FunkFreak75
After a decade of learning and growing under the guidance and support of artists like Wolfgang Dauner, George Gruntz, Baden Powell, Art Van Damme, Stéphane Grappelli, Rolf Kuhn, Michael Naura, and Volker Kriegel, one of the jazz's most unique, most creative bass players in history finally strikes out on his own. Praise be ECM Records, Eberhard's new and now-forever label.
1. "More Colours" (6:40) the minimalist orchestrated music with Eberhard's inventive "piccolo" bass techniques and Rainer Brünignhaus' piano ministrations, all of which they would perfect for Side One of The Following Morning but here only sound weird, separated, and not very melodic or pretty. (13.125/10)
2. "The Colours of Chloë" (7:45) cello, piano, and sounding like the inspiration for Brian Eno's first two or three Ambient Music records--unitl 1:40, that is, when cymbals, bass, and synth take over with a truly Jazz-Rock Fusion motif (despite having very little rhythm base--future Pat Metheny-like stuff). Then, at the end of the third minute piano and, later, bowed strings, provide a floating fabric for Eberhard to play his echoing double bass. Beautiful stuff that turns jazzier when Eberhard and Ralf Hübner's drums start playing a more traditional jazz rhythm track for Rainer to really go to work with some stunning modern jazz piano playing. A very cool and innovative song--both in structure and sound palette execution. Manfred Eicher's touch definitely counts for something, as well. (14/15)
3. "An Evening with Vincent van Ritz" (5:46) two minutes of moody bass and mid-range strings taking us through a repeated slow progression of four chords, over and over, as Gisela Schäube sings choir-like wordless vocalese over(within) the weave--until the two-minute mark when a dynamic jazz combo of Latin-infused drumming, wild- walking bass, and chord-hopping Fender Rhodes sets a motif up beneath the trumpet soloing of Ack van Rooyen. Though coordinated and together, each of the four musicians are quite adventurous and expressive in their performances, start to finish, but then at 5:08 we're cut back into the opening motif as if the middle jazz combo section never happened. Weird. One song inside another. (8.875/10)
4. "No Motion Picture" (19:56) opens as if Eberhard and Rainer had been a part of Terry Riley's 1960s experimental adventures into what we now call Minimalism. A minute is given to each round of the presented motif and then it's like they just push the reset/restart button--until 2:30 when everybody takes a sudden left turn into a plodding Fender Rhodes chord progression beneath which Peter Giger provides wave-like cymbal crashes and some kind of flute/recorder sound (it's Eberhard's ocarina!) generates an airy near-droning lead melody up top. At 3:45 Eberhard is let out of his cage while the others stop to rest (and observe) as the composer explores his new freedom over the fretboard of his double bass. What did Eberhard use to create this distinctive, perhaps unique, sound that now becomes his signature? By the end of the sixth minute we've shifted back to some variations on the opening two themes (the Terry Riley minimalism and the plodding ocarina motif). Nice, engaging slow descending chord progressions carry this forward until Rainer's Fender Rhodes (and the ECM engineers) sweetly bridges us into a motif with piano and electric piano making harmonizing arpeggi in the upper registers. I like this section, all piano, very much. (I've always like Rainer Brüninghaus' piano play: his melodic choices have a real deep and profound connection to my soul!) In the 12th minute it feels as if he's starting to climb out of it: so cool! So beautiful. Again, I can see where Brian Eno and Harold Budd (and maybe Philip Glass) got some of their inspiration. The Terry Riley/Soft Machine "Out- Bloody-Rageous" section that ensues is pretty cool, and then it's followed by a sparse drum and percussion solo section that sounds greatly inspired by African and Caribbean instrument sounds and stylings--for a bout two minutes--before revolving back to the Terry Riley/Soft Machine-like motif. Marimba leads the next percussion section starting at 14:30 and then once more back to the Riley-Softs motif with bass, horn, and synths now participating in the weave--before yet another unexpected return to the ploddingly-slow ocarina motif at 16:05. More varied and developed recapitulations of previously exposed themes carry the tune to its end. Wow! What an odd, unusual ride! The most striking thing about this 20-minute song is how odd and hodge-podged all of the various expositions, developments, and recapitulations of the movements are; it's just like a symphony, only a weird one! I like it--very much--though I think they could have improved a few parts (why ocarina?) My favorite movement is, however, the five minutes in the middle (~7:00 to 12:00) when Rainer Brüninghaus is alone (with himself). (36.75/40)
Total time 40:07
While I am greatly appreciative of the creative sound and structural designs of Eberhard and, to a lesser extent, Manfred Eicher (I actually think his and engineers Martin Wieland and Kurt Rapp's editing is one of the more disappointing and detracting elements of these songs: they are no Teo Maceros), I do find the music of his successive albums, Yellow Fields, The Following Morning, and Fluid Rustle far more accessible and enjoyable. Still, Eberhard was 34-years old at the time of making this album: mature enough to know what he liked, as well as to compose some well-thought-out creations. This would be only the beginning of his peak period of masterful creations.
A-/4.5 stars; a flawed but ultimately impressive minor masterpiece of boundary-pushing Jazz-Rock Fusion.
