Lickity Split - Vanguard Jazz Orchestra

Mar

11

Lickity Split - Vanguard Jazz Orchestra

≡ Category: 1990s, Essential, Post Bop, Progressive Big Band, Reviews |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

JAZZBO NOTES ESSENTIAL RECORDING

Rating:

I’m going to make a sweeping generalization. Jim McNeely is the best big band composer and orchestra working today. I first became aware of Jim McNeely’s big band writing on the phenomenal East Coast Blow Out, which featured the WDR big band, with John Scofield as the principal soloist. On that release, I heard an entirely original approach to big band writing which blew me out of my socks.

The Vanguard Jazz Orchestra used to be called the Mel Lewis and the Jazz Orchestra until Lewis’ death in 1990. The orchestra was lucky enough to be able to appoint Jim McNeely as the composer in residence.

This particular CD, Lickity Split, consists almost entirely of Jim McNeely compositions, with the exception of In The Wee Small House of the Morning. McNeely’s compositions and arrangements are as mind boggling as ever.

On Extra Credit, the album opener, McNeely takes the unusual approach of using the drum part as the central focus, starting with rhythmic motifs and appending harmonic and solo sections as needed. The form, as is the standard practice for McNeely, is brutally complex. He starts with three separate sections, A-B-C, then adds a IIm7-V7 solo vamp. In the next iteration, he omits the A part, adds a D part, and transposes the solo vamp up a half step. And so on, throughout the composition.

The Vanguard Jazz Orchestra pulls this off like it’s nothing. And the soloists are killer: Rich Perry on tenor sax, Ed Neumeister on trombone, McNeely himself on piano, and Scott Wendholt on trumpet. How come I’ve never heard of most of these guys?

Probably my least favorite of the pieces is Thad, which not surprisingly is based on a number of Thad Jones’ compositions, reharmonized and reworked. Even though the composition is up to McNeely’s usual skill level, it is based on Thad’s ideas, which to me are not nearly as exciting as McNeely’s own.

The little known standard In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning is rendered almost unrecognizable, thanks to McNeely’s decision to reharmonize it by making the root motion a whole tone below the original. Dick Oatts contributes a flavorful solo on alto sax on this one.

Then we get the deeply nutty title tune, Lickity Split. The best explanation for this one is Jim McNeely’s own. He asked himself “What if the baritone saxophone player in James Brown’s band starded to o.d. on Woody Shaw, Sun Ra, and Witold Lutoslawski?” That someone would even think to ask such a question makes me want to bow down in awe. The tune is a mix of 12 tone technique and funk vamps. It is utterly original and just as cool. Gary Smulyan contributes the killer baritone sax solo.

Alright, so we’ve established that Jim McNeely is an innovator who can effortlessly execute wild concepts that would never occur to anyone else. But can he pull off lyricism? McNeely answers that question with Absolution. True to it’s name, it has a meditative feel that steadily becomes more intense as the tune progresses. The rhythmic cycles become shorter and shorter, spilling over and collapsing on one another until the itself form collapses, paving the way for a final solo statement from tenor saxophonist Rich Perry.

Sticks was obviously developed as a piece for trombone. The tune has a quiet intensity, with outbursts by trombonist Ed Neumeister, utilizing a straight-mute/plunger set-up, alternating with ensemble sections for the orchestra. The tonal palette for this piece is rather dissonant, but never in a way that’s harsh, but rather registers as mysterious and tense.

I could go on, but you get the idea. There really aren’t any duds on the album.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that anyone who gives a damn about modern big band music should own Lickity Split.