Both a sextet of New York veterans, led by trumpeter extraordinaire Ron Horton, and The Kindness, a quartet of newcomers ensconced in the woods of Idaho, offer musically adventurous and deeply felt recordings.
In an ever-failing attempt to catch up on my listening, here are quick looks at three distinctly different review-worthy albums from the Emily Kuhn Quintet, the Alex Coke and Carl Michel Sextet, and Miguel Zenón and Luis Perdomo.
Day, the second and deeply satisfying release from drummer/composer Rudy Royston and his sui generis Flatbed Buggy aggregation, features original compositions that are rooted in the demotic music of North America and leafed out in a setting of contemporary jazz.
On the morning of April 14, we were saddened to learn of the overnight passing of a longtime, integral, and well-loved member of Albuquerque’s musical community, reedman and educator Bob Gusch. Bob played everything from Brazilian choros to straight-ahead jazz and was always up to learn something new. He loved playing music for people, and the feeling was returned. His light will be missed. We send our condolences to Bob’s family, friends, and colleagues.
Below, to introduce him to those who didn’t know him and to enliven the memories of those who did, I’ve posted a profile of Bob that I wrote for Albuquerque The Magazine back in 2018. A memorial will be held on Saturday, May 13, from 12:30 to 3:00 p.m., at Holiday Dance Studio, 5200 Eubank Blvd.
An old jazz bassist is busking on the street. He’s totally seasoned, been around, and he’s just playing one note. Just one note over and over, and he’s feeling that one note, finding different ways to say something with that one note. A young guy, just out of college, comes up and says, “Hey, man, you know, I play bass, too. Just got my jazz performance degree. Can I play your bass?” The old man gives him his bass and says, “Sure.” So the kid takes the bass, and he starts shredding, playing as fast as he can, as many notes as he can, a total showoff. When the guy finally stops, the old man looks at him and says, “Still searching, huh?”
This joke, passed on to me by my friend Jacqueline Ultan, a superlative cellist, helped crystallize an aggravation about the misuse of jazz that has pestered me for some time. Jazz, the music of freedom and liberation, offers players a unique opportunity to express their feelings, their personal point of view, with no holds barred, but too often, it seems to me, this freedom becomes a platform not for self-expression, but for self-indulgence, for self-congratulation, for showing off.
