John Fedchock Quartet's Reminiscence

If I asked you to imagine the sound of a trombone, especially in the context of the leading instrument in a jazz quartet, what would it be? I'd probably think of your traditional trombone sound, something out of New Orleans perhaps, slightly jovial and definitely outgoing. There's a looseness about the timbre of a trombone, possibly due to the sonic effects of the slide. That's the stereotypical sound of a trombone. I've heard a number of trombonists in the world of both jazz and classical, and there's more than one way to play the instrument. With John Fedchock, however, I feel as if I've heard a new sort of trombone, a more reticent and thoughtful instrument, one that can project an amazing range of emotion.

Fedchock's new live CD, Reminiscence, is a bit of a revelation. His horn has a distinctly different tone than most, a cautious, vulnerable and introspective sound that pulls you in toward the bell. Captured in 2015 at a Virginia Beach nightclub called Havana Nights, one that no longer exists, Reminiscence was culled from the same set of recordings that made up his last album, Fluidity. (I've also recently heard him as part of Ayn Inserto's Down the Rabbit Hole.) Havana Nights was known for its great acoustics, and I can see why Fedchock went back to the well. He probably knew he'd never play there again, and he'd never be able to get that exact same sound again.

It is a special sound, and a great recording. The rest of his quartet--pianist John Toomey, bassist Jimmy masters and drummer Dave Ratajczak--are in rare form, as they say. While the stellar space allows you to reach deeply and hear what's so unique about Fedchock's style, you might be equally drawn to the other three. The rhythm section is just as steady and cautious as Fedchock, but they are incredibly tight and focused. That allows Toomey to add a bit of splash to the performances; perhaps his easy and lyrical manner would come in conflict with another horn player, one more dedicated to sounding like most other horn players.

To put it succinctly, this is a horn-led quartet that's much softer and more fluid than you would expect. Reminiscence is faithful to its theme, about being lost in thought while mentally flipping through a stack of your finest memories. It's about a special place that no longer exists, and Fedchock's trombone is the perfect means for bringing those memories to life.

Ayn Inserto Jazz Orchestra's Down a Rabbit Hole

Of all the big band jazz recordings I've reviewed over the last year, this might be the first orchestra led by a woman. I'm presenting this as objectively as possible, but shouldn't women bandleaders be more of a thing? There are plenty of female jazz musicians and certainly singers, not to mention composers. I'm a bit surprised by this. Other than Carla Bley and Maria Schneider, I can't think of another.

With Down a Rabbit Hole, we have a leader in Ayn Inserto, a composer, arranger and educator who was born in Singapore but was raised in Bay Area and now is a fundamental part of the Boston jazz scene. As her biography reveals, she started taking piano lessons as a child and "learned to read chords from a book of Disney tunes and soon started substituting her own chord choices to make the songs sound more interesting." That certain sounds like the birth of an exciting new talent, and soon she was studying jazz piano while playing the organ for her church choir, a venue where she was able to learn how to improvise, strangely enough. Her history sounds like a primer for independent musical thinking, and that shows up in her arrangements. She has a distinctly melodic approach to big band jazz, and her signature is bright and colorful.

"The trick about falling down rabbit holes is knowing how to get back out," the liner notes explain, and Inserto's gift is cleverness--especially the way her compositions constantly shift in unexpected ways. With the help of gifted soloists Sean Jones (trumpet), John Fedchock (trombone) and George Garzone (tenor sax), her music is always playful and positive without pandering to the audience or depriving the content of emotional depth. There is a happiness throughout these seven songs--mostly originals except for a stunningly original take on Berry Gordy's "I'll Be There"--and Inserto's approach is always one of enthusiasm and gusto. As I've said before, big band jazz is supposed to be somewhat flashy and dynamic with only occasional sojourns into ballads and sad songs, but her orchestra is downright vivacious.

I'm also impressed with the sound quality on this recording, which was captured on the Shames Family Scoring Stage at Berklee in Boston. Take the opening moments of the first track, "Three and Me," and the way drummer Austim McMahon's ride cymbal sounds so intimate and pure--as in a trio recording. There's a sensitivity to scale here, which goes hand in hand with Inserto's keen sense of dynamic control, and that helps to spread out that big band sound so the individual components aren't buried in a wall of sound. While much of this is in the realm of recording engineer and mixer Mark Wessel and mastering engineer Rich Breen, it's Inserto herself who has produced this album as well, along with co-producers Fedchock and Jeff Claassen. This places Inserto in the "force of nature" category, where she has mastered a vision of big band jazz that is exciting and original and worth seeking out.