Burton Greene - Signs of the Times

CIMP 339

The sobriquet “survivor” applies all too often when discussing the old guard of the jazz avant-garde. In pianist Burton Greene’s case, it’s a better fit than most. Originally a protégé of Ornette Coleman, Greene gained artistic cachet through a series of sessions on ESP. Four decades later, he’s still a resident at the fringes of the commercial jazz scene, but his musical vision and passion for creative improvisation remain resolute.

Sign of the Times marks the first in a trilogy of titles celebrating his longevity in music. This program centers on his writing for quintet while the other two entries focus on trio and solo performances. All were recorded over a three-day stretch at CIMP’s home away from the Spirit Room in Canton, NY. Much of the music has a refreshing retro feel to it. “Afro-Balkan Blue” sounds as if it would sit comfortably in the postbop songbook of any advanced 60s Blue Note signee. Bassist Ed Schuller opens the action with a nimble bass preamble, singing Slam Stewart-style atop a plump perambulating line that settles into a modal vamp that grounds the ensuing solos. He repeats the feat on the Horace Silverish “When Will the Rain Gods Answer.” Brother George keeps a close bead on his kinsman from behind the drum kit.

The stutter-stop Monkisms of the rhythmically vulpine “Jackal-ing,” itself a pun on one of the elder pianist’s own pieces, serve as stimuli for more spirited ensemble blowing. Trumpeter Paul Smoker joins the leader in setting up a staggered juxtaposition of statements as the rhythm section comments freely at their flanks. Saxophonist Russ Nolan’s soprano threads in-between, further enlivening the ensuing polyphony. “Triple Gemini” also evinces a strong monastic leanings, this time with less combustive results and a greater attention to laconic swing. Greene even unveils a playful patch of stride. “Between Iraq and a Hard Place” wears its politics baldly in both title and content. The oppositional aspects of its component structures yield some very militant pockets of improvisation and along with prominent Alyerian overtones through quotes from “The Caissons Go Rolling Along.”

Throughout, Smoker shows himself a consummate texturalist, his vocabulary of smears, slurs and growls contrasting with Nolan’s more straightforward, though no less energetic and attuned, articulations. The Schuller brothers draw on a powerful fraternal bond established over countless sessions together as a team. Several segments arise where their rapport seems almost hermetic; leaving Greene limited points of ingress and good-naturedly challenging his primacy. On the elegant ballad “Sad Mood”, the three find a supple synchronicity that perfectly complements the frontline of flute and muted trumpet. In sum, this session succeeds in whetting the appetite for its forthcoming siblings and shows Greene a musical synergist still imbued with something important to say.

~ Derek Taylor