Forgotten Fantasies - Dave Liebman/Richie Beirach

Mar

22

Forgotten Fantasies - Dave Liebman/Richie Beirach

≡ Category: 1970s, Essential, Post Bop, Reviews |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

JAZZBO NOTES ESSENTIAL RECORDING

Rating:

True to it’s name, Dave Liebman and Richie Beirach’s masterpiece Forgotten Fantasies, possibly the greatest jazz duet recording of all time, has not been issued on CD yet and probably never will. This is a cultural high crime and if there is any justice at all, the folks at A&M Records will be held accountable for it in the next life.

Liebman (tenor sax/soprano sax/alto flute) and Beirach (piano) have a deep, deep thing going here. Liebman is fire, an emotional player who cries on his instrument, digging up torment from the very bottom of his soul. He’s taken the legacy of Coltrane and made it his own, using the master’s pentatonic lines and altissimo techniques for his own purposes. Beirach is ice, an intellectual player with a vast knowledge of harmony (his nickname is “The Code”), whose emotions are contained but very much present nonetheless.

Forgotten Fantasies starts off with October 10th, a gorgeous ballad by Beirach featuring Liebman’s wistful alto flute. The improvisation is fairly restrained, with the focus on lyricism. Liebman’s tone is reminiscent of Joe Farrell’s, one of the greatest flautists in jazz. Beirach’s role is mostly supportive here.

Repeat Performance, written by Liebman, begins with a pensive rubato introduction by Beirach. When Liebman enters on soprano, fed through an echoplex, the mood darkens and becomes more searching, almost as if combing through bitter memories and regrets, reflecting on some unnamed monumental loss. Liebman and Beirach feed off each other here, intensifying the feelings dredged up.

It becomes obvious that the whole of Forgotten Fantasies will be tinged with melancholy, and sure enough, the selections that follow effectively explore variations on this basic mood, taken at mostly slow to medium tempos. But as is often the case with fantasies, these ruminations take on the color of memory, which tends to shade the past in a gauzy romanticism, finding beauty even in, and maybe especially in the pain of loss.

And then at last we come face to face with the unvarnished truth that has to be reckoned with sooner or later. With Obsidian Mirrors, the 13 plus minute Beirach epic that ends the date, the blinders come off. With an uptempo rhythmic figure, Beirach serves notice that there will be no more evasions. Liebman gallops through the blasted landscape, refusing to turn away at even the ugliest of sights. Beirach matches him beat for beat.

And then they slow down to take the full measure of what has been lost. It’s here that Liebman digs deepest. As the agony intensifies, Liebman cries out in anguish on his horn, refusing self pity but not willing to let himself off the hook either, searching for some kind of catharsis that maybe, just maybe will lead to some kind of peace. The performance would wring tears from a heart of stone.

And then it’s back to the now transformed rhythmic figure, but now there is a kind of dark triumph reflected in Liebman’s horn of the knowledge gained in the battle with the blackest reaches of the soul. At last, the last possible drop of energy expended, the performers collapse in exhaustion and the tune ends.

I’ve gone to this much trouble telling you how great this date is so will buy it in LP form, even going to the trouble of purchasing a turntable if you don’t have one, so you can have the priviledge of hearing this great work of art.

By the way, once you buy the LP, it is possible to burn a CD from it, and for less money than you might think. See my post Taking Care of Your Old LPs - Transferring to CD Part 1 for more details.