Having already been delighted by Tobin‘s masterful odyssey through the more progressive realms, I have at least some understanding of how his brain works. This is a person who doesn’t really see the demarcations of music genres, or if he does, he sees them merely as vague, blurred lines, liminal locations where musical worlds meet. And it is in and around those sonic edgelands that he makes musical camp, tradition and purity at his back, his face turned to adventure and possibility.
And jazz is the natural place to find someone with such an attitude. It is a genre, along with blues and perhaps soul, that is all about re-interpretation. Oddly, in other areas, pop and rock, for example, taking and reworking another’s song is seen as, at best, an easy ride, at worst, the desecration of sacred works of musical art. That could be because the denizens of those genres still don’t have knack for doing it or understand the joy and potential that is derived; maybe they are too precious about their music.
Here, though, Tobin is in his element. An album of standards, well-known pieces that have been re-imagined, re-interpreted, and re-birthed by someone who understands the concept of re-interpretation and someone happy to call on elements from outside the genre to add new dimensions to the music.
I might not be the most jazz-o-centric person, but even I recognise the first two numbers immediately. The album starts with a cool rendition of Duke Ellington’s iconic Take The “A” Train, a swathe of liquid organs, hushed yet busy percussion and bubbling bass lines. It is spacious and atmospheric, allowing plenty of room for each instrument to wander, explore and adventure as it sees fit.
Superstition is a bigger, brassier affair, capturing both the magic and mystery of the subject and the wide-screen potential for such a song to let loose. The result is a piece that wanders between those two places, spiralling into introspection, rising into breezy, brassy crescendos, shot through with rock guitar salvos and jazz ornateness.
But the album, of course, is more than the obvious jazz picks or more commercial songs, though there is a really cool take on my favourite Beatles song, Eleanor Rigby, which was great to hear. Weather Report gets a look in with Birdland, which is more than appropriate – the band that took jazz fusion to new heights and perhaps secured the role of synthesisers and organs over the more expected piano in such music.
Hats are tipped to Monk and Bernstein, as they should be, but there is room for a delicate and drifting take on Herbie Hancock’s Watermelon Man and Frank Zappa’s King Kong. The album proper ends with a suitably chilled version of Hoagy Carmicheal’s Stardust. After which, three bonus songs from outside the jazz realms, including James Taylor and Bob Dylan, continue your listening pleasure.
A great album; what else did you expect? Jazz is being explored and taken to its broadest, highest and deepest potential. If you are going to put your spin on the work of others, you need to justify making such a recording; you have to bring something genuinely new to the table. And if you are not sure what that might sound like, Tobin Mueller has set the benchmark and template for you here. So just play it, and play it again, and again, and again…
[…] is less than comprehensive. But having found my way here by using his previous prog fusion and jazz standards arrangements as stepping stones, I feel that I know Tobin’s music well enough that I am not […]