Maria Schneider: Data Lords
ArtistShare

It's safe to say the arrival of a new Maria Schneider album qualifies as a major event. Years are dedicated to the writing, arranging, and producing of her projects, the result a discography that's modest in size yet distinguished. The multiple Grammy-winning composer brings an exhaustive amount of thought to every release, and the care and commitment she brings to the undertaking are always evident in the finished product. Data Lords might be her most audacious and challenging release to date, not only in its double-album size but in its thematic scope. Presented in two parts, the ‘Digital World' and ‘Our Natural World,' the project makes clear the position Schneider holds, the former in her estimation responsible for significant compromises to the quality of contemporary experience and the latter ever more vital as a result. Listeners familiar with The Thompson Fields (2015) and Winter Morning Walks (2013) will already know how fervently Schneider, an ardent birdwatcher, connects with nature; in keeping with that, the ominous tone of Data Lords as a title choice is clearly deliberate.

Established in 1992, Schneider's acclaimed orchestra comprises eighteen musicians, a number of whom have been with her since the beginning. On this recording, the ensemble features reedists Steve Wilson, Dave Pietro, Rich Perry, Donny McCaslin, and Scott Robinson; trumpeters Tony Kadleck, Greg Gisbert, Nadje Nordhuis, and Mike Rodriguez; trombonists Keith O'Quinn, Ryan Keberle, Marshall Gilkes, and George Flynn; accordionist Gary Versace, guitarist Ben Monder, pianist Frank Kimbrough, bassist Jay Anderson, and drummer Johnathan Blake.

Disc one symbolizes a personal take-down of outsized data-hungry companies, and the stance reflects the increasingly vocal position she's adopted against copyright infringement and inadequate revenue compensation from streaming. Like many, she's become increasingly attuned to the insidious ways the digital world has encroached on our lives and lessened connections to our inner selves and the non-digital realm. Schneider didn't flood the ‘Digital World' with synthesizers and electronics, choosing instead a more associative route by featuring Monder's electric playing and on two tracks electronically augmented trumpet. The project begins with “A World Lost,” a dark-hued elegy through which Monder's guitar smolders and Perry's tenor muses mournfully. Of course she's here referring not only to the physical world's desecration but how the inner world and its capacity for free flight have been weakened in this device-saturated age. “Don't Be Evil” follows, the title alluding to Google's original code of conduct (since retired) and the semi-drunken sway of the carnivalesque music intended as a mocking, sardonic critique of a company Schneider calls a “cartoonish overlord.” Monder's again prominent but this time the soloing's spread about, with a blustery Keberle and an elegant Kimbrough emerging from a robust backing powered by Blake's muscular attack.

“CQ CQ Is Anybody There” uses Morse code as a rhythmic foundation, Schneider here associating the communication system with ham radio, a more benign precursor to the internet. With Monder's guitar providing a grungy backdrop and the lurching material writhing in slow motion, McCaslin steps forth with a punchy solo that an electrified Gisbert follows with a woozy turn. It's certainly possible to regard the soloists as disembodied voices struggling to communicate, the collision of acoustic and electronic sounds suggesting the kind of misfiring so common in the internet era. The ethereal tone poem “Sputnik” shifts the focus further skyward, this time to the countless satellites orbiting the earth and a baritone-wielding Robinson soaring across the heavens, the saxophonist voicing the opening theme twelve times, each one modulated up half a step. Closing out the opening half is the turbulent title track, a portentous meditation on AI and the idea that machines might one day take over if the technological path we're on continues. Electrified trumpet again appears, this time courtesy of Rodriguez, as does an equally impassioned solo by Pietro, the alto saxist intending his contribution to be heard as humanity's last cry before it's snuffed out by technology.

‘Our Natural World,' ostensibly the antithesis to ‘The Digital World,' returns us to the composer's familiar terrain, a place where orchestral soundscapes teem with lyrical expression. In being sequenced second, it suggests that in her view recovery from the alienating situation we're in is still possible if we turn off our devices and step outside. A change in mood is immediately felt the moment “Sanzenin” appears, the warm, peaceful setting taking its name from an ancient Buddhist temple in Ohara, Japan and illuminated by Versace's accordion, its resonant gleam buoyed by a hushed backdrop. A sense of childlike joy suffuses “Stone Song” when Wilson's soprano spars playfully with rattling noises sourced from an art piece Schneider acquired from potter Jack Troy. Such lighthearted moments feel a long way removed from ‘The Digital World.'

With “Look Up,” Data Lords locates us firmly within familiar Schneider territory, an uplifting harmonious field where Kimbrough and trombonist Gilkes soar. Named after one of her favourite birds, “Bluebird” perpetuates the soaring tone whilst also capturing the full ensemble venturing down multiple pathways during its expansive eleven minutes. “Braided Together” and “The Sun Waited for Me” build upon settings she created for Winter Morning Walks, the former “All Night, in Gusty Winds” and the latter “How Important It Must Be.” Whereas altoist Pietro distinguishes the reverie “Braided Together” with a lyrical statement, McCaslin and Gilkes elevate the chorale-toned closer, the arrangement amplifying the orchestra's textural richness.

August 2020