Dave Douglas
Strange Liberation

The inspiration, which seems explicit from the very title (taken from a quote by Martin Luther King about the US intervention in Vietnam: "They must see Americans as strange liberators" with an obvious nod to recent history) might generate the anticipation of sharp sounds and structures.

Close to those that the talented jazz musician from New Jersey has adopted on other occasions throughout the rich journey embarked upon for about 25 years.

A journey that places his trumpet at the top of the jazz scene for over a decade, for quality and wealth of sounds and inspirations. For articulating a style expressed in different contexts, starting from collaborations such as those with Horace Silver, in the late 1980s, and then, naming just a few, with Tim Berne, Don Byron, Anthony Braxton, Joe Lovano. Also finding placement in the phenomenal Masada project of John Zorn.

A journey that reveals the identity of a musician whose solid technical foundations and excellent stylistic mark often serve the exploration of new sound territories and expressive possibilities, not shying away from blends between improvisation and electronics, or the composition of contemporary music.

But the album I am listening to again these days (released in 2004) despite the reference contained in the title, seems, when addressing a "speech" the political implications of which remain implied, to favor reflective and allusive tones, following a personal reinterpretation of the vast "landscape" it immerses in. With particular reference to the golden period of Miles Davis in the late sixties, as often happens with the works released by his quintet. It also allows the realization of what Douglas himself declares was a dream since the late '80s: the collaboration with Bill Frisell.

So the formation - Chris Potter (tenor sax, bass clarinet) James Genus (double bass, electric bass) Clarence Penn (drums, percussion) - also characterized in sound by the refined performance provided by Uri Caine on the Fender Rhodes, intersects very well with Frisell's guitar.

In addition to the quality of the tracks, always characterized by a certain balance between composition and improvisation, in this case in favor of a greater "accessibility" not lacking in moments truly of high class, it is precisely the perfect blend of the sonorities that marks the identity of this work.

If the presence of Frisell's strings evokes instantaneously, for example in "Mountains From The Train," the vast and at times desolate expanse of a sonic landscape that hints at his reinterpretation of the American heritage (but with commendable measure and perfect integration with the partners), the ductile and punctual rhythm section supports both the resulting rarefaction and the more articulated plots which, as in the excellent "Seventeen," the group is able to propose. Often, then, it is Caine's measured calligraphy that emerges clearly as an element of further elegance, in a work that releases a general atmosphere of slight estrangement, a crossroads of moods. Never pushed to paroxysm, but rather investigated with attention to detail.

As in the long track that gives the album its title, with its expansive and refined writing.

Then moving from the anguish that snakes through "Just Say This" (one of my favorite tracks) to the lively almost swinging vein of "Rock of Billy," to the liquid and thoroughly enjoyable "Rhodes heart" of "The Jones."

The last track, "The Catalyst," is entrusted to a funky pulse from which Douglas's trumpet emerges, from the splendid opening.

Positioning itself on the more "accessible" side of his output, Strange Liberation proves to be a great opportunity to meet a musician destined to leave other significant traces of his passage. Traces that will remain well imprinted in the history of jazz in these years, as the subsequent "Mountain Passages," in 2005, further demonstrated.

But that's another album, isn't it, Hal?

Enjoy listening.