Charles Lloyd Quartet
Rabo de Nube
ECM
I’m not a diehard Lloyd acolyte.
There’s some stuff in his huge catalog that is deliriously good, like
Flowering and Journey Within from the ’60s, and Voice In
The Night with Dave Holland, John Abercrombie, and Billy Higgins
from the late ’90s. But his last one, Sangam, left me cold—a
saxophone wankfest through a thicket of beats, laden with faux spirituality
that was too pretentious (or perhaps too profound) for me to fathom.
But I’ll gush about Rabo
de Nube, a live quartet album (something Lloyd used to do regularly
four decades ago) in which the 70-year-old sensei may be the most staid
and least creative member of his band. The fusillade-oriented approach
drummer Eric Harland used in tandem with tabla player Zakir Hussain
on Sangam is more effectively propulsive (like Billy Kilson sounded
in Holland’s band) coupled with bassist Ruben Rogers. Harland steals
the show on "Prometheus," supporting Lloyd with a plush density
of beats that, like gusts of wind in sails, carries instead of shoves
the rhythm. Rogers complements him with enthusiasm and delivers noteworthy
solos on the first three songs to boot.
But the best thing about
Rabo is how well pianist Jason Moran fits in, and enriches, Lloyd’s
somewhat ethereal aesthetic. His glancing harmonies on "Prometheus"
and inspired blues turn on "Migration of Spirit" are the prelude
for his two-part tour de force on "Booker’s Garden." His first
solo begins regally, but just when it appears headed for cocktail piano
clichés, Moran drops in some slightly dissonant, modal phrases, then
winds the pace down to a near-standstill, his elegiac moments of near-silence
(the piece is a Lloyd’s tribute to the late trumpeter Booker Little)
slightly upturned at the end. His second solo is the pinnacle of
Rabo, an audacious juggling of the offhand funk and boogie woogie
(built up from single-note vamps) you might expect from Jaki Byard,
and the sort of spectral leaps and resonant flurries that characterize
the work of former Lloyd pianists Keith Jarrett and Brad Mehldau, and
Harland’s superb accompaniment is pomade, glistening the luster.
Lloyd varies between tenor,
flute, and, for "Ramanujan," taragato, on which he sounds like Coltrane
playing soprano sax. I’ve generally preferred it when he harkens to
his Memphis roots or otherwise plays straight ahead, so his lively variation
on "Sweet Georgia Brown" (entitled "Sweet Georgia Bright") is
a favorite, along with the lone cover song of the concert, a closing
rendition of the title track by Silvio Rodriguez that makes for a soft,
lyrical landing.
**** (Four stars)