All sorts of jazz, free jazz and improv. Never for money, always for love.
Appropriately, though morosely titled, this two-CD set will be welcomed
since it puts into circulation another 100 plus minutes of music featuring
expatriate South African bassist Johnny Dyani (1945-1986).
The discs, recorded in 1983 and 1985, are also the only recorded examples
of this working trio, headed by Anders Gahnold. The Swede is an avocational
alto saxophonist, who abandoned jazz after Dyani's death, only recording
again on 2002's And William Danced with Americans, bassist William Parker
and drummer Hamid Drake.
It may be that he only feels comfortable working with non-Swedes. While
he started improvising early -- he was born in 1959 -- his only band was
this spur-of-the-moment affair formed when he met Dyani loading his bass
into his car after a gig and asked if the older man was interested. It was
the bassist who brought along drummer Gilbert Matthews, another expatriate
South African, whose European experience encompassed gigs with American
saxist Charles Tyler and South African pianist Chris McGregor.
McGregor and Dyani were part of the Blues Notes, a racially mixed band that
emigrated together from South Africa to London in the 1960s. After mixing
with many British improvisers, the bassist moved his base of operations
to Copenhagen from 1972 until the end of his life, recording with American
and Dutch experimenters and touring as part of guitarist Pierre Dørge's
New Jungle Orchestra.
Sweden was more conservative than Denmark though. Not only was this trio
the bassist's only gig there, but his assured and powerful playing is placed
in a pretty conventional freebop -- almost hard bop -- setting on the CD
itself.
Gahnold, who was initially influenced by Charlie Parker and Paul Desmond,
sticks to Bird's simpler side throughout. Like the Energizer Bunny he always
seems "on" -- able to play and play and play. But his note selection
on each tune, and his rather limited variations on the themes don't seem
to diverge that much from standard changes. His output, especially on the
first CD, sounds like that of Jackie McLean, or one of the other second
generation modern alto saxophonists: based on bop, it's a bit more progressive
but wedded to simple changes.
There are times here when he honks like an R&B stylist and others places,
as on "Gilbert's Blues," where his highly shaded and edgy tone
produces chirping sounds not that much different than what Cannonball Adderley
would play.
Sticking to cymbal action and the occasional bass drum bomb dropping, Matthews
too seems most comfortable in bop time. As a matter of fact there are portions
of the blues track where his snare work suggests Dannie Richmond, at least
the way Richmond played in 1960. Showcased, as on "Groove For Willy,"
however, he's practically transformed into Buddy Rich with a crowd-pleasing
exhibition of thumps, rumbles and jumps. When Gahnold follows him with squealing
up-and-down variations on the theme, it could be an updated JATP concert
with the saxist in the Flip Phillips role.
The three were tighter two years later. When they take on "Summertime,"
the set's one standard, Matthew's bounces and rolls emphasize the beat-bound
side of the tune, while the reedist's wide vibrato and soaring obbligatos
suggest that he can't decide whether to improvise as a pre-modern hot soloist
or like Janis Joplin.
Grasping the unvarying tempo beneath his fingers, Dyani still has time to
suddenly leap up the neck to yank some notes from beneath the pegs and come
up with Sketches of Spain-like flamenco suggestions in his backing work.
Similar legerdemain happens elsewhere. Powerful and resonate on "Jagad,"
he strums his strings like a guitar, when not double and triple stopping
enough to encourage Gahnold to add color to his overblowing. "Duett,"
which despite the title is a trio number, finds him trying on for size flat-picking
plucks, trad jazz slaps, metallic tugs and some caterwauling arco work on
top of solid drum rolls and shrill reed tones from the others.
Elsewhere, low-down, woody, resonating bass notes vie for sonic space with
squeaking wiry notes, torqued for maximum augmentation. Plus "Gilbert's
Blues," which though definitely American-inflected, seems to remind
Dyani of his homeland's Townships; his slithering bass solo features tempo
changes and output that could also come from an African kora.
Those seeking hitherto unexposed examples of Dyani's four-string art will
be well served by these discs as will those who prefer a not terribly experimental
freebop session. But in many ways the historical value here outweighs the
purely musical.
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