Advanced hard bop dispatched by Rivers (all tenor), Jaki Byard, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams. Rivers strikes a great balance between inside and outside tangents; his rough tone puts him in the “new” camp, but the inflections in his phrases are often of traditional heritage. He navigates “Cyclic Episode” (a tune with very attractive chord changes) and the beautiful ballad “Beatrice” with uncommon intelligence, outlining the harmonies as necessary and finding ways to include his abrasive tonal techniques without disrupting the flow of the solos. He’s a shortsighted player who dispatches ideas in quick clips, but he’s very effective at it, and the little bursts of information add up to a larger sum.

The tunes are memorable, like the two aforementioned highlights, or the twisted bop of the title track, or “Downstairs Blues Upstairs”, of which we hear four takes, with the master having the magic balance of tempo and intensity. The supporting trio has a nervous energy, thanks to Williams, and a solid ground, thanks to Carter. Jaki Byard is the wrench in the machine, though; he sometimes falls into anachronistic piano figures that summon decades-old connotations in otherwise modern music - a square peg in a round hole. I don’t want to dismiss Byard’s obvious abilities, but his historical enthusiasm occasionally leads him to inappropriate allusions. At other times, he is a fine foil for Rivers’ style, so the quartet works out in the end. The music certainly works out, and it’s perched on a daring edge.


Contours
May 1965 / Blue Note Connoisseur

With Freddie Hubbard, Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and Joe Chambers, each on top of their game. Rivers’ four compositions are in a gray area between post-bop and more open forms, thus the perfect cast to bring these ideas alive and have them sit, in hindsight, as one of the touchstones of ‘60s jazz. Rivers often gets the “avant-garde” tag, but I hear a lot of structural concern in his writing and playing of this time, as opposed to the unchecked expressionism of more notorious free players. Rivers reaches for certain extremes, yet he does so from an earthbound stance. Maybe that’s why it takes a few listens to fully latch onto this album. Kind of like Miles’ quintet albums to come, the advanced content resonates more with every pass.

“Point of Many Returns”: Dangerous hardbop in the head and during Hubbard’s solo; then Hancock and Rivers (on soprano) ride the harmonic swirls elsewhere. “Dance of the Tripedal”: Dark harmonies mesmerize in a waltz Ornette might have written had he been more schooled. Rivers’ tenor solo wobbles in orbit as Hubbard lurks in the background. The trumpet solo is outward-bound. As Herbie takes over, the rhythm trio goes into an unplanned suspension - a moment of interactive bliss. “Euterpe”: A repetitive, Indian bass figure grounds flute and muted trumpet in an urban raga. Meditative. “Mellifluous Cacophony”: Neither, but close. Jazz Messengers from another planet.

What makes Contours stick in the mind (mine, at least) isn’t necessarily the themes, good as they are, but rather the flashpoints of serendipitous interplay that occur during the improvisations. Hancock’s creativity at the piano is outstanding, as is Chambers’ drumming. The leader plays wonderfully, too. Highly recommended.


Back to Artists

Back to Jazz Shelf home page