In December of 2020, the pianist Frank Kimbrough passed away far too soon. Noted for his extended role in the Grammy-winning orchestra of Maria Schneider, Kimbrough was also an extensive collaborator in smaller groups, including three discs as part of the Herbie Nichols Project. Additionally, he led his own quartet, and fitting for a pianist, exceled in the trio configuration, which is what’s heard on Palmetto Records’ 2003-2006: Volume One: Lullabluebye / Volume Two: Play in two distinct lineups, one with bassist Ben Allison and drummer Matt Wilson and the other with bassist Masa Kamaguchi and drummer Paul Motion. The 2CD is out Aug 12, with a 4LP set scheduled for December.
Frank Kimbrough’s influences are unimpeachable. Alongside the perpetually undersung Herbie Nichols, there is Bill Evans, Thelonious Monk (Kimbrough’s exquisite 6CD set Monk’s Dreams: The Complete Compositions Of Thelonious Sphere Monk, was released by Sunnyside in 2018), Paul Bley, and Andrew Hill, with the last two distinguished as mentors for Kimbrough (who was born in 1956).
Listening to 2003-2006, the nature of this relationship with Bley and especially Hill comes into sharp focus, as the pianist’s playing is at once cerebral and highly accessible, and right off the bat in the melodically grooving opening title track of Lullabluebye, a set recorded at Maggie’s Farm, the studio of Palmetto founder Matt Balitsaris, in April of 2003 and first released the following year; it and Play, which was also recorded at Balitsaris’ Pennsylvania-based studio just a smidge over two years later (and issued in 2006), will be making their vinyl debut in December.
“Lullabluebye” is one of eight varied Kimbrough originals on the first set, alongside the meditative “Ghost Dance” (inspired by the music of Annette Peacock), the jauntily catchy “Fu Bu” (a bit of a dis to the US prez of the time), with Allison and Wilson killing it throughout, and my pick for the Lullabluebye’s standout piece, the wildly energetic “Whirl,” a tour de force blending thorny structure and freeform execution; it was often this trio’s set closer. But for the album’s finale, “Eventualities” begins with Kimbrough in solo mode, the playing contemplative as the emerging trio action is beautifully intense.
The two non-Kimbrough compositions join with “Lullabluebye” and “Kid Stuff” to deliver the record’s most inviting, approachable moments, “Ben’s Tune” (by the bassist) and a bossa nova-tinged take of John Barry’s “You Only Live Twice,” an invigorating choice for a “standard,” as it hasn’t been worn thin by a multitude of prior versions. On that note, “Centering” unwinds with the warmth of a standard, but no, ‘tis a Kimbrough tune.
“Ode,” which was written in tribute to Andrew Hill, also has the air of standard, but subtly progresses into a powerhouse of elevated discourse further enhanced by Balitsaris’ remix of the recording, which emphasizes the group’s interaction, a tactic also beneficially employed on Play that also renders the differences between the sessions in vivid detail.
Opening with “Beginning,” a ballad, the distinctiveness of Play is immediate and further enhanced by the uniqueness of Kamaguchi and Motion on their instruments. The pop-jazz (not smooth jazz) angles of the previous set are essentially gone, as Play is reminiscent at times of Bley in a trio setting (contrasting, Lullabluebye reminds a bit of Hill’s more grooving side, e.g. Grass Roots, though obviously scaled to a three-piece lineup).
For Play, Kimbrough brought seven compositions, as Motion contributes two, the knotty “Conception Vessel” and the title track, a pretty excursion where the composer’s circular percussion motif stands out. While “Beginning” goes deep, “The Spins” gets the set properly cooking, and late in the record, “Little Big Man” raises the intensity for a highlight. “Lucent” takes a lyrical turn, but the moody “Waiting in Santander” is more representative of the record’s overall thrust.
There are, of course, a few asides, such as the gemlike “Jimmy G” (that’s for Giuffre, not Garrison), which sports a melody recalling Monk a bit, and the piano-bass duos of “Regeneration” and at record’s end, “Beginning 2.” But what’s consistent across both of 2003-2006’s discs is Kimbrough’s abilities as a composer, a communicator, and an improvisor, plus his melodic touch. What a player! He will be sorely missed.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
