
I still remember purchasing Kenny Wheeler’s Angel Song album as a young musician. Up until then I was mostly familiar with the more standard works of the jazz cannon, and hadn’t really ventured much past the 60s. My record collection mostly contained records on Columbia or Atlantic, so the cardboard packaging and dark, mysterious artwork so signature to ECM were intriguing. It was also more expensive than purchasing used classics at the place down the street.
But someone had told me of the virtues of Kenny Wheeler’s music and I was also only vaguely aware of guitarist Bill Frisell. This was also (with the exception of Birth of the Cool) my introduction to the music of Lee Konitz, who would also soon become one of my heroes. I had no idea what sounds would be contained within, but I guess I was feeling adventurous that day.
When I got home I was not disappointed. I still remember my fascination with the opening guitar chords which state the first melody. Sonically, the record seemed in a whole other world from what I knew. The music seemed to float along gently at its own pace without drums, and I didn’t miss them at all since most of my early experiences playing jazz music were in drummer-less duos anyway (I simply couldn’t find anyone to play with).
Little of the music on the record swings in the traditional sense. Indeed, it contains some of the best rubato playing I have ever heard. The line between time playing and rubato playing is also continually blurred. After a brief introduction from the guitar, the first half of Nicolette is played out of time by the trio of Wheeler, Frisell and Holland before stepping into a tentative waltz as Konitz takes the second half of the melody. I remember being shocked when asking a local professional drummer who admired Wheeler’s music about the album. He didn’t know it, no doubt because of the absence of drums. This seemed like heresy at the time but I can understand it now.
One of the truly great things about Kenny Wheeler’s music is his economic use of compositional materials. The music on Angel Song can be seen as one long suite, and harmonic and melodic material is carried over throughout.
The best example of this is the composition Kind Folk, a 32 bar piece in 9/8 time featuring a simple ostinato played throughout by Dave Holland. The first half of the composition is simply repeated up a minor third with a slight reharmonization. Because of this, a coherence is obtained that I feel is often missing from much modern jazz composition.
Despite the strength of the compositions, the musicians get plenty of say. It is worth noting that even though every composition on the record is extremely strong and bears the stamp “this music could only be written by Kenny Wheeler”, the individuality of the sidemen is consistently just as striking. This combination of strength plus flexibility is a big reason why this music is so successful, and no doubt the reason that Wheeler can employ musicians as diverse as Michael Brecker, Evan Parker, Stan Sulzmann and Jan Garbarek to name only four horns players who have worked with the trumpeter-composer.
One of the great mysteries of this record occurs on Unti, which I suspected was originally untitled. The tune begins with a Frisellian vamp in Gm before moving into a more complex composition that alternates between 4/4 and 3/4 time. For Wheeler’s solo, this fairly oblique structure is repeated, but when Konitz steps up to blow all that is used is a vamp alternating between Gm and Ebmaj7. No other version of this tune does such a thing and I even had the opportunity to ask Mr. Konitz about the session and the reason for the vamp. An absurd question, no doubt, and I got no answer. The solo is almost unrelentingly melodic in Konitz’s “truly improvised” style; a casual listen wouldn’t tell you anything has changed, and the form returns for the guitar solo. This moment remains one of the highlights of the record.
Consider too the diversity of improvisational approaches and backgrounds that comes together on the record. Where else could Lee Konitz’s dedication to Lennie Tristano’s ideal of true improvisation sit so comfortable next to Frisell’s unmistakable blend of Monk and Americana and still sound unquestionably like “Kenny Wheeler Music”?
But then again, it is not too much of a stretch to think of Lee Konitz applying his ten step method to a Kenny Wheeler tune. The melodies are just that strong.
Newcomers to this album might also miss just what a competent instrumentalist and improviser Kenny Wheeler is. His tone on the flugelhorn is full and distinctive. He regularly employs held long tones which alternate with quick flurries in odd groupings, and from time to time he will soar into the instruments stratosphere with ease while never compromising his extremely round, singing tone.
Has anyone seriously considered Wheeler as a trumpeter? He is undoubtedly a “true improviser”. Just listen to his extended dialogue with Konitz on Onmo, the closest thing to a blowing tune on the record. There is also an immediacy to his playing that is hard to fake. You can regularly hear him thinking about what to play next, and he is not afraid to take risks and let it all hang out. His playing is also flexible enough to fit almost any situation, from a big band down to solo playing and duos. I recently heard a trumpet trio of Leo Smith, Lester Bowie and Kenny Wheeler that was killing. He seemed right at home.
Ostinatos are also an integral part of Kenny Wheeler’s music, so it makes sense that almost every Kenny Wheeler record worth considering features Dave Holland, one of the best ostinato players ever. Here he handles his role with extreme grace, giving the music momentum and melodic counterpoint at all times. It seems as if this is the type of bass playing that Lennie Tristano’s music could always have benefited from, as Holland is not afraid to add rhythmic and melodic commentary to the soloist.
This concept really soars in the absence of drums. It is hard to imagine this record with Jack DeJohnette thrown in. I don’t know if the music would suffer, per se, but the sonic freedom is clearly welcome by these four, and the dialogue is really something. As a result, this is also the only ECM record I can think of where the reverb doesn’t seem to get in the way. A great record well worth careful study.
1 comments:
I found your post through Ethan Iverson's blog contest on "Do the Math". Great entry; that album definitely had a similar effect on me when I first heard it several years ago. Like so many other records that have that kind of immediate impact, I had two initial reactions: "why aren't there more musicians making music like this?" and "why the hell didn't anybody tell me about Kenny Wheeler before?!" Both of these are of course incredibly naive, as I soon found out for myself after talking to people equally in love with the Gnu High album, Keith Jarrett's European quartet records, Jan's solo records, etc. etc. What a focused and unified sound concept on that album, though; there's definitely a "vibe" throughout.
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