Despite some marked changes in personnel, Chicago-based reedman Ken Vandermark’s quintet has maintained a singular force and community-centered vision, coupled with regular work and recording, for over a decade – rare in today’s improvised music climate. The latest lineup change was the departure of venerated trombonist Jeb Bishop, who lent his vocal tailgate and bebop facility (Rudd and Moncur) to, for lack of a better word, the group’s “swing,” especially evident on the V5’s repertory Free Jazz Classics sessions. His replacement is somewhat surprising – cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm, late of Vandermark’s inter-continental Territory Band and the Peter Brötzmann Tentet. Self-styled as an anti-cellist, his instrument lacquered black and decorated with various decals (including, at one point, hot-rod flames up the sides), Lonberg-Holm studied composition with Morton Feldman and has made extensive use of light-box conduction in his own pieces, while also being a virtuosic double- and triple-stopper and master of extended technique.
When the V5 was a youthful band partly culled from Hal Russell’s NRG Ensemble, Bishop doubled on trombone and an unruly electric guitar; alongside drummer Tim Mulvenna and reedman Mars Williams (both since departed), his contributions helped to blur the lines between punk-rock energy and free improvisational approach. Bishop later abandoned the guitar to concentrate on trombone; with Lonberg-Holm in the fray, the group is once again delicately poised between tight contrapuntal swing and high-octane, rock-rooted energy music. Amplified, Lonberg-Holm’s cello provides electric density akin to Bishop’s guitar; deftly plucked and skittering, the unamplified instrument gives a woody pliancy to the music, opening it up in ways far removed from Bishop’s chortle and swagger. Vandermark recognizes the propensity for mass, employing a significant amount of husky baritone; as in their early years, the group echoes the perverse attack of Surman and McLaughlin on Where Fortune Smiles (Dawn, 1971), this time on “Convertible, Version One (For Charles Eames).” “Convertible” is built on an anthemic chord progression that would’ve indeed made McLaughlin proud. Dave Rempis’ alto surges out of the gates as the first soloist, like Arthur Jones combining hints of the saccharine and a feral intensity, with a Roscoe Mitchell-like sense of construction. Vandermark explores the baritone’s lower reaches as Lonberg-Holm bows slow tempests around him, drummer Tim Daisy and bassist Kent Kessler providing a painterly swirl of percussive roil before Rempis returns on tenor.
“Reciprocal” opens with a Mingus-like head, jumpy and ebullient, Vandermark’s bass clarinet in glottal counterpoint with Rempis’ gritty tenor. Lonberg-Holm might be Jackson Wiley to Vandermark’s Mingus in this setting, poised yet bluesy in his solo spot and providing a distant flamenco comp to the ensuing reedy workout. Similarly, his strums provide an odd anchor for Rempis’ tenor solo on “La Dernier CRI” as Kessler and Daisy fragment and fidget with a delicate propulsion. “Some Not All” employs thudding rhythms and a skronky electric cello riff for Rempis and Vandermark to tussle with; again, the V5 present jazz-rock of a very high order. Whether or not it’s the influence of Lonberg-Holm, Vandermark’s compositions seem more easily opened up here, isolating tones and breaking off into the patter of duos and trios, as in “Morricone” or the cello-bass duet in “Convertible.” Indeed, as the V5 are poised along the discontinuity of delicacy and bravura, their work becomes more refined and their progression more interesting to watch.
~ Clifford Allen
Posted by clifford on October 8, 2006 8:10 PM.................................................. © 2003 - 2006 bagatellen ..................................................