There is a certain fragility and romantic melancholy
surrounding the sound of the flugelhorn in jazz. Place it within the context of
rippling acoustic guitar and saxophone, and murmuring bass and drums, and the
combination can be mesmerising. This is certainly the case with the John Bailey
Quintet’s album release “Black Ship Bright Sea”. Featuring original
material composed by guitarist John, the quintet features Richard Iles on
flugelhorn, Tim France on saxophone, Gavin Barras on double bass and Steve
Hanley on drums. Information on ASC records website reveals that,
“The compositional devices rely on
crossing of melodies between instruments and simultaneous melodies instead of
simple harmonized ones. Harmonically the movement of chords is not based particularly
on a usual system seen in jazz composition; the techniques are more in line
with those of Arvo Part, each note having absolute importance and all tones
present for a reason.”
What this, rather eloquently, describes is the
predominant feeling that these pieces are the product of both jazz and
twentieth century classical music influences. “Strength in Numbers” is a
sumptuous showcase for delicate nylon string guitar phrasing interwoven with
brooding flugelhorn, whilst “Sfumato” draws heavily on modern classic ambience
giving the music an altogether more enigmatic texture. There is, however, mischievousness
to tunes such as “Positive Thinking” and “Flight Path” which illustrate the freedom
of influences evident. “A Green Sun (I-IV)” features luxurious nylon string
guitar playing, drawing in Eastern European, Spanish and classical dialects,
emphasizing the poignancy that can be captured on this instrument within this
framework. Fluently drawing all the moods evoked together in the final short
piece “It’s A Strange World” underlines seamlessly the aesthetic at work on “
Black Ship Bright Sea”. Most certainly, music for the head and the heart.
As “Jazz Goes To Leeds” has claimed previously when
discussing the work of John Bailey, the music here will obviously be of
interest to anyone who has a fondness for the ECM/Rune Grammofon catalogue,
with it’s brooding Scandinavian nature. This, however, may be far too
simplistic a statement to make to fully understand the tracks that make up
“Black Ship Bright Sea”. There is the melancholy and scholarly aspect to these
pieces, but there is also a playfulness which sets it apart on its’ own to
produce an album of both intellect and mischief.
