Summer in the city
Ricardo Dias Gomes, Ground Zero, Lina Allemano, Devin Gray
Time has come for Ricardo Dias Gomes
A few weeks ago I wrote about Sramba (Mais Um), the terrific new album by Domenico Lancellotti, which was recorded in Lisbon with Ricardo Dias Gomes, a fantastic bassist and songwriter known best for his work with Caetano Veloso on a string of excellent records beginning with Cê in 2005. I’ve been a big fan of Gomes since encountering his sublime 2015 album -11, and a few years later I wrote about its assured follow-up Aa. Gomes is an artist of great subtlety, and his earlier solo recordings have quietly captured simultaneous artistic transformation and heavy sonic research. There’s always been something distinctly Brazilian about his music, whether it’s his hushed singing, imbued by bossa nova tradition, or the way he’s extricated melodic complexity from his nimble but stripped down bass playing. Despite overt experimental impulses, his songwriting aesthetic is rooted in MPB fundamentals. Over time it’s become clearer and clearer he’s got a lot of ideas. On Friday he released an astonishing new solo record called Muito Sol (Hive Mind) that brings all of the promise together for something leaps and bounds ahead of anything he’s done previously.
He's a studio rat and he built the album piece-by-piece with hyper-specific contributions from a variety of musicians from Brazil, the US, and Europe, all unified under his skilled arrangements. The album moves all over the place, pulling listeners in with a pair of masterful pop tunes. The title track rides on one of his excellent, cycling basslines that affords a variety of textures to sparkle on top. I’ve never heard the noise-stoked playing of French guitarist Julien Desprez sound so effective, hugging the leader’s bass line on this tune and that unleashing shards of post-Arto Lindsay racket on “Morrerei Por Isso,” which also contains a gorgeously grainy, close-miked tenor saxophone solo by Tiago Querioz—he’s a cousin of fellow reedist Joana Queiroz of Quartabê. Both of those tunes are marvels of perfection, especially the second one—check it out below—nonchalantly situating a tender melody within a slippery, complexion-altering timbre. He begins toying with us on the instrumental track “Fllux,” a needling drone built from repetitive, murky low notes by Desprez, increasingly curdled by electronic tones generated by Dias on an OP-1.
As the album proceeds Dias toggles effortlessly between melodic gems and more sound-driven excursions, elements often combined, like the slippery spasms of unidentifiable noise and birdsong that infect the otherwise dreamy “Um Dia.” Most of the songs are based on minimal materials, some retaining the austerity, while others apply counterpoint and fragile harmonies on top, giving everything a rare vulnerability except the final section of the closing track “Coracão Sulamericano,” which follows dive bombing synth lines and free jazz sax with a blown-out post-punk celebration of the singer’s South American heritage. The thudding beats on “Menos” remind me of the rhythmic schemes Tom Zé deployed on his classic albums from the 1970s, but rather than layering contrasting elements over top, Dias sinks into the groove, singing gently and letting sizzling, acidic analog synthesizers scorch the landscape. “Não Ver Onde Se Vê” opens with just voice and bass guitar, harking to the sound of his previous solo records, but then a lean band arrangement kicks in, elevating but not crushing the core sensuality. It’s one of my favorite albums of the year. Here’s hoping people begin waking up to his multi-pronged talents.
Ground Zero on vinyl
Back in Chicago during the mid-1990s the already global reach of Jim O’Rourke—then in the midst of his fruitful partnership with David Grubbs as Gastr del Sol—benefitted locals on a regular basis. There was a period when the two of them were bringing a who’s who of experimental heavies to the city, giving us rare opportunities to hear Tony Conrad, Arnold Dreyblatt, Zeni Geva, Faust, and many others, usually at the one-and-only Lounge Ax. In April of 1995 they set up a double bill with James Chance and Otomo Yoshihide’s Ground Zero, and the latter blew my mind, further opening a fissure first inflicted by hearing and seeing the Boredoms and Ruins. Ground Zero never came back to Chicago, but over the next four years they continued make records which, in many ways, became a blueprint for Otomo’s various jazz-oriented projects, which, like most things he’s ever done, have never been stylistically pure.
I hadn’t listened the group’s 1997 album Plays Standards in many years, but last fall the recording was belatedly pressed on double vinyl in a joint venture between the Krakow imprint Not Two and Polish superfan Marcin Witkowski, with help from the latter’s daughter Malwina—a booking agent in Norway working with some of the country’s most interesting improvisers. In some ways the album represent a specific slice in time, pushing the jump cut aesthetic of John Zorn’s Naked City—which famously collaborated with Boredoms front man Yamantaka Eye—into a jacked-up sort of Rock in Opposition mode, although there are also digressions, such as a free improv-driven medley of Misha Mengelberg and Steve Beresford pieces. Otomo’s definition of “standards” was quite broad—more a nostalgic reflection on music that resonated with him from childhood onward—with tunes by Bacharach, Brecht/Eisler, Phew, Nelson Cavaquinho, Material, and John Philip Sousa among others.
The album opens with a mashup of Victor Jara’s nueva canción and Japanese prog-rock saxophonist Shinoda Masami that hasn’t withstood the ravages of time so well, with the schmaltzy tenor playing Kikuchi Naruyoshi dominating the proceedings. But the rest of the epic generally holds up, bringing a joyful chaos and utter indifference to stylistic purity to a broad array of inspirations, with Otomo’s rough turntable cuts presiding over the din with a gleeful sense of anarchy. In stark contrast to the warped bossa nova of “Folhas Secas,” which you can hear below, there’s also a searing interpretation of “Akashia no Ame ga Yamu Toki,” an old noise freak-out by saxophonist Abe Kaoro, with Otomo and Uchihashi Kazuhisa on screaming guitars. The deluxe double vinyl reissue is available from Not Two, while the digital version remains available from ReR.
The welcome return of the Lina Allemano Four
I’ve been an admirer of the music created by trumpeter Lina Allemano, who continues to split her time between Toronto and Berlin, since hearing her 2010 album Jargon. That recording was made with the same elastic Canadian quartet she’s performing with this week at Kunstfabrik Schlot on Wednesday, June 14—part of an ongoing series at the club called “Inside…,” where a musician presents two different bands on the same program. Also appearing is her Berlin trio Ohrenschmaus, with drummer Michael Griener and bassist Dan Peter Sundland. Last month her quartet—with alto saxophonist Brodie West, bassist Andrew Downing, and drummer Nick Fraser—released its strongest album yet, Pipe Dream (Lumo). I got to hear that band a couple of times during the spring of 2022, and it was clear that the group relished getting back together. There was a palpable sense of joy emanating from the bandstand, fueled by an ongoing sense of discovery.
The quartet is Allemano’s longest-running project, originally forming in 2005, and over time the leader has displayed increasing trust in her collaborators. Much of the new album’s material was composed in isolation during the pandemic, but the first three tunes couldn’t have been tackled with such grace and intuition if the players didn’t already possess such a deep connection. On those tracks each musician operates something like a different section of an orchestra, coming together to articulate her pithy themes, but pulling apart to unleash skeins of remarkable contrapuntal activity. On the opening track “Banana Canon”—check it out below—she plays with the titular form, as everything swings around the see-sawing arco patterns of Downing, with West braying like a two-note donkey while Alleman carves out a deeply melodic, episodic solo—which occasionally taps into that back-and-forth theme. Underneath it all Fraser splays the groove wide open, pushing rhythm across his entire kit, with especially inventive cymbal playing. The group melds through-composed charts and generous improvisation on the entire album, but this trio of opening pieces are truly remarkable examples of group interplay, with a compositional approach that genuinely takes into account the strengths of each musician a la Duke Ellington. It all goes down rather smoothly, a testament to how the group has internalized the material, but such execution demands total concentration. The band never falls back into vamps. Instead, we get four simultaneous lines, masterfully in sync even as each traces its own path forward.
The bulk of the album is devoted to the four-part “Plague Diaries,” which was intended to chronicle her various emotions the trumpeter experienced during the pandemic. Each movement is introduced by a solo by different members of the group—a reflection of the isolation in which the material was forged—but there’s no doubt this a collective enterprise once the rest of the band joins in. The arrangements on these tunes mirror that orchestral approach of the opening tracks, albeit with more of a jacked-up cool jazz vibe that’s no less satisfying or impressive. I’ve found it possible to enjoy both the group sound and as well as investigating things on a micro level to hear how the various parts all work together.
Devin Gray steps out front
I’m pretty certain my introduction to drummer Devin Gray came with the release of his 2012 album Dirigo Rataplan, a quartet session I paid attention to because it was released on Chris Speed’s estimable Skirl label and it featured bassist Michael Formanek, trumpeter Dave Ballou, and tenor saxophonist Ellery Eskelin—the crème de la crème of the Baltimore post-bop scene at the time. Gray had the goods to support such esteemed company, with decent tunes and a nice conception. From that period he’s an exemplar of swing-driven free jazz, with plenty of versatility on either side of the equation.
Since moving to Berlin almost four years ago I’ve gotten to hear and speak with Gray, who splits his time between here and New York, on multiple occasions. His energy and curiosity have become obvious to me, as has his ability to improve the bands he works in without putting himself in the spotlight—he’s playing Friday night as a member of the Michaël Attias Quartet at Donau115. I’m sure other factors weighed heavier—like wanting to share a discipline he’s largely developed privately with an actual audience—but if you’re always the ensemble member, I assume it’s nice to get a little spotlight now and again. So Gray has extended a long tradition of solo drum recordings with Most Definitely, a sharply programmed demonstration of his concepts, which often come in concise exercises—most under a minute or two that—where a hidden facet can be examined in detail or a sick groove that unfolds for forty seconds.
Gray deploys a judicious use of electronics here and there—“Pull to Refresh,” below, embodies that concept with some classic tape rewinds/restarts of an interrupted pattern—with other sallies slathered in distortion, reverb, and or digital glitch. There are a couple of extended pieces where specific ideas are lost in a more ambitious narrative sweep. Side B of the vinyl is occupied by “Soldier on, Milford,” an homage to the master percussionist Professor Graves characterized by an air of solemnity and swelling patterns shaped and distinguished by the honoree’s connection to heart rhythms. Through pieces both miniature and epic Gray injects a natural musicality and an ineffable sense of propulsion. I’ve heard him take strong solos, and in some ways this record zeroes in on the parts that make the engine run, showing them off in a particular way, while also demonstrating how it all fits together. Although I don’t consider this to be Gray’s primary artistic endeavor, he’s in the midst of an extended tour in the US and Europe, sharing the solo music live. It happens in Berlin on June 17 at House of Music, when he shares a bill with Tryon, a 12-member ensemble playing the compositions of its bassist Tryon Mills.
Recommended concerts in Berlin this week
June 14: Inside…Lina Allemano, 9 PM, Kunstfabrik Schlot, Edison Höfe, Invalidenstraße 117, 10115 Berlin
June 15: Seijiro Murayama & Jean-Luc Guionnet/Lucio Capece & Werner Dafeldecker, 8 PM, Petersburg Art Space, Kaiserin-Augusta-Allee 101, 10553 Berlin (Entrance in the courtyard, Aufgang II, 1 OG)
June 16: Jessica Moss, 8 PM, Morphine Raum, Köpenicker Straße 147, 10997 Berlin (Hinterhof 1. Etage)
June 16: Michaël Attias Quartet, 8:30 PM, Donau115, Donaustraße 115, 12043 Berlin
June 17: Elaine Mitchener with MAM, 8 PM, KM 28, Karl-Marx-Straße 28, 12043 Berlin
June 17: Devin Gray/Tryon—Purification, House of Music, Revaler Str. 99, 10245 Berlin
June 18: Maulwerker (Ernstalbrecht Steibler, Cathy von Eck, Arturas Bumšteinas, Cenk Ergün), 8 PM, St. Elisabeth-Kirche, Invalidenstr. 3, 10115 Berlin
June 18: Chris Pitsiokis (solo), Seijiro Murayama/Jean-Luc Guionnet/Cyprien Busolini/Axel Dörner, 8 PM, Petersburg Art Space, Kaiserin-Augusta-Allee 101, 10553 Berlin (Entrance in the courtyard, Aufgang II, 1 OG)
Thanks so much for turning me on to Gomes' projects! Ever since I first heard the Ambitious Lovers, I've been a sucker for futuristic takes on MPB. 'Muito Sol' is fantastic.