Haino Keiji, Greg Cohen & Joey Baron: An Unclear Trial: More Than This

Improvised music is invariably meant for live consumption, where the give-and-take between musicians is laid bare for all to hear and the ephemeral nature of the playing is intrinsically linked to that one moment that's never to be repeated. In a way, recordings of improvised music negate the one arguably essential tenet of improv—namely, spontaneous composition: Even the most unusual and challenging music, once recorded, becomes permanent and obviously immutable. Though listening to records heavy on improvisation is rarely as exciting as hearing the music in a live setting, given the right combination of players, recorded improv sessions can be worth hearing multiple times, even if they're only surprising once. The phenomenal rhythm section of bassist Greg Cohen and drummer Joey Baron, combined with guitarist Haino Keiji, make what is generally one of the most impenetrable of musical forms interesting and relatively accessible. Like all great improv groups, Keiji, Cohen & Baron exhibit an eerie telepathy. The mostly acoustic and generally mellow recording—surprising for the leader of the noisy Fushitsusha—is pretty intimate, so any missteps would have really stood out. Consequently, the trio is all the more impressive for making it work. Of course, free music isn't always so casual: German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann has been playing free music for decades, yet he only recently discovered an enclave of like-minded musicians in Chicago. His new, massive triple-disc collection of studio recordings and their live counterparts, all recorded during a few days spread throughout 1997, features a real who's-who of modern jazz, all of whom are based in or play regularly around Chicago: Ken Vandermark, Mars Williams, Hamid Drake, Kent Kessler, Michael Zerang, Jeb Bishop, Fred Lonberg-Holm, Joe McPhee, Mats Gustafsson. For anyone interested in the state of free jazz and out composition, The Chicago Octet/Tentet works well as one-stop shopping. Working in groups of both eight and ten players, Brötzmann and his companions make an impressive racket that is often as beautiful as it is boisterous. These recordings certainly illustrate how some of the power of 10 individuals can be lost on disc: There's something to be said for the imposing Brötzmann blowing with all his might mere feet from your face and ears. But even though the sight of these powerhouses squeezed onto one stage, playing their hearts and lungs out, is missed, that doesn't mean that some tracks sound any less impressive than an oncoming locomotive. With a creative rhythm section anchoring and coloring the compositions, these brass- and woodwind-heavy outfits are simply amazing and, in some cases, nearly essential for fans of modern jazz.