As one third of The Bad Plus, Dave King is known for his high-powered drumming and phenomenal precision, fitting qualities for this leaderless trio that makes telepathy seem like a walk in the park. King’s versatile drums are so integral to the band’s organic chemistry it’s hard to imagine the drummer lending his voice to other musical adventures. Yet, he maintains a hectic musical schedule, playing in 8 bands of various styles and configurations. To great effect.
On his new record under his own name, “I’ve been ringing you” (Sunnyside), King hooks up with fellow Minnesotans, pianist Bill Carrothers and bassist Billy Peterson, and makes quiet but intense music. The album consists of 8 songs, including 7 standards tastefully reconfigured for the 21st century and infused with a dark introspection. The record documents King’s deep reverence for the jazz tradition and showcases his impressionistic talents when playing songs in a more “straight-ahead” format. The choice of slow tempos on all the songs emphasizes the meditative mood that permeates the album, which would not be out of place in ECM’s stylish catalogue. In fact, King’s subdued drumming, not so much playing time as messing with it, sounds to some degree like an inspired continuation of the late Paul Motian’s work on Manfred Eicher’s prestigious label.
The opener “goodbye” (Gordon Jenkins) sets the mood, a spacious meditation that never seems to start and actually sounds all the better for it. Carrother’s eerie voicings are an invitation to daydreaming appropriately highlighted by Peterson’ discreet pedal-point commentary and King’s soft touch on brushes and whale songish waterphone. The band continues with Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman”, a respectful rendition that honors the melody by roving around it and stating it in various permutations. As on the rest of the album, that particular song is a striking example of cohesive collective improvisation, drums and bass rumbling along with Carrother’s ghostly lines, constantly interacting with piano. Cole Porter’s “So in Love” is introduced by King”s crisp crackle and features a resonant solo by Peterson, a new name for me that shines throughout the record. Clocking in at 38:45 minutes, the album delivers on a bold agenda, one that finds King reassessing his well-deserved place alongside today’s preeminent jazz improvisers. While the music remains consistently calm, it is executed with an intensity suggesting a brooding storm. There is no mushiness in the way the trio addresses the standards here. Listen to how “If I Should Lose You” gradually emerges from Peterson’s cavernous glissandi, taking shape along meandering lines, picking its way through the murk, with King latching on to piano and bass every nanosecond. The title song and only original that bookends the record is the perfect coda of this suite, picking up where the opener left off. With winter only a couple of months away, it’s a record you might consider playing on a cold snowy day, huddled up under the quilt or late at night, lights out on any given day. Having said that, what will sound like a singular take on familiar territory to the hardcore jazz fan will always sound a little esoteric to the casual listener. But if anything, the record will hopefully resonate with anyone who enjoys the strange intensity of silence.