Enrico Granafei: It’s Hard to Say Goodbye (CAP Records CAP1075)
Historically there haven’t been too many jazz harmonica players – the blues collared the market. The name of virtuoso Larry Adler springs up, as a purveyor of Gershwin’s music, but more importantly, Belgian Toots Thielemans, to whom Enrico Granafei has dedicated this album (and to two fellow musicians on it, the late trumpeter Claudio Roditi and pianist Mike Longo).
Granafei leans firmly in the direction of Latin music and several of the tracks are bossa novas or sambas, his vocals dropped in here and there. It’s well played and his technical skill is quite evident, despite the limitations of the instrument, but much of it is low key, easy listening. For those of a certain age, Max Geldray comes to mind. Even the reggae-style backing on Pia seems tame and What Goes Around Comes Around only serves to tick the fusion/funk box.
Fortunately there’s Night Train (not Jimmy Forrest’s) composed by pianist Amina Figarova, who contributes a lively bedrock of vamping to go with Sylvia Cuenca’s drum solo and rattling snare and with Granafei’s melancholic tones. There’s also a nice piano interlude on Calabrossa and Granafei’s harmonica is appealingly plaintive on Amico, but I found the vocals on both these slightly mannered. There’s also three Thielemans numbers – the well-known Bluesette, To My Lady (which Toots recorded with the Shirley Horn Trio), and the title track It’s Hard To Say Goodbye. Mike Longo provides piano on these.
Despite the technique and the proficiency of the players, there seems to be something missing – perhaps a more inventive jazz-orientated or even blues approach.
Jimbo Ross: Jazz Passion & Satin Latin (Bodacious Records)
Like the harmonica, the violin divides opinion in the jazz world, but there has been a much wider stylistic range of violinists, from Joe Venuti, Stuff Smith and Ray Nance to Billy Bang, Leroy Jenkins and even Phil Wachsmann. Jimbo Ross fits in about halfway between these, his emphasis on modern jazz compositions, some with a Latin flavour.
There’s an interesting selection of material and a range of tempos. The Clifford Brown-Max Roach classic Delilah sets off at a cracking pace, and The Breeze And I closes proceedings with equal stirring rapidity. In between it’s a mixture – Wes Montomery’s Jingles is played slightly slower than the original, Ross’s tone bluesy, whereas Indian Summer is taken more quickly than usual.
There’s a Latin version of The Night Has a Thousand Eyes, and Know It All is a samba. Of the ballads, the waltzes – Don The Working Man and Emily – are, like Polka Dots And Moonbeams, straightforward renditions. It’s Gershwin’s My Man’s Gone Now which really stands out, performed beautifully, from Ross’s tremolo effects and blues-inflected runs to pianist Stuart Elster and guitarist Joe Gaeta’s sensitive contributions. The interweaving of Gaeta and Ross is particularly effective.
Generally, the playing is good, but I couldn’t help having misgivings – sometimes it felt lacklustre, simply going through the motions. However, there are exceptions, especially Delilah, Jingles and My Man’s Gone and it’ll be of interest to those who like violin jazz.
Mette Juul : Thank You & Other Stories (Nilento NILCD2422)
The latest album from Danish guitarist and singer/songwriter – although the sleeve notes prefer to describe her as a storyteller – Mette Juul shows the ease with which folk music and jazz can be fused, although in this case the emphasis is on the former. The songs relate to personal observations and situations in life, meeting people at certain times and expressing feelings of loss, hope and gratitude.
Juul accompanies herself on acoustic guitar and her vocal style has jazz intonation and inflections with occasional speech and longer sustained notes. The music is predominantly folksy, bassist and cellist Lars Danielsson providing the most support. They are augmented by pianist Peter Rosendal on several tracks, including the more uptempo Dream On, on which he opens things up. He also picks up his trombone briefly on Let Me Go and his melodica is suitably melancholic on To A Friend. However, much of it is low key, although the more adventurous Disturbance is a slight deviation.
Most of the songs are Juul’s compositions, the exceptions being To Make You Feel My Love, which, like many of the cover versions, lacks the raw, weary and emotional yearning of Dylan’s original, and surprisingly there’s Irving Berlin’s Let’s Face The Music And Dance, which is taken as a slow tango, Danielsson contributing some very attractive cello.
Luciana Bass: Desatornillándonos (Relative Pitch Records RPRSS040)
In contrast comes Argentinian guitarist Luciana Bass with a spellbinding collection that blends folk and blues traditions with classical and abstract improvisation. Although willing to venture into areas of fragmentation (Japon and Desatornillándonos), using parts of the guitar body (Arco Y Flecha), percussive effects (Manos De Cromo) or dense sheets of sound (Voces De Violeta), she creates overall a sense of exploring various sources of inspiration. So, we have direct reference, and by extension, respect, in Echoes For Ornette and Ayler’s Ghosts.
Her cultural background is reflected both in Cancion Para El “Che” Y Para Charlie, Haden’s homage to the Argentinian Guevara, as well as in the element of formality in Revisiting Heitor’s Prelude, a nod to another compatriot, composer Villa-Lobos. Interestingly, the traditional Blind Willie (shades of Ry Cooder or John Fahey here) is subtitled For Sonny Sharrock, which I suppose gives an indication of Bass’s comprehensive and all-embracing approach. Recommended.
