Michael Brecker
Two Blocks From The Edge

Album recorded in quintet, with Don Alias on percussion, James Genus on bass, Jeff "Tain" Watts on drums, and Joey Calderazzo on piano. Two years after "Tales from the Hudson" (1996), this monolith to contemporary jazz of the highest quality is released.

Perhaps there is a slight bias of the humble narrator towards an artist who consistently produces high-caliber products and collaborations after a necessary fusion past in the early eighties; a task nonetheless incredibly difficult, especially when one also needs to fill their stomach in the harsh America. And even more so, hats off when, as in Michael's case, you are gravely ill (in these last two years: best wishes, old lion) and despite everything you come out with a complex and rich work like "Wide Angles", recorded in "big band"!

People with noble intentions (Tom Scott, David Sanborn, Rick Braun, Chuck Loeb) have long collapsed under the blandishments of record labels to become the faded photocopy not of themselves (which would still be within legal limits) but of types like Kenny G, which is the worst that exists on the face of the earth concerning Musical Hypocrites (could be the name of a band, mmmh…). Therefore, the album makes no concessions to the easy habits of your ears: if you don't like radical and well-structured jazz that leaves plenty of room for the interpretation of the individual musicians involved, despite the tracks having precise structure and rigorous construction, stay away. Better for you and your eardrums. Maybe start with a big band, an old Illinois Jacquet that exposes the theme without heart punches and then progress slowly, okay? If instead, you are already seasoned men, with balls above your boxers, like Cesare Romiti, get the album, kick everyone out of the house; or lock yourself in the car with the lock on or put on big headphones and start listening. One last note: the album is dedicated to Don Grolnick, who had just recently passed away and used to say he liked living "close to the edge, as long as it is two or three blocks away" hence the title.

1) "Madame Toulouse" (Brecker) begins with a tarantella-like theme played between double bass, percussion, and tambourine which soon transforms into a medium-tempo swinging piece; an engaging gym workout; not coincidental for Michael and Joey.
2) "Two blocks from the edge" (Brecker) starts quietly with phrases planted on a bass pedal that slowly slows down, restarting to develop in an unpredictable and absolutely engaging way, with extensive use of pointed bass to create tension and orgasmic release. Calderazzo uncontrollable and very precise. After this music, there are the Pearly Gates. Nothing less than that.
3) "Bye George" (Calderazzo) brings us back to earth with a piece that completely detaches from the experimental atmosphere of the first two tracks, to dish out from your speakers a swing worthy of the best Frank Sinatra (an artist for whom Michael sometimes played the third or fourth sax in a row in the orchestra, with great modesty and eagerness to learn). Eargasm. Watts probably eats pure energy bars and Genus grabs him by the balls and keeps him more than once in the album.
4) "El Nino" (Calderazzo) another piece by Joey that showcases uncommon chromatic and rhythmic creativity. You have to listen to this track to believe how much new can still be done starting from Mc Coy Tyner of the seventies; those who loved (love!) Mc Coy Tyner from "Sahara" and that period cannot help but have a Deja Vu listening to this track.
5) "Cat’s cradle" (Calderazzo) this "cat's cradle" is a delicately interpreted lullaby that serves to show that even "jazz cats" have a heart somewhere; fast scales and chord changes interspersed in the peaceful advance of the piece that at times recalls the VSOP (does anyone remember?)
6) "The impaler" (Watts) is a piece of pure energy that develops with the sax in clear evidence up to a certain point; then it blocks, "pointed" on a kind of calypso just to let loose a Calderazzo that resembles a volcano in its initial magmatic eruption stage. Indescribable by words. Incredible.
7) "How long' til the sun" (Brecker) starts slow with a dramatic and dignified sax. To continue at a medium-slow pace that allows you to catch your breath after the previous eruption. Again, stratospheric class numbers.
8) "Delta city blues" (Brecker) is, finally, an initial blues-key divertissement, freely elaborated by the group. A nice little game that confirms that jazz musicians can range 360 degrees. It still ends up swinging, monstrous and free, driven by Watts who is unstoppable. And the others behind without needing to be asked twice. The twelve-bar structure is just hinted at behind cascades of notes and clusters of scattered chords. Expanded and deconstructed at will; lanky and readapted. Wow!!!

Best wishes again for your health, Mike: a hundred of these albums!