Largo - Brad Mehldau | Jazzbo Notes

Jul

31

Largo - Brad Mehldau

≡ Category: 2000s, Essential, Fusion, Post Bop |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

JAZZBO NOTES ESSENTIAL RECORDING

Rating:

For those of you who are familiar with Brad Mehldau from his Art of the Trio recordings, you might expect Largo to be studious and slightly fussy. You would be wrong. Largo (issued on the Nonesuch label) is Brad Mehldau’s most eclectic and adventurous release to date, not only in his approach to composition, but in terms of sonic textures.

When It Rains is an odd choice for an opening track. Before I listened to Largo for the purpose of writing this review, I’ve always played the CD with several others, in random mode, to keep it fresh and surprising to my ears. With it’s elegiac tone, I had always assumed that When It Rains was the last track on Largo.

When It Rains begins with a very simple single line melody on the piano backed by sparse woodwinds and horns. Then Mehldau introduces a triplet chord figure behind the melody. Then — surprise! — you get hip hop drums. It’s odd but intriguing. When Brad Mehldau starts to solo, at last we are in more familiar territory. As you would expect, Mehldau continually weaves inside and outside the chord changes in bursts of rhythmic fragments that subdivide the time signature or travel over the bar.

On the next tune, You’re Vibing Me, Brad Mehldau plays vibes, which I’ve never heard him do before. This tune, like the first four on Largo, are originals, but the song structures have the essential, strip downed quality of the best pop, which was probably the idea. For the solos, Mehldau uses an electronically processed piano sound.

For Dusty McNugget, we’re back to hip hop drums for some crusty trio noodling. Then — surprise again! — the drums drop out and we get some sweet, almost nostalgic chord voicings on piano backed by woodwinds and horns similiar to those employed on the opening track. Then the drums are back. It’s an arresting juxtaposition.

The surprises keep coming. Dropjes features some bizarre electronics and more hip hop drums, along with acoustic bass. Although Brad Mehldau’s keyboard improvisations, which sound like Keith Jarrett by way of Scriabin, give the track a nominal jazz feel, the bass lines are not traditional walking lines. Frankly, I don’t know what the heck what the bass player is doing, but it sounds good.

The obligatory Radiohead cover, Paranoid Android, starts out with what sounds like gamelan (which is surely treated piano) before Mehldau’s respectful statement of the melody. His piano improvisations over the form of the tune are beautiful and appropriate. He retains the integrity of the composition while expanding the harmonic possibilities hinted at in the original. In a canny move, the last section of Paranoid Android is scored for mournful woodwinds and horns before Mehldau comes in with the melody.

The next shock comes with Sabbath, as treated keyboards play a typical heavy metal pentatonic bass riff, only to give way to a subdued squall of guitar feedback, over which Mehldau improvises. Some might find this simplistic and disappointing. I find it refreshing and fun.

Then comes the obligatory Beatles cover, Dear Prudence. It’s hard to complain though, when Mehldau’s interpretations of the Beatles’ songs are so consistently stimulating. (I think it’s safe to say that Brad Mehldau thinks that the preeminent pop composers of the last 50 years are the Beatles and Radiohead, and it’s hard to argue with him. I can’t think of any other pop composers who have consistently written more memorable songs.)

But Mehldau has even more tricks up his sleeve! On Free Willy, we get a percussive rapid fire treated piano bass line with the pensive elongated melody played by what I’m guessing is a bowed bass in the high register. Once again, hip hop drums pump up the energy. For the solo, Brad Mehldau users the upper half of the keyboard to pump out single note flurries while the bassist bows busily below him. A very cool tune.

I could go on, but you get the idea. Largo is full of interesting compositional ideas, the sonic palette is unusually wide for a pop record, let alone for a jazz record, and the playing by Brad Mehldau reaches his usual elevated standard. Largo is a bold recording, and I think a great one.

In my opinion, the only way you could really dislike Largo is if you object to the interpolation of pop song structures and production techniques into jazz. In other words, you would have to be a backwards looking guardian of pre-Coltrane jazz like Wynton Marsalis or Ken Burns.