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The desire to delve into the contemporaneity of jazz pushed me to get this latest work from the award-winning duo Metheny-Burton. The two are now like father and son, or, if you prefer, brothers. They return to work together, after the first live performances of the '70s, "Reunion" and "Like Minds" (damn those were beastly) and now they bring us this "Quartet Live".
A live work attracts me even more than a studio one, especially when it comes to this genre, modern jazz, as you enjoy a recording quality that's much richer, more appealing, and rawer. I'm not talking about applause, of course, but the unrefined art of men who have instruments as extensions of their limbs, and you can feel the dense atmosphere and the personality of our artists.
Joining the universal capabilities of the aforementioned masters is the immense experience of the indomitable Steve Swallow, who has been blowing minds with the bass for years, like a gentle, brilliant, and highly valuable supporting artist. A king without a crown whose humble, humped smile completes the ensemble with honest intellectual poise.
The young and powerful drummer Sanchez, now a loyal companion of the guitarist, refreshes the technical hemisphere, although he does not make a decisive contribution, even if his style is now consistently identifiable.
What this work lacks is power, presence, extroverted and courageous intellectual impact. There is a sort of lifeless, serene, subdued fluidity, which does not limit the quality of the goods on display, but indeed renders it just that, goods.
Several listens allow for improving the appreciation, the blend, which is my main focus. On a conceptual level, there is a certain stability, no creative force (for God's sake, really nothing at all, give me at least one reason to say you've annoyed me), but it does not reach peaks that make it of "different" appreciation. Why tread such safe ground? I ask you, attentive debaserians.
No step forward, which I await rabidly while I dive back, for years now, into the jazz of the '60s and '70s, even though I must admit that with the fresh "Day Trip" by Metheny, I did derive some great satisfaction.
Contemporary jazz expresses itself in already explored territories and this revisionism (after all, isn't this the theory of jazz? I think dismally to myself) can certainly be pleasing, dignified, (see "Falling Grace" by Jim Hall or "Missouri Uncompromised") but doesn't have the air of a starting point or an expansion of horizons. In short, my theory is: enough revisitations of pieces that could have stayed where they were (the same mistake in "Day Trip" where they resurrect late '90s senseless fusion).
I dare say that Burton, to whom this album will ultimately be attributed, has long ceased to have anything to say, despite being a great protagonist of the vibraphone, but a supporting role in everything else. Pat does not lead him; he executes.
Despite the cover, explosive and colorful (forgive the insinuation, a bit trashy), the CD will soon end up in the pile for its excessive normality. This executive beauty does not give me the pleasure that, for example, that diabolical slut Miles Davis managed to kick your ass with and make you dream. God, how I miss him, I even manage to enjoy that fusion abomination "Tutu" (damn, it's indispensable).
Returning to the cover: where is this universe represented here? Where is this explosiveness? It indeed closes the "splendid sameness", the classic standard (sarcasmus rispettosus) "Question and Answer" (damn, again????)
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