Joy ride
The giddy pleasures of Bobby Previte
BY ED HAZELL
There's something charming about drummer Bobby Previte's musical excesses. The
eccentricities, the complexities, and the high energy of his music never seem
calculated or confrontational. His repertoire sounds like the honest
expressions of a man who's never gotten over how much fun it is to make
music. His two latest releases are as different as can be, but each finds him
capering at the cutting edge. Mainly composed, 23 Constellations of Joan
Miró (Tzadik) is a gorgeous programmatic suite of short pieces
suggested by the paintings of the great Catalan Surrealist. Just Add
Water (Palmetto), by his quintet, Bump the Renaissance, is a loose blowing
session that's hustled along by an antic jazz-rock beat. Whether he's writing a
complex, multilayered composition for chamber ensemble or madly charging along
with his small-band jazz, the giddy pleasure Previte takes in the sensual
details of the music is intoxicating and contagious.
He's always vacillated between controlled ensemble writing with integrated
soloing and more loosely structured or even free settings. His Gramavision
albums of the late '80s and early '90s reveled in quirky instrumentation,
especially 1988's Claude's Late Morning. These funky
minimalism-meets-jazz confections piled on thick layers of hooks and riffs that
bobbed and collided over deep grooves, providing an asymmetric latticed
foundation for the soloists. His writing for smaller groups like the Bump the
Renaissance quintet balanced writing with improvisation, though he could never
deny his arranger's urge for clever charts that got the most out of a few
instruments. In more loosely structured groups like his organ-combo "bar band"
Latin for Travelers, or free settings, like the funky West Coast collective
quartet Ponga, Previte has shown a talent for propelling a band while
orchestrating his own playing to fit each soloist.
23 Constellations of Joan Miró forms an audio analogue to the
thin meandering lines that barely seem substantial enough to hold the boldly
colored abstract images of animals, men, and women in Miró's little
dramas. Scored for two trumpets, soprano sax, flute, bass clarinet, harp,
keyboards and other electronics, accordion, percussion, and trap kit, the
nearly two dozen short pieces (none is longer than three minutes) have a
similar lightness that belies their strength. They are by turns dark and
forbidding, translucently opalescent, whimsical, sexy, ambiguous, spiritual,
and regal. Previte's melodies sometimes suggest figures -- like the sexy sway
of the ensemble and the birdlike flute during "Woman and Birds." And just as
Miró found endless possibilities in a limited visual vocabulary of line,
primary colors, and simple shapes, Previte's resourceful orchestrations combine
and recombine the playing of an octet of downtown New York City luminaries
(including Ned Rothenberg, Jane Ira Bloom, Ralph Alessi, and Jamie Saft) to
yield a constantly shifting variety of forms and feelings. It's the sort of
music that reveals new details in its orchestration -- the eerie marimba,
gongs, and harp on "Woman in the Night," or the ascending motifs played by the
trumpets, vibes, and electronics on "Escape Ladder" -- with each new listen.
Just Add Water is just as life-affirming as Constellations, but
in a totally different way. It's a joyful record that flows with such
effortless good spirit that you might overlook Previte's deft compositional
touches on tunes like "Everything I Want" and "Leave Here Now." Trombonist Ray
Anderson is the band's live wire: his trombone whoops and hollers with an
excess of happiness almost from the start of his solo on "Put Away Your
Crayons," and he mutters and sputters through his horn like a tipsy Donald Duck
on "53 Maserati." Tenor-saxophonist Marty Ehrlich is given to more deliberate
development of his solos, but he's full of fire on this session, soloing with a
muscular melodic logic and a full throaty sound on "Stingray." Electric-bassist
Steve Swallow is the band's deadpan wit, with lines that slip away from you
when you least expect it, only to return and groove solidly in the pocket.
Keyboardist Wayne Horvitz is a self-effacing ensemble player, yet his comping
is always exactly what's needed even though he's apt to take the road less
traveled when it's time to solo.
And Previte buoys the band throughout -- on "53 Maserati" and "All Hail Kirby,"
his jazz-rock beat lifts the group to new heights. He roots out the bombast
that makes so much fusion tedious, instead relying on the sheer pleasure of the
groove, which he keeps flexible and pliant in a distinctly jazzy way. Despite
its obvious formal differences with 23 Constellations, Just Add Water
is nothing short of a joy ride, with Previte at the wheel and the tires
barely touching the ground.
Issue Date: February 22 - 28, 2002
|