These days, the composer and multi-instrumentalist John Zorn is just pumping out music. He’s always been a prolific artist, usually releasing two or three records a year, but lately he’s been on a tear, even by his standards. Allmusic lists ten Zorn records released last year and another five so far in 2016.
This prolific musical output is not surprising, since the man is working with some primo musicians. His new ensemble includes John Medeski (of Medeski, Martin, & Wood) on organ, Matt Hollenberg (who also shreds in Cleric) on guitar, and Kenny Grohowski on drums.
Zorn’s new record The Painted Bird, doesn’t actually feature any of the composer’s oft employed saxophone, but on the album’s nine compositions, his band makes some of the most compelling noise I’ve heard all year.
Throughout his career, Zorn’s music hasn’t been easy to classify. Usually his music’s in the jazz section of the store, but even a casual listen shows he’s taken the genre past its breaking point. Records like Naked City are frantic and explosive, featuring rapid-bursts of noise and distortion. Spillane lurches from lounge beats to spacey atmospherics to Latin grooves to a burst of machine gun-sounds serving up a variable world of music in under half an hour.
Indeed, Zorn has played with almost everyone in the avant-garde, including experimental musicians like Yamantaka Eye and Henry Kaiser, jazz mainstays like Anthony Braxton and Bill Frisell, and mainstream artists like Lou Reed, Bill Laswell, and Mike Patton. The guy likes to take chances, and a surprising number of them work out. This all makes his music so distinctive; even with a record like The Painted Bird on which he’s only a background force as a composer rather than a primary musician, his thumbprints are everywhere. At certain turns the album is loud and abrasive, at others it sounds like traditional jazz. In spite of all this diversity, the sound is undeniably John Zorn, which is why it’s worth diving into.
Painted Bird opens with a vibraphone run and guitar crash in the song “Snakeskin,” which before long settles into a groove – Medeski stabs at his organ, Kenny Wollesen runs up his vibraphone, while Ches Smith and Grohowski alternate between jazz and rock, pushing the music forward. It’s a little like Gary Burton’s 70s records, back when he played with Pat Metheny, but with a much livelier tempo. Yet, Hollenberg’s sludgy guitar gives it a heavy undertone, and his solo work in The Painted Bird has more in common with Van Halen than Metheny.
Regardless of how iTunes classifies this record, it maintains a big hard rock edge. Take “Plague” for instance, where between Hollenberg’s driving riffs often sounding as if he’s ripping his guitar fretboard to shreds and Grohowski’s pummeling drums, the song is as heavy and wild as anything you’re likely to hear in 2016. Throughout the record, the music keeps lashing right at you. There are moments that sound like what you’d expect from a jazz record, but others where the music seems to veer out of control. Even the creative energy conveyed in slower songs, such as album closer “Missal,” makes them just as compelling as the more aggressive tunes.
The key to this record is Medeski’s organ and Wollesen’s vibraphone holding Hollenberg’s guitar together with the rhythm section. Medeski doesn’t often stretch out into runs, but his constancy on organ prevents the riffs and rhythms from growing too far apart. Meanwhile, the vibraphone adds an interesting atonal texture that occasionally dances at the edge of the music, but usually serves as a leading presence. At times, one musician sizzles, while the others dazzle – their sounds play off each other, and on The Painted Bird’s most interesting moments (the hard, almost Latin edged “Night,” the free-wheeling jazz of “Comet,” and the record-closing “Missal”) they’re utterly complimentary.
As a starting point for Zorn’s music, The Painted Bird might not be the best place. I’d suggest Naked City or Spy vs Spy for a good representation of his sound and style. Still, I think folks new to Zorn will dig this record. The album is never too crazy or experimental, and the collision of metal and jazz works better in practice than it does on paper. In any case, it helps to have an idea what to expect. Someone anticipating, say, Diana Krall crooning “My Funny Valentine” will be blindsided by this.