Everyone has (or knows someone who has) a peculiar friend or relative. This person contributes to society, capably holds down a job, maintains a residence, gets along fine at family functions, casually drinks (and only on weekends), dresses in a tidy fashion and upholds clean hygiene, but there is something a little particular about his character. When you find out about the trophy cases that proudly display a $100,000 glass eye collection and extensive assortment of tenth century weapons, you assume the worst and tell your kids "Uncle Oliver is busy this week". However, over time, you understand that his salty nature has nothing to do with bodies under the floorboards: he's just...different, in the best possible way.
This analogy applies to Who Trio, a group of men who take otherwise Bill Evans style fare (circa Kind of Blue) and cautiously vandalize it with just enough sonic detritus — the stuff that so-called traditional jazz entertainers leave for their freer brethren to explore — to distinguish themselves from the Standards players. The subtle oddities, though, are not apparent at a glance, and it takes several listens to reveal these clever nuances (a headphone experience is recommended).
Mixing discord with consonance, pianist Michel Wintsch and bassist Bänz Oester take turns with a melody on the crawling ballad, "Inside the Glade", as drummer Gerry Hemingway weaves a flurrying wand into (not against) the mood. Over the course of thirteen minutes, each member takes a turn at instrument thumping and shaky arpeggios while someone (or two) holds the reigns on the song; the trio even plays it completely "straight" and swinging for the final minutes before Wintsch hand mutes his soundboard and Hemingway finger tunes his toms, shooting stars against an otherwise placid sunset, to signal the close of the track. Likewise, the rhythm section adheres to an unmitigated pulse throughout "Hasna", never deviating from their propulsion to provide the pianist a base for his descending chromaticism and occasional Boulezisms (think Structures). However, said pattern is a construction of gritty rattle-against-bass-strings and the drummer's "prepared" (loose head, screws missing, echoing) snare drum. On "Wedding Suite", nervous metallic drags and pings spill over Hemingway's metered, pantonal introduction. Pausing, then turning, the pianist settles into a key and the group speeds forward into a toe-tapping pseudo-Latin shuffle. Eventually, the work folds into mania and climaxes with Wintsch's caffeinated Debussy trills and Hemingway's steady, hyperactive, pitched metal taps.
Throughout the album, the group strives to experiment but does so without rippling (too far) away from the harmonic language, pace — no matter how drowsy — and otherwise progression of each composition. In other words, Who Trio is fine with the label "jazz" hung over their heads, but that doesn't mean they won't do their damndest to keep their music free from pedestrian cliché.
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