Duet (Long Song Records) is from a 2015 live date recorded in a small chapel in Portland, Maine. Fujii engages with the highly inventive bassist Joe Fonda for a long piece called “Paul Bley.” A moving homage to the late, great pianist/composer, the players generate intense synergies that touch on the inner and outer reaches of ‘free jazz.’ The conversation is intuitive, at times seemingly telepathic — and it creates an enormous amount of drama and joy. In the piece, Fujii spends a lot of time working inside the piano, dampening strings, carefully drawing sounds out of the instrument’s metal and wood. These eerie scrapes and shimmering drones, added to Fonda’s arco moans and whispers, conjure up a mysterious soundscape, a soundtrack for a tour of a netherworld.

Fonda, a veteran of many risk-taking collaborations, including a long stint with Anthony Braxton, is a musician who not only overflows with ideas, but possesses the technique to make them concrete, musically. What’s more, he brings a rich, resonant tone to his work with Fujii; the result is that the pair pays loving tribute to Bley while both musicians stretch their distinctive musical imaginations.

A short trio piece is included, featuring Natsuki Tamura’s breathy trumpet work. But this tune is most notable for Fujii’s sonic image of a slow eruption; her fingers release notes like bubbling lava from a deep source within her instrument. Fonda adds a bit of flute to further broaden the recording’s palette.Duet (Long Song Records) is from a 2015 live date recorded in a small chapel in Portland, Maine. Fujii engages with the highly inventive bassist Joe Fonda for a long piece called “Paul Bley.” A moving homage to the late, great pianist/composer, the players generate intense synergies that touch on the inner and outer reaches of ‘free jazz.’ The conversation is intuitive, at times seemingly telepathic — and it creates an enormous amount of drama and joy. In the piece, Fujii spends a lot of time working inside the piano, dampening strings, carefully drawing sounds out of the instrument’s metal and wood. These eerie scrapes and shimmering drones, added to Fonda’s arco moans and whispers, conjure up a mysterious soundscape, a soundtrack for a tour of a netherworld.

Fonda, a veteran of many risk-taking collaborations, including a long stint with Anthony Braxton, is a musician who not only overflows with ideas, but possesses the technique to make them concrete, musically. What’s more, he brings a rich, resonant tone to his work with Fujii; the result is that the pair pays loving tribute to Bley while both musicians stretch their distinctive musical imaginations.

A short trio piece is included, featuring Natsuki Tamura’s breathy trumpet work. But this tune is most notable for Fujii’s sonic image of a slow eruption; her fingers release notes like bubbling lava from a deep source within her instrument. Fonda adds a bit of flute to further broaden the recording’s palette.

The cover of this disc depicts what appears to be the flames of a setting sun igniting a band of cumulus clouds. The music itself is being experienced by your humble reviewer on a wet, chilly, alabaster evening in early February, and as both Satoko Fujii’s piano and Joe Fonda’s bass erupt out of the stereo field, such illustrated contrasts become apparent, literal, and livid.

Let’s note the pedigree of these players at the outset. Pianist Fujii has developed a reputation over the years, deservedly so, as one of improv’s leading lights, a clever and savvy performer of her chosen instrument who manages to combine the dexterity of Monk, the naked abstraction of Cecil Taylor, and the impressionistic flights of fancy so beloved of Paul Bley (for whom the lengthy opening piece is named, Bley being Fujii’s mentor) into a commandeering whole that is far more than the sum of its parts. Virtuoso bassist Fonda has performed with a number of jazz luminaries, most recently with Barry Altschul; his fingerstrokes are nothing less than volcanic, bespoken with a unique percussive attack repurposing the grandeur of Miroslav Vitous and Eberhard Weber in one mighty package. The two came together, having never met, let alone ever performed together, before, in a fortuitous happenstance, recorded in a church in Portland, Maine in 2015, that resulted in the works documented here.

Fonda breaks through the sonic membrane on “Paul Bley” first, his huge, earthy sound working below Fujii’s first tentative upper register flutters like a bubbling magma displacement. But soon Fujii’s cluster tones tickle across the soundstage in a cascading run of thrusting keyboard stabs, velvety trills, and more brazen fisticuffs. All the while Fonda’s formidable thunder bellows underneath, providing a fully articulated stream of notes that Fujii responds to with a near telepathic sense of tonal synergy. Fujii’s husband and frequent sparring partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura provides some beautifully languid accompaniment on the second shorter excursion, “JSN”, adding his usual mercurial vibe to an already heady brew. The very nature of the recording itself is practically a corresponding third instrumental element: live, this performance was undoubtedly captivating to behold, but on CD, the production and sound is absolutely electrifying.

Fujii’s work can sometimes recall a contemporary such as Vijay Iyer, but her unbridled energy and never-ending flow of ideas remains far more texturally inviting and aurally stimulating. She’s a force of nature, one to be reckoned with, which positions Duet as one of the most vital discs of its type you’ll hear this year.

The cover of this disc depicts what appears to be the flames of a setting sun igniting a band of cumulus clouds. The music itself is being experienced by your humble reviewer on a wet, chilly, alabaster evening in early February, and as both Satoko Fujii’s piano and Joe Fonda’s bass erupt out of the stereo field, such illustrated contrasts become apparent, literal, and livid.

Let’s note the pedigree of these players at the outset. Pianist Fujii has developed a reputation over the years, deservedly so, as one of improv’s leading lights, a clever and savvy performer of her chosen instrument who manages to combine the dexterity of Monk, the naked abstraction of Cecil Taylor, and the impressionistic flights of fancy so beloved of Paul Bley (for whom the lengthy opening piece is named, Bley being Fujii’s mentor) into a commandeering whole that is far more than the sum of its parts. Virtuoso bassist Fonda has performed with a number of jazz luminaries, most recently with Barry Altschul; his fingerstrokes are nothing less than volcanic, bespoken with a unique percussive attack repurposing the grandeur of Miroslav Vitous and Eberhard Weber in one mighty package. The two came together, having never met, let alone ever performed together, before, in a fortuitous happenstance, recorded in a church in Portland, Maine in 2015, that resulted in the works documented here.

Fonda breaks through the sonic membrane on “Paul Bley” first, his huge, earthy sound working below Fujii’s first tentative upper register flutters like a bubbling magma displacement. But soon Fujii’s cluster tones tickle across the soundstage in a cascading run of thrusting keyboard stabs, velvety trills, and more brazen fisticuffs. All the while Fonda’s formidable thunder bellows underneath, providing a fully articulated stream of notes that Fujii responds to with a near telepathic sense of tonal synergy. Fujii’s husband and frequent sparring partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura provides some beautifully languid accompaniment on the second shorter excursion, “JSN”, adding his usual mercurial vibe to an already heady brew. The very nature of the recording itself is practically a corresponding third instrumental element: live, this performance was undoubtedly captivating to behold, but on CD, the production and sound is absolutely electrifying.

Fujii’s work can sometimes recall a contemporary such as Vijay Iyer, but her unbridled energy and never-ending flow of ideas remains far more texturally inviting and aurally stimulating. She’s a force of nature, one to be reckoned with, which positions Duet as one of the most vital discs of its type you’ll hear this year.

4 STARS AND A HALF!!!! ****1/2
Japanese pianist-composer Satoko Fujii and American double bass master Joe Fonda did not need much time to establish a rare and profound musical rapport. These two prolific musicians managed to do so even though their winding paths have never previously crossed and both had not heard much of each other’s work before they were asked to play together. Duet, initiated by Fonda after a promoter in Germany recommended him to listen to Fujii, captures beautifully the duo second concert at Woodfords Congregational Church in Portland, Maine in November 2015.

These resourceful and experienced improvisers tapped immediately into a rich, intimate musical atmosphere. Duet begins with an extended free-improvisation titled “Paul Bley”, obviously dedicated to the late pianist. Bley was an early mentor for Fujii, a student of him at the New England Conservatory in Boston, with whom she recorded a piano duet (Something About Water, Libra, 1996). Fonda plays with one of Bley’s early collaborators, drummer Barry Altschul in his 3Dom Factor trio. This piece is a powerful – in the most physical and muscular sense of the word – both Fujii and Fonda sound as if they play all over their instruments, very intense – even in the short, quiet segment that Fonda plays on the flute, with sudden, fast-shifting ecstatic moods. Both explore inventive timbres, extended bowing and percussive techniques, structure and deconstruct colorful textures, always pushing each other’s sonic envelope without stopping for a second to gain their breath. Their mutual understanding is so immediate that you may think that they actually developed a telepathic reading of each other’s minds, created a unique sonic entity that, no doubt, would have made Bley happy. The second, short improvisation, “JSN”, features also Fujii’s partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. This piece offers a different, more relaxed, even melodic atmosphere,informed by the inventive, playful ideas of Tamura. His idiosyncratic playing, together with fonda folksy flute and Fujii hammering on the piano strings contribute to the clever, mischievous spirit of this piece.

This masterful, exciting duo calls for more, many more performances and recordings. 4 STARS AND A HALF!!!! ****1/2
Japanese pianist-composer Satoko Fujii and American double bass master Joe Fonda did not need much time to establish a rare and profound musical rapport. These two prolific musicians managed to do so even though their winding paths have never previously crossed and both had not heard much of each other’s work before they were asked to play together. Duet, initiated by Fonda after a promoter in Germany recommended him to listen to Fujii, captures beautifully the duo second concert at Woodfords Congregational Church in Portland, Maine in November 2015.

These resourceful and experienced improvisers tapped immediately into a rich, intimate musical atmosphere. Duet begins with an extended free-improvisation titled “Paul Bley”, obviously dedicated to the late pianist. Bley was an early mentor for Fujii, a student of him at the New England Conservatory in Boston, with whom she recorded a piano duet (Something About Water, Libra, 1996). Fonda plays with one of Bley’s early collaborators, drummer Barry Altschul in his 3Dom Factor trio. This piece is a powerful – in the most physical and muscular sense of the word – both Fujii and Fonda sound as if they play all over their instruments, very intense – even in the short, quiet segment that Fonda plays on the flute, with sudden, fast-shifting ecstatic moods. Both explore inventive timbres, extended bowing and percussive techniques, structure and deconstruct colorful textures, always pushing each other’s sonic envelope without stopping for a second to gain their breath. Their mutual understanding is so immediate that you may think that they actually developed a telepathic reading of each other’s minds, created a unique sonic entity that, no doubt, would have made Bley happy. The second, short improvisation, “JSN”, features also Fujii’s partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. This piece offers a different, more relaxed, even melodic atmosphere,informed by the inventive, playful ideas of Tamura. His idiosyncratic playing, together with fonda folksy flute and Fujii hammering on the piano strings contribute to the clever, mischievous spirit of this piece.

This masterful, exciting duo calls for more, many more performances and recordings.

Duet documents a first-time meeting between pianist Satoko Fujii and bassist/flutist Joe Fonda in Portland, Oregon, in 2015 and it results in two pieces: “Paul Bley”, a long and sometimes quietly intense extended
improvisation between the two, and a relatively brief piece in which they’re joined by Fujii’s husband and frequent musical partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. Whether “Paul Bley” was titled before or after the
pianist’s death, it’s a fitting invocation as well as a particularly personal one: Fujii studied with Bley at the New England Conservatory in the ‘90s and her first recording, 1994-95’s Something About Water consisted
largely of hand-in-glove duets with the senior pianist. It’s an episodic improvisation, Fujii and Fonda alternately introducing materials that blossom into collective music. The two share a warmth and lyricism that lends a consistency of mood as well as thematic development. Fonda has a rich resonance and his lines are filled with subtle expressive touches. His unaccompanied bass is the first thing that we hear, his melodic lead developing a certain bluesy reverence. From there, it’s a fluid, shared invention, an exploration of each other’s special resources. There are explosions of spontaneous color, rapid-fire inventions in which Fujii explores the breadth of the keyboard accompanied by Fonda’s own explosive runs and dense ostinatos; there’s a moment of absolute reverie when Fonda turns to his flute and the two craft a spontaneous ballad that might have sprung from the imagination of Satie or Debussy. At another moment, an isolated plucked string from Fujii calls up a koto, leading to a distinctly Japanese meditation; Fonda’s vigorously plucked harmonics suggests the same instrument, inspiring zither-like string sweeps from the pianist. Each has a certain percussive bent and there are moments when Fonda’s deliberately buzzing strings or Fujii’s use of brittle vibrating materials on the piano strings seem to add a drummer to the proceedings, suggesting the classic piano trio. Tamura, a master of timbral mutation, introduces “JSN” with muted, sustained trills, creating a dense and narrow pitch range from which Fujii’s spacious, probing melody arises, gradually ascending higher in pitch, knotting in clusters with Fonda and some highpitched percussion. As that movement ebbs, Tamura turns to the lowest range of his trumpet to initiate some startlingly speech-like effects, until he is eventually joined by flute and prepared piano in music that’s wildly playful with a certain macabre dissonance. It’s an inventive meeting, with plenty of promise for the future but already substantial achievement.Duet documents a first-time meeting between pianist Satoko Fujii and bassist/flutist Joe Fonda in Portland, Oregon, in 2015 and it results in two pieces: “Paul Bley”, a long and sometimes quietly intense extended
improvisation between the two, and a relatively brief piece in which they’re joined by Fujii’s husband and frequent musical partner, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. Whether “Paul Bley” was titled before or after the
pianist’s death, it’s a fitting invocation as well as a particularly personal one: Fujii studied with Bley at the New England Conservatory in the ‘90s and her first recording, 1994-95’s Something About Water consisted
largely of hand-in-glove duets with the senior pianist. It’s an episodic improvisation, Fujii and Fonda alternately introducing materials that blossom into collective music. The two share a warmth and lyricism that lends a consistency of mood as well as thematic development. Fonda has a rich resonance and his lines are filled with subtle expressive touches. His unaccompanied bass is the first thing that we hear, his melodic lead developing a certain bluesy reverence. From there, it’s a fluid, shared invention, an exploration of each other’s special resources. There are explosions of spontaneous color, rapid-fire inventions in which Fujii explores the breadth of the keyboard accompanied by Fonda’s own explosive runs and dense ostinatos; there’s a moment of absolute reverie when Fonda turns to his flute and the two craft a spontaneous ballad that might have sprung from the imagination of Satie or Debussy. At another moment, an isolated plucked string from Fujii calls up a koto, leading to a distinctly Japanese meditation; Fonda’s vigorously plucked harmonics suggests the same instrument, inspiring zither-like string sweeps from the pianist. Each has a certain percussive bent and there are moments when Fonda’s deliberately buzzing strings or Fujii’s use of brittle vibrating materials on the piano strings seem to add a drummer to the proceedings, suggesting the classic piano trio. Tamura, a master of timbral mutation, introduces “JSN” with muted, sustained trills, creating a dense and narrow pitch range from which Fujii’s spacious, probing melody arises, gradually ascending higher in pitch, knotting in clusters with Fonda and some highpitched percussion. As that movement ebbs, Tamura turns to the lowest range of his trumpet to initiate some startlingly speech-like effects, until he is eventually joined by flute and prepared piano in music that’s wildly playful with a certain macabre dissonance. It’s an inventive meeting, with plenty of promise for the future but already substantial achievement.

Duet is a very gratifying artistic collaboration between the inventive Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii, a freethinker who feels equally comfortable playing solo and conducting an experimental big band, and the categorical American bassist Joe Fonda, whose intense, unclouded sound made him be Anthony Braxton’s first choice for many years. These two references of the avant-garde jazz scene had only met once before recording live in 2015.
Aware of their fabulous capabilities to create astonishing sonorities, I wasn’t surprised a bit with the brutal cohesion and communicative freedom achieved during this communion.

The album comprises just a couple of tunes, kicking in with the 37-minute piece “Paul Bley”, dedicated to the masterful pianist mentioned in the title. It takes us on a challenging journey of multiple sectional changes and explorative excursions where we can still have a glimpse of the honoree’s music. The artists are in absolute command of texture, timbre, and musical precision.
Amidst tangents and difficult oblique approaches, the pair has also embarked on a few moments of melodic clarity. Not scarcely, Fujii’s entangled piano sounds dance around Fonda’s sharp plucks and thumps, creating a propelling harmony that claims to be running forever, as the water of a river. It eventually breaks into a stinging tension or a vague silence after a while. Sometimes the sounds can be pretty metallic and rusty, especially when Fujii scratches the strings of the piano and exchanges rhythmic ideas with Fonda who nods to the ping-ponged flurries. In the next minute, the mood can be so dreamy, vague, and docile that you could imagine yourself eating cotton candy in front of an old, colored carousel, somewhere in your childhood.

Disparity doesn’t mean lack of unity, and all the different passages, some of them strategically percussive, demonstrate a vastly committed duo in their buoyant interactions full of humor and vitality.
“JSN”, featuring the guest trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, conveys a complete understanding between the musicians, who know what they want and what they’re doing. This exquisite ride takes you to contemplative, turbulent, phantasmagoric, and slightly oriental wonderlands.

Flourishing with creative intuition and boasting an impeccable execution, Duet unreservedly explores the powerful musical spectrums of Fujii and Fonda, in a beautiful intersection.Duet is a very gratifying artistic collaboration between the inventive Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii, a freethinker who feels equally comfortable playing solo and conducting an experimental big band, and the categorical American bassist Joe Fonda, whose intense, unclouded sound made him be Anthony Braxton’s first choice for many years. These two references of the avant-garde jazz scene had only met once before recording live in 2015.
Aware of their fabulous capabilities to create astonishing sonorities, I wasn’t surprised a bit with the brutal cohesion and communicative freedom achieved during this communion.

The album comprises just a couple of tunes, kicking in with the 37-minute piece “Paul Bley”, dedicated to the masterful pianist mentioned in the title. It takes us on a challenging journey of multiple sectional changes and explorative excursions where we can still have a glimpse of the honoree’s music. The artists are in absolute command of texture, timbre, and musical precision.
Amidst tangents and difficult oblique approaches, the pair has also embarked on a few moments of melodic clarity. Not scarcely, Fujii’s entangled piano sounds dance around Fonda’s sharp plucks and thumps, creating a propelling harmony that claims to be running forever, as the water of a river. It eventually breaks into a stinging tension or a vague silence after a while. Sometimes the sounds can be pretty metallic and rusty, especially when Fujii scratches the strings of the piano and exchanges rhythmic ideas with Fonda who nods to the ping-ponged flurries. In the next minute, the mood can be so dreamy, vague, and docile that you could imagine yourself eating cotton candy in front of an old, colored carousel, somewhere in your childhood.

Disparity doesn’t mean lack of unity, and all the different passages, some of them strategically percussive, demonstrate a vastly committed duo in their buoyant interactions full of humor and vitality.
“JSN”, featuring the guest trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, conveys a complete understanding between the musicians, who know what they want and what they’re doing. This exquisite ride takes you to contemplative, turbulent, phantasmagoric, and slightly oriental wonderlands.

Flourishing with creative intuition and boasting an impeccable execution, Duet unreservedly explores the powerful musical spectrums of Fujii and Fonda, in a beautiful intersection.

8,5/10!!!!!
un disco che evoca tutta una stagione di grande musica, quella degli anni ’70. Tra Southern Rock, John Coltrane e Charles Mingus.8,5/10!!!!!
un disco che evoca tutta una stagione di grande musica, quella degli anni ’70. Tra Southern Rock, John Coltrane e Charles Mingus.

Tiziano Tononi & Southbound **** 4 STARS!
Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers
Long Song
Just when some of us thought the whole “tribute
album” thing had run its course, part two: In the early
‘70s, one of the paramount American outfits was The Allman Brothers Band, a Southern blues-rock combo with a
flair for extended improvisations and one of the genre’s
best guitarists, Duane Allman. This Italian combo, led by
drummer Tiziano Tononi, pays tribute to the Brothers by
taking some of their best-known songs and harnesses
them as points of departure for some (occasionally extreme) jazz improvisation. Does it sound like the Allmans?
Except for the tunes themselves—“Whippin’ Post,” “Midnight Rider,” “Les Brers in A Minor”—not at all. Do they
capture the feverish intensity of the Allmans at their peak?
Yes, but in a wild jazz context, evocative of Charles Mingus
(no stranger to the blues himself), Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
and Frank Zappa’s jazz-oriented orchestrations for large
ensembles (The Grand Wazoo, for instance). Highlights
include Emanuele Parrini’s mercurial, scorching violin
(moments of aching guitar-like wails), Marta Raviglia’s
slightly sultry, clear vocals (on “Whippin’ Post” and a few
others), and the expressive, fiery saxophones of Emanuele
Passerini and Piero B. Bon. “You Don’t Love Me” becomes
a powerful swinger—Rat Pac-era Vegas meets South Side
Chicago blues club—worthy of both Count Basie and
Carla Bley. If you are a fan of blues, early ‘70s guitar rock,
and edgy-but-mightily-rhythmic jazz, Duane and Coltrane
(dig the solo on “Post”), seek and cloud 9.5 is your next
stop. (14 tracks, 79 min.) www.longsongrecords.comTiziano Tononi & Southbound **** 4 STARS!
Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers
Long Song
Just when some of us thought the whole “tribute
album” thing had run its course, part two: In the early
‘70s, one of the paramount American outfits was The Allman Brothers Band, a Southern blues-rock combo with a
flair for extended improvisations and one of the genre’s
best guitarists, Duane Allman. This Italian combo, led by
drummer Tiziano Tononi, pays tribute to the Brothers by
taking some of their best-known songs and harnesses
them as points of departure for some (occasionally extreme) jazz improvisation. Does it sound like the Allmans?
Except for the tunes themselves—“Whippin’ Post,” “Midnight Rider,” “Les Brers in A Minor”—not at all. Do they
capture the feverish intensity of the Allmans at their peak?
Yes, but in a wild jazz context, evocative of Charles Mingus
(no stranger to the blues himself), Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
and Frank Zappa’s jazz-oriented orchestrations for large
ensembles (The Grand Wazoo, for instance). Highlights
include Emanuele Parrini’s mercurial, scorching violin
(moments of aching guitar-like wails), Marta Raviglia’s
slightly sultry, clear vocals (on “Whippin’ Post” and a few
others), and the expressive, fiery saxophones of Emanuele
Passerini and Piero B. Bon. “You Don’t Love Me” becomes
a powerful swinger—Rat Pac-era Vegas meets South Side
Chicago blues club—worthy of both Count Basie and
Carla Bley. If you are a fan of blues, early ‘70s guitar rock,
and edgy-but-mightily-rhythmic jazz, Duane and Coltrane
(dig the solo on “Post”), seek and cloud 9.5 is your next
stop. (14 tracks, 79 min.) www.longsongrecords.com

La musica della Allman Brothers Band (e in fondo tutta una tradizione blues pregressa) a braccetto con Trane, Ayler, Mingus, il Davis orgiastico della svolta elettrica, e poi Rahsaan, Sun Ra, Cherry, l’Art Ensemble: questa, dichiaratamente, la linea percorsa dal nuovo lavoro del percussionista milanese, che del resto ad operazioni del genere è avvezzo da oltre venticinque anni (il primo capitolo della saga ci pare l’Ayler del ’90, nel ventennale della morte del sassofonista di Cleveland).

Il risultato è abbastanza eccentrico rispetto a tutti i precedenti, anche se, per altri versi, un dato marchio di fabbrica è una volta di più avvertibilissimo. La musica, come detto, è quella di Duane e Gregg Allman, debitamente riarrangiata da Tiziano Tononi (ma molto rispettata, almeno nelle coordinate-chiave, con al centro la voce di Marta Raviglia), il quale mette giù di suo pugno anche tre brani, “For Barry O.,” “Clouds of Macon” e “Skydog Blues.”

Il totale è ovviamente molto di più della musica di riferimento iniziale, ed ecco che vengono fuori più o meno distintamente i vari nomi fatti all’inizio. Il più prossimo ci pare Sun Ra, ma tutto un suono squisitamente black (a cui Tononi si è da sempre mostrato particolarmente sensibile) fa capolino di continuo, dall’anima funky, soul, R&B e chi più ne ha più ne metta, alle intemperanze free (magistrali ovunque i solisti), con tutto (molto, almeno) quello che ci passa in mezzo.

Ci sono qua e là delle leggerezze persino eccessive, ma fa parte del gioco. Ci sono, volta a volta, aromaticità e veemenza, turgori e ritualismo, venature anche country (l’armonica di Fabio Treves in “You Don’t Love Me,” che fa venire in mente i Canned Heat, che magari proprio country non erano, ma circumnavigavano pure quell’universo, e poi il violino di Parrini) e negritudine anche grassa (e qui ecco i fantasmi dell’ultimo Ayler, New Grass e dintorni, come l’Art Ensemble più di marca-Bowie). C’è tanta mercanzia, venendo incontro a gusti di varia etnia. Soddisfacendo di fatto un po’ tutti e aspettando il prossimo capitolo della saga tononiana.
Track Listing: Whippin’ Post; Midnight Rider; Whippin’ Post (reprise); For Berry O.; Les Brers (in G Minor); Don’t Want You No More; It’s Not My Cross to Bear; Kind of Bird; Clouds on Macon; Hot ‘Lanta; Requiem for Skydog; You Don’t Love Me; Soul Serenade; You Don’t Love Me (glorious ending).

Personnel: Emanuele Passerini: sax (soprano e tenore); Piero Bittolo Bon: sax (alto), clarinetto basso, flauti; Emanuele Parrini: violino, viola; Carmelo Massimo Torre: fisarmonica; Joe Fonda: contrabbasso, basso elettrico; Tiziano Tononi: batteria, percussioni, udu drum, gongs; Pacho: congas, bongos, percussioni; Marta Raviglia: voce; Fabio Treves: armonica a bocca; Daniele Cavallanti: sax (tenore).

Title: Trouble No More… All Men Are Brothers | Year Released: 2017 | Record Label: Long Song Records

La musica della Allman Brothers Band (e in fondo tutta una tradizione blues pregressa) a braccetto con Trane, Ayler, Mingus, il Davis orgiastico della svolta elettrica, e poi Rahsaan, Sun Ra, Cherry, l’Art Ensemble: questa, dichiaratamente, la linea percorsa dal nuovo lavoro del percussionista milanese, che del resto ad operazioni del genere è avvezzo da oltre venticinque anni (il primo capitolo della saga ci pare l’Ayler del ’90, nel ventennale della morte del sassofonista di Cleveland).

Il risultato è abbastanza eccentrico rispetto a tutti i precedenti, anche se, per altri versi, un dato marchio di fabbrica è una volta di più avvertibilissimo. La musica, come detto, è quella di Duane e Gregg Allman, debitamente riarrangiata da Tiziano Tononi (ma molto rispettata, almeno nelle coordinate-chiave, con al centro la voce di Marta Raviglia), il quale mette giù di suo pugno anche tre brani, “For Barry O.,” “Clouds of Macon” e “Skydog Blues.”

Il totale è ovviamente molto di più della musica di riferimento iniziale, ed ecco che vengono fuori più o meno distintamente i vari nomi fatti all’inizio. Il più prossimo ci pare Sun Ra, ma tutto un suono squisitamente black (a cui Tononi si è da sempre mostrato particolarmente sensibile) fa capolino di continuo, dall’anima funky, soul, R&B e chi più ne ha più ne metta, alle intemperanze free (magistrali ovunque i solisti), con tutto (molto, almeno) quello che ci passa in mezzo.

Ci sono qua e là delle leggerezze persino eccessive, ma fa parte del gioco. Ci sono, volta a volta, aromaticità e veemenza, turgori e ritualismo, venature anche country (l’armonica di Fabio Treves in “You Don’t Love Me,” che fa venire in mente i Canned Heat, che magari proprio country non erano, ma circumnavigavano pure quell’universo, e poi il violino di Parrini) e negritudine anche grassa (e qui ecco i fantasmi dell’ultimo Ayler, New Grass e dintorni, come l’Art Ensemble più di marca-Bowie). C’è tanta mercanzia, venendo incontro a gusti di varia etnia. Soddisfacendo di fatto un po’ tutti e aspettando il prossimo capitolo della saga tononiana.
Track Listing: Whippin’ Post; Midnight Rider; Whippin’ Post (reprise); For Berry O.; Les Brers (in G Minor); Don’t Want You No More; It’s Not My Cross to Bear; Kind of Bird; Clouds on Macon; Hot ‘Lanta; Requiem for Skydog; You Don’t Love Me; Soul Serenade; You Don’t Love Me (glorious ending).

Personnel: Emanuele Passerini: sax (soprano e tenore); Piero Bittolo Bon: sax (alto), clarinetto basso, flauti; Emanuele Parrini: violino, viola; Carmelo Massimo Torre: fisarmonica; Joe Fonda: contrabbasso, basso elettrico; Tiziano Tononi: batteria, percussioni, udu drum, gongs; Pacho: congas, bongos, percussioni; Marta Raviglia: voce; Fabio Treves: armonica a bocca; Daniele Cavallanti: sax (tenore).

Title: Trouble No More… All Men Are Brothers | Year Released: 2017 | Record Label: Long Song Records

Upon hearing of the death of Gregg Allman, I was transported back to the night I first heard The Allman Brothers Band in concert. Their first Lp had been released on Atco/Capricorn in late 1969 and they immediately went on tour supporting the J. Giels Band. Saw them at an old concert hall in Springfield, Massachusetts. When they hit the stage, there may have been 30 people in the audience but the ABB rocked as if the house was full. Gregg sat behind his Hammond B-3 organ, belting vocals, his brother Duane and Dickey Betts trading solos that roared through the auditorium while the rhythm section – drummers Jai Johanny Johanson and Butch Trucks plus bassist Berry Oakley – pounded away and played heart-thumping bass. I was covering the event for our campus newspaper so I got to go backstage to visit the band as the headliner was setting up. They were excited about how well the set went and that they were getting press coverage – they were fine Southern Gentlemen, offering my girlfriend and I beers. I talked about the Blues with Gregg for a few minutes, amazed that someone just 16 months older than me could sound a 60-year old bluesman. He laughed and pointed to the cigarette in his and try beer in his hand, stating that these were “two reasons I can shout.” Got a minute to chat with a few others before they headed out to the tour bus – never did stay to hear the J Giels Band (though I did see them the following year).

After Duane died in 1971, I lost interest in the band (although I wore out the grooves on “Live at The Fillmore East”). Gregg carried on with the band until 1975, started a solo career that had its ups-and-downs (his 2011 collaboration with T-Bone Burnett, titled “Low Country Blues”, is an excellent recording), rejoining the group in 1989, an ever-shifting lineup that lasted another 25 years.

Drummer Tiziano Tononi (pictured left) is one of the last people I expected to record a tribute to The Allman Brothers Band but his new album “Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers” (Long Song Records) is a loud and loving tribute to the group with a focus on the earlier recordings mixed in with a pair of Dickey Betts songs and three originals. Tononi has assembled quite a group – what’s interesting on first glance about Southbound is that there are no guitars or keyboards (save for Carmelo Massimo Torre who plays accordion) and the lead instruments are Emanuele Parrini (violin, viola) and Emanuele Passerini (tenor and soprano saxophones) plus Piero Bittolo Bon (alto sax, bass clarinet, flutes). The rhythm section features Joe Fonda (electric and acoustic bass) and Pacho (congas, bongos, and percussion). The majority of the tracks also feature the voice of Marta Riviglia, who has worked with all sorts of ensembles from symphony orchestra to jazz quartets to duos and more (and working a lot with electronics).

If all you know of Tiziano Tononi is the work he has done with tenor saxophonist Daniele Cavallanti (on albums dedicated to Ornette Coleman, Roland Kirk, and Don Cherry, among others with original works), this music will probably surprise you as well. The album opens with an explosive reading of “Whipping Post” which has such an exciting forward motion created by the bass and drums) – there’s also a tumultuous soprano sax solo (the “reprise” shows up after the second track and is more diffuse). On tracks such as “It’s Not My Cross to Bear”, “Don’t Want You No More”, and Willie Cobb’s “You Don’t Love Me”, it’s a treat to hear the drummer lock in Fonda and play such high-energy blues (the latter song feature a smashing interchange between viola and accordion!) Bittolo Bon opens “…Cross to Bear” with a rip-roaring alto sax solo followed by Ms. Riviglia digging into the lyrics shadowed by Parrini hard-edged violin. Passserini’s tenor plays a hardy solo in the middle before the bands quiets down for a delightful accordion spotlight. Listen to the ensemble rip through “Hot ‘Lanta” featuring burning solos from Parrini, Passerini (soprano), and Bittolo Bon (bass clarinet) fired up by the blazing drums, congas, and the hard-edged bass playing.

Arguably the best track on the album is the Eastern-sounding take of “Midnight Rider” (video below), replete with droning accordion, lively bongos, urdu drums, double-tracked vocals, and haunting bass flute solo. The exotic sounds carry over to the drummer’s original piece “For Berry O.” but here it’s just gongs, shaken percussion, cymbals, steel drums, accordion, congas, and drum set but no voice, strings, or reeds. Another original work in “Requiem For Skydog”, a deep blues dedicated to Duane Allman that features solos from alto and tenor saxophones plus violin as well as impressive acoustic bass melodies.

Mr. Cavallanti shows up on a rousing take of King Curtis’s “Soul Serenade” joined by the squalling soprano sax. The best part may be Cavallanti’s unaccompanied coda, the only time the main melody of the song is played.

The only misstep (to me) is the final track, “You Don’t Love Me (glorious ending)” with Ms. Riviglia riffing on the lyrics in a duet with herself while the band initially wails away. Everyone drops out but the vocalist and the leader, then the voice departs and it’s just the drums taking the album to its conclusion. However, “Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers” (subtitled “A Tribute to the Spiritual Unity of The Allman Brothers Band”) is quite an exciting project. Starting with the powerful rhythms, adding Marta Riviglia’s expressive vocals punctuated by the reeds, strings, and accordion, Tiziano Tononi and Southbound give their all to honor a band that has quite an effect on the United States and beyond.

For more information, go to www.longsongrecords.com.Upon hearing of the death of Gregg Allman, I was transported back to the night I first heard The Allman Brothers Band in concert. Their first Lp had been released on Atco/Capricorn in late 1969 and they immediately went on tour supporting the J. Giels Band. Saw them at an old concert hall in Springfield, Massachusetts. When they hit the stage, there may have been 30 people in the audience but the ABB rocked as if the house was full. Gregg sat behind his Hammond B-3 organ, belting vocals, his brother Duane and Dickey Betts trading solos that roared through the auditorium while the rhythm section – drummers Jai Johanny Johanson and Butch Trucks plus bassist Berry Oakley – pounded away and played heart-thumping bass. I was covering the event for our campus newspaper so I got to go backstage to visit the band as the headliner was setting up. They were excited about how well the set went and that they were getting press coverage – they were fine Southern Gentlemen, offering my girlfriend and I beers. I talked about the Blues with Gregg for a few minutes, amazed that someone just 16 months older than me could sound a 60-year old bluesman. He laughed and pointed to the cigarette in his and try beer in his hand, stating that these were “two reasons I can shout.” Got a minute to chat with a few others before they headed out to the tour bus – never did stay to hear the J Giels Band (though I did see them the following year).

After Duane died in 1971, I lost interest in the band (although I wore out the grooves on “Live at The Fillmore East”). Gregg carried on with the band until 1975, started a solo career that had its ups-and-downs (his 2011 collaboration with T-Bone Burnett, titled “Low Country Blues”, is an excellent recording), rejoining the group in 1989, an ever-shifting lineup that lasted another 25 years.

Drummer Tiziano Tononi (pictured left) is one of the last people I expected to record a tribute to The Allman Brothers Band but his new album “Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers” (Long Song Records) is a loud and loving tribute to the group with a focus on the earlier recordings mixed in with a pair of Dickey Betts songs and three originals. Tononi has assembled quite a group – what’s interesting on first glance about Southbound is that there are no guitars or keyboards (save for Carmelo Massimo Torre who plays accordion) and the lead instruments are Emanuele Parrini (violin, viola) and Emanuele Passerini (tenor and soprano saxophones) plus Piero Bittolo Bon (alto sax, bass clarinet, flutes). The rhythm section features Joe Fonda (electric and acoustic bass) and Pacho (congas, bongos, and percussion). The majority of the tracks also feature the voice of Marta Riviglia, who has worked with all sorts of ensembles from symphony orchestra to jazz quartets to duos and more (and working a lot with electronics).

If all you know of Tiziano Tononi is the work he has done with tenor saxophonist Daniele Cavallanti (on albums dedicated to Ornette Coleman, Roland Kirk, and Don Cherry, among others with original works), this music will probably surprise you as well. The album opens with an explosive reading of “Whipping Post” which has such an exciting forward motion created by the bass and drums) – there’s also a tumultuous soprano sax solo (the “reprise” shows up after the second track and is more diffuse). On tracks such as “It’s Not My Cross to Bear”, “Don’t Want You No More”, and Willie Cobb’s “You Don’t Love Me”, it’s a treat to hear the drummer lock in Fonda and play such high-energy blues (the latter song feature a smashing interchange between viola and accordion!) Bittolo Bon opens “…Cross to Bear” with a rip-roaring alto sax solo followed by Ms. Riviglia digging into the lyrics shadowed by Parrini hard-edged violin. Passserini’s tenor plays a hardy solo in the middle before the bands quiets down for a delightful accordion spotlight. Listen to the ensemble rip through “Hot ‘Lanta” featuring burning solos from Parrini, Passerini (soprano), and Bittolo Bon (bass clarinet) fired up by the blazing drums, congas, and the hard-edged bass playing.

Arguably the best track on the album is the Eastern-sounding take of “Midnight Rider” (video below), replete with droning accordion, lively bongos, urdu drums, double-tracked vocals, and haunting bass flute solo. The exotic sounds carry over to the drummer’s original piece “For Berry O.” but here it’s just gongs, shaken percussion, cymbals, steel drums, accordion, congas, and drum set but no voice, strings, or reeds. Another original work in “Requiem For Skydog”, a deep blues dedicated to Duane Allman that features solos from alto and tenor saxophones plus violin as well as impressive acoustic bass melodies.

Mr. Cavallanti shows up on a rousing take of King Curtis’s “Soul Serenade” joined by the squalling soprano sax. The best part may be Cavallanti’s unaccompanied coda, the only time the main melody of the song is played.

The only misstep (to me) is the final track, “You Don’t Love Me (glorious ending)” with Ms. Riviglia riffing on the lyrics in a duet with herself while the band initially wails away. Everyone drops out but the vocalist and the leader, then the voice departs and it’s just the drums taking the album to its conclusion. However, “Trouble No More…All Men Are Brothers” (subtitled “A Tribute to the Spiritual Unity of The Allman Brothers Band”) is quite an exciting project. Starting with the powerful rhythms, adding Marta Riviglia’s expressive vocals punctuated by the reeds, strings, and accordion, Tiziano Tononi and Southbound give their all to honor a band that has quite an effect on the United States and beyond.

For more information, go to www.longsongrecords.com.