dreadpirateroberts 'The Tasman Connection' is a richly textured album. It reaches out to half a dozen jazz sub-genres and movements and pulls them together under the leadership of Don Burrow's clarinet and flute.

Echoes from a variety of artists or periods can be heard, Hancock's 'Head Hunters' era in opener, 'The Tasman Connection' or the hint of Wes Montgomery in 'Remember When' and in Golla's playing throughout. There's even a little bit of free-jazz dissonance in 'Don't Contact Us', which is coupled with the interesting sound of Burrows playing an electric clarinet. There are certainly other examples, like the snappy pop of 'Get Into It' but the thing about Australian Jazz during the period seems to be a wonderful inclusiveness, one that reveals an impressive array of talented musicians able to work within a wide range of sub genres. It can easily be argued that albums like 'The Tasman Connection' are derivative, but I imagine this to be part of the point, and part of the nature of fusion itself.

From the standpoint of mood, a significant portion of the album seems to focus on evoking the beach and seascapes (aided, of course by the sleeve) or at least, the famous 'laid back' Aussie stereotype, though this probably constitutes reading a little too much into the often (pleasantly) languid feel to some of the material, achieved by gentle washes on the cymbals and flute and vibes or electric piano, as in 'Long White Cloud' or 'Blues Crossover.'

For someone looking to explore Australian jazz in the 70s, this is a great place to start. If you sample the title track, do not expect the whole album to have that funk-edge, as 'The Tasman Connection' is a more varied release overall. Burrows does not generally employ an aggressive soloing style, but instead has a lighter touch. Clearly, Don is also a fine composer, though the best way to find out for yourself is to try hunt down a copy and check it out. Four stars.

dreadpirateroberts Albums by Australian flautist Don Burrows are generally hard to come by - with no CD reissue for the vast majority of his catalogue at the moment, secondhand record stores or buying online are the only options.

But if one of his albums is worth hunting down before the others, it's the soundtrack to '2000 Weeks'. Written by Burrows for the film (which was not well-received) this record is fantastic, ranging from pop jazz arrangements to atmospheric pieces of a darker nature. Often compared to the UK sound during the late sixties, this is a memorable collection skillfully composed, performed and arranged.

At times it is a breezy set of songs, with Burrow's flute taking the main role, sometimes chirpy with that late-sixties optimism, other times far more subdued. He's backed by a bit of an all-star cast of Sydney jazz musicians, including longtime collaborators George Gello on guitar (in a reduced role) and John Sangster on vibes, among others.

Every now and then '2000 Weeks' can seem a little too tightly arranged, as though the band want to stretch out but can't (like on 'On the Make' with it's lead players trading off snappy solos), but the album does make up for this with its compositional brevity. The best of example of this, funnily enough, is the longest track, the main title. It rather effortlessly encapsulates the mood of entire album in four wonderful minutes, as a theme should. Other highlights include the sparsely arranged 'Infidelity' where guitar and flute share the spotlight, or the hint of desperation in the ballad-like 'There'll Be No Other Time.'

As this is a film score, it does not play like a post or hard bop record with long solos and subtle rhythmic changes. Instead, it's made up of shorter pieces and is big on mood, often (but not always) sombre, courtesy of the vibes and flute or a mournful trumpet or trombone. If you enjoy jazz soundtracks that aren't too busy and have that 1960s feel (minus the strings) then this is worth a look. Four stars.