Jackson Harrison Trio – Land Tides

hatOLOGY 647

Australian pianist Jackson Harrison may be youthful in years, but his ears stretch back decades into jazz history. His lyrical approach accesses Bill Evans by way of Chick Corea and this debut carries intimations of the latter's seminal Solid State LP, Now He Sings, Now He Sobs. I also hear slivers of Satie in the elegant economy of his touch. Eight compositions, all of Harrison’s hatching, emphasize spontaneity and space over premeditation. Thematic structures are simple and designed not to impede the players in their terpsichorean interplay. An underlying decorum informs Harrison's improvisations, but he's not averse to churning things up as the fractious outbursts and tumbling chord collisions of “Kinski” illustrate.

The pianist occupies the leader seat on Land Tides, but it’s the drummer that had me most frequently transfixed. Dan Weiss tugs at time like a child stretches saltwater taffy. At first, his slow motion beats and staggered signatures seem like indications of hesitancy or lethargy, but once the ears adjust, the inner logic of their intentionality emerges. A gently staccato snare patter and clicking sticks-on-rims is all that’s necessary to propel segments of the title piece. His brushwork on “Dreamed Landscape” is similarly skeletal and just as effective in conveying lean rhythmic movement. The quiet balladry of “Music to Forget” finds him abandoning countable time in favor of textured scrapes and scurries. In like fashion, bassist Thomas Morgan builds harmonic buttresses with the most frugal of pizzicato materials. His sound is big and resonant, but his notes relatively few and widely spaced. All three players rely readily on repetition, recycling patterns and tinkering with the temporal pinnings of the pieces to generate a palpable feeling of push and pull.

Without careful communication, the music could easily slip into mollifying stasis or stumble in the midst of missed cues. The trio's unhurried and individualized approach, in part the product of their nascent working relationship at the session, ends up achieving the opposite effect. Most of the pieces move along at gradual paces that leave plenty of time to observe and enjoy the details. Even more conventional cuts like the somewhat stiff-limbed “Strafe” convey a convergence of talent beyond the commonplace. While Harrison and his Brooklyn-based colleagues certainly limn territory closer to center than some of the music from Hat's golden era, the level of creativity and dedication on hand isn't arguably any less. As a habitat for fledgling piano trios, the label’s recent streak for weaning some of the best and brightest of the flock continues unabated.

~ Derek Taylor