Label: Intakt Records, 2020

Personnel - Tim Berne: alto saxophone; Oscar Noriega: clarinet, bass clarinet; Marc Ducret: guitars; Matt Mitchell: piano, modular synth; Ches Smith: drums, vibraphone, glockenspiel.

Making its debut on the Swiss-based imprint Intakt Records, Tim Berne's Snakeoil never looked as cohesive, exciting, and spellbinding as now. Their sixth outing, The Fantastic Mrs. 10, manifests the same appetite for experimentation and freshness, tossing the listeners into a world of curious, organic sounds that stream across ingeniously generated structures. Berne launched the group in 2012 as a quartet - with multi-reedist Oscar Noriega, pianist Matt Mitchell, and drummer/vibraphonist Ches Smith - but added an extra layer of complexity with the guitar of Ryan Ferreira. The difference here is that it’s Marc Ducret, Berne’s long-time collaborator in projects such as Caos Totale, Bloodcount and Big Satan, who fills the position, fulfilling his duties with brilliancy.

The title track opens the record with that stylishly thought-out angularity that characterizes the bandleader's approach, in anticipation of an infectious theme statement that feature him in unison with Mitchell. The rocking rhythm is incredibly gripping, and powerfully expressive improvisations then occur in a variety of settings. Noriega projects his bass clarinet with furious energy; Berne objectively combines sturdy and brittle tones within a predominantly suspended atmosphere that turns into haunting reverie when Ducret’s distorted cries become spasmodic. Mitchell fills and drains with torrential streams of notes before settling in a Jarrett-like chordal work that makes a strong impression on the final statement.

These types of rip-roaring layers can be spotted on other provocative tunes, and the 14-minute “Third Option” appears at the top of the list. In this case, Berne and Noriega trade off jagged punctuations, eventually agreeing on an extended melody connectedness with Mitchell and Smith already on board. I’m sure you’ll enjoy guitar explorations in a dark hued context, insouciant piano outpours backed by active percussion and screeched guitar chops, searing saxophone clamors walled in dreamy yet intriguing auras, and subtle murmuring vibes.

Introduced by glockenspiel, “Rolo” is another serious case, exhibiting sinuous, sloped and tangential courses filled with effective adjustments in rhythm and dramatic variations in mood. Besides Berne, who excels in his fragmented phraseology, Smith’s percussive wizardry comes to prominence.

“Surface Noise” initially revolves around an abstract piano/glockenspiel quiescence until Berne’s urgent lines attract everything to the center. Collaborating closely, Ducret and Noriega lend their peculiar stylings to the piece, which probes an atmospheric tone quality prior to fixate in harmonic cycles with sparkling hi-hat activity and linear saxophone onslaughts.

Immersed in sheer beauty, the sensitive “Dear Friend” by Julius Hemphill is the only composition on the album that Berne didn’t compose, and guitarist/producer David Torn is credited for the electronic arrangement on the folk-imbued closing number, “Rose Colored Assive”.

Rarely an avant-jazz album possesses this unstoppable energy and fascination straight down the line. This is absolutely my favorite Snakeoil work; an essential pick for adherents of addictive modern jazz.

Favorite Tracks:
01 - The Fantastic Mrs.10 ► 03 - Rolo ► 06 - Third Option

Label/Year: ECM, 2017

Lineup - Tim Berne: alto saxophone; Oscar Noriega: clarinets; Ryan Ferreira: guitar; Matt Mitchell: piano; Ches Smith: drums, vibraphone, percussion + guest David Torn: guitar.

Credited for developing an adventurous work within the hard-line of contemporary jazz for almost four decades, alto saxophonist Tim Berne has created almost incessantly since 2012 to feed the repertoire of Snakeoil, a group whose core members are Oscar Noriega on clarinets, Matt Mitchell on piano, and Ches Smith on drums, vibraphone, and percussion. The band’s fourth ECM outing, Incidentals, also features for the second time Ryan Ferreira on guitar (he was in the previous You’ve Been Watching Me), and counts on the atmospheric guitarist and producer David Torn on a couple of tunes.

His soaring guitar prevails in the intro of “Hora Feliz” (the Portuguese title means ‘happy hour’), a tune that before expressing an ebullient extravagance through melodic unisons of sax and guitar, remains nearly four minutes in a sort of atmospheric limbo layered by clarinet, piano, vibraphone, and a shrilling guitar. Buoyed up by Berne and Noriega’s improvised narratives, Mitchell ekes out a variety of extemporaneous harmonic responses, always well backed by Smith’s polyrhythmic punch.

“Stingray Shuffle” starts a crawling process with Berne and Ferreira attempting a deliberately inexact unison turned into thin polyphony. The mood becomes viscerally spectral as a panoply of prolonged, multi-instrumental screeches haunts the scenario, right before the triumphant reinstatement of the theme.

Delightfully inventive and full of twists and turns, “Sideshow” occupies our attention during the 26 minutes it lasts. Never superfluous, this dazzling piece offers us plenty to chew on, from crackling, distorted guitar sounds (Torn is called into action) to the wonderful piano work by Mitchell, and from diversified rhythms and tempos to well-oriented horn-driven paths. The band works conjointly and tightly toward a grandiose epiphany that culminates in a serene auroral beauty.

The confident, action-packed “Incidentals Contact” is first activated by Smith's magical vibes but ends up navigating in those thrilling roundabouts engendered by Berne and amplified by powerful drumming. It develops a complex matrix that thrives with echoing rock momentum as it showcases the Stentorian improvisational skills by the bandleader and Mitchell, followed by a brief and hermetic interplay between Noriega and Ferreira.

The last track, “Prelude One / Sequel Two”, is also one of the most exciting pieces, consisting of two parts seamlessly connected. The prelude, co-authored by Berne and Mitchell, flows at a steady pace with melodic zigzags. The sound is then expanded and transformed into a swollen sonic mass for the sequel, where Berne’s intoxicating inflections are like blazing emotional outbursts. It’s a tour de force finale that makes you cry for more.

Tim Berne continues his sparkling creative saga with the Snakeoil, digging another taut album full of nerve, audacity, and mutual inspiration.