Michael Brecker - Michael Brecker

Apr

23

Michael Brecker - Michael Brecker

≡ Category: 1980s, Highly Recommended, Music Reviews, Post Bop |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

JAZZBO NOTES HIGHLY RECOMMENDED RECORDING

Rating:

Not counting the string of funky fusion recordings he made with his brother Randy, this eponymously named date was Michael Brecker’s debut as a leader. He was more than ready. The recording as a whole is a remarkably assured and matured work, balancing intricate ensemble passages with blistering solo work.

Michael gets some help from Pat Metheny (guitar), who returns the favor of Brecker appearing on his landmark release, 80/81. Metheny’s playing on the date is a model of restraint and taste, whether he’s comping or soloing, providing a balance to Michael’s passion.

But really, the entire band is exceptional. Jack DeJohnette (drums) shines in a fiery duet with Brecker on the introduction to Syzygy. Kenny Kirkland (keyboards) plays a mostly supportive role, providing luminous synthesizer washes for the rapturous Sea Glass, which opens the album. Charlie Haden (bass) provides rock solid support, which is probably best with a performer as flamboyant as Michael Brecker front and center.

The compositions are mostly inspired.

Sea Glass is a Brecker original, one of his finest ballads. The melody and harmonies initially serenely glide over a series of pedal points, but the tune intensifies as the harmonies become less predictable and more distantly related to the key center of the piece, climaxing in a fairly shocking harmonic progression, with Brecker wailing at the upper end of the tenor sax’s register.

The aforementioned Syzygy, also written by Brecker, is another highlight. After the drum and sax duet, the members of the band play the enigmatic theme in rhythmic unison, with only drummer Jack DeJohnette maintaining the groove. After the statement of the theme, the bassist locks into a simple four note ostinato for the solos. This pattern is repeated for the rest of the tune, with variations on the theme.

Choices, a brooding minor key tune, was written by Mike Stern, a guitarist noted for his strong skills as a composer. He doesn’t disappoint, providing an intricate rhythmic underpinning for a tune with drama that ebbs and flows in interesting ways. Kenny Kirkland gets a rare solo spot on this tune, and reveals himself to be a tasteful and restrained improvisor (there’s that combination again).

Nothing Personal, written by keyboard player Don Grolnick, is such an original blues, you scarcely notice it’s a blues until you think about it. Charlie Haden’s bass grounds the tune with a simple ascending three note pattern. It’s a minor blues, with the melody making great use of the minor sixth on the tonic part of the progression. When the subtonic IV chord comes, the melody jumps to an 11th, a suspension which is like an electric shock in this context. After the obligatory return to the tonic, Grolnick uses a more or less conventional turnaround to complete the form of the tune.

Original Rays, another Brecker composition, is a showcase for the EWI (Electronic Wind Instrument), which was new at the time and had not yet worn out its welcome. In an unaccompanied introduction, Brecker does everything but make toast with the thing. The EWI has been programmed to play chords which correspond to specific notes, so Brecker achieves a very full sound. After the band joins in, Original Rays reveals itself to be a jaunty, happy sort of tune.

The album isn’t perfect however. The Cost Of Living, another Don Grolnick tune, is bathed in bathos. It’s fairly predictable and overly sentimental, not up to the quality standard of most of the record. Brecker, if he can hear me up in heaven (I hope), would surely disagree. He was on record as being envious of Grolnick’s ability to write simple tunes that were so economical that if you removed one note, you would destroy the tune. That is true of Cost Of Living, but I stand by my opinion.

Also, the cover of My One And Only Love, which didn’t appear on the original record but was added to the CD release, is the wrong kind of tune for Michael Brecker. With overly sentimental material, he falls prey to the wooziest sort of romanticism, and this is no exception. It’s like pouring a quart of pancake syrup on French toast.

If not for those two tunes, Michael Brecker’s debut as a leader would definitely rate a full five stars.