The genially ambling final track on tenor saxophonist Kyle Nasser’s latest album Persistent Fancy – streaming at Bandcamp – is titled Coffee and Cannabis. If you like those two things, you’ll probably like the album. He’s playing a trio show at the Bar Next Door on Feb 21 at 8 PM; cover is $12..
True to the title, that song has a dichotomy: balmy sax over guitarist Jeff Miles’ growling, expansively resonant chords, the loose-limbed 4/4 groove supplied by pianist Dov Manski, bassist Nick Jost and drummer Allen Mednard. Nasser takes his album title from the same poetic source that Iron Maiden drew on for their longest epic, which might explain Miles’ shreddy solo later on.
For those who can think outside the box enough to handle boisterous P-Funk buffoonery and enigmatic postrock in a jazz context, this is an entertaining record. Yet much of it is also very serious. Nasser takes considerable inspiration from literary rogues from throughout history: as he points out, they’re invariably more interesting than the good guys.
His fluttery microtones in the opening cut, Split Gut brings to mind Joe Maneri, but more straight-ahead, harmonizing and then trading off with altoist Roman Filiu. The second track, Arrival, foreshadows the carefree/gritty sax/guitar dialectic of the closing number, Manski taking off for Mars with his wry Bernie Worrell-ish portamento synth.The epic Ascent of Henry Monmouth traces a certain Shakespearean king’s journey from Falstaff sidekick to conquistador, a pensive stroll punctuated by moments of wary humor and sharply focused solos. The title track is also a study in contrasts: goofy wah-wah riffs versus tightly wound horns over insistent syncopation, woozy synth solo followed by Miles’ sharp-fanged attack. CBD espresso, anybody?
The Baroque Suite, a triptych, is divided up into a prelude, fugue and improv. The first part juxtaposes a more easygoing take on Rudresh Mahanthappa’s bhangra jazz with glimmering neoromanticisms and trippy Sun Ra twinkle. The second has a playful, shuffling interweave, which goes doublespeed up to an irresistible quote for a coda.
Sticky Hipster is a catchy, distantly latin-tinged, offbeat instrumental rock tune, Nasser following Miles’ uptight shred with a cool-headed solo, Mednard’s sotto-voce vaudevillian romp kicking off a final anthemic verse. The Eros Suite, another triptych – hmmmmm – opens with the saxes and drums playing cat-and-mouse, then Mednard predictably drives it home. There’s also a tongue-in-cheek boudoir theme for a postlude:. It’s allmost painfully obvious, but it’s going to go viral once enough college kids discover it.
3-Way, Nasser insists, does not refer to the preceding topic but to a conversation, in this case mostly between edgy guitar and bright sax work. The album also includes a jazz remake of a Hindemith theme