take
me to the alley -- take me to the afflicted ones
It all
begins with Gregory Porter’s immaculate voice, a rich and
resonant vibrato that proclaims our better angels and men with
their feet on the ground are one and the same. Both the music
and message cleave to present time and the transcendental. If
I were looking for the perfect OM sound – pure tone without
content -- with which to tantalize the meditation novice, I would
pluck and preserve from the world’s cacophony the inimitable
vive voce of Gregory Porter – that’s how
affecting and gratifying is this gift from the Gods.
How good
is the voice above and below the sweet
spot? How
lush and extended is it? The long and short answer is that Porter’s
voice is all broadband; there is no above and below – which
provides him with exceptional latitude in the solitary activity
of composing. Most of the tracks are refined ballads that incorporate
the vocabulary we associate with the American Songbook and straight-ahead
jazz. But no matter how dynamic and grandiose, the voice is always
in service of the song's architecture and arresting verticalities
that reverberate like superbly laid depth charges rippling and
reconfiguring both tempo and tone that in turn breathe life and
form into those madly inspired beginnings from which the final
product takes its shape. Of note and lasting appeal is that when
Porter sings, he appeals to soul and gospel, but when his talented
musicians take over and the soloing begins, the listener is abruptly
shunted into the realm of pure jazz.
A study
in contrast when set against the unhurried and deeply felt melodies
that speak to the existential problems that afflict America, the
solos delivered by Tivon Pennicott on tenor sax leave no doubt
that Porter’s music is all about jazz. Pennicott, in calculated
daring against the measured voice, comes on like a tempest, finding
a home midway between studied dissonance and the avant garde that
makes no pretense of the influence of John Coltrane. Porter graciously
allows the tenor man to step out of his commanding presence, and,
as the mood strikes, flirt with free-form and expressionism. Taking
liberties with Mao (women hold up half the sky), the soloists
(also Chip Crawford on the keys) hold up half the sound in the
Porter enterprise. Most of the tracks from Take Me To The
Alley offer tantalizing time-lapse synopses of the evolution
of jazz from its melodic beginnings and subsequent fusions with
other music, to the more frenetic present trying to make sense
of the goings-on on the good planet earth as it turns. One doesn’t
simply discover Gregory Porter, but a world whose concerns and
consolations can only be grasped with repeated listening.
When
it comes to the never-ending challenge of creating credible inroads
into the esoteric world of jazz, Porter’s unusual pairing
of soul and straight-no-chaser jazz is surely as good as it gets
when it comes to preparing the listener to challenge his defaults.
At the conclusion of his
2016 Montreal International Jazz Festival triumph,
the balaclava clad Porter left no doubt that he is a major talent,
and fully deserving of the recognition (Downbeat Jazz
Artist and Male Vocalist of the year) that has belatedly arrived.
Porter’s
repertoire and unusual mix of soundscapes satisfy on many levels,
all of which reveal where his loyalties lie. He counts among those
rare singers who, intentionally or otherwise, tower above and
project beyond the music. His basement-deep operatic voice is
much more than a means to communicate the ideas and causes he
supports. As an irresistible timbre the ear turns to like charged
particles to a magnet, and regardless of any song’s tempo,
Porter’s persona is such that he presences like a anchor,
a reassuring calm in the midst of vast betrayal and hurting. His
voice is a bridge the listener wants to cross, to meet not so
much the singer (half-prophet, half-healer) but himself on a higher
plane, and the alternative world the music and choices Porter
majestically and eloquently articulates in especially his most
recent album, Take Me to the Alley.
Gregory
Porter is already so accomplished it’s difficult to imagine
what is to come next? More of the remarkable same, or will he
reconfigure the soul-jazz balance that has been wonderfully struck
and delivered? Whatever it is, we know that it will reflect Porter’s
very particular sensibility and his on-going relationship with
our one-world twisting and turning on axis bold as love.
As the
man grows, the music grows, and every listener’s playlist
is his mirror and confession.
