Mark Shim

Ever since that benediction, I’ve been anxiously awaiting Mark Shim’s first album as a leader, and now that "Mind Over Matter" is here, I have to give Betty her props: the man can play. His debut is poised, self-assured, and ambitious. The 24-year-old tenorman benefits from some high-voltage support: Geri Allen on piano--the glue that holds the various figures in this musical diorama together--fellow Carter veteran Curtis Lundy on bass, David Fiuczynski on guitar, and Eric Harland and Ralph Peterson splitting drum duty. The group’s sound is raw, edgy, and angular, a perfect fit for Shim’s loose, moody compositions.

Much to his credit, Shim does not force himself upon his listener by indulging in overlong solos or putting himself too far forward in the mix. Instead, he hangs back a little, leaving plenty of room for his colleagues--most spectacularly Fiuczynski--to roam free. Shim’s subdued tone, vaguely reminiscent of Joe Henderson, is a far cry from the big, biting attack that our ears have come to expect from listening to John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins. It’s as if Shim doesn’t need to shout to be heard, and given the crowded, noisy marketplace created by the profusion of other young-turk tenors (Joshua Redman, James Carter, Javon Jackson, and Davíd Sanchez, to name a few) this is a very shrewd move. Shim’s strengths--imaginative phrasing, unpredictable lines, rhythmic complexity, unorthodox harmonies--are like a favorite vacation destination: tricky to find at first, completely different from what you’re used to, and best when revisited again and again.

"Mind Over Matter" is an impressive debut. Shim’s sophomore effort could use a few more memorable tunes, and I’m curious to see how he handles more standards: the album's lone foray into the classic jazz repertoire is a version of Mingus’ “Remember Rockefeller at Attica,” a three-minute romp that involves “vocalist” Fiuczynski screaming his head off while guitar and saxophone wail like banshees--arresting, but hardly revelatory. Shim’s originals, especially the churning, probing “The Chosen Ones” and the plaintive “Snake Eyes,” are thought-provoking, but they are not as memorable as they might be. “Oveida,” a lovely contribution from Lundy, provides more fertile musical soil for soloists to delve into, and Peterson’s “Dumplin’” is eminently more hummable. Shim forces the listener to meet him on his own turf: a bit daunting perhaps, but very rewarding for those willing to accept the challenge.--Andrew Clevenger

As a leader, Blade is just as compelling. He assembled a cadre of friends in Oxnard, California, and the "Brian Blade Fellowship" was the result. The involvement of uber-producer Daniel Lanois--who has also worked with Harris and Dylan--guarantees an excess of atmosphere, and sure enough, as soon as I put the album on, the barometer started rising. Marked by sonic density and hypnotic rhythms, Lanois’ projects have a certain cinematic feel--I reckon' y’all remember he did the soundtrack to "Sling Blade"--and "BBF" is no exception. It sounds like the music that plays in all those stupid road/heist movies when the Christian Slater/Ewan MacGregor drifter and the Patricia Arquette/Cameron Diaz kidnappee stop bantering and lapse into moody silence, staring out the car window as the miles roll by.

Except that "BBF" actually has some depth to it: rather than representing vacuous introspection, it is exploratory and meditative. Blade’s drumming style--which involves playing the beat on the cymbals, thereby freeing the drums for more dynamic statements--has the same thrilling effect as Elvin Jones’ work with Coltrane in the early 1960s. Blade, bassist Christopher Thomas (who also played on "Spirit of the Moment"), and keyboardist Jon Cowherd create a foundation that is at once light-handed and rock-solid, and the other instrumentalists range far afield. The rest of the lineup includes two saxophones (Melvin Butler on soprano and tenor, Myron Walden on alto) and two guitars (Jeff Parker on electric and acoustic, Dave Easley on pedal steel), an excess of rhythm instruments, with wide-open expanses for soloing. Blade’s buddies make the most of it, especially Butler and Walden, whose swirling lines mesh and intertwine until they become almost indistinguishable.

Blade--who composed all the songs except one--doesn’t take a proper solo until well into the album's third number, “Folklore,” which begins with a mesmerizing polyrhythmic chant that could be a Native American ritual, and then moves effortlessly into a restless, searching mode reminiscent of “Blue Trane.” His solo is concise, compact, and exciting: one gets the sense that Blade is a man who listens more than he talks. Fortunately for him, "Brian Blade Fellowship" speaks volumes.--Andrew Clevenger



RL Burnside
"Rollin' & Tumblin'"
(Bong Load Custom Records)

Did somebody say "git down?" Because that's exactly what you'll do when you spin RL Burnside's new disc. Who would have thought a well-respected septuagenarian on the critically purist Fat Possum Label would end up having his Mississippi raunch blues remixed into a dance record?

Produced and remixed by Tom Rothrock and Rob Schnapf, this CD5 features the added organ work of Plastilina Mosh's Alejandro Rosso and beats by Joe Ranieri. The raw material was taken from the Fat Possum/Epitaph release "Mr. Wizard" and features three remixes of "Rollin' & Tumblin'," a remix of "Going Down South," and a story told by Burnside with accompaniment entitled "Sht Bug."

I was skeptical when I played this record for the first time, but after another listen I was hooked. After all, dancing and blues music have always gone together, and Tom Rothrock has done a fine job of interpreting Burnside's style into a club music format. This CD could break down some barriers and expose a new audience to the blues--hey it's possible, I've never owned a techno record in my life and now I have one. If I ever entertain some club kids, this is what I'm going to put on.

The first remix of "Rollin' & Tumblin'" starts off with a classic bass drum beat with several loops of RL's & Kenny Brown's slide guitar work and the haunting echo of RL singing "you gotta move..., " and then moves into a '70s disco beat with the original version still pretty much intact. The AJM3 remix has some funky organ contributed by Alejandro Rosso. This version is more cut and dry, with a disco beat and additional Latin percussion by Joe Ranieri. Burnside's and Brown's guitars were taken out and the vocals were treated with some special sauce including several "hey, heys" (picture some arm waving) and repeatedly sampled phrases. "Going Down South" has some great beats on it, finally letting Cedric Burnside's drumming come through. This is the best track in my opinion because Cedric Burnside is such a solid, soulful drummer. More keyboards and vocals overlaid on top of each other give this version a trippy effect. "Sht Bug" is one of the tall tales RL is famous for and he can be heard laughing hysterically at his own humor. This has slowed-down backing music on it and cricket noises, which I could do without. Finally, the best comes last: the original version of "Rollin' & Tumblin'." This is complete funk and there's no better song to dance to. The only flaw I found was in the liner notes, where they credit the drums to Joe Ranieri--it is clearly RL's grandson, Cedric Burnside laying down the beat on the original version.

I highly recommend this to dance fans looking for something new and to open-minded blues fans, but I doubt that Burnside himself will be welcoming the X and spandex crowd to sit on his porch anytime soon--Jimmy Nations