“I’m back.”
These words, which the septuagenarian uttered to the crowd with a tomcat grin on his face between pieces, summarized what seemed to be in everyone’s heart at the Velvet Lounge last Wednesday night. Saxophonist Fred Anderson—who Downbeat magazine often refers to as Chicago’s patriarchal “Out Cat”—took the stage at the Velvet Lounge after a stint in the hospital, and reminded everyone in the audience why it is, indeed, his Velvet Lounge.
His instrument's tone was meaty, and the portions offered contained no more fat than what was needed for a nice marble effect. The impetus behind the event was to herald the release of Anderson’s newest disc, From the River to the Ocean, yet another collaboration with force-of-nature drummer Hamid Drake. Drake, who was nearly an hour late for the show (as someone in the crowd shouted when he was making his apologies, “We forgive you”...at least this time), has for years now studied unique drumming techniques and rhythms from around the globe, and did not disappoint his large fan base. And though at times it seemed that his playing was needlessly overpowering the rest of the musicians, much of that might be attributed to poor, last minute microphone placement, rather than bombast.
The rest of the performers consisted of Chicago regulars in the improv/jazz scene Jeff Parker on guitar, Josh Abrams on bass and guimbri (an instrument that looks like a large, prehistoric lute, and seems as if it is used simply for novelties sake, but in fact sounds warm and somewhat ethereal—the instrument for a fat-fingered angel perhaps) and the superbly talented Harrison Bankhead on bass and cello. Parker’s guitar work was very effective in filling out the rhythm section as he strummed the relevant chords, and his light, airy solos offered a pleasant counterpoint to the rest of the groups’ earthy tones. Abrams’ bass lines jerked and swayed in a way that always seemed one step ahead of predictability, giving them a tinge of bravura without disrupting the quintet’s dynamic.
In contrast to Abrams’ attack, Bankhead’s flow came to ears like water: sliding effortlessly around stones, leaping across lilies and back into the drink without causing any unintentional splashes. The differing techniques of the two bassists played well off of one another, and since Bankhead and Drake have been working together since their teens, the two grooved in the most uncanny, preternatural way. However, one of the highlights of the evening was when Bankhead opened with a brief, but intense solo, and then was joined by Fred “Baba” Anderson. The sound was at once raw and sleek, minimal and full. By the time the rest of the group joined in—Drake by then having switched over to a bongo and frame drum—the look of many of those in attendance suggested that they had been transported from a dim, Southside storefront jazz club into a dim, Southside storefront faith center that performed the most wondrous rites.
hey big shot writer man, marbled, meaty?
jazz is food for the soul how long did you think about that one.....cleaver!
Posted by: sam crannell | Saturday, August 04, 2007 at 02:54 AM