessions throughout the city and attending a workshop at the Creative Music Studio in Woodstock with the Art Ensemble of Chicago.

Her Jessica Jones Quartet has been featured in the What Is Jazz? Festival at New York’s Knitting Factory and also at the Eddie Moore Jazz Festival at Yoshi’s in Oakland, in addition to performing at many Bay Area and East coast clubs, colleges and radio stations. Jessica also performs in a duet setting with her husband Tony. Word is her fourth recording as a leader and follows 2005’s Nod (New Artists Records), 2002’s Shakeup (independent release) and 1997’s Family (Nine Winds). She also performed as part of Joseph Jarman’s Lifetime Visions Orchestra on 2006’s Lifetime Visions for the Magnificent Humans.

– Lee McFadden 12/4/09

Crothers has the perfect partner in clarinetist Bill Payne, with this disc of dialogues belying a long musical relationship, as evidenced by the moment in Conversation no. 3 when Payne plays a two-note figure, immediately following which Crothers flourishes downward to land on Payne’s E-flat. In fact, counterpoint is the duo’s MO throughout. It opens Conversation 4 and is even more rigorous in the tenth conversation. Crothers’ Tristano association is made plain in the latter, but as the tenth track heats up, bluesy inflections and clusters pervade, leading to a surprisingly trilled ending from Payne. By contrast, there are the Messiaenic sonorities of Conversation 12, with Payne beginning in lower registers and with such rhythmic freedom it almost sounds like a movement left out of Quartet for the End of Time.

The duo’s rhythmic diversity is stunning. Conversation 1 finds them establishing motoric rhythms in variously shifting meters seemingly without effort. If several of the improvised pieces do, in fact, invoke the high-dynamics usually associated with Cecil Taylor, such concerns are momentary and they reflect only one facet of this duo’s remarkable ability to communicate quickly and efficiently on many levels. This is improvised music at its finest. ”

– Marc Medwin, All About Jazz / New York, November 2008

– Ed Hazell, pointofdeparture.org, Issue 18, August 2008

– Massimo Ricci, TOUCHING EXTREMES

A dramatic performer in the Phil Minton extended-vocal-tradition, of what he terms phonési, Van Schouwburg – who is also the administrator of the Belgian Inaudible Collective – attracts the aural spotlight as effortlessly as a starlet does paparazzi’ cameras. Here he unleashes a distinctive array of throat, mouth and tonsil intonation that encompasses guttural murmuring, duck-like quacks, extended nattering, Satchmo-style growls, saliva-filled expositions, Bedlam-like mumbles and vibrating warbles.

Russell responds with crossbow-like pulls on his strings, rasps beneath the guitar’s bridge and abrasive extended slides. Nevertheless, even when Demey is on hand to provide some additional rhythmic bass lines on “The Mercelis Trio”, the focus remains on the singer’s mumbles, retches and theatricalism. As examples of Ur-improvisation, the CD can’t be faulted – but it’s Van Schouwburg’s show all the way.

– Ken Waxman, JAZZword, December 5, 2007

The results of all that time are evident in the exquisite interplay of this quartet, where a solo is rarely just one musician out front, the others accompanying, but rather an intricate cat’s-cradle minuet of what they may call free improvisation but may better be described as fluidly flexible improvisation. The music here, from alto sax (Richard Tabnik) and piano-unison head lines to elastic tempos and drum (Roger Mancuso) and bass (Ratzo Harris) solos accompanied by upfront piano chords and clusters, is never bereft of strong narrative form. The form varies from piece to piece, but is always more elaborate than the standard jazz head-solos-head norm. And neither Tabnik nor Crothers, the main voices, structure solos or dialogues in the usual postbop harmonic-medodic language. They find alternatives that incorporate tradition and avant-garde, and a wide range of dynamics that make every track a sonic adventure.

— George Kanzler, Jazz Times, July/August 2007

– Felix, freiStil-MAGAZIN FÜR MUSIK Nr.14, Juli 2007

This particular quartet has worked together weekly for the past five years. You can hear the proof in the pudding as there is a special bond that links this group together. Each of the seven pieces was composed by members of the quartet and each is special in a different way. “Helen’s Tune” has an odd structure that keeps shifting in different sections as if there are a couple of subgroups at work. It is both playful and slightly bent at the same time. Tabnik reminds me of Lee Konitz at times and Jackie McLean at other times with his unpredictable solos. Connie’s has a certain elegance and sophistication that puts her in a class by itself, she sounds like no one else but herself.

Another thing that makes this quartet so special is the way they all flow together, they have the dreamlike feel that reminds me of Miles’ rhythm team for the mid-sixties with Hancock, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams. Often Connie’s solos move in unlikely ways, starting in one direction and then adding layers of lines that she plucks from another realm, similar to the way Sun Ra often pulls rabbits our of hat or space-cap. It is rare at the store that Mike lets me leave on an entire 60+ minute jazz disc that we both find inventive and interesting throughout when we are working together, but this disc meets both of our high standards.

– Bruce L. Gallanter, Downtown Music Gallery Newsletter, June 29th, 2007

Levine joins in later, staying in a limited vocal range, with phrasing that floats over Littman’s eerie chords and intervals that are played on the lower strings. “But Beautiful” is treated to a tender introduction from the guitarist and a rubato reading of the lyrics. Here, Levine takes great liberties with the melody as Littman plays interesting counter lines, the two taking time to alternate leading and following their partner in the dance, with sublime results.“Tailgate”is improvised and features the guitar repeating a rhythmic phrase that leaves space Levine to fill in with various vocal sounds. sustains long phrases that include held notes, strange effects, yodels, and scatting – all while in a heated three-minute exchange with Littman’s guitar. “Foolin’ Myself,” a shuffle, is a short sweet example of how these two complement each other so well musically. The final improvised piece, “Swipstitch”,the longest at ten and one half minutes. Littman rubs and scrapes his strings rapidly. Levine squeaks, cackles, wines, in the beginning before an abrupt halt. This moves into light interplay with the two walking on eggshells. You may find yourself giggling about one third of the way into this piece, as the sounds become truly comical.

However, this is a great example of musicians ridding the music of all pretenses favor of creative interplay and living in the moment. On the closer, “Over The Rainbow”, Levine’s lazy reading of the melody is supported hand-in-glove by Littman’s guitar. Click is a testament to approaching music with a sense of humor and fearlessness, and duo has achieved some fine results. Jazz Improv Magazine November 2006 by Joe Knipes

From piece to piece the music moves smoothly from accurate melodies to intense interaction then soft and mysterious textures that allow poet Mark Weber’s poetry to come through. Through many gestures that could be modal, harmonically static, bebop harmony, dense or open, vertical or horizontal, there is a lot more conversation going on than in many standard jazz quintets.

In “Bird’s Word,” part of Crothers’ solo is developed through two independent lines in each hand. “Carol’s Dream” presents a musical paradox: a ballad tempo and volume with a fast paced piano/sax unison. Moving from the melody into the solos the music flows in waves of changing dynamics, tempos and moods. Both Ratzo Harris (bass) and Roger Mancuso (drums) play the role of supporting rhythm section players well but go way beyond that, turning in solos that have the dynamics, form and tonal ingenuity of little 21st century symphonies. This music defies sound-bite explanations, is deeply developed and demands your worthy attention.

– “All About Jazz — New York” by Francis Lo Kee | Review in January 2006

A student of Connie Crothers, his style also has traces of the linear, knotted approach of Lennie Tristano. All told, it’s an interesting, stylistic synthesis of measure and exuburance, form and freedom, light and shade. What unites the various approaches-from the relative barrage of “Terra’s Ascension” to the fragile lyricism of “Pleiadian Soundscape” -is Leibowitz’s intensity and focus…this is a pretty rich program of music.

– Jason Bivins, Cadence Magazine June 2005

One of the principal attractions for me in performing improvised music is the telepathy, the connectivity that can occur between accomplished improvisers: the immediate call and response, the ability to find each others pitches, the simultaneity of rhythmic gestures and phrases – all while hopefully making some compelling music – is what makes improvisation work or not. In short,”chemistry”. The potential to reach that chemistry, that magic which makes all music “happen”, is for me at its greatest in improvised music, because without standard song form, everything rests on the interplay. It is music at its most naked, stripped to essentials – it either happens or it doesn’t. Whether it does here or not is for the listener to decide and enjoy and perplex over.

– Stefan Dill

The quartet includes drummer Derrek Phillips and the adventurous, articulate bassist Ken Filiano. On originals like “Manhattan” and covers like Jackie McLean’s “Little Melonae” (in a stark, aslant arrangement by Tony), this ensemble is a lean machine, with both Jessica and Tony shooting sharp, impulsive, coherent ideas. Nod’s program is varied by the addition of guests on five of the eight tracks: Connie Crothers on piano, Joseph Jarman on reeds and vocals, Mark Taylor on French horn and the Jones’ children on vocals. Jessica’s “Waynopolis” is an in-depth 11-minute “nod” to Wayne Shorter, with solos by Taylor, one of the tenors (presumably Jessica), and Filiano – all liberated, all relevant to the Shorter-esque subject matter. Crothers’ “Bird’s Word” is another loose, springy exercise, interrupted and stimulated by the composer’s jarring, clanging piano. The Jones’ worst decision was to have Joseph Jarman sing on “Happiness Is.” Their best decision was to record at Systems Two in Brooklyn, where so many good-sounding albums come from.

– Thomas Conrad, JazzTimes

— Guido Siliotto, il Tirreno, september 2004. http://www.iltirreno.quotidianiespresso.it

– Stefano I. Bianchi, Blow Up Magazine, number 76, september 2004. http://www.blowupmagazine.com

By Eugene Chadbourne | Jun 18, 2004 @ Music.com

Focal point, as always, is the slip-jawed Tom Waits-ery of Mark Weber’s lead vocals, not to mention covers of traditional slices of, yes, Americana (“Clementine” and “Yankee Doodle,” f’rinstance) which you’re surely not about to hear filling pre-newscast holes on NPR anytime during our particular lifetimes. Speaking of which, the “You Are My Sunshine” included rivals even Dennis Wilson’s “Smile” treatment of same, while “Singing The Blues” and Steve Earle’s “The Mountain” can quite possibly even be considered definitive.

Check out each band member’s solo spots as well (especially the Jimi-thru-the-spooking-glass “Goin’ Home” and, I kid you not, “Amazing Grace” gone flamenco!) Only during this disc’s concluding minutes do “The Big Offramps Of Life” and “Party Line” hint at the band’s big, cinemascopic-wide “Sgt. Bubbadino” sessions to come, but the other fifty-odd minutes provide more than their fair share of Uneasy Listening Pleasure as well. Turn it on, tune in, drop far out.

– Gary “Pig” Gold, In Music We Trust, March 2003

– Nate Dorward, Coda, May/June 2002

Bud Tristano has devoted much of his career to the rock emporium, but it is clearly evident that he has a natural gift for improvisation. He exhibits several styles of guitar playing on this very advanced duet session. Glimpses of the multiple-note spark of Sonny Sharrock emerge at one turn; the concepts of flamenco guitar majesty crop up on another; the bent-note configurations of the steel guitar are evident at times; the passion of Eastern European folk themes shines through; and even softer acoustic scenarios emerge at unexpected moments. Polytonality is ever present, as it was in his father’s piano playing. Tristano’s sound, although predominantly electrified, maintains clarity and crystalline resonance in contradiction to his rock roots. He becomes an expressive conductor of charged ions while using his articulate fingering to construct significant moments in time.

Crothers responds to these varied stimuli with deep, emotional abstractions, which take up residence on the brooding, dark side of the moon. Her exclamatory punctuation marks dot the rocky landscape. She delves into the recesses of a craggy terrain with explosively deep and ponderous retorts to the energized volts of current sparking from Tristano’s guitar. Crothers’ pensiveness is pervasive throughout the album. She casts long shadows with her probing, concentrated improvisational approach. The commingling of basic cries of life with tempered softness is befitting the recording’s title Primal Elegance. Raw energy and compassion appear to coexist simultaneously and harmoniously even though the undercurrents of tension attempt to draw one down into the foreboding eddies of this whirlpool.

The contrasting tonality of these two musicians characterizes the performance. Tristano’s playing concentrates on rapid-fire combustion using upper-register ignition, and Crothers’ pronouncements linger at subterranean levels. The sound swells to a common ground of excitement where each artist finds order in the union. This duet is a highly stimulating experience where two opposing forces meet on a battlefield and resolve the conflict with their unifying communicative skills. Although heavy in heart, this match is an uplifting example of creative improvised art.”

– Frank Rubolino, One Final Note, Spring 2002

– Michael Basinski, The Hold, March 2002

– CADENCE (The Review of Creative Improvised Music) , Vol. 27 No. 12 (December 2001)

– David Prince, SANTA FE REPORTER (December 2001) – Voted one of the top five recordings of 2001.

– Dan Warburton, Paris Transatlantic Magazine, December 2001

The band maintains the Crothers’ stance on playing popular tunes. “My Shining Hour” and “Come Rain or Come Shine” are artfully cloaked in newness to make them unusual and challenging. Direction is given by Smith and Mancuso, who have a foothold in the time zone to counteract the liberated wanderings of Crothers. They become an interesting counterpoint when supporting her solos. Crothers’ playing is far ranging and involved, while the bass and drums provide the berth for docking the ship should it ever come to port. The recording is one of contrasts pitting the searching soul of Crothers against the stability of her band. It results in a very enjoyable session where the two factions coexist and thrive. Mostly, it provides further substantiation of the inventive talent of Crothers, who can transform any tune into a personal statement of creative expression.

– Frank Rubolino, onefinalnote.com, September 2001

For the past several years Mark Weber, poet of western Okie California arrests and wine and people guitar hub-cap back porch cigarette trembling songster house painter (who are also publisher of countless tremendous books from Zerx Press – and best poet of New Mexico) has been spending tidal waves of energy on music and as a result – this is one holy result: The Band Only a Mother Could Love, which is a 25 track CD of wonderfully spun both traditional and other musics and songs by Weber and they does Clementine, Yankee Doodle, Amazing Grace, You Are My Sunshine, and etc. like if sand and glass and blood were the mucus sent in rivers by the Gods. It is easy to say you have to hear it but you have to hear it. And once you hear it you say, I gotta hear it again. And again. It grows and grows the great mountains and deserts and desserts of Alballquerkey, New MeixiGO!!

– Michael Basinski, The Hold, November 2000

Throughout the late 1980s, Deane was using drum machines in various musical settings with Jon Hassell, Butch Morris and Wayne Horvitz. Frisell was then somewhat of an underground figure in the world of jazz, though he was playing with Paul Motian, Power Tools and John Zorn, among others. All of the defining characteristics of his unique and oft-imitated guitar style were fully realized, however. Terry Rolleri – a new player to me – was working with Deane in various groups around the Bay Area. His creative use of unorthodox, or just plain weird, guitar tunings is readily apparent and provides counterpoint to Frisell’s no less otherworldly sound.

Deane’s trombone-triggered live electronics play a subordinate role to the oddly compatible twin electric guitars of Frisell and Rolleri. He even blows up a hurricane of honest-to-god acoustic trombone on “Rotocaster,” and as part of a fierce exchange with Rolleri on “Conversation.” More prominent on These Times are Deane’s drum machines. These are used to set up some very oddly stuttering grooves that may persist in various permutations for a bit before slipping into the background. Deane also likes to speed them up so that they produce humorously robotic whirrings and maniacal clickings – or slow them down so that they produce odd thumps almost at random (as on the title track). The overall effect, at times, reminds me of some of the more experimental varieties of Dub music, or perhaps a Paul Schutze Phantom City recording stripped of the bass and real drums. These Times offers quite a bit of sonic variety: there are darkly atmospheric soundscapes, bits of free jazz improvising, and some oddly humorous touches – like Frisell’s country-blues slide guitar bits on “Conversation.” An interesting recording, and one highly recommended for fans of experimental electronics, and distorted guitars (especially Frisell’s).

– Dave Wayne, JazzWeekly

– Jack Sohmer, Jazz Times, March 2000

Its twenty tracks sequentially sliced ‘n’ diced in all the right places by composer Mark Weber’s delightfully whacked li’l Uneasy Listening interludes (with Mark Weaver’s ubiquitous tuba employed more sparingly — and thus effectively — than a whole posse of Brave Combos), it’s a danger at times to pass off these here entire proceedings as nothing more than mere Zappaesque gut-bucket novelty. But one listen to the oddly luscious “Pastoral In Open D” (which scouts uncharted territories even the “Aereo Plain”-era John Hartford passed by) and especially the truly magnum “Albuquerque Nocturne” (like some cruelly cast-off “Smile” experiment, it’s no less than “Cabinessence” times Ten, I kid you not!), “We’re Really Making Music Now” certainly demonstrates there’s some, uh, serious music-making — and genre-breaking — going on within the Bubbadinos’ ranks.

Hopefully, these merry mavericks are at this moment busy stirring up their next hour’s worth of digital wonder. They should also “seriously” consider getting their marvelous work either out there on the road and/or up into the nearest Cronenberg film score as soon as is humanly possible. Okay, guys?

By Gary “Pig” Gold , In Music We Trust

Fite’s guitar work is spare, yet probing. He provides just the right underscoring for the singer’s emotional readings. In his solos, he never sounds like he’s straining to fill every measure to the max. He doesn’t play any notes that don’t count. Yet as understated as his improvisations are, they display utter confidence in his own mastery of the instrument. He fingers long melodic lines punctuated by dry stroked chords, leaving enough air to let his creations breathe. Fite deserves far more credit as a guitarist than he receives.

The pieces, though, have a surface sameness that can make the session wearying over its full length. This is an example of a date that probably would be far more effective on an LP with its two shorter, more focused sets. Regardless of the medium, though, lovers of these songs who are not afraid of a little adventure, as well as guitar aficionados, should check this out.

– David Dupont, Cadence

– Vittorio Lo Conte, AllAboutJazz Italy ( translated by Giacomo Franci )

– Frank Rubolino, “One Final Note”

– Frank Rubolino, Cadence February 2000.

– Frank Rubolino, August 1999 Cadence Magazine

– John Murph, Jazz Times, June 1999

In the meantime, the music still manages to convey a visceral punch and excitement, as Crothers’ rich melodies and fluidity of line captivate, especially when she throws in some playful dissonance for good measure. Similarly, Popkin is equally enthralling, as his phrases pick up and drop off whenever and wherever they please, but sound quite natural in the process.

– Jon C. Morgan, Coda Magazine, March/April 1999

– Barry McRae, JAZZ JOURNAL INTERNATIONAL (March 1999)

Well, that might be going a bit far. These boys — Mark Weaver (tuba), Stefan Dill (guitar, trumpet), Bubba D (lap steel, bass flute, piano, drums), Mark Weber (covals, guitar, violin, harmonica) and Ken Keppeler (violin, mandolin, banjo, accordion, harmonica) — know the chords to old songs like “Oh Bury Me Not On The Trail,” and not-so-old ones like “Fading Into The Sunset,” they do indeed mostly have nice 4/4 metrical rhythms and Weber’s voice is pure moonshine. What they do manage to do is create something very special within those parameters.

Their songs seem to struggle with a wall of reverberating, slightly dissonant violins and feedbacked weirdness, and the recognizable world of blues and cowboy songs is delicately balanced against the band’s tendency towards strange textures and noisy outbursts. Far from a what-will-they-do-next experience, however, listening to this disc has a satisfying gestalt quality which is not at all easy to achieve.

Don’t believe a word of their appeals to “front porch style” music, and certainly not “the blood songs of the American working class” (thirteen of the twenty tracks are original compositions). This is a highly electrified, very contemporary band creating an image of America which is extremely sophisticated but which isn’t to be taken for the real thing, which it rather self-evidently isn’t, and which is all the better for it. One of the most puzzling and fascinating of recent releases, this is also very enjoyable, and can even be played at parties (the sedate sort where you can get away with Tom Waits, I mean).

– Rambles Magazine

From 1979 to 1981 Henry’s solo saxophone performances concentrated on the upper register of the instrument. He then went on to other instruments, only returning to performance on the tenor with a September 1996 solo concert at Beanbenders in Berkeley. In this concert, Henry states, “This time, aesthetically speaking, I decided to make a fresh start with the instrument, drawing on all the different ways I had once played and explored, and remembering the influences of many different players who had inspired me to want to play in the first place.”

The result is a highly original and masterful approach to the tenor saxophone. This is not familiar territory. It is like a lonely walk on a distant planet. Not those comfy close-to-home planets like Mars, Jupiter, Saturn or Venus but rather ONE man walking out there digging and turning the solidified materials with a carefully polished axe. Yes, a mineral world, full of sharp edges, deep vibrations, and short cries and exclamations of discovery. That ONE man taking this lonely creative trip may interest only a few but like most truly creative work it’s not for everybody, just those who want it. For those, a wonderful music has been made available.

The second disc ONE & ONE is Henry in duo with the electronics of Don Marvel who lives secluded in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Henry plays tenor, Chinese musette, and Nepalese bamboo flute. Don plays time machine, prophet sampler, old turntable, signal processors and does the mixing. The 73 minute CD (the blue disc) is an intense package of further searches into the unknown.

In a universe where everyone is forced to consume “product” from completely known and mapped sources; where taking a trip means looking out the window of standard conveyance, eating in distant Macs, and sleeping in musical Hiltons & Holiday Inns, it’s good that one can get off the beaten track. It can be difficult too.

– Jimzeen & Wizard, OUTSIDE # 7 (February 1999)

– David Lewis, Cadence, January 1999

His approach is to explore all the sound elements possible from the tenor, ranging across the frequency bandwidth from the lowest earthy tones to the highest banshee screeches. Your spectrum analyzer will touch all the bases. Kuntz takes a thread of an idea, toys with its possibilities at various degrees of the tonal register, and then launches into a massive attack of the sound form. His blowing technique consists of lightening fast alteration of the hertz level within the note clusters. Both his tenor and your ears get a full workout.

– Frank Rubolino, CADENCE (January 1999)

And “out” this music is. The solo saxophone disc, subtitled “Circle-Cycle,” is a tour de force of sonic alchemy, produced by working breath and tongue against reed, fingers against valves. Then, with the North Carolina-based Marvel (a.k.a. Flappy), the results sound like radio static smooches and make startling dynamic leaps, from crackling whispers to white noise explosions.

– Derk Richardson, SAN FRANCISCO BAY GUARDIAN (October 28, 1998)

In September 1996 at Beanbender’s in Berkeley, I gave the first performance of solo tenor saxophone I had given in some 15 years. The response was overwhelmingly positive, encouraging me to continue working in this format.

From 1979 to 1981, I did a number of solo saxophone performances. The musical areas I was working in at that time are documented on the first two Humming Bird LPs, Cross-Eyed Priest (HB 1001) and Ancient of Days, Light of Glory (HB 1002), and by a single piece on the Humming Bird cassette, Atitlan/Luna Negra (HBT 004).

Key to my playing in this period were harmonic, sonic, and textural explorations and the dimensional use of space both for formal definition and as an implicit propulsive component in its own right. This playing was mainly rooted in the extreme upper range of the saxophone. From this position, I also attempted to put forth what I called a “new melodicism” which was based on the concept of working in this range for its own sake rather than simply using it as a place to land through emotional catharsis.

While I was happy with the results of these explorations, the physical demands of continuing to play in this way coupled with, to some extent, running out of room to maneuver at the horn’s high end forced me to put the saxophone aside for awhile. I was also finding many other possible instruments to play and explore, on each one of which a different “voice” of mine seemed to emerge. (The expressive results of playing many of these instruments, in various formats and to various ends, are documented on the different Humming Bird cassette releases and on Moss’Comes Silk, Humming Bird CD 1.)

Although I have never actually stopped playing the saxophone, I have only recently (since 1994) begun practicing it regularly again. This time, aesthetically speaking, I decided to make a fresh start with the instrument, drawing on all the different ways I had once played and explored, and remembering the influences of many different players who had inspired me to want to play in the first place.

At the same time, I have been drawing on the influences of electronic music and the particular ways it is possible to approach, create, and manipulate sound electronically. These are ways of playing which, while growing out of electronics, need not be restricted to that domain alone but may also be applied to playing traditional instruments. I include in my reference to electronics turntable artists, samplers, “noise” artists, signal processors, and those in still indefinable “categories” of sound in addition to persons engaged in so-called “pure” electronic music. Technically speaking, I have sought to bring both a sense of “tradition” (or at least of my own tradition) along with a sense of exploration (of the unknown and barely-known edges of sound) to my current playing. All of my playing, however, is based in improvisation. So the technical aspects of music-making are still only the groundwork for what is to follow — and that, of course, is always unknown. Spiritually speaking, improvisation is to me — as I have alluded to elsewhere — akin to a form of shamanic art. Clarity of mind, psychic freshness, pleasure in playing: these are the core of true creation. These are the qualities I have sought to keep constant in all of my music.

ONE & ONE (HB CD 3)

With my expanded interest in electronics, the collaboration between Don Marvel and myself was a natural.

Don is a deeply aesthetically-sensitive player who not only took the raw sonic material I provided him and uniquely re-shaped it but used it to create entirely new formal dimensions, sounds, textures, and structures that were likewise firmly rooted in the extended contours of my own playing.

Additionally, as part of the raw material of his turntable, he took the LPs I had made years ago and gave them new life, using them as formal, clipped, and distorted counterpoint to the “actual” new music — to the extent that even I am not always aware of what is the “current” playing of mine and what is not. This is not to mention the way in which he processed and mixed all of the music in the moment, creating layers of textural soundings, loops, and inter-loops, seamlessly inseparable from the original material from which they sprang.

I hope this record will serve to introduce Don’s genius to the many who I know will want to hear how he works. I am grateful to him for helping to bring all of my music full-circle and into complete contemporaneity.

– Henry Kuntz, July 1998

The two artists have created four short originals for the album. On “Lament” Casanova sings in a falsetto voice to Crothers’ piano creations for a striking effect. They attempt it again on the three parts of “Spontaneous Suite” and achieve a whole new level of originality. It is a Jeanne Lee-type approach to singing, and it’s an interesting diversion from the other tunes they perform.

Casanova and Crothers have created a moving album that weds an atypical vocal style with creative piano improvisations. It was a treat to hear.

— Frank Rubolino, Cadence, February 1998

The songs on this album are not tunes which you are likely to start singing in the shower. More likely you will be stuck contemplating what it is about these songs that is so engaging. The elements presented could easily be a standard jazz recording session, but as soon as the first notes well-up you are immediately informed that you are in for a wild ride. The strumming and linear stylings of guitarist Andy Fite combined with the driving rhythm provided by bassist Calvin Hill and drummer-extraordinaire Roger Mancuso provide the perfect background for Tabnik’s lightening-fast improvisations. Tabnik reaches into this foundation to pull interesting and tasty pieces out which he uses to shape and create his solos out of. This is especially apparent in the two takes of Tabnik’s tune “Timescapes” (cuts 6 and 7). Listen for the interplay between Fite and Tabnik as they wind through the changes.

Richard Tabnik is someone that you should definately check out. This is an artist who is not afraid to be himself.

– Jason DuMars, review saxophone.org (c)1996

The solos are the good things here. Dirke has some lovely, extended piano lines and Fite gets a laid back, gliding solo on “Body and Soul.” A pair of short voice and drum duets with Carol Tristano give a better taste of Casanova’s range and creativity. He’s best served by the last two tracks, “Jazzonia,” an original setting of a Langston Hughes poem with just bass accompaniment, and “Why Aren’t You Laughing?,” an original blues. These really show his powers, a flair for dramatic scale-climbing improvisations on the former and a silken singing voice that can tell a story like Oscar Brown Jr. on the latter. Bob Casanova is a talent. Hopefully next time he’ll do a studio album that really shows his prowess.

– Jerome Wilson, Cadence, December 1995

By Chris Kelsy, Jazz Now (on line jazz magazine, New Sounds page, Oct. 1995)

– Carl Baugher, Cadence Vol. 21, No.4, April 1995

Crothers and Popkin’s compositions are mostly vehicles for playing, with “Soul Sayer” a meandering variation on “Body and Soul.” The sound mix accentuates the high end, giving short shrift to the rhythm section of Cameron Brown and Carol Tristano, and reinforcing Crothers’ tendency to overwhelm her colleagues. It’s good to hear Brown again on bass — he’s kept too low a profile since the breakup of the Don Pullen/George Adams Quartet, where he was so effective.

– Jon Andrews, Down Beat, August 1994

– Jon Andrews, Downbeat (August 1994)

— David Dupont, Cadence (October 1993)

Gorrill’s music here has a density that just about obscures roots in song form changes, often fixing itself within the lower and middle registers where sheer resonant force eclipses specific triadic origins. The short “Chord Storm” is just that, very heavy, very deep, very thick chords, that pile up. (For immediate purposes, a chord is a combination of ten notes, an unfortunate physical limitation that can be overcome with the sustain pedal and rapid hand movement.) There is great power here, though it’s power that sometimes feels oppressive.

The final “Dream Sequence” begins with a piece entitled “Blues From A Subterranean Galaxy,” which, without a hint of Sun Ra’s leavening humour, should give a sense of what’s going on here: just imagine space converted to mass. What is remarkable, however, is what Gorrill achieves by the end of the sequence. The final “Deep Awakening,” along with numerous other moments in the performance, has such kinetic energy that it levitates not only itself but the burdens of history, particularly piano history, that Gorrill so willingly assumes elsewhere.

– Stuart Broomer, Coda, May/June 1993

Unfortunately the recording is fuzzy and the piano, especially on the unaccompanied tracks, is more out-of-tune than anything you’ve heard on disc before. (Presentation isn’t too hot either: “I Get a Kick,” elsewhere in the liner called “Just One of Those Things,” certainly quotes Porter but is an improvisation on Edgar Sampson’s “Lullaby in Rhythm,”) Peter Morris, owner of the tape and presumably the piano, calls the present issue “One of the handful of great recordings of music of all time,” but you should hear the rest of Twardzik’s legacy before broaching this.

— Brian Priestly, Wire Magazine

The song was chugging along, nice and cool, and Harry suddenly jumped out in front, singing the lyric far ahead of it corresponding chords, and varying the melody so that it still meshed beautifully with them. I’ve heard him get as far as eight bars ahead, then stretch out a phrase to an improbable length and land right back home, easy as pie. I was so intrigued by this that I began to try it myself. It was a very disorienting experience; it literally made me dizzy. If you sing or play, try this sometime, keeping a full note-by-note awareness both of where you are and where the song really is, and see if you don’t get dizzy, too. “I asked Harry how this startling departure ever occurred to him, and his reply was that he’d been listening to Charlie Parker’s “Embracable You” and that Bird’s freedom to transcend the song’s structure inspired him.

This is a beautiful example of the difference between influence and imitation: Bird never did this thing that he inspired Harry to do. Harry got a feeling from Bird and it took him to something completely original. It’s also the kind of line of influence that particularly moves and delight me: a singer, inspired by a saxophone player, comes up with a new conception with shattering implications for singers and instrumentalists alike.” — Andy Fite, Village Life 1992

One begins to overlook the horrendously out-of-tune piano on numbers such as Warming Up and Round Midnight, so engrossed is Twardzik in his struggles to make them right despite the obstacles; and when the mechanical difficulties are overcome, the results are memorable. The final eight minute I’ll Remember April is, of itself, worth the price of the CD. An ingenious harmonic sense coupled with a strong bop sensibility in the school of Lennie Tristano or Bud Powell make this a must for anyone interested in that explorative period of jazz.

– Coda Magazine, November 1, 1992

Twardzik was one of those figures in jazz who become legends or at least provocative, shadowy presences on the outer edge of the mainstream. He was only twenty-four when he died but during his 3-year pro career worked with such luminaries as Serge Chaloff, Charlie Parker, Lionel Hampton and Chet Baker — with whom he was touring Europe when he died. Known recorded output, prior to this unexpected session, was one and one-half LPs, plus a couple of sideman stints, This was enough to earn him notice as an exciting and individualistic modernist with high potential. Struggle through the technical limitations of this new release and you’ll hear that belief in that potential was justified. He was definitely at the forefront of improvisational probing in his time.

– Lois Moody, Marge Hofacre’s Jazz News

The two instrumental voices merge satisfyingly on “317 East 32nd Street” where Gorrill offers not only a bass line, but also apt commentary for the saxophonist in cleverly obscured “Out Of Nowhere” territory. Most of the structures are familiar, but they merely serve as secure foundations for daring improvisation. Dynamics are important in such intimate music, and Liz Gorrill’s variety of touch becomes an essentialingredient in ensuring that the performances move through many layers and engender subtle shifts of mood. With all its complexity, the music maintains a momenturm and inner logic that is a tribute to the participants. “How High The Moon,” that perennial jazz racer, has its character reversed by a slow, reflective treatment in which no pet licks are used to escape hatches. A most stimulating set, at its best, perhaps, when the duo swings unselfconciously and with considerable exhilaration on “My Melancholy Baby.”

– Mark Gardner, Jazz Journal (July 1991)

– Lois Moody, Ottawa Citizen (April 1991)

– John Baxter, Option (Jan./Feb. 1991)

— Jack Cooke, Wire Magazine, August 1989, chosen as #1 record of the year.

— Lois Moody, Jazz News

— Bill Shoemaker, Downbeat (September 1983)