SEAN
JONES
Gemini
Mack
Avenue
It’s quite ironic that Sean Jones was
apparently turned on to jazz trumpet by hearing Miles Davis,
yet among young, accomplished trumpet players around today,
he is perhaps the least Davis-esque sounding. Instead, one
hears the influence of Clifford Brown, Lee Morgan, and Freddie
Hubbard. Jones has a bright tone and killer technique developed
through classical training and an ear for jazz that takes
in everything from bebop to the hip-hop/jazz hybrids of
musicians like Russell Gunn.
On his last CD, Eternal Journey,
Jones stayed pretty straight ahead, but on Gemini
he visits some of the more hybrid modern territory that
any jazz musician of his tender years must come to terms
with. That he does so admirably, with taste and restraint,
should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with his previous
work. If I had any complaints about Gemini, they
would be that the album is very programmatically divided,
with the more traditional, acoustic numbers on the first
half, and the more electric, modern numbers on the second
half. I realize that the concept here is that there are
two sides to the coin (Gemini being the sign of the zodiac
represented by twins)., but it still might have been preferable
to mix the styles up. Although the group plays really well
over a broad range of styles, the breakneck pace of diversity
on this CD may make it difficult for some listeners to enjoy
it as a whole. But that’s the inevitable way of things
as jazz settles into its second century. Artists who are
conversant with and fluid in the various dialects represented
by categories such as bebop, modal, post-bop, fusion, hip-hop,
jazz, etc. are less likely to settle into a prolonged period
of playing one style only. In addition, the introduction
of devices such as the iPod makes this type of album inevitable
as well. Since anyone listening on one of these devices
would likely not listen to the entire album in sequence,
it is less important to maintain a particular mood over
the course of the entire CD or even a significant portion
of it.
Jones opens with the furious “Gemini
(Phase I)” and then settles into the swinging post-bop
groove of “In Her Honor” with pianist Mulgrew
Miller, bassist Kenny Davis, and drummer E.J. Strickland
(replaced by Corey Rawls on tracks 7-12) pushing him along
and, at times, riding his wave. “Rain of Patience”
is a beautiful ballad composed by saxophonist Tia Fuller,
who plays flute on the track. That’s followed up by
the hard bop sound of “Blues for Matt B,” which
is just what it says—a straight ahead blues that allows
for plenty of hot blowing all around. Like Miles, Jones
knows that you can’t have a proper jam without breaking
out the blues.
“BJ’s Tune” is an example
of Jones’ quickly developing compositional style as
well as his gorgeous melodic playing and tonal control.
Miller provides the pianistic underpinnings that allow Jones
to fully soar, supported but not inhibited. Miller’s
own solo is an impressionistic flight of fancy that enhances
the mood laid down by Jones. “Mission Statement”
features Jones’ talented labelmate, Ron Blake on tenor
sax. It’s a performance that recalls some of Freddie
Hubbard’s quintet recordings and doesn’t suffer
by the comparison. His solo on this number really demonstrates
his ability to consolidate his influences into a personal
style and vision. Blake also solos well, weaving a modern
tenor sound that embraces the influence of Coltrane, but
is not subsumed by it. It also becomes apparent just how
influential Sonny Rollins has continued to be to a new generation
of saxophonists searching for signposts on the road to self-discovery.
“Gemini (Phase II)” introduces
keyboardist Orrin Evans and drummer Corey Rawls, and introduces
the album’s second half as well. This would be the
fusionary, electric, hip-hop, jazztronica portion of the
proceedings. The great thing is that the level of musicianship
is just as high when Jones and his sidemen are exploring
these styles as when they are playing straight ahead. That
demonstrates respect for both the material and the audience,
and Jones is to be commended for that.
The great thing is that Jones’ affinity
for these styles of the music seem very natural. He’s
equally at home with the modal “Into the Sun”
as he is with the R&B balladry of “Chillin’
at da Grill.” He’s no less comfortable with
the funk/hip-hop of “T.V. Land” or the jam band
groove of “Momma’s Groove.” The final,
chilled out version of “Gemini” is the icing
on the cake, with a brief, acoustic version of the gospel-inspired
“Gemini (Phase III).” It’s a great end
to an album that feels like a classic already. Jones has
indulged his wish to stretch out and expand the ground he
occupied Eternal Journey without overreaching,
and the result is a successful second album as a leader
that situates him perfectly as one of the important voices
to be heard in modern jazz.
