Miroslav Vitous
Universal Syncopations (ECM 1863)

This is the first new jazz record to come out in a long time that I have had any excitement about whatsoever. My tastes are too broad to allow for much tarrying in any one genre for too long, so I could never be one of those (boring old) dudes who laps up every bit of jazz they can get, dutifully following the criss-crossing careers of their favorite players and haranguing their uninterested friends on the topic at every juncture.

My own jazz era burned brightest in the 90s, during which I probably was close to that persona, but after awhile (yes, it's true), a Blue Note is just another Blue Note; an ECM is just another ECM.

What entranced me about Universal Syncopations, otherwise indistinguishable from the steady stream of great, yawny ECM releases, was the particular crew: bassist Vitous, Jan Garbarek on sax, Chick Corea on keys, John McLaughlin on guitar, and Jack DeJohnette on drums. All of these guys played with Miles Davis at one point or another during Miles's floaty electric period, and I was keenly interested in seeing what might come of a meeting of these minds so many years down the road.

Certainly, these days you'd be hard pressed to find a more crack team of players. Each musician is a star in his own right, with many, many great records under his belt. It's been awhile since I've seen a band with such talent come together with so little ego.

So how is the record? Goddamn if I know. I've listened to the thing fifteen times and I still can't get my fingers around it. It's a wet water balloon of a record, always slurping out of your hands, though never smashing onto the pavement. Perhaps a better analogy is that it's a mysterious woman haunting the backstreets of Oslo, always slipping around the corner as you approach to offer her a light.

It's not too far off from Kenny Wheeler's excellent Angel Song album, though a bit more sprightly. Everyone plays acoustically, sort of inverting the expectation of electric-era Miles, and a few tunes augment the band with additional brass. Several passages are spellbinding, when everything suddenly clicks into this snake-charmed trance, before retreating into the basket again to stew in pure potentiality.

Garbarek's trademark near-smooth-jazz tone keeps everything exceedingly gorgeous, and Chick Corea has probably never played this purely pretty. McLaughlin is not notable, but Vitous has some great lines throughout.

It's an absinthe blackout of a jazz record … afterward, I never remember a thing, but my suspicions are assuaged by an overall feeling of deep satisfaction.

Loud Bassoon rating scale

Review by Dr. Baptist