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The Art Ensemble of Chicago: We Are on the Edge: A 50th Anniversary Celebration I'm probably not the only one who wasn't expecting a new album from The Art Ensemble of Chicago to materialize, considering that only saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell and drummer Famoudou Don Moye remain from the landmark group. Yet here we are, fifty years on from the group's 1969 formation and thirteen from its last Pi Recordings outing, 2006's Non-Cognitive Aspects Of The City-Live At Iridium. Admittedly the AEC presented on this 140-minute release (evenly split between studio and live recordings) isn't a modern-day iteration of the quintet; in its place is a seventeen-member unit comprising woodwinds (two Mitchells, Roscoe on saxophones and Nicole on flutes), trumpeters (Hugh Ragin, Fred Berry), bassists (Silvia Bolognesi, Junius Paul, Jaribu Shahid), string players (violinist Jean Cook, violist Edward Kwon, cellist Tomeka Reid), and percussionists (Moye, Enoch Williamson, Titos Sompa, Dudù Kouaté). In addition, Christina Wheeler contributes voice and electronics, Moor Mother (Camae Ayewa) and Rodolfo Cordova-Lebron add vocals to a handful of studio cuts, and Stephen Rush conducts. The release originated out of an October 2018 gathering in Ann Arbor, Michigan where five days of rehearsals and recording culminated in a live performance at the Bethlehem Church of Christ as part of the Edgefest festival. As different as this expanded AEC might seem on paper, in practice its sound isn't wholly unlike the earlier version's. Stylistically, We Are on the Edge upholds certain group traditions, including its propensity for Pan-African percussive jams, collective improvs, and neo-classical explorations. And just as the quintet managed to generate an incredibly rich sound world from an extensive array of instrumentation, so too does the 2019 model, the range and number of percussion instruments alone amazing. Not all the players are new to the AEC fold, by the way. Berry, Ragin, and Shahid have played with Mitchell for years, while Moye's known Williamson and Sompa for decades. The studio half is more ponderous than earlier AEC albums, with drumming and grooves less plentiful than dirge-like meditations. A greater focus on through-composed material is present, the freewheeling improv character of previous releases downplayed. That the AEC today is different from before is evident the moment “Variations and Sketches from the Bamboo Terrace” begins with a strings-heavy intro whose character's more contemporary classical than jazz. That impression doesn't alter when Cordova-Lebron enters to lend the material an art song edge, and neither does it change when Mitchell's flute joins the drums-free meditation. “Bell Song,” on the other hand, hews to the explorative style associated with AEC's improv tradition with, in this instance, muted trumpet snaking through an evolving sound mass built from piccolo, bowls, shakers, triangles, chimes, bells, and gongs. First performed on the 1973 album of the same name, “Chi-Congo” is revisited twice under the title “Chi-Congo 50,” a ten-minute studio version and a much shorter live treatment. Similar in improv style to “Bell Song,” the longer “Chi-Congo 50” finds soprano sax, electric bass, and trumpets wailing on top of a hand percussion-heavy foundation. The title track initially perpetuates the style of the opening piece until a shift occurs with Moor Mother's arrival, her voice testifying vociferously and the title repeated, mantra-like, with variations (“We are on the edge of victory...”). Her spoken word turns on “I Greet You with Open Arms” and “Mama Koko” give them the character of beat poetry exercises, her husky delivery in these theatrical performances making her sound a little bit like Viola Davis. Originally an instrumental on Roscoe Mitchell's Note Factory release Nine to Get Ready (1999), “Jamaican Farewell” is presented in two parts, both brief re-imaginings featuring bright turns by Cordova-Lebron (“Won't you come with me to a land so free...”). “Saturday Morning” enlivens the studio half with much-needed swing, even if it's little more than a four-minute, bass-and-percussion workout; “Oasis at Dusk” fares better when the eight-minute total gives the musicians ample opportunities to assert themselves. The ensemble stretches out on the live disc, with three of the seven tracks (five of them repeats of the studio album) pushing past ten minutes. Though vocals again appear (Christina Wheeler and Titos Sompa replacing Moor Mother and Cordova-Lebron), they do so sparsely, and the primarily instrumental presentation is closer in spirit to the ensemble as previously defined. The band's always been comfortable improvising at length in a live setting, and the seventeen-member unit demonstrates a similar comfort level. A brooding, fifteen-minute rendition of “We are on the Edge/Cards” opens the set in chamber classical mode with the trumpeters, Reid on cello, and Mitchell on flute sharing moments. Much like the studio version, “Oasis at Dusk” leaves a strong impression, the tune's funky groove bolstered by bass and percussion, and with Titos Sompa's vocalizing replacing Moor Mother's spoken word, “Mama Koko” takes on the character of a dreamlike, African-flavoured reverie. The group revisits “Tutankhamun,” originally performed on the same-titled 1974 album, for a twenty-minute rendition that recaptures the playful spirit of the quintet and features Moye prodding the others from the drum chair. Calling to mind AEC performances from the past, Favors' playing is evoked by an extended bass solo, and an improv sequence during the second half likewise recalls the AEC at its freewheeling best. The perennial closer “Odwalla/The Theme” concludes the concert, the rendering here clearly accentuating differences between the anthemic version in 1980 on Urban Bushmen and the slower (albeit still swinging) take on the new release. However satisfying this new incarnation of AEC is—and satisfying it is—one thing missing from it is the levity Bowie's presence brought to the original lineup. His flamboyance provided a refreshing counterpoint to the group's sober side, and needless to say there's little of that irreverence in the new model; the only thing that comes close to that lightness of touch is “Jamaican Farewell,” whose two parts total little more than three minutes. That said, We Are on the Edge impresses as surprisingly strong and vital, and the new additions do much to invigorate the music with their contributions. Bowie, Malachi Favors, and Joseph Jarman are no longer with us, but the expanded ensemble honours their memory with this fine tribute.May 2019 |