Tim Berne - Open, Coma & Science Friction

Tim Berne
Open, Coma
Screwgun

Tim Berne/Craig Taborn/Marc Ducret
Science Friction
Screwgun

Those who have followed Tim Berne’s career as a composer will have noticed long ago that he knows how to make a small ensemble sound like a chamber orchestra. His contrapuntal writing and improvising gifts can turn a piece for trio or quartet into an information-crammed (but always lucid) symphony. And, like Braxton, Guy and Fell, he has always seemed intent on enlarging and deepening his technique, rather than on remaining comfortably ensconsed some stylistic pigeonhole . Thus, a number of observers of the scene have wondered aloud what Berne might do these days with a big band at his disposal. Open, Coma, four tunes on two discs for the ten-piece Copenhagen Art Ensemble—here joined by Berne, trumpeter Herb Robertson, and guitarist Marc Ducret—provides an answer. The group is conducted by Ture Larsen (who also arranged one of the pieces), so Berne is free to chip in with some fine alto work. The tunes (three recorded live, one in the studio—all but the title piece previously recorded) contain many of the usual Bernian elements, including Hemphill, Bartok, screaming funk, prog rock and blues. The two main differences here are the additional instruments available for counterpoint and the sound of Thomas Clausen’s (often ring modulated) Fender Rhodes. The Copenhagen players are solid and seem well-rehearsed, and the two-disk canvas gives Berne plenty of space to stretch out. Why then is Open, Coma merely good and not the masterpiece one might have expected? My own explanation is that the excessive tune lengths combined with the enlarged palette to dilute the music’s focus rather than increase its quality. Earlier recorded performances are better. Each piece and almost every solo is too long by nearly half. The intros meander, the segues are convoluted, the endings almost endless. Naturally, there are many wonderful moments, from cuckoo canonic counterpoint and other Berne concentricities to breathtaking chorales and excellently raunchy blues. Much of Nils Davisen’s traps work can be held up for particular praise, and a couple of Ducret’s solos are absolutely ass-kicking. There’s a fabulous soprano solo by Lotte Anker on the Larsen-arranged “Impacted Wisdom”. And, of course, there’s no shortage of Berne’s patented competing ostinati. I hope I’m clear in my opinion that Open, Coma contains a varied bundle of exciting, consummately crafted big band music. My reservations stem largely from my very high expectations for Berne releases. With its regular nods toward 1970s Milesian psycho-funk, its occasionally stereo-typical trombone and clarinet work, its sometimes portentously Hammer-esque Rhodes spanking, and its humongous subdivisions, Open, Coma is a fair distance below the level of much of Berne’s recorded work since Diminutive Mysteries. Even so, this set—available exclusively through Screwgun—is, like Sam River’s recent Culmination, an important addition to the modern big band literature.

Science Friction is, as they say, a whole nother ball of foil. A good number of jazz-rock fusion aficionados believe that the golden age was little more than fumes after Mahavishnu Orchestra’s Bird of Fire flew off toward northern India. If that’s so, a platinum age is well underway right now. Between Berne’s wonderful recent work with keyboardist Craig Taborn, guitarist Marc Ducret and drummer Tom Rainey, and Ellery Eskelin’s parade of fine releases with Andrea Parkins and Jim Black, there’s never been a better time for lovers of highly intelligent, fiercely blazing, electro-acoustic-prog-rock-funk-jazz. While Eskelin favors long arching lines, Berne tends to lean toward shorter interlocking motives. Also, the addition of guitar to the sax/synth/drums line-up used by Eskelin allows Berne both additional “rauc” and more voices for the composer’s extremely large contrapuntal and timbral lobes. Science Friction has pretty much everything a seeker of eternal life through higher fusion could want. There’s some Ulmer herky-jerk; some Beefheartian rhythm schemes (one tune reminded me of “Glider”); a mysterious, achingly beautiful ballad; celestial harmonics; batty time-signature changes; serious P-funk attitude; some fuzz guitar and e-piano riffing that would make both McLaughlin and Hancock smile. There is even some George Martin-style backwards processing provided by producer David Torn. These eight wild (and wildly difficult) tunes are performed with both exactitude and abandon by four masters of the genre. The composed segments and the improvs are equally scintillating. The only way this could have been better was if it had come with a day off from work: you’ll need a full 24 hours to savor your first encounter with this one.