Every
jazz festival needs what I affectionately refer to as bridge music
that offers to the untrained ear easily accessible musical pathways
linking uncomplicated musical genres to the more complex jazz
idiom. If jazz is currently more popular than classical, it could
very well be because there is more transitional music available
for it.
For its
consummate intelligence and talent in linking mostly alt-rock
to jazz, the Neil Cowley Trio (London, England) was invited to
perform at the 2009 Montreal
International Jazz Festival and again in 2010. For young
listeners whose impressionable musical minds have been thoroughly
hegemonized by Rap and Hip-Hop -- music that can be so bullyingly
monotonic one has to fast forward to the next track for a chord
change -- jazz, especially pure jazz, is not an easy sell, which
makes bridging the breach a gauntlet every jazz festival note-bent
on becoming an annual event has to run.
Enter
Neil Cowley, a classically trained pianist who discovered early
in the game that his creative muse would be best satisfied by
exploring the half-mapped gap between alt-music and jazz.
Alt-music
distinguishes itself from pop and rock not so much by its reliance
on dissonance but the very deliberate separation of a dissonant
chord’s notes (C and C#) and giving them and their harmonic
(or mood) equal say. Think of a song based on oddly constructed
chords or a conventional sequence of notes that crosses the solid
line and then stays there for its effects, or a floor that suddenly
tilts and the different muscles and physical maneuvers required
to maintain balance. Alternative music asks the ear to make those
same adjustments, which is its own reward. Alt-music will appeal
equally to jaded listeners for whom conventional music falls flat
or those who find themselves at a tilt with the world and are
looking for a sympathetic musical rejoinder: “there’s
a melody for every malady.” (PassingStrange)
Neil
Cowley, who was raised on the dissonances supplied by both classical
and jazz, taps into alt-music’s peculiar relationship with
dissonance which he infuses with jazzed up bass runs and Bad Plus
inspired, lashing percussion (cymbal) work. But he never forsakes
his love of pure melody that vacillates from the plaintive to
the propulsive and is found throughout; and he stays true to what
is non-negotiable in noteworthy composition. From one track to
the next, the music, almost without exception, is forcefully directional,
purposefully conducting the listener to the stratosphere of ecstasy
and release, the dynamic of which recalls the rapture-inducing
operas of Richard Wagner whose excesses invite absolute surrender
to the beauty of pure sound, an endgame that just happens to correspond
to the requirements of listeners reared on rock.
Be as
it may that Cowley is more of a jazzman than anything else, he
makes certain that his music retains what is invariable in rock
(or alt-rock): its repetition, distinct and discernible melodies
most of which can be hummed or sung (on both sides of the divide),
and very straight forward chord changes that even the least musically
fit mind can productively engage. And while Cowley is responsible
for all the writing, he never fails to mention that the final
product, both recorded and live, owes much to the energetic Richard
Sadler on bass and dynamic Evan Jenkins on percussion.
To put
Neil Cowley’s accomplishment in perspective, his music,
albeit not fully appreciated as such, is as essential to the lifeline
of jazz festivals as enzymes are to digestion. Since there is
no escaping the self-referential drones and monotones that fill
the airways, preparing the ear for more challenging music is an
issue that will not disappear gently into the post-concert night,
and to this pedagogical end Neil Cowley’s album, Displaced,
is fully deserving of the 2007 BBC Jazz Awards as best jazz album
of year.
That
said, as a jazz trio, you can’t mention them in the same
breath as jazz’s best known trios. If you are attracted
to the musical spaces revealed by the likes of Monk, Jarrett and
Oliver Jones, Cowley's heavy-handedness, audacious melodies and
predictability will excite the ear for about as long as a cat
is likely to remain pat on a hot tin roof.
As a
bridge over shallow water well worth crossing, Cowley’s
signature-unsubtle, rectangular approach to composition is intended
for listeners who want to get connected to jazz but are lacking
in essential vocabulary. For this vital task, I can't think of
anyone more qualified to "break on through," and it
doesn’t hurt that between songs in the key of life this
'man for all jazz seasons' is a witty, glib, self-effacing Brit
who makes you love everything British.
