Kieran Hebden & Steve Reid’s Exchange Sessions, Volume I, and a Free Jazz Primer.

I’m pleased to have as a guest today Chilly Jay Chill, one of the two proprietors of the new and bound to be great Destination: Out Free Jazz music blog I mentioned two days too early here. He graciously accepted my offer to give his thoughts on Volume I of the Kieran Hebden/Steve Reid collaboration The Exchange Sessions, and perhaps more importantly he has given us an extended primer on an underappreciated and misunderstood but massively deep and amazing genre of music. He’s an effective and knowledgable writer, if for no other reason than he managed to address three of my main concerns about the music. For this post, artists in bold type have mp3 at the end of the post. For later, Destination: Out will have twice weekly updates to satisfy the interest you (will) no doubt have.

—–

Hey. I’m here to talk about the new Kieran Hebden/Steve Reid Exchange Sessions. You know, the collaboration between the guy from Four Tet and the esteemed jazz drummer who’s released a few albums on Soul Jazz. They’ve put out two volumes of The Exchange Sessions so far and they’re both far more interesting than the gimmicky electronica-meets-free jazz tag might lead you to believe.

It’s easy to imagine these albums serving as a gateway drug for folks curious about the wide and wild world of Free Jazz. So before we dive into the Hebden/Reid efforts, let’s dispel a few common misconceptions about Free Jazz (aka Avant Garde Jazz aka Out Jazz aka That Horrible Racket).

1. IT’S ALL JUST CACOPHONOUS NOISE.

Well yeah, some of it is really noisy. That’s the strain of the music that’s influenced Sonic Youth, Black Dice, The Boredoms, Wolf Eyes, The Stooges, Lightning Bolt, MC5, and the like. Think of it as ecstatic freak-out music. The sort of thing that will peel back the lid of your skull and rearrange your atoms. BUT that’s only one small part of the music. Free Jazz spans 50 years and numerous countries and includes music that’s so delicate it’s practically ambient as well as tunes with a funk beat strong enough to shake the dance floor. Not to mention the pieces that showcase echoes of melodic folk music, Indian rhythms, minimalist repetitions, gutbucket blues, Hendrixian squalls, orchestral grandeur, big band exotica, electronic beats, proto-punk swagger, and much more. It’s an entire continent of sound represented by tens of thousands of albums and approaches. Once you start digging, you’ll be amazed by the sheer variety and vitality of the genre. There’s something for just about every taste – all you need is a slightly open mind.

2. I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LISTEN TO FREE JAZZ. OR: HOW DO YOU TELL THE GOOD STUFF FROM THE BAD?

My advice: Relax and trust your instincts. Most people automatically assume that there’s something in Free Jazz they’re not getting. Like you need conservatory training to appreciate what the musicians are doing. Or that there’s some secret content you’re not privy to. Nonsense. It’s just sound. Sometimes complex and abrasive, sometimes funky and buoyant. There’s no code to be broken. Don’t worry. As Gertrude Stein once said: “There’s no there there.”

A newcomer listening to Free Jazz isn’t substantially different than someone who’s just discovering indie rock or electronica or reggae or whatever. The more you listen, the more you explore, the more you expose yourself to different facets of the music, the more likely you are to find what you turns you on. Maybe Ornette Coleman grates on your ears. Fine. Be honest with yourself and keep looking because maybe Sun Ra or Matthew Shipp will really float your boat. Ask friends. See what trustworthy critics are recommending. All that.

And – if you can – try to see some Free Jazz live. There’s nothing like experiencing this music in person. Pieces that may demand a fair amount of concentration when they’re coming out of your speakers often seem effortlessly absorbing live. You may rush to turn off a Cecil Taylor album the first time you hear it, but live you won’t be able to take your eyes off the man. In performance, the passion and exuberance of the music is impossible to miss. It may help make sense of musicians that you once found too strange. If you’re out in the boonies, live DVDs aren’t a bad substitute.

3. IT’S TOO OUT THERE FOR ME.

Maybe. But if you’re already listening to some pretty out shit like Radiohead, Sonic Youth, Mouse on Mars, Aphex Twin, Madlib, Mission of Burma, DJ Shadow, Antipop Consortium, ambient-era Brian Eno, TV on the Radio, and even some parts of Yo La Tengo, then you’re ready. Without knowing it, you’ve already been listening to Free Jazz filtered through other sensibilities. Some of the Free Jazz canon might even sound too tame!

If you’re worried about buying Free Jazz that sounds too immediately foreign to your ears, do a little research before wading in. If you want something with a direct rock and funk influence, start with any of Miles Davis’ great electric music from the 1970s. Want something electronic-tinged? Herbie Hancock’s propulsive Sextant and Craig Taborn’s mysterioso Junk Magic are both excellent. Need screaming electric guitars? Sonny Sharrock is your man. A Kraut-rock drone vibe? The title track of Don Cherry’s Brown Rice will floor you. Indian trance music with a strong groove? Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda. Haunted ambient soundscapes? George Lewis’s Homage to Charles Parker. Freak-folk? Patty Waters’ ESP recordings will be a revelation. And on and on.

—-

So finally: The Exchange Sessions. If you’re a Four Tet fan then there’s a good chance you’ll dig this. The first volume in particular. The tracks may be longer than usual, but the overall vibe isn’t all that different from Everything Ecstatic or even Rounds. Throughout, Hebden deploys his usual distinctive array of chimes, bells, birdsong, backwards keyboard loops, gamelan percussion and knob-twiddling bleats.

Steve Reid’s contributions are more subtle. Truth be told, this guy isn’t one for the Free Jazz pantheon. He’s not, say, Milford Graves or Sunny Murray or Billy Higgins. Reid made a handful of worthwhile albums in the ‘70s that melded avant garde jazz with soul and funk. But they were nothing that shook the stratosphere. However, Reid’s thick resume includes stints with musicians as varied as Sun Ra, James Brown, Sam Rivers, Fela Kuti, Dionne Warwick, and Fats Domino. So the guy obviously knows how to adapt to just about any situation. That flexibility is his greatest asset here. His drumming meshes beautifully with whatever Hebden throws at him. Reid never overplays and patiently pounds out simple cymbal patterns, unobtrusive tribal beats, and off-kilter rhythms depending on what’s called for.

Reid’s playing here reminds of a story Brian Eno tells about the echo modulator he developed in the early 70s. Most of the guitar players he gave it to tried to show off and played so many notes that the machine mashed them all together and made everything sound like shit. Robert Fripp was the only guitarist who had the patience to listen to what the machine was doing and play slowly enough so that echo modulator actually enhanced his sound, creating something new and ethereal. Reid seems to hear the inherent possibilities in combining electronics and jazz drums and reigns in his playing so that the concept can more fully flower.

The best track here is the first: “Morning Prayer” samples what sounds like a middle eastern flute over an array of chimes and bells and bird sounds. Reid’s flashing cymbals beat out a steady pulse. The track builds a steady meditative mood, a hypnotically churning sea of rumbling rhythms and gauzy textures that is occasionally punctured by a bracing squawk or squeal. It would sound right at home on Everything Ecstatic.

“Soul Oscillations” is dicier. At 14 minutes, it takes too long to develop. Hebden really pushes himself into new territory but his arsenal of warped blips and bleeps grows thin in the process. It’s mainly Reid’s drumming that keeps the track alive. Even the chaotic freak-out at the end feels more perfunctory than cathartic. Not bad but very much a work in progress.

“Electricity and Drum Will Change Your Mind” is longer but works better. It opens with a shimmering Terry Riley inspired keyboard drone and immediately starts building toward the climax. Hebden samples a keening musette-like horn and slowly adds a froth of burbling feedback to the mix. Reid answers with a stutter-step rhythm that puts the track back on firm footing and then steadily ups the tempo. It’s a thrilling match of push-and-pull. From there the track slowly ebbs, fragments of the initial keyboard drone washing ashore as the drums tap out a pulse as steady and unforgiving as the tide.

As for the second volume of The Exchange Sessions, it sees Reid stepping more into the spotlight and Hebden working hard to approximate the transcendent saxophone blowouts of John Coltrane and Albert Ayler by pushing his glitchy textures into abrasive new registers. It’s an interesting continuation with its own distinct pitfalls and pinnacles. But that’s another story for later time.

—-

Kieran Hebdan & Steve Reid “Morning Prayer” (mp3) (buy)

Alice Coltrane “Journey In Satchidananda” (mp3) from Journey In Satchidananda (1970) (buy)

Herbie Hancock “Raindance” (mp3) from Sextant (1972) (buy)

Sonny Sharrock “Kula-Mae” (mp3) from Guitar (1986) (buy)

—-

Bonus Four Tet:

Slag Boom Van Loon “Sutedja (Four Tet remix)” (mp3) from the So Soon 12″ (2001) (buy)

Four Tet “Field” (mp3) from Classic Plant (Leaf Records compilation) (1998) (buy) (This is often referred to as his first appearance on CD)