Paul Murphy Trio - Shadow•Intersections•West

Cadence Jazz 1160

Creative music listeners are in the midst of a Paul Murphy Renaissance. This recent disc constitutes the third recent release by the barrel-chested, Popeye-forearmed drummer in a trilogy for the Cadence Jazz label. The previous two entries included Red Snapper, a collection complied from rehearsal tapes featuring Jimmy Lyons and Karen Borca, and Ennare, a trio date matching him with cellist Kash Killion and pianist Joel Futterman. As good as those discs are it’s this new one that has an edge in terms of urgency and substance. Killion is still on board, sounding feisty and animated on his amplified strings, but it’s the biting, combative alto of Marco Eneidi that truly gives the date its viscera and punch.

In a recent sit-down for Cadence magazine Eneidi supplied a frustration-fueled summary of his last few years trying to survive as an improvising musician. Merciless potshots at John Tchicai and the demoralizing apathy of most music listeners were among his tactical invectives. It wasn’t a flattering oratory and I have to admit to coming away with a bitter taste after reading it. Translated musically though, these feelings of anger and anomie have a much more palatable cast. Eneidi channels his angst into a body of music ripe with wounded emotion and bottle-necked pride.

Murphy’s oceanic rhythms work almost as a tincture to the blistering lines of Eneidi’s horn and the punishing thrumming of Killion’s callused fingers. They end up the tempered glue that counterbalances the more recalcitrant leanings of his colleagues. On the opener “Outlines” the three only rarely relinquish momentum. A near continuous fount of skidding figures pours from Eneidi’s alto and he recalls the velocity of Lyons as Murphy matches his speed with rolling mallets. “Spectral Traces” is a study in spatial acuity and minute accents. Here Murphy fashions a dialogue with his sticks, bouncing between stereo channels and leaving plenty of space for the stringent sparsely placed interjections of his partners. Later Eneidi sketches rasp-infused legato lines atop the steadily building rhythm of frothing cymbals and percussive arco cello.

His initial solitary cry on “Ghibli” carries the vinegary tone of Jackie McLean, but with the elder reedman’s optimism largely removed. The entrance of Killion’s carbonated pizzicato and Murphy’s cymbal splashes once again acts like soothing water tossed on white hot embers, causing a catalytic reaction that unleashes hissing aural steam. Eneidi ties the piece off with an unaccompanied coda, calling down the spirits with another affecting entreaty that turns from caustic to surprisingly delicate in its final seconds. A gravity-defying gossamer wisp dispersed by inevitable silence.

“Winds Run” finds Murphy churning up more rhythmic spindrift on snare and cymbals and Eneidi once again almost blowing a gasket with the amount of lungpower funneled through his mouthpiece. All the while Killion hunt and pecks a canny pizzicato ribbon amidst the din. On “Ixion” the cellist saws his strings down to frayed braids as he and Eneidi riding another tidal crest set in motion by Murphy’s fluid stickplay. Tracks like “Jacinthe” and “Rouge” contrast the burners beautifully, diffusing comparable energy into structures that rely more prominently on space and gradation.

At just shy of seventy-minutes it’s a hefty slab of music, but the rewards for devoting one’s ears are manifold. Murphy’s constantly recalibrating rhythms make the minutes glide by and in close league with his partners he hatches a program that generates a high degree of replay value. As hopeful as I am that Eneidi’s circumstances have improved, his indignation supplies an undeniably potent source of improvisatory brilliance.

~ Derek Taylor