Avishai Cohen
1970

Before writing this review, I waited for some time and several listens because Avishai Cohen is one of the most interesting and creative bassists and composers in the global jazz scene.

The already reviewed on this board “Gently Disturbed” from 2008 is, for me, definitely a masterpiece of the modern era regarding the double bass/piano/drums trio, you know what I mean.

In 2017, the Israeli jazz bassist/double bassist released “1970,” an album that is claimed to be “not exactly jazz.”

And it is sung.

By Cohen himself.

After closing my eyes and breathing deeply, I set out in search of the album featuring Itamar Doari (percussion and vocals), a drummer in the Trio, singer Karen Malka, Yael Shapira (cello and vocals), Elyashaf Bishari (oud, baritone guitar, vocals), Jonathan Daskal (keyboards), and Tal Kohavi (drums).

Five covers and seven original compositions.

Let's start with the covers.

The first is “Se’i yona,” which I discovered to be a popular Yemeni song, already recorded by Ofra Haza, where Bishari's oud and Cohen's acoustic bass stand out. The second is “For no one” by the duo Lennon-McCartney (from the 1966 album “Revolver”), and the effect is minimalist, with Daskal's didactic piano, precise and incisive voice, and a small double bass movement to conclude. No offense to the baronet, but Cohen made a better version, in my opinion. The third is “Motherless Child,” that is, “Sometimes I feel like a Motherless Child,” probably written a century before the album title (around 1870), enriched with string orchestration, maintaining the gospel spirit and giving it a funky connotation. The album also features “Oh Buon Dio,” an Italian translation of “Oi va voi,” an electro-rock Jewish-English group based in London. The song in question is “D’ror Yikra,” the reinterpretation does not lose the importance of percussion and maintains the harmonic minor setting but undoubtedly gains in taste and technical skill. The last “latin-piece” is by Puerto Rican-American Eddie Palmieri, “Vamonos P’al Monte,” which loses some of its salsa-rock spirit but favorably increases in soul, thanks to the important bass line.

Let's move on to the original compositions.

In “Song of Hope,” we are absolutely in a musical context of the '70s. Wah-wah, keyboards in vibes, and a 4/4 time signature with drums doubling only on the hi-hat. The song of hope has a pleasant text, but nothing shocking or unheard of.

A love track in blues mode is “My Lady” with a “vocal” bass that brings a smile, while in “Move on,” still in love-mood, it expresses the pain for the classic “let's move on,” where the pianistic fortification allows the bass, oud, and cello to emerge tastefully. “Ha’ahava” is literally translated as “Love” and talks about the love the world needs in this historical period (which somewhat relates to “Song of Hope” in the content).

Soul à la “Seal” (nice wordplay, right?) in “It's been so long,” a beautiful interplay of voices between Cohen's depth and Karen Malka's delicacy, while “Emptiness” has the verse and instrumental part set on a dynamic 5/8, resulting in the most convincing track of the work.

The most pop composition of the album is “Blinded,” with simple bass and guitar solos and the introduction of electronics.

I kept “Blinded” in a separate paragraph to use the word “pop” because this is “1970.” It's a literally POP(ular) album, no negative connotation, but it's not what I expected from a “not exactly jazz.” Yes, it hints at jazz, that's true, at funk, Latin-American, Israel, through the language and harmonic and instrumental use (see the oud), but I did not expect a pop turn after “From Darkness.”

An indisputably well-produced album (Jay Newland is no fool), excellently played, and well sung (from this perspective, Cohen was definitely a positive revelation, showcasing a deep and expressive timbre), but it is a radio-friendly shift, which I hope is not a “shift,” but merely an artistic whim that the artist from Kabri wanted to indulge in after 20 years of recordings.