Russ Lossing Trio: Moon Inhabitants
Sunnyside Records
While pianist Russ Lossing might use the trio of Paul Bley, Gary Peacock, and Paul Motian as a template of sorts for his own with bassist Masa Kamaguchi and drummer Billy Mintz, Lossing's is no carbon copy, considering that his trio's been together for twenty-five years and forged its own approach to the form. Like Bley's outfit, Lossing's confidently inhabits that interzone between structure and freedom where compositional guidelines function as blueprints amenable to alteration. Certainly enough of a given song's melodic identity is retained in their interpretations, yet in no way are the three constrained by it. Regulating tempo patterns are eschewed in favour of free-floating pulses, with Lossing comfortable extemporizing over an elastic foundation. How fitting that the group's 2019 Sunnyside release, Motian Music, would honour the drummer when Lossing's own open-ended approach aligns so clearly with Motian's.
Speaking of structure, the pianist opted for an interesting sequence to the set-list for his latest, Moon Inhabitants. Of the eight pieces presented, three are his, but they're sequenced last. Before it, we get two Ornette Coleman covers, a Sonny Rollins treatment, and interpretations of an old Harold Arlen tune and even one by Tchaikovsky. As eclectic a mix as the album is, it registers as cohesive when the trio invests all of it with the same explorative sensibility and performance methodology. If there's a drawback to an open-ended, rubato-heavy approach, it's that a more direct application of swing gets lost in the process, something listeners enamoured with Coleman's own beguiling recording of “Jayne” might miss (even though the version presented isn't short on charm). To that end, Arlen's “Last Night When We Were Young” fares better when its hushed ballad character lends itself seamlessly to ruminative introspection. Teasing at the melody with painterly gestures captures the essence of the material but with subtlety and nuance.
Coleman's “Moon Inhabitants” makes a terrific argument on behalf of the trio when the playing by each member is inspired. Mintz's ride cymbal showers and Kamaguchi's driving bass lock in to the high-velocity pulse, with the two laying a supple ground for Lossing to wail against. He's the default melodic lead, naturally, but each part's integral to the whole. In contrast to its fury, the contemplative handling of Tchaikovsky's “Dance of The Little Swans” maximizes the material's effectiveness when the leader engages deeply with the melody and comes at it probingly from different angles; monitoring the way the trio boldly deconstructs the material before returning it to its recognizable self is fascinating.
That aforesaid note about swing notwithstanding, the tumultuous version of Rollins' “Pent-Up House” definitely gets up to it when Mintz's muscular attack pushes the performance along, Kamaguchi drives the piece forcefully, and Lossing responds to his partners with playful riffing and acrobatic turns of phrase. An ever-churning maelstrom of activity, the pianist's own “Tulip” roils as mightily, while his set-ending “Verse” unfolds in three parts across ten minutes. It's something of a microcosm of the whole when it builds from a slow, meditative intro to an urgent, ever-seeking exploration. The conversational interplay between the members is also clearly demonstrated in the performance.
Were one to count them, the number of jazz piano trios currently operating would probably be staggering, but the opportunity is ever-present for one to separate itself from the rest when group members bring their personal stamp to it. Lossing's trio is no different in that regard, though it's important to note that its identity is defined as much by Kamaguchi and Mintz as the leader. That unaccompanied turns by the bassist and drummer appear in “Pent-Up House” and “Tulip,” respectively, attest to that status. The two might take the lead from the pianist, but they're hardly overly deferential.February 2025