The Ultimate Adventure - Chick Corea

Jan

26

The Ultimate Adventure - Chick Corea

≡ Category: 2000s, Reviews, World Fusion, Worth A Listen |
≅ Written by: Michael Kydonieus

WORTH A LISTEN

Rating:

Chick Corea is a bit of a puzzle to me. If you listen to any of his recent records, it’s obvious that he has not lost any of his chops. He plays as well as he ever has. But for a long time now, he has exhibited weird lapses in taste, both in terms of composition and aural choices. Sometimes he’ll opt for the cheesiest synth tones imaginable. I know that Corea comes by his connection with Latin music honestly (he spent years with the bands of Mongo Santamaria and Willie Bobo), but sometimes his Latin themes are so cutesy, it makes you want to scream in frustration.

The Ultimate Adventure (on Stretch Records) presents yet another warning sign — it was inspired by the literary output of L. Ron Hubbard. Paradoxically, that works out well because Corea uses a variety of musical approaches to bring various aspects of Hubbard’s fictional world to life. There’s Latin influences, of course, but there’s also Arabic and Rock elements as well.

Three Ghouls, a suite which opens the date, is a case in point. The first part features a fugue-like piano arpeggiation which eventually syncs up with a flute countermelody played by Hubert Laws. It has an Arabic meets Bach feel. I could do without the windchimes, which are evocative of new age music, but it’s still pretty neat. That segues into part two, a modern jazz chord sequence with a pretty melody doubled by the flute and keyboards. Thankfully, Corea is playing Fender Rhodes here. The improvisation is laid back but tasteful, in keeping with the low key feel of the track. The third part is a fusion of the first two, with palmas (handclaps) as an added touch. So far, so good. Three Ghouls doesn’t exactly knock you on your ass, but it’s interesting and pleasant.

City of Brass begins with a more explicitly Spanish mode, with Chick and Laws noodling around in an introductory rubato passage. Soon enough, hand drums introduce a Moorish rhythm. Interestingly, bassist Carlos Benavent does a little slapping, introducing some R&B flavor into the groove. He also contributes virtoistic runs in the background.

The first annoyance is Queen Tedmur, in which Corea indulges in the martial drums/Spanish modes combination he’s been pushing since 1978’s Tap Step. I dunno. It always struck me as corny and programmatic. On this tune, he introduces Tim Garland on bass clarinet, which helps to break the monotony. It’s not that the playing on this track is bad. I suppose I’m annoyed on principle.

Then El Stephen starts, and suddenly, I identify the source of my discomfort. Often times, these days, Chick Corea’s compositions seem forced, artificially complicated. They don’t develop naturally. They’re 95% perspiration, 5% inspiration. That’s not good. Maybe that’s why Corea has been using L. Ron Hubbard as a muse lately.

The rest of The Ultimate Adventure is much the same. You’ll be enjoying some of the playing, an apt musical phrase here and there, appreciating the obvious craft that went into the arrangments, and then it will hit you — Chick Corea is relying on his usual compositional tics. It doesn’t matter how much he tries to elaborately disguise it with different instrumentation, and ever more elaborate forms. The excellent musicianship of drummer Steve Gadd, percussionist Airto Moreira, and guitarist Frank Gambale (surprisingly effective on his solos) is often wasted in this setting.

I sympathise with Corea. It’s really kind of unfair. You would think a musician’s work would improve with age. With practice, you tend to improve, right? And in a technical sense, that’s often true, or at least until old age takes it’s toll. But what’s missing is the sense of the new. When you’re young, everything is new. From the time that Chick Corea started issuing recordings under his own name, he produced masterpiece after masterpiece in post bop, free jazz, the avant guarde, Brazilian jazz, and fusion. Everything sounded fresh. Corea had a good long run — about ten years. After than, an odd sort of calcification started to set in, which has persisted up until now.

At this point, maybe Chick Corea should be looking elsewhere other than the works of L. Ron Hubbard for inspiration. How about being a sideman on other people’s projects? Nothing brings out Corea’s selflessness and professionalism better than his work as a sideman. Maybe that will help recharge his creative batteries.

Chick Corea is one of the greatest keyboardists, composers, and bandleaders of the 20th century. It really bothers me to see him floundering around like he does on The Ultimate Adventure.

There may be a lot to admire and enjoy about The Ultimate Adventure, but there’s a staleness that creeps into the project that ultimately spoils it for me.