Ted Brown - Shades of Brown

Steeplechase 31628

Officially a member of the octogenarian club as of this Saturday, saxophonist Ted Brown’s secret to longevity likely has something to do with a steadfast musical philosophy. While others his age rely on regimens of exercise or diet, Brown banks on time spent parsing the possibilities of “Cherokee”. These musical calisthenics have been part of his daily routine for decades and echo pages from the Tristano School lore that he was a part of during his formative years. Colleagues like Marsh and Konitz garnered both admiration and incredulity for their obsessive interpolations of standards. Brown works from a similar revisionist-minded repertory perspective. But where others might see only calcification and fossilization, Brown sees renewable potential for melodic improvisation.

That quietly intrepid outlook on the American songbook guides the music on his new Steeplechase release. Brown dusts off a dozen vintage standards as if to prove that age really has little bearing on relative worth. Each becomes a science project in the best possible sense of the phrase and ready grist for the saxophonist’s eloquent investigations. Guitarist Steve Lamattina and bassist Dennis Irwin adapt fluently to the expressly intimate environs, which judging by the booklet photo, appear to be a modest studio space. The absence of a trap kit also aids in this regard, with Irwin’s supple striding patterns shoring up the trio’s rhythmic needs and Lamattina devising chordal lattices that recall the clean touch of classic plectrists like Raney and Farlow. Palpable patience suffuses each of the pieces. Nothing feels rushed or forced and on the infrequent occasions where either man falls out of step, Brown’s persuasive phrasing pulls them gently back into place.

On the technical side, recording balance feels slightly skewed in spots, particularly early on, with Irwin’s strings booming a bit and Lamattina conversely recessed. It’s a condition largely corrected by the time the trio convenes on “She’s Funny That Way”. Brown’s horn comes through clearly, the patter of his tenor keypads audible as muted percussive accompaniment. His improvisations spool out in imperturbable fashion and succeed in breathing life into tunes as superannuated as “Limehouse Blues” (1935) and “After You’ve Gone” (1917). Even the few faster tempo numbers carry a calmative cast, evidence of an axial Lester Young influence Brown shares in common with his old friend Marsh. Elements of the elder improviser’s lithe attack and harmonic acuity shade many of his lines though the resulting effects are hardly slavish. The wisdom and viability of the Brown’s “if it ain’t broke…” mantra exists in strong practice throughout, leading to the natural question: when exactly will listeners be privy to another fix?

[Steeplechase titles are available through Stateside AT prodigy DOT net]

~ Derek Taylor