So I am crazy, and enthusiastic. After having bought the "Trio X - 2006 US Tour", a 7-CD box, the mailman yesterday brought me the double LP "Live In Vilnius", also recorded in 2006, and issued in 500 numbered copies only (I got number 15, so I guess there must be some more copies available). Vilnius is the capital of Lithuania, one of the Baltic states in Europe, and one of the first releases by this brand-new jazz label, that also released two Mats Gustafsson albums so far, and that's it. Quality over quantity, an excellent choice I would say, but I guess they must be a little crazy too, and probably even more enthusiastic.

British bassist Barry Guy and Swedish saxophonist Mats Gustafsson have played together numerous times and released albums ranging from duets ("Frogging"), trios (with Raymond strid), quartet (with Strid and Marilyn Crispell) and in Guy's big band. Although Guy clearly comes from a more classical oriented approach to new music and free improv, and Gustafsson has a jazz background, they meet in the common region where instrumental skills and artistic vision meet to create unheard sounds, not as just an experimental gimmick but to tell deep and true musical stories, full of agony, intimacy, distress and friendship. This wonderful vinyl LP, which covers a performance of both musicians at St. Catherine’s Church in Vilnius, Lithuania in January of this year, is a brilliant testimony of how avant-garde can open new worlds of sound that evoke real deepfelt human emotions, that go back to primeval times while being entirely modern at the same time. The album starts with a short and soft, hesitating dialogue between sax and bass, then Gustafsson blows some of the most heart-piercing wails I've heard in a long time, crying his heart out, in full agony, only to calm down again to play some beautiful sweet tones as a wonderful contrast of different emotions all folded into one. The second track is a solo piece by Guy, a nice, almost bluesy improvisation, that unleashes all the inherent beauty that is the very nature of the bass's deep wooden tones, playing gliding chords, arpeggios and single string phrases while maintaining the focus of the tune's calm and resonating melody: sensitive and powerful. We're now eleven minutes further and these two tracks are already worth the purchase of the album. The third improvisation is a duo again, full of nervous tension and distress, with little notes fluttering about, eliciting some shouts of concentrated effort, raising the interaction to an almost physical dialogue. The B side has two ten-minute improvisations, one with Guy solo on bass, one again a duet with Gustafsson. The first starts with Guy's rapid alternating of arco and pizzi, scraping and plucking, getting so many different sounds out of his bass at any given time that you wonder how he does it. But again, the technique is by itself less relevant than the quality of the music, that switches from high intensity moments to more disciplined yet very dark and nervous sequences: an inhospitable universe he creates here, but one that is musically extremely attractive at the same time: raw, engulfing, overwhelming, pure. And Gustafsson joins this universe, fitting perfectly, with piercing screams alternated by deep brooding musings when Guy plays arco, moving to a close to silent intense dialogue in the middle part of the track, and when they turn up the intensity, both move as one, tearing your heart out in the process, figuratively and literally.

Some moments of this album will please instantly, other parts may need repeated listens before you come to appreciate it. There is no beauty without harshness, there is no sensitivity without brutality, now purity without rawness, no reality without sharp edges. And that contrast, or that truthfulness makes this a great album. And sinners have a story to tell, a little more than saints.

I have hesitated to give it a five star rate because it's the second vinyl from vilnius in a row to get this high appreciation, but they repeat what AUM Fidelity did last year: produce some stellar music.

© stef

David S. Ware
Live in Vilnius
No Business
2009

The year 2009 could be a rather big year for tenor saxophonist and improvising composer David S. Ware, and that's saying a lot. After all, Ware has long been one of the most celebrated figures in free jazz, owing not only to his work with artists like pianist Cecil Taylor and percussionists Andrew Cyrille and Beaver Harris, but also his longstanding quartet, which was founded in 1989 with pianist Matthew Shipp, bassist William Parker and percussionist Marc Edwards. Through drummer and label changes, Ware's quartet did imbue the avant-garde with an almost populist sensibility, a sonic imprint that was respected through numerous festival appearances and a short-lived contract with Columbia Records, where Ware's playing and the cohesiveness of his group had impressed A&R man Branford Marsalis.

Kluster and Friends - 1969-1973
6xLP Boxset
Qbico Records (Italy 2009)