| • • • Join Our Mailing List! |
|
Heard In
Reviews of artist releases: cd's, books, magazines, &c.
|
The Squid's Ear presents reviews about releases sold at Squidco.com written by independent writers. 
advertise with The Squid's Ear Interested in becoming a reviewer? |
|
The Squid's Ear is the companion magazine to the online music shop Squidco ! |
The first word to come to mind with regard to Obliquities, recorded in late 1994, is "bluster." From the opening track, "Marxbruder," there is a clear impression of two longstanding buddies who regularly engage in overblown arguments at the corner tavern, neither particularly listening to the other (because the diatribes are so well-worn), neither in real disagreement, more concerned with putting on a show for the locals. Parker, on tenor here (soprano elsewhere) is in his alternative mode to the dervish-like spirals he favors on the higher instrument: a sort of bubbling up of phrases that, over the course of a given piece, become relatively indistinguishable from one another and that only loosely have much to do with whomever he's accompanying. I can't help but draw analogies to some desultory traditional jam session, with the weary tenorist swaggering to the mike and playing the same changes he's done several thousand times previously. He may do it well - and certainly Parker possesses all the technique one could ask for - but deep down, there's the sense or sameness, of routine. Guy, who generally deploys a "concert bass," a higher pitched version of the standard double bass, when Parker is on soprano, largely succumbs to his tendency to want to "wow" the listener with his extraordinary technical ability at the expense of producing a solid, beautiful piece of music. More often than not, I found myself distracted by each musician's individual contributions and left, after the piece was over, with little lasting impression of a fluid creation, more of a collection of components. Even when stumbling along, however, two musicians of this caliber can lurch into some wonderful music and this indeed occurs once or twice, notably on "Balestra" and "Punta Reversa," where the music suddenly becomes more than the sum of its parts and soars. Guy, through sheer force of technique, manages to transcend and obliterate its constrictions. But overall, they're treading water, not really having an idea that merited investigation that day, preferring to simply rehash old tried and true maxims. To be sure, this may be enough for many listeners but for those who had followed this pair's history, "Obliquities" can't be considered a particularly notable stop along the way.
By the late summer of 2001, one could be forgiven for having thought that Parker and Guy, both in their 50s, might have become even more prone to reminiscing than reinventing. So it comes as even more of a pleasant surprise to hear them take a step or two back, to reassess their work and where it stands in the contemporary music scene, realizing that there's no need to force listeners' jaws to drop in astonishment at prodigious technique, that a little bit of reticence can go a very long way. Pinpointing exactly how and where this transpires is impossible, but from the first notes there's a sense of increased vitality, of purpose, of having something important and beautiful to say. Birds and Blades is a two-disc set, the first recorded in studio, the second live the following day. The studio tracks are generally shorter (between four and fifteen minutes) and, on the whole, more concentrated and thrilling. It's not as though the two have cast aside their technique - it's as ferocious as ever. But their attack seems to have a goal now. The aptly titled "Swordplay" is awash in flash but instead of existing in a rather empty framework where one's reaction might be "is that all there is?", the furious interplay, the lightning quick jabs and feints all add up to an exhausting joyride that bristles with giddy life. At moments, the instruments virtually disappear as recognizable entities and only pure sound remains. On quieter pieces like "Cut and Thrust" and "Barrage," Parker happily indulges in some quite melodic playing, an approach that has often brought out the best in Guy (either in his small group or large ensemble works), as it does here. I should also mention that the recording quality on the studio set is superb and that the full, color-drenched range of Guy's sound is better apprehended than most of his recordings.
