Untitled Compositions

“As it becomes with the passing of Labor Day, my morning commute was met with the frustrating meander of school buses coupled with the premature chill of autumn sunrises. A more modern indication of the changing seasons finds my social networking existence inundated with references to the eponymous record “Dear Summer” by artist Jay-Z.

“Dear summer, I know you gon’ miss
For we been together like Nike Airs and crisp tees…”

Conjuring up feelings befitting the passage of time, this has been a stalwart piece of musical imagery when bidding adieu to the summer madness. On this morning, however, I’ve felt the need to dig into the metaphorical crates of my iTunes library and pull out the reference track to this Just Blaze-produced classic…”

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For The Roy Ayers Project

“There is an alternate universe in which Michael Jackson is the King of Jazz. This is something of which I am quite sure. In this world, Marvin Gaye went on to produce several groundbreaking jazz albums after his critically acclaimed 1965 release A Tribute to the Great Nat King Cole. In this world, Jill Scott is widely known as our generation’s Etta James heralded for her interpretation of “All I Could Do Was Cry.” And in this world, Robert Glasper has already won his 3rd Grammy for Album of the Year. And, as I said before, in this world, Michael is king.

While I jest, the greater joke is that this commentary is rooted in a substantial reality; because Michael Jackson could have been the King of Jazz. It’s a funny afterthought to a career that was largely defined by sequin-covered military jackets and mind-blowing theatrics. His legacy would seem to be that of a man completely contradicting any moniker relating to jazz, but this, like so many other things, is only perception. Finding the reality of it all requires one to step beyond the manufactured smoke and blinding glare of stage lights. The truth is much more interesting.

What many forget is that Michael and the world of jazz did meet, if for only one night. They were introduced by Stevie Wonder and their brief encounter was recorded in song…”

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For The Roy Ayers Project

“Warren Wolf is considered to be highly proficient in several of music’s instruments. His degree from Berklee would, without a doubt, substantiate this claim. What I find most fascinating about Wolf, however, will most likely never reach the pages of his ever-growing résumé, at least not explicitly. This is something a bit more abstract. What most draws me to Wolf’s already infectious sound is that he is playing bebop in a modern setting. Naturally, this has peaked my curiosity. But, what sold me on his dynamic repertoire boils down to how he does it.

With minor exceptions, much of Wolf’s most recent album would fall into the category of bebop. Overall, it sustains much of the rhythmic velocity and technical acuity found in one of jazz most popular subgenres. But, it’s not the 1940s. This makes some believe that bebop is an antiquated transport for jazz, giving way to the onslaught of unforgivably tacky smooth jazz albums and hit-or-miss displays of hip-hop and jazz fusion. And I’m not saying that Wolf is outdated. In reality, his music is more refreshing than ever, an interest thought considering what he’s attempting to do. So, I have to tip my hat to Wolf on this one. At times, his approach is more Roy Ayers than Lionel Hampton, but I think that is why it works so well.

Wolf’s most significant work takes place along the aluminum bars of his vibraphone. Stylistically, he parlays his talents into a flexibility that fits each song. At times, he plays with a terseness used to enhance and not overwhelm the melody, as seen on “427 Mass Ave” and “Sweet Bread.” When given the opportunity to cut loose, however, Wolf does so tenfold. On “Eva,” we can hear the artist taking his solo journey with ease as he cuts through the bebop sensibilities of the record with flawless execution. Through it all, there is a certain vivacity with which Wolf plays. This point being what led to my reference of Ayers. There is an obvious understanding, amongst both artist and audience, that this is essentially jazz music but, there is a disconnect, in that the artist is decisively building a distinctive musical identity outside of the traditional realm. Wolf disregards the stoicism of older idioms to recreate something post-bebop, and yet, rooted in that very same tradition….”

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For The Revivalist

When people ask me to name my favorite albums, I intentionally disregard Kind of Blue. It has nothing to do with the music, itself. In fact, this 1959 from jazz icon, Miles Davis is one of the few albums I would consider “flawless.” But, at this point, referencing Kind of Blue is simply cliché. It’s like saying that your favorite basketball player is Michael Jordan. Even people who don’t listen to jazz have been known to spontaneously burst into flames while discussing the genius encapsulated in this fifty-five minute display excellence. Kind of Blue has transcended sound and taken on a much greater role outside of itself, relative to Bob Marley’s elevation from reggae frontman to a figure adorning seemingly every college dormitory in America. There is jazz, jazz artists, jazz albums, and then there is Kind of Blue.

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For The Roy Ayers Project

“I’ve always had a certain weakness for jazz guitar. It began with an early introduction to the influential sounds of George Benson and Joe Pass. I loved the way every single note was articulated with such flawless diction. It gave credence to the idea that music is a language within itself. Each stroke was distinguishable from the next. To me, it was technical precision at its finest. But what made me appreciate it above all, were the feelings it could induce from its audience. There is certain warmth that can pour out of a guitar when playing jazz. Not to layer this in saccharine overtones, but a well-played chord progression has the ability to invoke something gleefully enchanting. This description may be a tad hyperbolic, but only slightly. Needless to say, in this instance, the elicitation of sentiment was my barometer of assessment when listening to the art of Gilad Hekselman.

Hekselman has been honing his craft, right below the surface, for quite some time, making his mark on the scene through various avenues. While his name may not elicit the same sort of jaw-dropping reaction of some of his colleagues, I, could not help but hold him to the same standard of critique upon finding his work being compared to that of the talented Pat Metheny and Kurt Rosenwinkel. With lofty expectations, I began to listen to his most recent effort, Hearts Wide Open. Instantly, there is a recognizable vibe that is both calming and lighthearted as the album is built around a collection of catchy melodies and incredible moments of improvisation.

After an upbeat, acoustic opening titled “Prologue,” the album jumps into the spirited, “Hazelnut Eyes.” Structurally, the song is molded in a succinct manner allowing for Hekselman to carry much of the heavy lifting. Because of this, we are allowed to engage directly with the master of ceremonies. He does not disappoint. His playing is incredibly sharp considering the energy he displays throughout. Immediately, the standard is set…”

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For The Revivalist

“Situated on most every artist’s path lies a point in which they will address one of the enduring masterworks of yesteryears – the eponymous “standard.” Taken from the pop or jazz world, these songs have been heralded for their compositional brilliance and expansive popularity. Deep within this illustrious canon sits Eden Ahbez’s 1947 masterpiece “Nature Boy.” Telling the fantastical tale of an enigmatic youth, the song is constructed through a lush orchestral arrangement enhancing the ethereal feel of the song’s lyricism. Amongst the countless versions of this song, Nat King Cole’s 1948 rendition stands out amongst the crowd. Recently, however I was made privy to a new conceptualization of this timeless classic.

Ahmed Sirour is a Brooklyn-based musician and composer, who first caught my attention with his remix of the Roots and John Legend record, “Shine” off of their collaborative effort Wake Up!. The song carries the soulful inclinations of a gospel record and succeeds in evoking that same sort of overwhelming emotional reaction found in many a Sunday morning church services. Sirour transformed this song into a symphonic masterpiece, arousing the same triumphant response of the latter. His instrumentation was obviously advanced, but his abilities as an arranger were simply incomprehensible. I had to hear more. Digging deeper, I found the aptly-titled, The After 2AM Sessions, his most recent project whose intoxicating melodies seem predestined for late night excursions in the midnight hours. Simply put, the album is a musical aphrodisiac. But, what most captured my attention, in fact, stood outside of its sensuality counterparts. I was intrigued by the aforementioned take on the jazz standard, “Nature Boy.”

Beginning with a rich piano solo, the song is immediately understood as a divergent take from the song’s usual trajectory. Based upon this format, the song takes a minimalist approach with grandiose results. Handling the role of vocalist, Cleveland Jones breathes new life into a song known for the charming cool of Cole’s iconic baritone. Instead, Jones emotes with a performance that can be easily described as vocal gymnastics. With every note, Jones takes the song’s to a new level. Complementing each other, the two performers create an outstanding modernization of an ageless beauty. While some believe that jazz has outlived its own relevancy, I simply look at Ahmed Sirour and pay respect to the offspring of its enduring lineage…”

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For The Roy Ayers Project

“There are many sides to the twenty-seven year old pianist Gerald Clayton. It was roughly seven years ago, when we first met under the most inconspicuous of circumstances. The venue was a modestly-sized living space on a college campus in Philadelphia. I, as eager spectator, and he, as accompanying performer, took our respective places for this comfortable listening session. As he contributed to one of R&B’s most overlooked artists, I failed to recognize his complimentary genius. The introduction of myself and Gerald Clayton took place on the opening track of Teedra Moses’ Complex Simplicity. But that introduction would not be are last soiree. Most recently, I had the opportunity to share another moment with the artist whose lineage stretches back beyond his own years. Stepping away from his earlier persona as an R&B melody maker, Clayton took his seat upon the pianist’s bench to lend his talents to one of my favorite releases of the year, Ambrose Akinmusire’sWhen The Heart Reemerges Glistening. Today, I sit again with my old friend as he embarks on another avenue of musical expression.

Bond: The Paris Sessions can be aptly described as a mixture of everything necessary to create the perfect jazz album. In one instance, Clayton is reawakening the collective memory banks of his audience using timeless standards from the canon of jazz with results so rich in vitality that they would seem as if imagined only yesterday. And in the very next moment, he chooses to present his own compositions, whose sophistication far outreaches his own short-lived existence in the world of music. But where Clayton truly excels is in his impeccable virtuosity. In many ways, technical brilliance is an intangible concept. Attempting to concretize something as abstract as art is considerably an exercise in futility. So when truly attempting to understand the giftedness of Clayton and most importantly his music, we can only go on how it makes us feel. And if nothing else, this project is full of emotion.

The album begins with the Frank Loesser classic, “If I Were A Bell.” From Miles Davis to Amel Larrieux, this song has been recorded by countless individuals and yet, Clayton’s interpretation leaves an indelible mark amongst the rest. Fitted in absolute reticence, the song begins as a solitary display of Clayton, whose bell-like posturing is befitting of the song’s namesake. Within this simplicity, a subdued temperament takes shape thematically. As the song moves forward, however, a semblance of the song’s traditionally light tone begins to be explored. But even in doing so, the ensemble maintains that same initial reservation, providing the song with a newfound anxiousness. There is no denying Clayton’s reverence of traditional jazz archetypes. And yet, this cover exemplifies the very real understanding that he refuses to be a slave to them…”

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For The Revivalist

“Music is the native tongue of humanity. It is a language that we all speak. As a vernacular of sorts, music is one of the most enticing, yet overlooked vehicles for the art of storytelling. Through methods of form and function, this particular medium can tacitly chronicle a tale with the profundity of a thousand writers. New York-Addis-London does just that. A history lesson set to jazzy melodies and African rhythms, this compilation traces the contours of a musical movement that can never be replaced. Through the lens of Mulatu Astatke, the audience is given an introduction to the distinct sounds which encapsulated a force so monumental that it could only be stopped by political upheaval. Despite having an initial run of ten years, Ethio-jazz left its mark on not only the rich African musical tradition, but that of the entire world. This is the story of how it all began.

The story begins like any other. Through the melodious orchestra of horns and steady pacing, “Yèkèrmo Sèw,” introduces the opening scenes of this narrative with a comfortable still. Naturally, the audience is gradually familiarized with the setting. This, however, is nothing more than a façade. Underneath this graceful composure lies the ominous wailing of a guitar. It is not overwhelming, but most certainly lets its presence be known. This is the calm before the storm.

As the action progresses, we watch American influence of funk sensibilities make its way to Ethiopia on “Mulatu.” Using a mixture of combating horn instruments and a dash of the vibraphone, this song sits comfortably amongst the American musical aesthetics of the 60s and 70s. On this track, Astatke manages to borrow the technical features of funk and reclaim it for an Ethiopian audience. The story moves forward…” 

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For The Revivalist

“As an innovator, Mulatu Astatke is far removed from simplicity. Fathering the Ethio-jazz movement, the well-traveled African artisan fused jazz and latin music with the traditional sounds of his native Ethiopia. Needless to say, Astatke is no stranger to hybridity. However, I would argue that this was his most compelling collaboration to date. He wasn’t working with Duke Ellington nor Mahmoud Ahmed, all of which he has done in the past and with great results. Instead, he chose to stand alongside a band known for its inability to be properly placed. Coming from the eclectically rich independent label, Stones Throw Records, The Heliocentrics have taken their identity to the outskirts of seemingly every conceivable boundary. With unimaginable dexterity, the Heliocentrics shifted their technical guile to yet another sound; those emanating out of East Africa.

The resulting musical clash led to the third installment of Strut Records’ amalgamation series, Inspiration Information. Recorded in East London, the album features sounds reminiscent of the older Astatke flair, all the while maintaining a distinct peculiarity due largely in part to the experimental nature of the Heliocentrics. For this adventure, Astatke and the Heliocentrics equally shared compositional duties, providing the album with its unique juxtaposition of sounds – traditional and avant-garde. For many artists, this would be a complicated endeavor. In this instance, however, a mutual respect occasioned an end product of wide-reaching artistry.

Inconspicuously, the album is introduced with a lone pianist. But, with greater assurance, “Masengo” begins to build. It starts with a synthetic screech, which atop the pianist’s melody induces haunting overtures. And as this settles into place, we are presented with the addition of a guitarist, whose introduction is as quick as its exit. Almost instantaneously, the song makes a complete shift into an ethnic array of singing and drumming. But again, we are lulled into a level of comfort only to see the reemergence of the guitarist as he plays aggressively atop those same drums. With lightening quickness, we again hear the screeches, and eventually the reasserted dominance of that earlier pianist. With the addition of both a tambourine player and a string section, we are privy to a symphony of conflicting sound culminating in an aggregate sort of genius. This is only track 1…”

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For The Revivalist

“In modern society, cultural diffusion is at the crux of personal development. As the world grows smaller, its people and their concepts become that much more intertwined. The growth of artist Abdullah Ibrahim speaks volumes to this anthropological phenomenon. What I believe to be considerably different about Ibrahim, however, is that he, unlike many, has managed to maintain a certain sense of self, whilst being introduced to an onslaught of external forces. His sound, influenced by many of the American greats, has always preserved a semblance of his roots – Cape Town, South Africa.

In the beginning, he was Adolph “Dollar” Band, the young jazz enthusiast who earned his nickname by procuring records from visiting American sailors. Even in his formative years, he had a connection to the distance land of North America. Helming the piano on the influential South African ensemble, the Jazz Epistles, the bebop motif explored by the group evoked an undeniable Western influenced sound. Drawing from the stylistic tendencies of a Thelonious Monk, Brand crafted a melodic delivery tied together with technical brilliance. Upon leaving South Africa, with his wife, famed vocalist Sathima Bea Benjamin, Brand was introduced to the great Duke Ellington. Admiring his abilities, Ellington offered Brand the opportunity to record with him resulting in a 1963 release on the American music label, Reprise Records. While his sound during this era reflected the American jazz artistry of the time, Brand never shied away from his origins. With titles such as Anatomy of a South African Village and African Piano, it was very much understood that Brand was indeed proud of his heritage.

A change was on the horizon, however, that would drastically redirect the trajectory of his entire life. In the mid-1970s, Brand like many other artists of the time converted to Islam. From thereon, Brand was officially known as Abdullah Ibrahim, actualizing a momentous juncture in his evolution. Following this path, his sound and its subsequent politics began to develop, as well. Where I’ve found Ibrahim to be most effective, are in those moments during which he sits alone, a concept defining much of this era in his career. Both pensive and demonstrative, his work seems to find its greatest clarity, when it is just him and his piano. As Abdullah Ibrahim, he has an extensive repertoire of sounds that seem to be American in style, and yet through the subject matter laid out, presents a subtle homage to his native land. With a languorous drawl, he manages to carefully reflect on the temperamental nature of South African politics. Often void of lyrical content, Ibrahim was able to encapsulate the contrasting aesthetic grandeur of Cape Town to the sordid reality of apartheid…”

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For The Revivalist