🎵
Artist: Bill Frisell

The Intercontinentals

🏷️ Jazz 📅 2003 💿 CD ⭐ ***

Field
Jazz
Recorded
2003
Label
Nonsuch Records
Pressing
Am
Rating
***
Discs
1
Media
CD
Bought
20-Aug-2007
Cost
¤0.00

📜 Artist Biography

The defining characteristic of any given jazz musician is frequently his sound. The more control a player has over the nature of that sound, the more likely he is to project a distinctive musical personality. For example, a saxophonist has virtually unlimited physical control of the sound that comes through his horn, and therefore a wide range of tonal expression at his command -- which partially explains the disproportionate number of saxophonists in the pantheon of great jazz musicians. On the other hand, few electric guitarists inhabit that realm, in part because the typical jazz guitar sound differs little from player to player. In general, guitarists do not have the same degree of physical control. Without the use of signal processing -- which jazz purists shun -- they're mostly stuck with the generic sound that comes out of their amp. Hence, guitarists have historically tended to "sound" more or less the same.

Bill Frisell is a notable exception. Among jazz guitarists, Frisell is unique in his exploitation of variable timbre. Frisell's sound swells and breathes like a saxophonist's (interestingly, Frisell played clarinet as a child). In many ways his sound is reminiscent of a pedal steel guitar. And although his work is steeped in jazz, Frisell is a man of catholic tastes. His music includes characteristics of rock, country, and bluegrass, among various other styles. Such liberality explains his willingness to expand his tonal palette beyond that of the typical jazz guitarist. Where so many conventional jazz guitarists define themselves by how many notes they can play, Frisell has carved a niche by virtue of his sound. His ability as an original, lyrical player of melody combines with a unique (if much imitated) sound to make him one of the most singular musicians of his generation.

Born in Baltimore, Frisell grew up in Denver, CO. He began playing the clarinet in the fourth grade. Frisell took up guitar a few years later for his personal amusement. He continued with the clarinet, playing in school concert and marching bands. Frisell briefly considered playing classical clarinet professionally. He played guitar in rock and R&B bands as a teenager (high school classmates included Philip Bailey, Andrew Woolfork, and Larry Dunn, future members of the funk group Earth, Wind, and Fire). He discovered jazz in the music of Wes Montgomery, and began to study the music. Dale Bruning, a Denver-based guitarist and educator, fed his fascination with jazz. Frisell decided to make guitar his primary instrument. After briefly attending the University of Northern Colorado, he moved to Boston in 1971 to attend the Berklee School of Music. There he studied with Michael Gibbs and John Damian. While at Berklee, Frisell connected with other like-minded players (Pat Metheny was a classmate). He also studied with Jim Hall, who became an important influence, especially in terms of harmony. In the mid-'70s, Frisell began moving away from pure bebop and began fusing jazz with his other musical interests. At about this time he began developing his atmospheric, quasi-mictrotonal style. He discovered that, by using a guitar with a flexible neck, he could manipulate the instrument's intonation. A combination of experimental techniques and signal processors like delay and reverb gave Frisell a sound unlike any other guitarist. In the late '70s he traveled to Belgium. There he met Manfred Eicher, the founder of ECM Records. Beginning in the early '80s, Frisell recorded prolifically for the label, as leader and sideman with such musicians as Paul Motian and Jan Garbarek. He continued with the label throughout the decade, earning a reputation as ECM's "house guitarist." Frisell became much acclaimed by critics for his sophisticated yet accessible work. Frisell moved to New York in the '80s, where he worked with many of the most creative musicians active on the city's "downtown" jazz scene. In the '80s and '90s he would record and perform with a huge variety of artists, not all of them jazz musicians. Collaborators would include rock and pop musicians (drummer Ginger Baker, singers Marianne Faithfull and Elvis Costello), experimental jazz musicians (saxophonist/composers John Zorn and Tim Berne), and at least one classical composer (Gavin Bryars). Frisell composed soundtracks for the silent films of Buster Keaton. His 1996 album Quartet won the Deutsche Schallplattenpreis, the German equivalent of the Grammy. Frisell became an annual winner of various magazine polls for his solo work and recordings. By the end of the '90s, Frisell was one of the most well-known jazz musicians in the world, with an audience and an aesthetic that transcended the boundaries of any given style. It should be mentioned that, while Frisell is best known for his somewhat "ambient" guitar technique, he is a swinging, harmonically fluent jazz player when the occasion warrants. Frisell moved to Seattle, WA, in 1989, where he lives as of this writing.

— Chris Kelsey

✍️ Record Review

Bill Frisell has been actively — some would say obsessively — exploring the depths and dimensions of American roots music since the release of Nashville in 1997. His subsequent recordings — Ghost Town, Gone Just Like a Train, Blues Dream, Good Dog, Happy Man, and The Willies — were all approaches to the various folk styles that originated on American soil: country, blues, bluegrass, field hollers, jazz, and others. He has successfully been able to blend, extract, adapt, and otherwise morph one set of music onto another through his own approach to guitar playing — the song. More than any other contemporary guitarist, Frisell is driven by the notion of song — what it entails, both in terms of musical and cultural expression, and what it implies. On The Intercontinentals, Frisell continues his investigation of American music, but as a way of understanding how it entwines with the folk musics of other nations. Onboard for this outing are Frisell's longtime collaborators Jenny Scheinman; pedal, dobro, and lap steel guitarist Greg Leisz; as well as Brazilian mega-guitarist and songwriter Vinicius Cantuaria; Greek-Macedonian vocalist and oud player Christos Govetas and Malian percussionist and vocalist Sidikki Camara. Frisell had played with Camara and Malian uber-guitarist Boubacar Traore a couple of years before and was intrigued enough to explore the connection further. The result of this unlikely union is one of the most seamlessly beautiful works Frisell has ever produced. On it, he and Cantuaria delve into the modern Malian guitar and percussion sound pioneered by Ali Farka Toure; blend it with the timeless emotional resonance of Greek folk songs via Govetas' oud and infectious Brazilian lyricism; and filter it through shimmering country landscapes and otherworldly string textures that reinvent harmonic properties to suit the lyric of the blues, song, indigenous folk musics, and the contemporary improvisational ideal.

Frisell composed the lion's share of the tunes here, but there are also contributions by Gilberto Gil, Traore, Govetas, and Cantuaria. Scheinman's violin acts as a gorgeous signpost for virtually all of these musicians to return to; her melodic sensibility and crisp tone are beacons in the often swirling, escalating, and/or cascading whorls of plucked strings, playing as many as four melodies simultaneously with winding, almost knotty scalar interchanges. What is most fascinating is that even in the vocal tunes, or those where the Malian blues effect is the prominent force, everything else in the mix fans out and creates often contrapuntal backdrops for elegant and lush, if dense, textures. Simply put, this is the busiest record Frisell has made in years, but it doesn't feel like it. His sense of "song" is so pervasive, everything here is arranged to fit its "singing." His own tone is unmistakable, as is Leisz's and Cantuaria's. The guitars are as distinct as the oud and the violin, all of them carried into the next space by hand drums. While each song does stand on its own as a harmonic and lyrical entity, with adventurous improvisation added in the spirit of true exploration, as an album they are linked by the weave of aural tapestry, dynamics, and spaciousness that is so central to Frisell's sound. And while this is more collaborative than perhaps anything he's done in a decade, it nonetheless bears his sonic and esthetic imprint. This is a remarkable album; its sets a new watermark for Frisell's sense of adventure and taste, and displays his perception of beauty in a pronounced, uncompromising, yet wholly accessible way.

— Thom Jurek