In keeping with his mastery of that rare instrument that is the slide trumpet, Steven Bernstein has nurtured an unconventional but nonetheless impressive reputation for himself over the years. Collaborations include his membership in Levon Helm’s Midnight Ramble band as well as studio and stage appearances on Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey’s Race Riot Suite.
Coexisting with those partnerships, he has also led groundbreaking bands including the Millennial Territory Orchestra as well as the Sexmob, the seamless nature of whose tenth album would seem to belie its title. Available on vinyl in a set including an LP plus a 45 rpm 12,” The Hard Way finds the four-man Mob, with the leader as an artistic liaison, in close alliance with engineer Scotty Hard, who recorded, mixed, and produced (besides playing on the album).Â
On the first and longest selection here, “Fletcher Henderson,” loping rhythms interweave with amorphous melodic motifs throughout the musicianship and ultimately become fully integrated. It’s all of a piece on “King Tang” too, the participants conjuring up no little heat through their intricate interplay.
The effect is hardly less so where guests appear: John Medeski brings his earthy and adventuresome keyboard persona to “Banacek,” the spacy groove he inhabits hearkening to the vintage likes of MMW circa Shackman, here with the added bonus of Bernstein’s instrument and Briggan Krauss’ saxophone. Vijay Iyer works a similar magic when he shows up during “You Can Take A Myth.” Reminiscent of his 2016 abstractions with venerable trumpeter/composer Wadada Leo Smith, the cerebral detail the pianist generates with his ivories unfolds in tantalizing languor.
Compacting so much nuanced action in a relatively short interval–this cut is slightly longer than four minutes–is the mark of discerning recording artists. As is also the case with “Lawn Mower,” one subterranean groove from start to finish, the main source of which is the elasticity of the rhythm section; bassist Tony Scherr and drummer Kenny Wollesen dominate, but the interpolation of soundscapes and electronic beats is indispensable to the mesmerizing effect.
The Hard Way is at once an exercise in humility on the part of the Sexmob and homage to its likeminded sonic savant. If a cut like “Hit The Dirt” sounds a bit too much like the new directions of music of the late Miles Davis circa Bitches Brew, it’s well to absorb that reference point in the same spirit as the dream-like “Tapestral,” that is, a natural evolution of those prior groundbreaking efforts, wrought in contemporary terms.
Like the slow but sure unraveling of textures in “Dominion,” one of two cuts on the additional disc, that track is of a piece with the main eight. Hardly the mere recycling of a novel idea, it’s more accurate to describe it, like The Hard Way in general, as an extension of the inventive tradition that has always defined modern jazz.
