Tag Archives: William Parker

Free Jazz review by Paul Acquaro

Not so long ago, I had the pleasure of seeing a gig that paired up saxophonist Tony Malaby, drummer Gerald Cleaver, and bassist Ingebrit Haker-Flaten at the tin foil lined JACK Arts in Brooklyn. The music from the trio was just cooking. There was a point in the groups playng when there was no longer a group, but a THING. To start this review, I thought I would first share a video of the gig – expand it to full screen and enjoy:

CF304Tony Malaby’s Tamarindo – Somos Agua (CF 304)
****
The release concert for this gem was at the Cornelia Street Cafe, a tiny sliver of old Greenwich Village – from a time before all the frozen yogurt, macaroon shops and luxury condos. You can still line up to squeeze into the basement of the club and enjoy some insanely good music. Malaby’s Tamarindo hit the stage there last year to play ‘selections’ from Somos Agua, or rather, music like you may find on Somos Agua, because as far as I can tell, this is music that can only really happen once.

This release though does a great job capturing the trio, sounding as alive on the CD as they did on the stage that night. Between the interactions of bassist William Parker, drummer Nasheet Waits, and of course saxophonist Malaby, there is so much to hear. The great strength of Tamarindo, to my ears, is the way Malaby will play inside, outside and all around his saxophone, but never once will it sound out of place with whatever else is happening. Maybe it’s Waits, whose drumming can be subtle and reactionary, exploratory and reserved, or rumbling and aggressive like on the opening “Mule Skinner”. Or maybe credit goes to William Parker, whose participation on a session does not necessarily guarantee its success, but seems to come pretty damn close. His playing, whether arco or plucking a pulsating bass-line, directs individual embers into a mighty conflagration. But no, the credit goes to the whole combination, a trio of musicians who really know how to craft a sound.

As I write this, it may seem that Somos Aguas is a powerhouse of a album, burning on all cylinders, And while these three are more than capable of making your old CD player combust, here they often hold back the volume a bit and explore the tensions and textures. The follow up to Mule Skinner is ‘Lorretto’, in which space is used along with light extended technique to evoke a certain melancholy. ‘*matik-Matik*’, up next, is an upbeat tune that relies on a tasty melody that spins our of Malaby’s horn over time. Here, Parker and Waits syncopated play gives Malaby something in which to get entangled. the group expertly turns up the heat on this one – it is an absolute album highlight. Honestly, almost the same can be said about “Can’t Find You …”, another slow build that reaches an apex and then crumbles wonderfully as the trio deconstructs what they just built.

This outing from Tamarindo is really enjoyable, all three are master at their craft and what they accomplish together is certainly well crafted, but free and exciting. By amping up the quiet – so to speak – Somos Agua’s high points are that much higher and the quieter stretches are nuanced and captivating.

CF318Tony Malaby’s TubaCello – Scorpion Eater (CF 318)
****
“This band has a different type of gravity that playing with just a bassist simply doesn’t have,” writes Tony Malaby about Tubacello, the group behind his latest Clean Feed recording Scorpion Eater. Needless to say, Tubacello, a new configuration for the saxophonist, is a bottom heavy combination – with tuba and cello adding new textures and sounds that are not too often heard in free jazz.

The group joining Malaby is Chris Hoffman on cello, Dan Peck on tuba and John Hollenbeck on drums. It’s not just the instrumentation that make it different, but really in how they jell. In fact, after giving this a listen, I am reminded a bit of how the fantastic Dogon A.D. from Julius Hemphill made my jaw drop when I first heard it – especially in regards to how the cello introduced such rough hewn textures to the lurching grooves. Forty three years later, Scorpion Eater, though a much different recording, still introduces something unexpected and moving in its rich sonority.

The low frequency of the combo is really quite versatile and gives Malaby a lot of room to experiment. For example, on ”Buried’, which opens the recording, the track beings mid sentence, so to speak. The group, already in full motion, shows off its full range of sound and fury between a syncopated melody that introduces and ends the short piece, and leads into the uptempo ‘Trout Shot’. The track ‘Fur’ is a textural piece with sounds floating in the background as the instruments play slow measured lines. ‘March (For Izumi)’ sees the sax playing in the upper register with the cello providing counter motion in the lower middle, while Peck ably handles the bass role. ‘Bearded Braid’ slows things down. The ambient piece unfolds slowly, each instrument taking an extended solo as the song builds to an intense climax.

Tubacello’s instrumentation opens a lot of interesting possibilities – whether it’s providing a ambient canvass on which to build his ideas slowly, or creating deep and effective grooves, the combination works.

http://www.freejazzblog.org/2015/01/tony-malaby-tamarindo-tubacello.html

Point of Departure review by Greg Buium

CF304Tony Malaby’s Tamarindo – Somos Agua (CF 304)
Somos Agua, the third album from Tony Malaby’s trio, Tamarindo, is dense and demanding and may, in some quarters, feel too oblique to merit a second try. Malaby’s sound, especially on tenor saxophone, but on soprano as well, is often subterranean – filled, as it is, with dead ends and these jerky, knotted lines that pull you under, over, and, ultimately, a long way from the figures he’s composed. Unlike his last Clean Feed disc, Novela (2011) – a nonet expertly arranged by pianist Kris Davis – or some of his work as a sideman (from, say, Eivind Opsvik’s Overseas to John Hollenbeck’s large ensemble), where he also sways from husky, multiphonic shards to wicked, pinpoint puzzles, Somos Agua’s signposts blur. For nearly 60 minutes you feel thrown into a maze.

But what an incredible maze it is. Somos Aqua rewards close, sustained listening. It is filled with queries and quickly shifting scenes and the very highest levels of musical interaction. Tamarindo is often billed as a saxophone trio. It isn’t. Malaby is the only horn, but bassist William Parker and drummer Nasheet Waits aren’t accompanists. This is a cooperative, and an extremely accomplished operation.

Malaby’s six pieces run together like a loose, stripped-down suite. Every motif seems to have sprung from an aspect of the group’s aesthetic; the lines mirror how these men work. So a sharp, lock-step figure (“Little Head”) grows into a sprawling, bouncing improvisation. A subtle, seemingly scripted call-and-response (“*matik-matik*”) becomes an electrifying swinger. Everything is drawn for three. The finale (“Somos Agua”), the date’s only open piece, deepens the intensity of the trio investigation: Parker’s grave, arco introduction, Malaby’s squall – husky and stuttering and poised – as the three examine and reexamine, prod and poke, rummaging in the minute spaces between sound and rhythm.

If this trio has very few peers, Waits’s performance should land on its own end-of-the-year lists. His command of the drum set can be frightening. On “Can’t Find You…,” perhaps the record’s high point, his panorama of percussive color and control sets everything in motion. He’ll reassemble the time. He’ll spur the drama. Midway in, things drop down. Waits pauses, before an uprush (cymbals, snare, high-hat, tom), a swirling, driving, terrifically complex notion of time, as things fade, and a remarkable 20-second roll. Parker’s pulse snaps Malaby and Waits into play and, out of nothing, the drummer conjures up a magnificent bounce. It takes 10 extraordinary minutes to get here: a rugged abstraction morphing into a gallop and an unforgettable groove.

http://www.pointofdeparture.org/PoD48/PoD48MoreMoments4.html

Jazz Word review by Ken Waxman

CF 304Tony Malaby Tamarindo – Somos Agua (CF 304)
An essay on the intricacies of saxophone improvisation, New York tenor man Tony Malaby explorers every nuance of reed sounds on this matchless session, backed only by the four-square pacing of William Parker’s double bass and the rhythmic flow of drummer Nasheet Waits. Reminiscent of similar trio tours-de-force by Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson, the seven selections make up a suite whose parts flow logically and seamlessly into one another. At the same time, Malaby’s solos confirm his experimental credo by exposing as many split tones and screeches as emotive flutters and gentling tones.
Never losing sight of the tonal even as his solo explorations appear to produce aural x-rays of his horn’s insides, on the title track the saxophonist’s output is unhurried and relaxed enough to reference the initial theme, even as his dense multiphonics squeeze the last atom of sound out of his horn. Parker’s power stops or sensitive bowing, plus Waits’ crunches and clatters aptly second the saxophone flights. Nonetheless, the most edifying example of the Tamarindo trio’s game plan is the 14-minute “Can’t Find You”. Despite the title, there’s never a moment when the drummer’s intuitive cymbal splashes or drum colors aren’t on track as Malaby stretches stratospheric altissimo cries into slim variations which are finally reconstituted as a powerful narrative. Framing the journey, Parker’s thick stops eventually become supple, supportive strums. With this defining saxophone CD under his belt, it will be instructive to see how Malaby intersects with the local three-saxophones-three rhythm Kayos Theory sextet when he plays The Rex June 27 and 28.
http://www.jazzword.com/one-review/?id=128503

The New York City Jazz Record review by John Sharpe

CF 304Tony Malaby Tamarindo – Somos Agua (CF 304)
While Tony Malaby has many outlets for his burly tenor saxophone, few of them pack the visceral heft of Tamarindo, the outfit crewed by bassist William Parker and drummer Nasheet Waits. Malaby hit paydirt with the trio’s eponymous 2007 debut, built on that success by adding trumpeter Wadada Leo Smith for a somewhat murky live recording in 2010, but has now reverted to the original lineup for the band’s third album, Somos Agua. It’s every bit the match for its illustrious forebears. Heads tend to be sketchy affairs, which only serve to get the real business underway – a series of cohesive collective outbursts.

Malaby is a monster, restlessly creative through all the registers of his horn, from earthy honks to fluent overblowing. But what makes him so fascinating is
that the undoubted power is leavened by a willingness to enlist any resource, whether muffled snorts, hoarse whistles, multiphonic shrieks or querulous wavering cries. Whatever works. Parker has the savvy to follow wherever Malaby roams, able to turn on a dime from gargantuan propulsion to bravura swipes of the bow while Waits blends crisp articulation at high tempos with a playbook of ever-changing rhythmic patterns.

At first blush each of the seven cuts sounds part of an unfettered blowing session, but after repeated listens barely discernible melodic themes become apparent, which briefly surface from the organic ebb and flow (not always at the outset) and fuel further group exploration. Neither tone nor time pass as absolutes in Tamarindo’s universe, shifting unpredictably and stretching or compressing elastically. Malaby forges a particularly strong connection to Parker, manifest most notably on the lengthy discursive conversation between the pair on “Bitter Dream”. But bass and drums don’t always shadow the saxophone, creating a quicksilver threepart counterpoint emerging from more conventional trio transactions. Malaby clearly understands the paradox that it takes a really tight unit to play this loose yet still keep focus.

Gapplegate Music review by Grego Edwards

Tony Malaby’s Tamarindo – Live (CF 200)Soprano-Tenorman Tony Malaby has been getting around much of late, appearing as a sideman or co-leader on quite a few dates, and putting together some very worthy sides as a leader. I’m now catching up with his latest, out a month or so, Tony Malaby’s Tamarindo Live (Clean Feed 200). It certainly has clout and brilliance aplenty. There’s Tony, the bass master himself–Mr. William Parker, a drive-and-bash specialist in drummer Nasheet Waits, and one of the most creative and prolific trumpet wielders active today, Mr. Leo Smith. “OK,” you might say, “You don’t need to say anything more.” Ah, but words-r-us here, so I will go on.

Tamarindo isn’t just a gathering of some heavy cats, an all-star avantiana. No. It’s the ever-shifting variety of combinations and moods that makes this music especially brilliant. Trumpet and bass have a moment to reflect, then drums and trumpet give the moment a little more linear expansiveness, then sax-bass-drums get kicking, and on from there, to give an example.

Each player has something good to say, the ideas flow, the scene changes, something new pops in. It’s a cliche to say that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and it is also not entirely true. The sum of the parts of this quartet date are great to begin with and nobody becomes something other than who they are as players. Yet still there is some kinetic transformation that takes place, as in any great group improvisational moment, that brings the music onto another level. It happens here frequently.

I recently heard a tape of Coltrane practicing “Oleo” from around 1956. It was fascinating. Ultimately though he was running some ideas through with a thought to what ways around the changes he could devise. Hear him do it with the classic Miles group and there’s much more in the way of emphatic speech-making going on. Tamarindo caught live is about the same thing. These are heavy cats speechifying, making musical statements in a collective zone, rather than kind of mumbling through some various ideas as one might do in practice.

And the opposite side of the coin is when players become too concerned with what an audience expects them to do, so that playing in a live situation becomes almost a matter of them playing at playing themselves, each playing a role as an actor that represents himself, but is not actually that self. Perhaps some of the moments of JATP have that quality on occasion, and I think it is not ideal for the best improvisation.

Tamarindo Live has neither of those tendencies–tentativeness or too much of a meta-self-awareness (perhaps a fancy way of saying that somebody is “hamming it up.”)

The point though is the four masters that make up Tamarindo on this disk are making definitive collective statements on some un-expressible subject. They may repeat themselves (as a musical way to proceed), they may backtrack or “change the subject,” but what they are doing has conviction, pacing, eloquence and drama. And I believe that great improvisation, free or otherwise–whatever that might mean, has those qualities. All four of these players have been musicians to watch for a long time. When they get together as Tamarindo and selected other gatherings, they are THERE. Watch for some other cats; Malaby-Parker-Waits-Smith are doing what you were watching for in the first place!
http://gapplegatemusicreview.blogspot.com/

SoJazz review by Thierrry Lepin

Pop Matters feature on Clean Feed by Will Layman

Clean Feed Records and Mary Halvorson: Promises of Good Things to Come in Jazz

If you’re looking ahead in 2011 at what the year—or the coming decade—holds in jazz, then 2010 gave us two stories that portend thrilling music ahead.

First, there is a relatively new record label that seems dead-set on unleashing the full-on floodgates of adventurous improvised music at every turn.  Clean Feed, based in Lisbon and founded in 2001, has become nothing less than a force of nature, releasing exciting music in big, fat batches.  Snaring big name artists, yup, and also promoting the little guy, Clean Feed is supernatural.  Clean Feed is my hero.

Among the artists showing up on Clean Feed in 2010 (and elsewhere too, importantly) was guitarist Mary Halvorson.  Halvorson is the furthest thing from another Berklee-trained pentatonic wonder.  She’s all edge and all charm at the same time, someone whose pedigree includes Wesleyan University and Anthony Braxton bands, but also a gentle duo or two.  And in 2010 she released what may have been the most surprising—and promising—disc of the year.

Two trends to watch, right here.

Trend One: Clean Feed Can’t Be Ignored
When your regular, everyday jazz critic comes home from a day of doing whatever he does to make some scratch for rent and food and the occasional new pair of Pumas, he finds a package leaning against his door.  If it’s a skinny package, then it might be a new recording from Blue Note or Sunnyside—a good day, for sure.  But if it’s a big thick package jammed with seven or eight new releases at once, baby, it’s from Clean Feed.

He tears the manila envelope open and finds beautiful art adorning thin cardboard CD packages, and beyond that nothing is predictable. He might not know Matt Bauder (an adventurous reed player), but he sure does know James Carney and Stephan Crump.  Unfamiliar with James Robinson?  But he’s playing with the pianist Anthony Davis, one of his favorites.  The Convergence Quartet is new to him, but—Holy CRAP!—look at the band Tony Malaby has put together on Tamarindo Live.

He’s tired, so he’s excused if he doesn’t get around to putting on any of these many discs right away.  But he’s just got to hear them.  What is the deal with Clean Feed records anyway?

Clean Feed’s website is modest and slightly out-of-date.  Who has time to update the “About Us” page when you are putting out almost 50 recordings in 2010 by bands from all over the world, recordings that span styles and sounds with flying abandon?  Here’s some of what the label says about itself:

“Clean Feed was founded in 2001 to release Portuguese and foreign musicians in separate and cooperative projects.  The label was also created facing the whole world as its operating ground, taking advantage of the Internet revolution and the increasing global music market.  Very quickly, Clean Feed found itself at the vortex of the international creative jazz scene, releasing projects that reached far beyond what we could initially imagine…  Clean Feed aims at recording innovative contemporary jazz projects that can make a difference, building a catalogue that will be internationally recognized by its quality and coherence.”

The judgment is George W. Bush-isms simple: Mission Accomplished.

It would be impossible fully to do justice to the work of Clean Feed in 2010 in a single column, but here is a limited snapshot of some (and way too few) of my favorites.

Clean Feed Gives Musicians Room
Take the Crump/Carney duet album, Echo Run Pry.  Like some classic jazz LP from the ‘70s, this recording consists of just two tracks, 20-plus minute free improvisations that unspool gradually and beautifully.  (The model for Crump and Carney may have been the 1976 recordings on Improvising Artists by Sam Rivers and Dave Holland.)  These duets are free and sometimes dissonant, but they are clear and melodic too—patient and surprising and uncommonly gorgeous.  Carney is reaching into his instrument to pluck or mute strings, turning the piano into something exciting but not snarling, and Crump is rich in tone and every bit the piano’s equal.  Grooving, swinging, free, mind-blowing.

Clean Feed Let’s Stars Play Around 
For a small label, Clean Feed sure is hauling in some big jazz names.  Maybe not the Diana Kralls or Wynton Marsalises, but few jazz players have risen faster in the last few years than alto saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa.  But here he is recording for Clean Feed along with another big name—Steve Lehman.  The two alto players share a sound and sensibility, of course: a jagged but precise kind of linear blowing that transcends “inside” and “outside” clichés and thrives on new kinds or arrangements, complex patterning, and acid-toned energy. 

So Dual Identity, which pairs the two in a quintet with Liberty Ellman’s guitar, Matt Brewer on bass, and Damion Reid on drums, is both a jazz event and a bit of an indulgence.  The two leaders snake around each other on nervous fast tunes and obtuse ballads, sounding quite similar in some ways, working out like kindred spirits who need to push each other hard.  Ellman gets to play plenty of beautiful textures, but he also moves in tandem with Brewer to create grooves.  This wasn’t my favorite disc of the year, but it has a thrilling all-star quality to it, like watching Lebron James and Dwayne Wade finally play on the same team.  Like the Miami Heat, it mostly works.

Clean Feeds Give Us New Names, Old Names
Some musicians hide from the public.  They disappear and teach.  Or they play locally and never quite get on your radar.  Or they play outside the center of one style somehow.  For me, one of the “lost” jazz masters of the ‘70s and ‘80s is pianist Anthony Davis.  Davis made a series of recordings for India Navigation featuring flutist James Newton, trombonist George Lewis, vibist Jay Hoggard, and others that defied category in delicious ways. 

Then, quite deliberately, Davis—trained classically at Yale—started composing music that was not jazz in any meaningful way, including pieces for his ensemble Epistome and eventually opera as well (X about the life of Malcolm X).  Once in a blue moon he would appear playing jazz, each time seeming like a long lost, but favorite, uncle.  Cerulean Landscape pairs Davis with saxophonist and flutist James Robinson, now a professor at Amherst (and a former student of Davis’s at UC San Diego).  It’s a lush and expansive set of seven tunes by both men, reflecting influences from Ellington to Cecil Taylor to classical and folk music.  It gives you the sense that original, thrilling music is awaiting you beyond the clubs and concert halls.  Anthony Davis is still here, pulsing with life, and musicians you’d never heard of are pulsing right along with him.

Clean Feed Encourages Surprising Collaboration
In real life, there are working bands, sure, real bands that stay together for years and develop on records over time, scrutinized by fans.  But in jazz there are even more bands that come together for one night or one tour, one project, create some magic then split.  Those special occasions too often miss the ears of even the ardent fan.  But Clean Feed is giving many of these assemblages a chance for immortality.  How about this band:  Tony Malaby on tenor, Wadada Leo Smith on trumpet, New York bassist extraordinaire William Parker, and Bandwagon drummer Nasheet Waits.  Tamarindo Live catches them live at the Jazz Gallery from June 2010, playing free and fantastic.  Malaby sounds unleashed on soprano sax, buzzing and twirling, Smith is clarion at times and always a rhythmic marvel, and the rhythm section feels like a trampoline: pliant and yet firm.  You missed this gig because you weren’t in town that day?  Clean Feed brings it to your door.

Clean Feed Crosses Oceans, Easily
Based in Lisbon, Clean Feed isn’t hung up on nationality, race, location, culture.  In the Clean Feed playground of improvised music, the monkey bars are open to all.  A good example is Pool School from the Tom Rainey Trio.  Rainey is a delicious drummer who I associate with the aggressive and wide-open playing of Tim Berne, but who has the skill and sensibility to play just about anything, funk to free and back again.  This trio brings in US guitarist Mary Halvorson and saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock, born in Germany but based in London.  And while this is certainly “free jazz”—in that Laubrock plays with little regard for standard harmony or tonality, Halvorson plays textures as much as she does chords, and Rainey is constantly fracturing any steady sense of swing or straight time—the tunes are brief (mostly four-five minutes) and concise, with each player committing to a framework and not just going on-and-on-forever-already.  While they sound freely improvised, the clarity of each track suggests a magical guiding hand.  If only all jazz, free or otherwise, played by musicians from around the globe had this focus.

In 2011, Clean Feed already has five releases, including a live date from Mostly Other People Do the Killing (with a hilarious cover parodying The Koln Concert).  Are you drooling a little bit?  You should be.

Trend Two: Mary Halvorson Is Coming For You
The Tom Rainey Trio disc on Clean Feed features the guitarist Mary Halvorson, and in 2010 she is the other emerging story.  Halvorson has been playing in New York since 2002, after studies at Wesleyan and The New School.  But the chance that you would mistake her for, say, Pat Metheny or John Scofield is zero percent.  Halvorson’s style is fragmented and cuts utterly loose from conventional jazz patterns.  And while she plays a huge hollow-body Guild guitar with a fairly clean sound, she is quick to bend her notes, frazzle her lines, leap and crackle, pluck and pull and strike her strings against convention.

But here’s the thing:  for all the veering away from conventional melodic form, you can’t stop listening.  Halvorson captivates.  And I’m not sure you’ll be able to figure out why.  For all her lack convention—indeed, her self-described “weird”ness—she is extraordinarily musical.

Though Halvorson leads several bands and plays regularly in (and records regularly with) a dozen others, the news in 2010 was her first recording with The Mary Halvorson Quintet, Saturn Sings.  This disc is special in Halvorson’s catalog because it gives fuller expression to her fascinating compositions.

“Miles High Like (No. 16)” is underpinned by typical Halvorson guitar work: stabbing patterns, oddly timed jabs and scratches, droning repetitions.  But riding atop this is a coolly harmonized set of keening melodies played by Jonathan Finlayson on trumpet and Jon Irabagon on alto sax.  As Finlayson solos, Halvorson grows more and more agitated beneath him, bending her chords, scratching at the strings, then finally playing what amount to mad rock chords.  This music is weird, sure, but with Finlayson it’s also deeply melodic and rollicking fun.

“Sea Seizure (No. 19)” is just for the trio, and it actually just rocks.  Halvorson starts by a playing a single distorted note in a hammer of repetitions while drummer Ches Smith provides solid backbeat, then they both shift into a syncopated groove beneath an oddball arpeggio.  When Halvorson improvises, then, there is no chord pattern to follow but just a rhythmic blueprint that could go almost anywhere.  And as with all of Halvorson’s music, things do go anywhere and everywhere.  Could she play a straight bebop line if she wanted to?  That certainly is not in the DNA of her style, but who really cares?  She plays with plenty of precision when she wants to, and this band proves that repeatedly as bassist John Hebert or the horns lock in with her notes.

Saturn Sings proves that the idiosyncratic shapes of Halvorson’s melodies are not merely the sounds of someone freaking out on the guitar.  Her odd melodic forms can sound vaguely random (if thrilling) on the trio tunes, but the cascades and marches, Blakeyisms and singsong ballads that she composes for the horns become wonderfully balanced counterpoints to her guitar.  In fact, as “avant-garde” as Halvorson’s basic aesthetic may be, a tune like “Crack in Sky (No. 11)” is flat-out lovely.  Irabagon’s alto solo lilts and dances, and the guitar accompaniment comes close to sensitive comping while still retaining certain trademarked bends and flutters.  Amen, Mary!

The reason Mary Halvorson is giving jazz a nice little thrill about now goes beyond the quality of the music.  Partly it’s that she is different.  Not insignificantly, she is a woman in an art form that—despite how little we write and talk about it—is weighted madly toward men.  She’s not a singer or a pianist but a guitarist with a caustic sound.  That is very different.  And her sound does not come from and then deviate from jazz’s mainstream of bop and post-bop orthodoxy.  Halvorson’s art begins with an assumption of huge freedom, so it doesn’t become “free” by violating the norms she learned in music school.  This second generation liberty, in not being a reaction against anything, feels utterly sincere and balanced.  It’s the closest thing in jazz guitar playing to the piano styles of Matthew Shipp, Vijay Iyer, and Jason Moran that have been the other main story of the last five years in jazz.

Mary Halvorson smiles.  Her music sounds like a fresh, brisk rain shower.  She works noise and charm into the same track with ease.  She plays with anyone and everyone who needs a new sound on guitar.  And—of course—you can find her on Clean Feed releases.  The promise of 2011 in jazz is bright.
http://www.popmatters.com/pm/column/136606-two-2010-stories-to-remember-in-2011/