 Kenny Wheeler Where'd all the good jazz go in 1975? As far as I can tell, straight to Manfred Eicher's home stereo unit. ECM, then as now, was putting out release after release of brilliant and pure acoustic jazz, pristinely recorded and marketed with consummate taste. People continued to buy Headhunters in droves, of course. But certainly, Manfred Eicher's jazz world at the time was a much more beautiful place. Who knows how many copies ECM would sell of a release like Gnu High? Once again, sales are the worst judge of an album's quality, with critics' opinions a very close second. This is not a record that transformed the universe then, nor does it blow anyone's mind now. It just lays down some kick ass realjazz, the kind you thought didn't exist at the time. Wheeler's on flugelhorn, with Keith Jarrett on piano, Dave Holland on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums. It's the caliber of band that at one time had been routine for Blue Note, but ultimately became something you could only expect from ECM. That holds true today, as these same guys continue to lay the good shit down. Wheeler's Angel Song is one of the best jazz records that's ever been made, and that one came out in 1997. So clearly, if you haven't already been, you ought to be listening to ECM - sometimes it seems like they're the only ones that really care. One of the things that made Angel Song so great was that Wheeler was on flugelhorn, always a preferable instrument to trumpet in my opinion. Gnu High is less evocative than that album and, though composed of originals, more of a straightahead "standards" type affair. Wheeler plays pretty, sort of like Chet Baker would have been around the same time had his teeth not been kicked in years earlier. Jarrett arguably dominates the session, as he probably would the very argument over whether or not he does. I have a love/hate thing with Jarrett because he's such a prick, but his playing is exquisite here so you can't really argue - or shouldn't, or he'll fire off an angry 500,000 word email within an hour. Holland, who seems to have played on all 190,000 ECM releases since 1881, is inventive and intelligent throughout. DeJohnette mostly lays back but conjures the right sort of mood. Good tunes, good solos – good real jazz, just like I tole ya. Gnu High never gets above steamin' mid-tempo, and mostly hangs around breezin' walk-through-the-park-stoned tempo. Do you need this album? Hell no. Are there countless other albums like it in the ECM catalog? Of course there are. Is the album title horrendous? Indeed it is. But it takes a few steps toward solving, for those of us who were not there and can only fill in the gaps a quarter century later, the Bermuda Triangle-like mystery of where real jazz trumpet went the real between Lee Morgan and Woody Shaw.
Review by Dario Sansabelt |