Tim Berne, with Tom Rainey & Gregg Belisle-Chi: Yikes Too
Screwgun Records / Out of Your Head Records
Tim Berne's latest suggests he's taken Welsh poet Dylan Thomas's “Do not go gentle into that good night” very much to heart. Now seventy years young, the alto saxophonist, composer, and bandleader continues to roar, this time throughout the double-disc Yikes Too, the first part a studio set laid down at Firehouse 12 in April 2024 and the second an equally fiery live performance captured a month earlier at The Royal Room in Seattle. Both showcase Berne's trio with guitarist Greg Belisle-Chi and drummer Tom Rainey, the former a relatively recent recruit to the Berne fold and the latter a longtime associate who's played with him for decades. Young players should draw inspiration from a long-time visionary like Berne who continues to forge ahead rather than coast. He's always sounded like no one but himself, Yikes Too merely the latest proof.
One gesture does find Berne looking back, though not objectionably. Midway through disc one, the trio pays tribute to his mentor, Julius Hemphill, with a heartfelt ballad titled after and written by the late jazz icon, bandleader, and one-time member of The World Saxophone Quartet. When Berne first arrived in New York City a half-century ago, he tracked down the man who would help set him on his own personal path. With Rainey's percussive colourations nicely ornamenting the others' musings, the trio's sensitive homage honours Hemphill's memory effectively.
Berne's signature compositional sensibility is evident the moment “Oddly Enough” initiates the studio set with a characteristically blistering statement where the players' thorny lines intertwine and collide. Complementing the gritty tone of Berne's music, Belisle-Chi tinges his smouldering guitar with distortion and fuzz, while the ever-volcanic Rainey grounds the piece with eruptive flurries of drums and cymbals. Of course the leader's his usual knotty self as the tune's angular melodies are attacked from multiple angles. The trio's obvious rapport carries over into “Guitar Star,” which follows the guitarist's ruminative intro with a slower exploration that's no less penetrating as it carves a path through a ten-minute forest of brambles and thickets. Note also how smoothly the three effect the gradual shift towards the state of quiet and calm with which the piece resolves. Rainey's the soloist introducing “Yikes 2,” with his partners draping unison patterns over the drummer's freewheeling expression. A particularly arresting episode arises during “Trauma” when he and the guitarist engage in a lively duet that shows how responsive the players are to each other. In a surprising change of pace, “Marmite Woman” swims in gentler waters, with Rainey wielding brushes—even if the take does eventually swell into another frenzied workout. With the metallic crush of “Sorry Variations,” disc one ends with the same kind of bruising fury with which it began.
Making for interesting comparisons, four of the studio set's tracks also appear on the live one. However tempting it might be to regard the second half as a bonus, it's valuable for documenting the trio in a live setting; that said, the playing on the first disc feels no less live when the interactions are so spontaneous and to a significant degree unscripted. The similarities between the takes on “Oddly Enough” and “Guitar Star,” to cite two instances, are greater than the differences. Regardless, “Bat Channel” initiates disc two with high-wire interplay, the three already seething, rumbling, and roiling as they power through the material. As aggressive as the eight pieces often are, they're not without occasional moments of calm, the introspective conclusion to the opener a case in point. An unaccompanied Berne gets “Curls” rolling with a searing, take-no-prisoners throwdown that invites a fiery, blues-smeared reply from Belisle-Chi and aggressive swagger from Rainey. Elsewhere, “Sludge” is classic Berne in its intricacy and muscularity, while “Clandestine” impresses as playfully skittish before morphing into a volatile battering ram. Following it, “Middle Seat Blues” settles the nerves with a slightly more subdued statement that's as bluesy as promised.
The trio's flexibility is demonstrated throughout both discs as the three adapt to the compositional guidelines imposed by Berne. There's turbulence aplenty but with such structures in place the performances never feel like they're veering off the rails. The omission of a bassist might give some listeners pause, and I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge my own preference for one's inclusion. But Berne's clearly content with the sax-guitar-drums format, and truth be told the music's so gripping the instrument's absence hardly registers. Never one to rest on his laurels, the recording finds Berne as adventurous as ever.February 2025