by Bill Meyer

One of Ken Vandermark's recent albums is called "Blow Horn" and boy he's

good at it, but that's not all that the strapping, flat-topped

multi-reedist does. He's a key catalyst of Chicago's recent florescence

which has made it the greatest place in the world to play and hear jazz.

Since January, 1996 he and writer John Corbett have booked the Empty

Bottle's Jazz and Improvised Music concert series, which has made this town

a must-stop place for the young turks, undersung heroes and grizzled

veterans of spontaneous music making. He's always up for an ad hoc

encounter with both out of towners (Joelle Leandre, Peter Brotzmann, Mats

Gustafsson, Joe Morris, Charles Waters, Ben Goldberg, Joe McPhee, Georg

Grawe) and Chicago's best players, many of whom end up in his own bands

(currently I count seven, but like his music that's subject to instant

change).

Ken was born on September 22, 1964 in Rhode Island, and raised by the

indefatigable jazz enthusiast Stu Vandermark. "I'm the only person my age

that I've met who got into jazz by listening to jazz," he recalls. "Most

people come to it through rock, then branch out when they want to hear

something new, but I grew up in a family that listened to almost no rock.

The closest we came was Chuck Berry and Sly And The Family Stone." Instead

Ken was immersed in Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, and a lot of classical

music. Stu also took him to see nearly every jazz band that came to Boston,

from swing and bebop up to the Art Ensemble Of Chicago. In late adolescence

Ken experienced an epiphany; his dad played him Joe McPhee's "Tenor" album

and suddenly the avant-garde clicked. Throughout college and film school

Ken honed his craft, first on tenor sax, later adding bass clarinet and

most recently clarinet. He moved to Chicago in 1989, when the town's

improvised music scene was at its lowest ebb. But in 1992 the Vandermark

Quartet, got a weekly date at the Hothouse nightclub, and things started to

turn around. Ever since he's made a point to keep at least one band working

publicly several times a month, the better to keep both playing and group

interaction at a high level.

Vandermark's sound embraces honking r&b, lyrically swinging pre- and

post-bop, and the raw passion of free jazz pioneers like Brotzmann, Albert

Ayler and Archie Shepp, as well as the restless technical/emotional

expansion of McPhee, Eric Dolphy, John Gilmore, and Evan Parker. He's as

assured playing complex charts as he is freely improvising, as comfortable

laying down a good groove as he is blowing paint-peeling snorts, and he's

developing into an exquisite balladeer as well. As with any jazz man, Ken

is best experienced in concert, especially in one of the many ensembles he

shares with his staunchest comrade Kent Kessler (double bass). But he's

also diligently documented his own development on over twenty albums to

date. This survey is incomplete; besides the records reviewed here, which

I've subdivided into four categories, are two albums by the now-defunct

Vandermark Quartet, which wedded free jazz to metal-shredding guitar rock;

his sojourns with rock bands the Waste Kings, the Flying Luttenbachers and

DK3; and CDs by the Barrage Double Trio, Caffeine, and the Steel Wool Trio.

For those of you who still own turntables, the Quartet and the Crown Royals

have also issued worthy singles.

KEN AND MARS

NRG ENSEMBLE, "This Is My House" (Delmark, 1996)

NRG ENSEMBLE, "Bejazzo Gets A Facelift" (Atavistic, 1998)

CINGHIALE, "Hoofbeats Of The Snorting Swine" (Eighth Day Music, 1996)

THE VANDERMARK 5, "Single Piece Flow" (Atavistic, 1997)

THE VANDERMARK 5, "Target Or Flag" (Atavistic, 1998)

Like Vandermark, Mars Williams commands a multitude of reed instruments and

plays in a heap of bands. During the 80s he played with the Waitresses and

the Psychedelic Furs on the one hand, and Hal Russell's NRG Ensemble on the

other. Pop music still pays his rent; he currently directs Dennis Rodman's

favorite acid jazz ensemble, Liquid Soul. Since Russell's death in 1992

Williams has helmed the NRG Ensemble, and for five years and three albums

Vandermark joined him in that wooly, flat-out ensemble. The two men share a

common versatility, being equally comfortable negotiating rock, r&b, and

post-chord changes jazz. In NRG their blowtorch blowing and sucker-punching

ensemble charts are propelled by the basses, drums, guitar, and trumpet of

Kent Kessler, Brian Sandstrom, and Steve Hunt. Of the two albums I've

heard, the Delmark one is devoted to lengthy, sometimes bombastic tunes

that are as exhausting as they are exhilarating. Ironically, my favorite

performances are the exceptions; Williams's "Whirlwind" sustains a

gorgeously textured sound world, and Hunt's "In The Middle Of Pennsylvania"

starts out as an otherworldly blend of babbling reeds, non-trap percussion,

and guest Don Meckley's short wave radio before morphing into a

blood-spattered bullfight vamp. The Atavistic CD allows a bit more variety

into the dynamic spectrum, and it includes several brief free interludes

unlike anything else the group has recorded. Ken and Mars's partnership in

NRG worked so well that they formed a separate duo, Cinghiale, devoted to

their common interest in pushing the boundaries of reed-based music. Their

CD is knotty but rewarding, especially a dynamite tribute to Sun Ra's

saxophone disciples Marshall Allen and John Gilmore called "Front Line."

When the Vandermark Quartet disbanded Ken tapped Mars to join him in the

Vandermark 5. This band, which gigs every Tuesday at the Empty Bottle, is

an outlet for Ken's writing and arranging skills, and it's the place where

he integrates all of his interests. The horn section, fattened by

trombonist Jeb Bishop, intersperses contrapuntal charts with breakneck

solos. On the second album Bishop's guitar playing bridges slam-bang rock

and Derek Bailey-esque abstractions (on the first he sticks to the former).

Kessler and drummer Tim Mulvenna effortlessly negotiate the changes from

free time to swing time, from James Brownian motion to threshing-machine

rock. Both albums are solid, but the second one benefits from the quintet

having had more time together to work out the nuances of their approach.

The Mars-Ken partnership seems to be dissolving, or at least eroding; this

spring Williams left the 5 because his obligations with Liquid Soul kept

him from touring and rehearsing with the band, and in July Vandermark

withdrew from NRG because he had tired of the group's stuck-on-ten dynamic.

But on my calendar is an upcoming Cinghiale date, so perhaps their's life

left in their pairing.

KEN AND MATS

FJF, "Blow Horn" (Okkadisk, 1997)

AALY TRIO + KEN VANDERMARK, "Hidden In The Stomach" (Silkheart, 1997)

AALY TRIO + KEN VANDERMARK, "Stumble" (Wobbly Rail, 1998)

Swedish saxophonist Mats Gustafsson is a phenomenally accomplished player

who has integrated the atomic language of Evan Parker with the sandpaper

roar of Peter Brotzmann. He and Ken developed a partnership in 1994 that

matches them with rhythm sections from both sides of the Atlantic, and

Mats's monstrous chops egg Ken into some of his most desperately flat-out

blowing. Steve Hunt and Kent Kessler back them in FJF (short for "Free Jazz

Four"),. The apt title of their CD tells you what you need to know about

this paint-peeling outing. The Silkheart CD is a masterpiece; it's the most

structured and overtly jazzy setting I've heart Mats put himself into, and

he and Ken use the bold edges in Peter Janson and Kjell Nordeson's playing

to bring clarity to their roaring swing. They cover Albert Ayler and

Charlie Haden, but the real treat for me is the debut of Vandermark's

loveliest ballad, the regretful "Why I Don't Go Back." "Stumble" captures

the band in action at Oak Park, IL's Unity Temple, and the band stretches a

bit more without ever sacrificing their commitment to lucid extrapolation.

DKV TRIO

DKV TRIO, Baraka (Okkadisk, 1997)

DKV TRIO, DKV Live (Okkadisk, 1997)

FRED ANDERSON / DKV TRIO, (Okkadisk, 1997)

This is my favorite of Vandermark's bands, and if I say that none of the

records measure up to their concerts you should take that more as testimony

to the levitational experience of DKV in concert than as a dissing of the

discs. The group's meat free improvisation that uses the language of

sustained rhythmic exploration. In practice this means that they can hit a

groove as transportational as Elvin Jones's on "India" and hold it

indefinitely, but they can also break it down and wail like the

Parker/Guy/Lytton trio fueled by a double whiskey burn. Drake is a diverse

percussionist who is as adept at setting up dancing meters on the trap kit

as he is at evoking ancient ceremonies on the djembe and Mesopotamian frame

drums, and he and Kessler fit like the proverbial hand and glove.

"Baraka's" title tune is a thirty-five minute long journey that takes the

listener through several distinct atmospheres, and "Figure It Out" is a

dark and mournful bass clarinet showcase. The live CD is a scarce and

sparsely packaged limited edition; its single track preserves an entire set

that takes a while to get going but turns into a joyous stomp centered on

Don Cherry's "Complete Communion." The CD with Fred Anderson, a 68 year old

tenor saxophonist and AACM veteran whose Velvet Lounge is the trio's

natural habitat. All of the tunes are Fred's, and his long, linear solos

coax from Ken his bluesiest playing. Early in '98 the trio recorded an

album with guitarist Joe Morris; if it's anything like the gig I saw it'll

put their telepathic communication at the service of a harmonically

adventurous series of ultra-involved four way communications.

AND A WHOLE LOT MORE

STEAM, "Standards" (Eighth Day Music, 1997)

THE CROWN ROYALS, "All Night Burner" (Estrus, 1997)

MCPHEE, VANDERMARK & KESSLER, "A Meeting In Chicago" (Okkadisk, 1998)

JOE MORRIS, KEN VANDERMARK, HANS POPPEL, "Like Rays: (Knitting Factory

Works, 1995)

PETER BROTZMANN, "The Chicago Octet / Tentet" (Okkadisk, 1998)

Steam was a quartet devoted to expanding the notion of what constituted a

standard. In concert at the Lunar Cabaret (a small theater space blessed

with a grand piano -- unfortunately the place no longer hosts music) they

used to mix tunes by Braxton, Ra, and Coleman with compositions by

Vandermark and pianist Jim Baker. Their album on the short-lived Eighth Day

Music label was devoted to their own pieces, and it's an intriguing

integration of traditions. "A Meeting In Chicago" was briefly issued by

Eighth Day in a hideous yellow package; the sonically identical but

gorgeously colorful Okkadisk reissue is the one to get. If you only get one

record named in this article, make it this one. McPhee is an improvisor of

the highest order who braids together silence, Ayler-esque overblowing,

pure-toned harmonizing, Bill Dixon-inspired breath-on-brass

experimentation. He plays both reeds and brass, putting the lie to the

notion that playing one will ruin your chops on the other. This is a sort

of father-and-son encounter, but like a backyard basketball game it's one

in which affection is matched with challenge. Kessler and Vandermark have

never sounded better than they do on this diverse, completely improvised

date. "Like Rays," on the other hand, is a hard disc to get to know.

Guitarist Morris, a highly original guitarist who eschews chords in favor

of complex but very cleanly executed lines, and Vandermark (who only plays

clarinets here) go way back to Ken's days in Boston. Their shared

appreciation for Cecil Taylor augured well for this date with German

pianist Poppel, but the disc sounds more like three guys being themselves

at the same time than a genuine give and take encounter. The personnel list

of Brotzmann's imposing three disc set reads like a who's who of Ken's

career; besides the grand old man there's Vandermark, Williams, Bishop,

McPhee, Kessler, Gustafsson, drake, and drummer Michael Zerang (who played

in the Vandermark Quartet). The album, which might be subtitled "Better

Living Through Reed Power," features two different takes of Vandermark's

swaggering, multi-segmented composition "Other Brothers." The smartly

suited Crown Royals are Ken's r&b band. Inspired by the JBs and the MGs,

they're a crackerjack rhythm machine that showcases the bar-walking honker

that lurks in Ken's soul. This album is an easy way for the uninitiated to

enter Ken's world.