It Takes Two: Kenny Wheeler's Understatement.


The album, It Takes Two, by Kenny Wheeler has been on general issue now for over a year. It was released in June 2006 by CamJazz, the Italian label launched in 2000.

Kenny Wheeler is such an understated and subtle artist that his music is not something the discerning listener jumps carelessly into. His playing has a way of sneaking up on you. Of winding its way into your consciousness so, only after some time, do you become aware of how good it is, how perfectly crafted and performed. Add this to the fact that on this outing he is accompanied by John Abercrombie, a supremely lyrical and perceptive guitarist and it becomes apparent that time has to pass before a judgement can be made.

Having said that this is the first of his albums to leave me a just little disappointed. That is not to say there is some beautiful music here, some fine playing and performances. A slightly unsatisfying recording would be perhaps be the best description. Outside of Kenny’s flugelhorn, there are the contributions of the above mentioned John Abercrombie, John Parricelli – a British guitarist and the Swedish bass player Anders Jormin.

Highlights of the album are My New Hat, a dreamy number that opens with Jormin’s bowed bass striking a distinctly Moorish motif before the two guitars, (electric and acoustic) enter, creating a space over which the flugelhorn floats in its melody. It Takes Two follows - a typical Wheeler piece of music - the horn uncovering hidden harmonic and melodic spaces, then bending into the upper or lower registers in those sudden turns of which he is so capable, while the guitars trade an almost pizzicato style of soloing and accompaniment. But it is on track three, Comba Nr 3, that the combined talents of all four musicians come best together. A beautiful, haunting melody, full of, again, Moorish hints, southern European folkloric motifs and the north American urban landscape. The spacing of the instruments, their timing, their presence and absence at critical points make the track the prefect vehicle for Wheeler’s unique musical sense.

Other high points are Love Theme from Spartacus, just the two guitars with fingers sliding and the occasional sigh or grunt delightfully adding to its immediacy. One of Many, a lovely flowing piece which John Abercrombie augments with his clear, singing guitar lines. And, Fanfare, an overdubbed horn piece that brings to mind the Gil Evans – Miles Davis collaboration of Sketches of Spain. The two improvised pieces, no 1 and no 2, are interesting but strictly just that, improvisations, that tempt but do not completely convince of their necessity.

Despite this the album leaves me a little wanting. It seems at times to float away, to become so understated in intent that you find your mind wandering and not wandering as it should into places the music brings it. Nevertheless, such has been Kenny Wheeler’s credibility over the years that it may be it just requires more listening time. That it needs to sink in a little more before the entirety of its musical ideas, its palette becomes apparent.

However in the overall scheme of things these are minor quibbles. This is still an excellent and commendable work. An essential for those who lean to chamber jazz. For those who prefer the subtly of a Cézanne over the boldness of a Picasso.


Copyright (C) Peter Millington Nov 2007

It Takes Two: Kenny Wheeler: CamJazz 2006

Herbie Hancock keeps on Exploring.

Lovers of jazz will need no introduction to Herbie Hancock. Maverick pianist from the days of the Miles Davis quintet, preferred keyboardist of the Davis fusion years and central energy of the seminal funk-jazz crossover album Head Hunters. Herbie Hancock has never been afraid to experiment with forms and genres, to explore the possibilities inherent in different musics. However fans of Joni Mitchell may not be so well acquainted with his work. Though Joni has never been an artist to shy away from incorporating elements of jazz into her folk and rock idiom she has never quite made the step from those idioms to jazz.. All of which makes the new Herbie Hancock recording, River: The Joni Letters an intriguing listen.

For this album Herbie Hancock has assembled an eclectic mix of musicians. Saxophonist Wayne Shorter, his fellow traveller from the fusion years, bassist Dave Holland, drummer Vinnie Colaiuta, and west-African guitarist Lionel Loueke. There are also appearances by a number of leading luminaries, Tina Turner, Corinne Bailey Rae, Luciana Souza, Norah Jones and Leonard Cohen. Mitchell herself guests on a track.

Projects like this can go astray, fall between the contrasting drives of their respective genres. Yet it is to Hancock’s credit that this album delivers. It manages an adroit balance between accessibly and improvisation without sacrificing musical integrity. It plays with Hancock’s jazzier instincts and the limitations of the rock and folk idiom. It elaborates on the subtlety of Joni Mitchell’s melodies and provides a sophisticated setting for her often quite excellent lyrics. It manages to be neither a Joni Mitchell album nor a Herbie Hancock album. Instead it occupies a space somewhere between the two.

That is not to say it is without flaws. The title track, The River, comes over a little too sweet. Punching under its weight. Corrine Bailey Rae’s vocals sound to my ears somewhat girlish, smothering the ironical longing of the lyrics; Also, Norah Jones’s vocals on the opening track, Court and the Spark, appear at times to get lost, to sink below the music. And the final track, one of two bonus tracks, A Case of You, while infectious and cross referencing Afro-Pop, folk and R&B could be considered superfluous.

Stand-out tracks are Nefertiti, (a classic Wayne Shorter piece), Luciana Souza’s reading of Amelia, (melancholy, rich and warm all at once), All I Want, (performed as a true jazz-spiritual), Edith and the Kingpin, (Tina Turner on a song that lets her voice show its range and capabilities), and Joni Mitchell herself on The Tea-Leaf Prophecy. Special mention should be made of Leonard Cohen’s reading the of The Jungle Line. I approached this with trepidation having read that Cohen did not sing but recite the lyrics. However, despite his gravely, melancholy delivery, this track works very well. Just voice and piano, the piano returning again and again to the lower registers in an almost delta blues manner, and the voice, as would befit a man who is a published poet, ringing the nuances and levels of meaning from of the words.

This is not a jazz album in the purist sense. Neither is it a rock or folk album. What it is, is an album of contemporary adult music. Performed skilfully, with elegance and in a spirit of exploration. Those who criticise Herbie Hancock’s flirtations with popular music should consider that in many ways he is being true to the roots of jazz. A music that, (before it entered the universities and museums) was a popular music and never denied its relationship with popular forms of self-expression.

This is an interesting and successful recording. It begs the question what further such projects could produce. A collaboration with Tina Turner, Luciana Souza or even Leonard Cohen?

River: The Joni Letters, is well worth having. A enjoyable addition to any collection for those who love music.


Copyright (C) Peter Millington Oct 2007


Herbie Hancock. River:The Joni Letters