It's a familiar theme in the story of America's musical evolution: At the dawn of the last century, when jazz first jitterbugged onto the national bandstand, uptight tastemakers considered it risqué, uncouth and demoralizing. Seen from the outside, its propulsive rhythms and improvisational swagger could only signal an uneducated turn away from the staid, swollen rigidity of the Classics. Jazz moved forward anyway, its forebears far surpassing the creative limitations imposed by a shortsighted public and pushing the limits of music. But they were both right, the squares and the swingers: Jazz was dangerous music, and for an extended golden era, its impassioned bite and mutant beauty illuminated the musical landscape. Then, in the 1980s (how many bummer sentences start with that phrase?), we got Wynton, a man who rose to national acclaim by sucking all the innovation and risk from the music founded on innovation and risk, and it's been an uphill battle to regain jazz's vigor and progressive approach ever since.
For the past 15 years or so, ground zero has been the stylistic incubator of downtown NYC. Progressive luminaries like John Zorn, Marc Ribot, and MMW were all weaned on the City's well-informed, uberhip teat, and they've brought truly challenging, thrilling new music to an adoring fanbase. A staple of this downtown scene for years, Josh Roseman was one of the founders of acid jazz goliaths Groove Collective and has toured with artists like MMW and Soulive and jazz heavies Dave Douglas and Dave Holland. On his first album, 2001's Cherry, Roseman was a virtuoso showing on a variety of pop covers and weakish originals, impressive though never outstanding. His follow-up, however, delivers a potent, smoldering statement that harkens back to jazz's headiest days.
Roseman starts off Treats for the Nightwalker on the right foot by surrounding himself with some of today's best and brightest. Besides Roseman's lyrical trombone, the lineup also features Hieroglyphics Ensemble leader Peter Apfelbaum on organ, flute and sax, and guitarists Ben Monder and Liberty Ellman, while the rhythm section features Dave Holland Quintet's Billy Kilson on drums and Patrice Blanchard's understated bass. This underground all-star ensemble succeeds because, despite individual pedigree, it's bound into a tight, multi-layered Bitches Brew-esque knot. As the album winds through a boldly diverse array of styles, Roseman picks his players to suit the song, but the dense, sinuous sound remains consistent. Roseman's major triumph here is in focusing a whole slew of genres-- free jazz, funk, hip-hop, dub, world beat, pop, psychedelia-- through his own interpretive lens and projecting a completely cohesive, original sound.
Swirling compositions like the Far-eastern, prog-rocking "Prospect" and the ethereal, sensuous title track are more ideas in motion than static songs; they're not sketches, per se, but slowly unfolding mysteries. Along the way we encounter effects-smudged trombone, wah-wah guitar, muted trumpet, and hypnotic bass. Burt Bacharach's "Long Day, Short Night" receives a heavy-lidded dub treatment that easily bounces into a swinging ska breakdown, but its chorus retains the original's grand, showtunish grace. The handclaps and Hammond opening "Meera" give the song a frantic, On the Corner feel, but electronic effects along with Diego Voglino's breakbeat drums and Jay Rodrigues' bass clarinet add a buoyant futurefunk drive. "Regression", flecked with sampled birdsong and underscored by Jon Maron's throbbing bass, brightens slowly like an island sunrise.
With several numbers stretching past the ten-minute mark, these songs travel far before resolving and pass through a variety of structures and moods, yet Roseman's joyful, surprising arrangements always keeps them interesting. Length, however, is the album's weak spot. It's tough to swallow 71 minutes of music so thick and compositions so vast. Like a lot of epic fusion and soul-jazz albums of the 70s, Treats could benefit from one less song. Too much of a good thing is still a good thing, but Roseman's point would be far more effective if it were just a bit more succinct.
