| Funk ain't easy - I'll say that at the top. Riff tunes are a merciless conundrum, offering loads of blank space for improvisers to fill in, but giving them little melodic information to go on. And while those conditions would be a tacit green light to a wide-open-spaces crew, virtuoso drummer Joey Baron has long been into eloquence and earthiness. Some might say bawdiness. His last three discs as a leader were randy affairs. titled to conjure images of oral stimulation of the "ooh. baby, baby" kind. The high-strutting music they contained let you know that ecstacy comes in many torrid guises. That earthiness is laced with grace on this disc of smart-guy r&b. Down Home is ass-shakin music that places poise a notch or three above raunch. With the drummer's Barondown trio thc rccipe was reversed: Ellery Eskelin's tenor sax and Steve Swell's trombone were enlisted to assure a wealth of physicality .This new, hero-laden quartet - Bill Frisell. Arthur Blythe and Ron Carter are all on board - is geared to carouse and cavort. But it never loses its cool. Virginia native Baron has told interviewers that music should be fun. claiming his sound is "loose and slow, the way Southerners are slow." New Orleans regionalism (check that superb cover art) and jukebox soul are what Down Home intends to convey. It wants to be felt, not fretted over. Baron's chosen the right crew for rendering such a plan, Blythe's recent MIA status only makes his tart tone and bluesy phrasing sound that much juicier when he reappears: and in a few ways, Down Home is his showcase. His passionate tone is still his signature. On "Little Boy" he wails thoughtfully. yet it's emotion that clings to your memory. His sound often has a bit of cheek to it. but here, and on "Aren"t We All?" a tart, Tab Smith voluptuousness dominates. Speaking of tone, Frisell lays off the gizmos for this return to roots-it's refreshing. Though certainly no bluesman, he is one of the most imaginative improvisers of the last two decades; between his quizzical comping on "'The Crock Pot" and his jittery solo on "What." he roughs up the style's cliches without displaying an iota of animosity. That slight pulling of punches begets one bugaboo: The date could stand a bit more shit on his shoes. In part, blues has always been about tension, and though r&b's suave demeanor has often assuaged some of its fire, it has also found a way to use anxiety's underpinnings. It took a while before I bought into this music's interpretation of friction, initially deeming the session a beautiful bore. Twenty or so spins have proven that's not the case. Commitment and connection are part of each piece, and sparks do fly. But a tantrum or two might have bolstered the action. That said, the "simplicity" offered up by the leader and the bassist is a paradox of sorts. Complexity is everywhere on the date. Precision, too. Vamp tunes put a load of responsibility sibility on ye olde rhythm section, and these two apostles of intricacy never blink when it comes to the job at hand. All credit to the guy with the sticks in his hands. An agent provocateur, Baron's nudged his crew toward reveling in simple pleasures. |
| Down Beat's Down Home Review |
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