#mick goodrick

[jt1674]

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[kosmik-signals]

Interesting collection of musicians. Mick Goodrick - originally the senior guitarist in the Gary Burton Quintet (the 2nd guitarist being Pat Metheny). A  built in recording trio of Geri Allen - Charlie Haden - Paul Motian.

[theimmaculatearchive]

[musicollage]

Mick Goodrick – In Pas(s)ing. 1979 :  ECM 1139.

[merzbow-derek]

POST-POST-SCRIPTUM 1068

26 - QUE POURRAIT BIEN RACONTER CE PROJET ?

Et s’il s’agissait d’un livre abordant les rapports entre jazz et rock (et vice-versa) d’une manière enfin inédite ?

[jt1674]

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[jt1674]

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[musicollage]

The Gary Burton Quintet with Eberhard Weber. Ring, 1974. ECM 1051. ( Mick Goodrick, Pat Metheny, Steve Swallow, Bob Moses )  ~ [ Album Review | ECM Reviews ] Gary Burton is in a class all his own. On the vibraharp he is pliant yet unbreakable with a certain flair for the understatedly powerful. Among the present company, he is perfectly at ease. No one tries to overpower him, and despite his melodic dominance he never looms for too long, receding into as many shadows as he casts. There’s not a single pretentious note to be heard; the flow between and within tracks barters its way across smooth waters. This is a nocturnal album all the way.

In the opening “Mevlevia,” flanged guitar provides a yielding current of sound upon which Burton and Weber are able to lie back and drift. “Unfinished Sympathy” is more than just a clever play on words, but is also a gorgeous vehicle for Goodrick’s rolling solos. Its structure is built around a recurring guitar motif, which indeed feels unfinished as it circles around a flower it can never pollinate. It is a short and sweet diversion into a vaguely grasped thought. “Tunnel Of Love” is a languid journey toward something that is apprently fated but which is actually uncertain. A warm bass solo arises from the murky surface that surrounds us, threading our path with its own braided thread. A lilting guitar in the background plucks steady notes from the air, balancing them atop slowly rolling spheres. “Intrude” begins with a drum solo that flitters like a dragonfly skirting the edge of its known domain. A certain jouissance works its way from the outside in before petering out into the last few drops of cymbal, at which point the ensemble kicks in with a six-stringed groove tugged along by bass and the now recumbent drums. The delicacy from before is implicitly maintained, even as the static builds in charge, at last defused by a premature spark. “Silent Spring” feels like the most composed piece in this set, and in that sense it refuses to take its own simple pleasures for granted. The bass flickers its way into recognition like a blown-out candle in reverse, telling what it knows to be untrue, a musical fabrication in disguise. “The Colors of Chloë” produces another superb bass solo in the midst of a first-rate groove, which seems to climb up and down stairs before settling on the black and the white of its own private chessboard.

In short: listen to this album and love it.