Michael Gibbs is a musician of many facets, chalking up credits as a composer, conductor, arranger, producer, and instrumentalist on trombone and keyboard. However, much of his adult life has been devoted to teaching, a role that contributed to a relatively trim discography and a fairly modest profile. Amongst his students was Bill Frisell; subsequently, their association blossomed into friendship and collaboration. For evidence one need look no further than Cuneiform Records’ superb new CD, wherein Michael Gibbs & the NDR Bigband Play a Bill Frisell Set List.
Engaging in a discussion over worthwhile contemporary creative guitarists will find the name Bill Frisell rolling off tongues sooner rather than later. But when the talk turns to active composer-arrangers Michael Gibbs could easily get neglected, and as his career in jazz spans over half a century undeservedly so.
Born on September 25th, 1937 in Salisbury Southern Rhodesia, Gibbs moved to Boston in 1959 to attend Berklee College of Music. He studied there with Herb Pomeroy, but just as importantly received a full scholarship to the Lenox School of Jazz in 1960; the short-lived program started by the Modern Jazz Quartet’s John Lewis brought Gibbs into contact with such major compositional figures as Gunther Schuller, George Russell, and J.J. Johnson.
Gibbs’ “Fly Time Fly (Sigh)” turns up on his fellow Berklee alumnus and longtime friend Gary Burton’s second LP for RCA Victor, Who is Gary Burton? By ’64 Gibbs had relocated to London, his talent on the trombone proving very much in demand; an easy point of inspection from this period is Deep Dark Blue Centre by the Graham Collier Septet from ’67 on Deram.
He also connected with another frequent associate in trumpeter and flugelhorn man Kenny Wheeler while recording The $1,000,000 Collection, a ’67 platter for Fontana by the significant Brit jazz bandleader John Dankworth. Three years later Wheeler appeared on Gibbs’ self-titled Deram effort with guitarists Chris Spedding and Ray Russell, drummer Tony Oxley, bassist Jack Bruce, reedmen Alan Skidmore, John Surman, and Mike Osborne and many others.
It remains an auspicious emergence as leader, and arguably even better is ‘71’s Tanglewood ’63. The follow-up’s title references Gibbs’ time spent at Tanglewood Summer School, where he met up again with Schuller and heavyweights like Aaron Copland, Iannis Xenakis, and Lukas Foss (Gibbs graduated from Boston Conservatory of Music in ’63), and the album cements Gibbs’ rep as a crucial component in ‘70s progressive fusion, one of few that successfully applied expansive jazz-rock ideas to the big band realm.
In ’74, Gibbs returned to the States to become Composer-in-Residence at Berklee, a post he held for nearly a decade; Frisell enrolled at the college in ‘75. After leaving Berklee Gibbs freelanced in New York and in due time he hurdled the pond for London once more; by ’88 he was back in the racks with Big Music through Virgin/Venture. Gigs and the soundtracks for John Woo’s Hard Boiled and Bill Forsythe’s Housekeeping and Being Human followed.
Plus, he rekindled his relationship with the Hamburg-based Nord Deutscher Rundfunk Big Band or NDR Bigband for short, a collaboration that commenced in ’73. Recent fruits of the affiliation include the ’11 release Here’s a Song For You with veteran vocalist Norma Winstone for the Fuzzy Moon label and the ’12 compilation Back in the Days for Cuneiform.
Gibbs was one of Frisell’s teachers at Berklee and in turn a huge influence, but while studying there the guitarist also absorbed tutelage from the late jazz fretmaster Jim Hall (notably a teacher at the Lenox School of Jazz). The bond proved substantial; not only did Frisell and Hall cut the ’08 2CD Hemispheres together, but the older artist’s sheer adaptability, easily fitting into and advancing a wide variety of contexts, from Jimmy Giuffre to Ornette Coleman to Sonny Rollins to Ella Fitzgerald to The Kronos Quartet to the house band for The Merv Griffin Show, is also appreciable in the oeuvre of Frisell.
Early on he was extensively featured on a mess of ECM dates, the first being ‘79’s Fluid Rustle by Eberhard Weber, and he delivered his leadership debut In Line for the label in ’83. Along with playing a key role in the activity of Tim Berne, Frisell’s ‘80s output is dominated by his collabs with John Zorn and his role in the bands of Paul Motian.
Beside an extended string of solo stuff he’s worked with Vernon Reid, Elvis Costello, Petra Haden, Julius Hemphill, Ginger Baker, David Sylvian, Gavin Bryars, Vic Chesnutt, Earth, and more. When Gibbs cut Big Music Frisell was there, and more recently the duo paired for a London Jazz Festival concert with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, an event taking place a few years prior to the ’13 Überjazz Festival performance documented on Plays a Bill Frisell Set List.
Due to the guitarist reserved nature, Gibbs picked the tunes here. The evening began with Frisell’s “Throughout,” the horn section immediately establishing its presence alongside the rhythm team of guest drummer Jeff Ballard and NDR bassist Ingmar Heller. Frisell enters without delay, his tone clean and sharp; within a minute he’s stepped to the fore with ingenious note progressions and increasingly intense strumming.
The economy is also impressive. In less than two minutes Frisell’s in the midst of a trim solo as the horns mingle expressively with Ballard’s snare; inside three and Christof Lauer’s bold tenor sax spot has begun. As he improvises the intensity rises, his fierceness peaking in tandem with Gibbs’ exquisite chart for the ensemble. Frisell reels off a few runs and the piece settles into denouement.
It contrasts sharply with the solo version from In Line and the take with bassist Kermit Driscoll and drummer Joey Baron from Frisell’s Live, recorded in ’91 and issued in ’95 on Gramavision. Here, Vladyslav Sendecki’s piano serves up a fine transition into the terrific “Las Vegas Tango,” a composition also on Whirlwind’s excellent ’13 CD Mike Gibbs + 12 Play Gil Evans.
This standout treatment sticks reasonably close to the source as found on ‘64’s The Individualism of Gil Evans, the band approaching the theme with warmth and just the right amount of flair. Klaus Heidenreich’s trombone unwinds a succinct bit of post-bop business nodding to Jimmy Cleveland’s classic solo of ’64, and emphatic brass arises as the spotlight deftly shifts to Frisell (Kenny Burrell takes the lead on Evans’ Verve LP).
The adroitness of his playing keeps track of the melodic gist; some have labeled him an iconoclast, not unexpected given his membership in Naked City, but Frisell isn’t a noodler and he’s rarely unfocused. Next is a spirited examination of “Subconscious Lee” from the songbook of alto sax giant and Frisell cohort Lee Konitz, and especially enjoyable is how Gibbs lets the NDR enrich the tune without betraying the small-group conception of the original from Konitz’s ’49 debut.
It’s amongst the oldest selections here, with the newest a combination of two tracks from Big Sur, Frisell’s ’13 album for OKeh. “On the Lookout/Far Away” provides a fine showcase for the guitarist on fresh material of his own writing, while also reinforcing the skills of the arranger-conductor, Gibbs wisely weaving the NDR’s brass heavy conception into music that didn’t feature it before.
Even smarter is making room for Frisell and Ballard’s sweet duet on “Misterioso,” though touching on Thelonious Monk’s mastery might seem a no-brainer as it titles the ’87 Soul Note LP by the Paul Motian Quintet. Frisell’s on that record, but he was also in the audience at Red Rocks in ’68 for the touring Newport Jazz Festival. The lineup included Monk and also exposed Frisell to Burton’s band of the period, inspiring him to check out the vibraphonist’s RCA slabs and lending exposure to the writing of Gibbs.
“Monica Jane,” taken from Frisell’s ’94 Nonesuch disc This Land, unfurls in a strong reading with splendid alto by Fiete Felsch, but truly outstanding is a transformation of The Beatles’ “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away.” Frisell fans may recall it made his ’11 Lennon tribute All We Are Saying; it highlights his comfort with pop-rock melodiousness as the handsome tune is enhanced by Felsch’s gutsy soprano and vibrant runs of the chorus by the horns.
Across the post-bebop era numerous pop sources have been cherry-picked and subjected to alteration until they’re eventually transmogrified into something else; occasionally this works, but more often it can leave one wondering over the point. In this case the selection was made because it’s a great song, and anybody familiar will quickly recognize it.
Also a pleasure is “Benny’s Bugle” as immortalized by the Benny Goodman Sextet of 1940, the one featuring pianist Count Basie and string-slinger Charlie Christian. I think I favor Frisell’s trio version from ‘10’s Beautiful Dreamers with Eyvind Kang on violin and Rudy Royston on drums, but this run-through is no slouch. The CD ends on “Freddy’s Step,” the first part of Frisell’s “Some Song and Dance” suite from ‘89’s Before We Were Born. It’s a dynamic closer, its plentiful horns never degenerating into a vamp-fest a la some rock-inclined big band outings.
Those who prefer Frisell stick near the jazz impulse are likely to find this program to their liking. Folks desiring to widen their shelf of Gibbs also have cause to celebrate, for Cuneiform is issuing In My View, another disc with the NDR Bigband. But ears pining for an introduction to the man shouldn’t hesitate in picking up Play a Bill Frisell Set List, for it’s a fantastic encapsulation of composer-arranger-conductor’s artistry.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
