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Archives: Donnerstag, 23. September 2021


Richard Williams’ fine music blog is now on our blog roll („thebluemoment“). By chance, he has posted, today, a background story about a Barney Wilen album that has just been reissued (with a short appearance of young Jackie Terrasson, whose album „Smile“ has recently been praised by Mr. Klinger). Here‘s my old story (the Deepl version with some refinements) on another Barney Wilen classic, „Moshi“, from August 2017. Etliche Wege führen derzeit zum Schwarzwald, zum Bodensee. Nach Afrika, und nach Paris.

 

They called him Barney, but he was French. Bernard Jean „Barney“ Wilen, born in Nice in 1937. A wanderer between worlds, with a saxophone in his suitcase. Early on he accompanied Miles Davis to the running pictures of the Louis Malle classic with Jeanne Moreau, „Fahrstuhl zum Schafott“.

He played with three quarters of the Modern Jazz Quartet, free jazz and fusion music in the sixties. Jazz history in high-speed mode. Joachim Ernst Berendt brings him to Donaueschingen (1967) for „Jazz meets India“, and while we’re in that corner – he also plays in the legendary Lindau jazz club „Zur Fischerin“. Young Manfred Eicher helps organise the club’s programme and sometimes gets in on the action with his double bass. I was at this very place weeks ago, now a good restaurant, I would have preferred a time machine to my „Forelle Müllerin“.

In the wild year of 1968, the underground also arrived in the Black Forest. At MPS, „Barney Wilen and his Amazing Free Rock Band“ came into being – with Joachim Kühn, Aldo Romano and other cracks, he recorded  „Dear Prof. Leary“. Leary was never a professor, as Jan Reetze recently noted.

His dream: Africa. With the former model from a wealthy family, flag-waver 68 in Paris, girlfriend and filmmaker Caroline de Bendern and a rather large entourage, he set off in 1970 – funds flowing from a cultural foundation. That’s the big dream, the destination: Zanzibar. They sing about the island, but they never get there. If you had followed the planned route, you would have easily died in war zones. Life, jazz, adventure, all one. In 1972 they return.

The result: the album Moshi. Released by a small label at the time, it is celebrated, remembered, almost forgotten, and  an expensive collector’s item. Now the label Souffle Continu has reissued „Moshi“ as a double album on vinyl, with an illustrated book, noted memories and a documentary film by Carolin de Bendern on DVD.

Barney Wilen and his companions spent two years travelling through the Sahara and the Sahel. For African-American jazz musicians, Africa is either their original home or a myth. Pharoah Sanders, Art Blakey, Randy Weston, Don Cherry and many others had been there, some of them for quite a time, and so did European free spirits. The African roots, nourished politically or romantically, were supposed to create a new consciousness during and after colonialist turmoil, utopias of a free life were in demand, but the continent, despite all the changes, still experiences political, social and existential nightmares today.

Countless rock and jazz musicians were drawn to Morocco at the end of the sixties, but not all of them were happy. The foreign country often takes its toll, the intoxication can turn into fear. The double album „Moshi“ is a dazzling collage that does not pretend a fusion of worlds. One plays with locals, makes friends, studies new percussion instruments, sings old and new hymns. The musicians from France get involved with the foreign country skin and hair, get to know the blue people, tribes that stage surreal masked balls.

At some point, the French foundation turns off the money tap, but Caroline de Bendern finishes her film, which is as fragmented as the music and dispenses with any clever off-screen commentary. There have already been enough ethnologists who spread distorted images of Africa with their Western thinking of domination. In some places, life with African friends has something communal about it, jamming through the nights, erotic frenzy, friends for life, and they also encounter death in their close circle.

Barney Wilen died in France in 1996. Only in the last few weeks have I taken a closer look at his life, I got hold of an old soundtrack from a French film noir with Lino Ventura, and I can very well imagine him as a young slag in the jazz club „Zur Fischerin“, in 1968, in Lindau, on the Swabian Sea. Manfred Eicher told me he once had the idea to produce a Barney Wilen record. Never happened. Time runs fast.

2021 23 Sep.

Another motion picture of no dialogue

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If you look at the tracklisting of „When We Leave“, you’ll notice that the songs have only one-word titles. Norwegian trumpeter Mathias Eick likes to let the music speak for itself, and the titles are simply there to provide a small basis for what the music elaborates on.

 

(A review remix is a rare thing. How does it work? You take a review and change it. Extend it. Cut it shorter. Add your own perspective. Make it a dialogue. Strengthen it. Don‘t earn money with it to prevent copyright issues. In fact, this is quite an interesting approach to album reviews. This remix is more on the ornamental side, but there could be texts that only take single phrases and add a very different rating. I’ve done it years ago with a thumbs down-review of a Bill Callahan album who delivered a dub version of one of his song albums. The reviewer didn‘t like it. But I did.)

 

Consider the fact that this is a completely instrumental jazz album, one that relies on imagery and delicate little touches to get its point across. Are you looking for a bombastic jazz record that’s showy and grand? You’re not going to get that here. These are quiet, meditative, hypnotic pieces of smooth jazz (smooth in an adventurous way) that benefit from turning small shifts in tone into a cinematic picture you can get lost in. It fills us in on certain details, while leaving enough to the imagination for us to keep returning to speculate on its mysteries.

 

(Only few changes in this text. For example: „(smooth in an adventurous way)“. Though the original writer, Brendan, has never reviewed this Mathias Eick album, it makes sense to credit the text to him. How come?)

 

What’s amazing about „When We Leave“ is that, while it does seem very personal to Mathias Eick himself, the way he portrays this material can just as easily apply to many of our personal experiences we’ve had growing up. Presenting it as a soft, understated jazz record with many intricate details is just as brilliant, as you can dive right back in to hear whatever small touches you missed the first time around. And it’s not like being soft doesn’t make it engaging either. It isn’t super flashy – the beautiful sense of instrumental storytelling is what makes it so engaging. This is a man who’s able to tell a story without even telling the story. The album is out tomorrow. On ECM.

 

(The whole review stays artfully vague. With some decent observations. In fact, it is Brendan‘s review of the penultimate album from the Norwegian Trumpet player, „Ravensburg“ that has been remixed here. Easy. The same band. Even another album with titles with one word only. The same musical spirit. Just a few updates, like the release date. The band‘s alchemy is rich enough to follow its own footsteps. To reward conscious listening. End of my breakfast notes from Romantik Hotel Rindenmühle.)

Brendan Schroer (remixed by Michael Engelbrecht)

 

Mathias Eick: trumpet, keyboard, vocals
Hakon Aase: violin, percussion
Andreas Ulvo: piano
Audun Erlien: bass
Torstein Lofthus: drums
Helge Andreas Norbakken: drums, percussion
Stian Carstensen: pedal steel guitar

 

P.S. Michael‘s Black Forest Playlist: „Nancy and Lee“ / „When We Leave“ / „Winter Tales“  / „After The Goldrush“ / „The Waterfalls of Triberg“ (live) / ToiToiToi: Vaganten (the origins of this album lie deep in the Black Forest) / Angelo Badalamenti: Twin Peaks (die Obstwiese des Romantik Hotels. Der Wald dahinter. Die Wasserfälle von Triberg. Mehr als ein Hauch Twin Peaks.)


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