Via recently recorded live performances, the cities of Los Angeles, Oakland and New York joined femurs to kick ass in some of the most exciting jazz anywhere.
L.A.'s Cosmic Vibrations rode the rippling currents of traps and hand drums, with Derf Reklaw, Christopher Garcia and Breeze Smith writhing like one three-headed beatmaster, moving the rhythmic center from moment to moment in a swirl of intuition. Bassist Eric Revis did well to keep his riffs & comps simple & precise, while Pablo Calogero floated above on spiraling woodwinds, sometimes giving way when Reklaw switched to dreamy flute. Presiding over the Afro-Latin feast of groove and triptronic reverberations, Dwight Trible traveled to worlds even this wide-ranging singer has rarely visited. He not only wailed, but spoke in tongues, executed unearthly ghost improvisations and dropped oracular spoken verses: "The soul has been given ears to hear the things that the mind don't see." Finally, he ORDERED us to be at peace. Yes sir!
No peace without justice, of course, as Oakland organist Greg Lewis' trio rampaged through a wordless suite dedicated to black citizens slain in America's race war, such as Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner and Aiyana Jones. Perhaps considering traditional jazz organ insufficiently aggressive, Lewis stabbed and rolled his keyboard more like a mad Keith Emerson than a relaxed Jimmy Smith. Pushing Lewis every inch, drummer Jeremy Clemons bashed and slammed through hot yet tuneful and even jubilant jams, while guitarist Ron Jackson slashed tough chords and plucked jittery leads. Although Lewis' middle name was Energy, he also trod his bass pedals to raise a scary mood and could even whip up a jaunty ballad when he wanted to portray injured innocence. If this is the new prog, gimme more.
David Murray and Vijay Iyer turned out to be a match beyond highest expectations. Avant sax legend Murray put his masculine tone and corrugated vibrato at the service of ballads, boppers and sambas, with melody foremost and his trademark squeals devoted mainly to embroidery. Modern piano genius Iyer responded by orchestrating his accompaniment/improvisation like a big band, where we could hear clashing harmonies, solos and percussion all at once through his two dancing hands -- he seemed genuinely inspired by what Murray was laying down, and vice versa. Short interview segments between songs confirmed their mutual admiration: "The real history of this music is love," said Iyer. Titles or attributions of the compositions would have been useful, but the clear spirit of a certain Charles M made frequent appearances. (Murray named his son Mingus.) Murray's tenor cried its soul out on the concluding ballad, which came to an end with a perfect delicacy that could have arisen only from the hearts of both. Superb.
* * *
The IVJF is still available for viewing here. Donate to the World Stage (host of Cosmic Vibrations) here.