Every time I receive a shipment of CDs from Pitchfork International Headquarters, I make a point of separating the discs into two piles: one marked "sooner" and the other marked "later." The more straightforward rock discs usually get marked "sooner." And in general, the first impressions of these albums don't lie-- after about 4-6 listens, I've pretty much made up my mind. Jazzy, electronic, and ambient discs often get marked "later" because they're generally more difficult to evaluate. It can sometimes take a few good weeks of listening to distill all the musical complexities into a two-digit rating.
Jazz pianist Matthew Shipp's latest, Pastoral Composure, easily secured itself a place in the "later" pile. I was expecting the album to be typical of today's avant-jazz scene: rewarding, yet difficult to decipher. But as Shipp, horn player Roy Campbell, bassist William Parker, and drummer Gerald Cleaver made their way through seven of Shipp's originals and two covers, my excitement grew. This, folks, is everything a jazz record should be. It's remarkably complex and musically proficient, yet instantly accessible, and a keeper in every respect.
Pastoral Composure seamlessly blurs the line between traditional and avant-jazz. On his cover of "Prelude to a Kiss," Shipp alternates between a smooth rendition of the Ellington classic and violent, claustrophobic bursts of atonal piano. In doing so, Shipp manages to combine the expressiveness of avant-jazz's hyper-emotional blasts with the melodic sense of classic jazz. The benefits of this fusion come through equally clearly in the quartet's schizophrenic take on "Frère Jaques," which frequently breaks down into blasts of orgasmic horns, plunking bass, and thumping piano. Undoubtedly, all four members of this quartet are amazingly proficient players. But even when a song collapses into a more improvisational bit, there's always just enough structure to hold the piece together.
Thirsty Ear released Pastoral Composure as part of their "Blue Series," a procession of recordings designed to "[Marry] jazz's many languages... in a way that will hopefully challenge, probe, excite, and perhaps even anger listeners." While this is perhaps an overly bombastic statement, Shipp has, remarkably, come awfully close to pulling it off. That Shipp manages to walk the line between intensity and dissonance without sacrificing the accessibility of the music is an even greater achievement.
Pastoral Composure plays out like a well-written history of jazz. Traces of everything from Duke Ellington to Miles Davis to more recent jazz innovators like Peter Brotzmann and Evan Parker echo throughout. And the fact that the album will only cost you a measly $11.19-- a good $38.81 less than The New Grove History of Jazz-- is an added bonus.
