JuJu - 'A Message From Mozambique' (Black Fire)

And that message is, loud and clear, 'we are teeming with life and energy'. Except JuJu aren't from Mozambique, they're from Richmond, VA and some form of this band still exists today, still based around saxophonist Plunky Nkabinde. 1972 was a great era for merging free jazz and African nationalism, or perhaps I should say continentalism; the iconography is made clearly visible on the cover and clearly audible throughout the heavily percussive LP of searing jazzjams under review here. If one didn't know better, this photo could pass as the bizarro Art Ensemble of Chicago (from around this same era), but the music is much more built around flow than space, showing that facepaint alone does not indicate sound. Compositionally, A Message From Mozambique is spread across the whole band, and the six cuts here have distinct personalities. Nkabinde's '(Struggle) Home' opens up with 16 minutes of rapid, toe-tapping melodic jamming, creating the sound that I remember the most about this record. It's driving, with two percussionists and fast, thunderous piano runs from Al-Hammel Rasul and much soloing from Nkabinde; free, yes, but the dissonance fits within a widely defined space and the overall motion is harmonic and energy-producing. Rasul's beautiful 'Soledad Brothers' would seem to pull things down a notch, except this open piano framework allows vibes and smaller percussive elements to run amuck between the chords. It's rising and falling cadences are beautiful and propelling, wrapping up the nervous energy into the centre of the soundstage and harnessing the group power in a quieter, more focused form. It's my favourite cut on the record and a tragedy that it's only five minutes long. A more 'traditional' group jam comes with the wonderfully titled 'Make Your Own Revolution Now', which feels most at home against the ESP/skronk scene of the preceding few years. The drums and piano tend to dominate here, but when Nkabinde and flautist Lon Moshe come in, they make their presence felt through fast, dynamic exaltations. The remainder of side two pulls away from western jazz entirely, being drum/percussion workouts that are sometimes deceptively minimal-seeming ('Freedom Fighter') or more explicitly exploring the influences of indigenous music (the traditional 'Nairobi/Chants' which does involve some spirited vocalisations). JuJu's success is in synthesising these genres in such a palatable way - certainly we've heard it before in ways more impressionistic (the aforementioned Art Ensemble, or the work of Don Garrett) or more futurist (later Ornette Coleman), but this is an Afro-jazz record that is remarkably fun and I daresay even 'accessible', at least for a free jazz entry. That JuJu and Nkabinde never became household names, nor even enshrined in the same canon as other figures from this time (Archie Shepp, Frank Wright, etc.) may be due to this balance being slightly more 'fun' that one would expect; yet both the playing and compositional sense are as strong as anything else from the era.

Jackie-O Motherfucker - 'The Magick Fire Music' (Ecstatic Peace!)

Once one cuts through the duct tape, one can start working through The Magick Fire Music. Four sides is a lotta Jackie-O, and they use this larger canvas to take their time, spreading out, at least compared to their Road Cone releases from around this time (2000-2001), Fig. 5 and Liberation, which I'm somehow more familiar with despite never owning. Jackie-O Motherfucker are actually a lot more Apollonian their the name and reputation may suggest, as these lengthy pieces (about two per side) mostly improvise around groove-based indie rock instrumentation – a jam band! It's hardly Medeski Martin & Wood, but the foundations are easy to feel, and even when they bring in squealing saxophones, keyboards/synths and tape loops, it's only dressing on the surface of a harmonious path. Mostly, this is music of meandering, and it strikes a nice Morricone-esque vibe sometimes ('The Cage', 'Quaker') which never threatens to really challenge the omphalos. Yes, The Magick Fire Music takes awhile to get anywhere, and maybe once it does, if it does, you aren't sure if you're back where you started. For a band that's been just "Tom Greenwood + collaborators" for a long time, it's interesting to listen back here to when they were somewhat more collectively a group, or at least that's my impression. There's no personnel listed so it's hard to know who's actually on this recording - hell, it could just all be Greenwood solo - but it feels like more, albeit surely live studio jams, offered with some restraint and a surprising amount of polish. Maybe "meander as philosophy" is a lot more difficult than it sounds; the I-IV-V chord progressions reached here feel a bit too easy, in which case we should turn to mood/texture/atmosphere for our pleasure. Departures from this deliver the most joy: '2nd Ave 2 M' is a twisting maelstrom that veers into space-jazz territory; 'Lost Stone' goes for tremolo-driven sky paintings and eschews rock instrumentation the most, and is a beautiful moment. It all comes to a summation on 'Black Squirrels', the jam with the most energy, the most psychedelic use of layered sound, and the presence of a banjo to tie the band to the 'Americana' influence they expressed more strongly on other releases. I had no idea that these guys are still together (in some form) and have been putting out a steady stream of records ever since this; I'm not sure how this stacks up against their whole oeuvre but someone out there's gotta be a completist.

Don Cherry - 'Where is Brooklyn?' (Blue Note)

Into stereo we march; Gato's out, and Pharoah's in. Things starts off with 'Awake Nu', an unstoppably fluid juggernaut, with Grimes hitting soft tonalities over Blackwell's nervous pulse. Pharoah's really shining here cause Cherry actually holds back a lot, like he's introducing his band. The sax tones are somewhat thin, yet heavy, like they are being set in plasticene. Cherry's own bleats are much more playful compared to what he did with Gato. But that record was called Complete Communion so obviously it was about harmony. Here, a question mark in the title sets an interrogative nature, and occasionally some probing questions do come out, like at the end of 'Awake Nu'. This leads into 'Taste Maker', where we get a more ferocious cornucopia of brass, occasionally erupting. Henry Grimes takes a great bass solo, appearing like a rabid woodchuck shrouded in mist. He solos again, on 'The Thing', which closes out side 1 with a jaunty, Cherry-driven exploration that shrouded in darkness yet upbeat. The melodies aren't obvious and there's no hummable hooks, but there's a continual ebb and flow of musical ideas. When Cherry goes textural, Pharoah turns on the sweet stuff; the rhythm section is continually adjusting. One thing I didn't realise about Where is Brooklyn? until halfway through side 2 is the amount of space here. There's very few points where everyone is "all in", instead with many duo and trio moments to establish a pace and preserve continuity. Side 2 ends in an 18 minute jam called 'Unite' which is the most flowing and open piece yet in the Cherry solo repertoire, no surprise since the duration allows more exploration and space. It never stops pulsing, but also avoids severe dissonance. In short, it swings, despite variously oppositional tactics and a constantly elusive tonal centre. I love when Grimes gets simple with it -- there are brief segments where he just taps one note, letting things settle down, only to have them flare up again, bathed in cornet and sax. Overall, Where is Brooklyn? is exploratory, yet genteel; it's cover drawing is marvellously appropriate.

Art Ensemble of Chicago - 'Les Stances a Sophie' (Nessa)

This seems to be one of the more popular Art Ensemble of Chicago records, though I doubt that anyone has seen the film of which it's the soundtrack to. There's a good reason for this enduring popularity of this record - it fucking slays, and opens with 'Theme de Yoyo', a rolling fun jam with Fontella Bass's playful lyrics. It's certainly odd hearing these guys laying down a straight pop song - even straighter than the Brigitte Fontaine material - but it's full of soul and energy, and it's bouncyness seems to suit the band well. This is the first time we get Don Moye in the band, though he hasn't really hit his stride -- he is simply the drummer here, not yet ready to put on the facepaint himself. But really, this is the least facepainty AE of C record out there. The slow, neoclassical steps taken in the middle of this record have a cool, modal detachment that suggests they were watching a lot of Nouvelle Vague films during their stay; not having seen 'Les Stances a Sophie', I can't be sure, but I imagine these slow, spaced reeds paint a perfect backdrop to whatever the film is about. We get variations on a theme by Claudio Monteverdi split across the middle of the album and maybe that's the true highlight of this record for me. Over all these albums I've heard the Ensemble play raucous, genteel, loose and tight, but these Monteverdi cadences are a beuteous ramification of Western tradition streaming through the masks. Fontella Bass comes back at the end and this time they rev up the engine, letting her rip too. It resembles those early Gunter Hampel sides at times though with something, I dunno, blacker, about it all. If Putney sed the Borman 6 girl's a-gotta have soul you'll find it here, but with a stack of Ishmael Reed novels too.

Antennas Erupt! - 'Magical Energy' (S-S)

Antennas Erupt! - I guess the exclamation mark is part of it - are some young guys from a jazz background, with a California vibe.  Though the horns lean on melody they display a strong predilection for getting 'free with it; still, this record is a million miles from some neo-freejazz ESP-worshipping skronk fest.  Instead they bring in some grooving rock structures, and melodies that suggest the finer folk-dance flavors of Black Saint and Sinner Lady, Liberation Music Orchestra, and Carla Bley's work (all of which will be visited in future installments of DUSAET).  It's the good side of fusion, though this bears no relation to stuff like Tony Wiliams Lifetime or Bitches Brew.  Antennas Erupt! are into the good life - fun and energetic, driving on the freeway with the top down, eating at reasonably priced ethnic restaurants - but with a purpose.  Serious, but not too serious.  Fun but not too frivolous.  They're willing to sing a bit, and compose some great aggro-classical counterpoint, but open up the throttle a few times too.    I've seen them live and can vouch that they are a brilliant live experience; despite the relative 'accessibility' of their sound I think they might exist outside of any 'scene', and thus recognition may continue to 'elude' them.   Versatility is the name of their game and I have no doubts they could shift between a totally direct message and the wildest explorations of the outer soundosphere.  Plus, you gotta love a band with a song called "Healthy Vaginal Walls" that doesn't sound like the Mentors.  S-S has done a lovely edition here in white vinyl with a cool blue and white screened foldout cover; I'm not sure if there's any still available but it's definitely worth tracking this down!