Barry Altschul's 3dom Factor • Long Tall Sunshine
 t's gratifying to see
the late-career lionization of great drummers once lumped into the catch-all category
"avant-garde," like Andrew Cyrille and (the recently departed) Milford Graves.
Save some huzzahs for Barry Altschul, now 78, who made his rep in the 1960s and ’70s
backing pianists Paul Bley and Chick Corea and multi-reedists Anthony Braxton and Sam
Rivers, often in tandem with bassist Dave Holland. Altschul’s attention to space and
texture sometimes got him pegged as a percussionist. But as his stomping trio 3dom Factor
makes clear, Altschul is very much a drummer, who brings to the music strength, lift and
formal clarity, framing a tune’s form on the kit, as the greats do. Longtime bass
partner Joe Fonda and trickster saxophonist Jon Irabagon egg him on.
In truth, this recording was never intended to be an album. The band had collected soundboard recordings during their tours and isolated gigs, and this one stood out -- never mind they’d already recorded four of its five Altschul tunes, some more than once, starting on their 2012 debut The 3dom Factor. Some date back to the 1970s and ’80s: personal bests. The recording may come from a 2018 East European tour, but they’re not really sure. The 45-minute running time and apparent size of the audience and a mildly resonant hall suggest a festival set. Our anonymous engineer takes care of business. The amped-up bass is prominent in the mix, putting the accent on the rhythm section (and letting bass hold its own in heavy company). Drums don’t sound too close-miked -- jazz drummers cringe when rock engineers try to mike the bass drum -- but you can hear every inch of the kit (and Altschul's command of dynamics and drum tone). Altschul and Fonda had an earlier trio, FAB, with another colorful front man, violinist Billy Bang. After sharing bandstands for over 15 years, and knowing this band’s (small) repertoire so well, the drummer and bassist often phrase as one. Altschul’s compositions are designed to get everybody moving. On “Long Tall Sunshine,” every little section has a slightly different rhythmic accent -- chunky 4/4, Latin, exuberant swing -- which is replicated during the improvised rounds. Bassist and drummer are always alert to/on top of each other’s accentual shifts in the improvised duos. (Altschul gets a couple of booming, shapely standalone solos too.) The miking/mixing creates a little sonic distance between us and Irabagon’s tenor -- as if leery of getting too close, given his penchant for jovial unpredictability. (There’s a moment on “The 3dom Factor” where a long, low tenor honk creates momentary feedback. It is barely detectable before the engineer pulls back and corrects it, very quickly.) Irabagon is a steamer who’ll set up dialogues between two tenor voices: ventriloquist-and-hand-puppet call-and-response. When a pattern begins to emerge as he improvises, he may deflect himself. He does bear down on the microphone for some keypad percussion on “Be Out S’Cool”’s long solo cadenza, where you can hear his sound bounce around the room -- he plays the space. To throw fresh shade on the material, Irabagon brings a
couple of axes new to the band. On Altschul’s slow “Irina,” Irabagon plays
alto clarinet, at first bittersweet, very like Ornette Coleman’s alto
saxophone on the classic “Lonely Woman.” Then he explores its lower,
bass-clarinet-ish range. On the giant-stepping “Be Out S’Cool,” he picks up
the tiny soprillo sax -- an octave higher than soprano, a fourth higher than sopranino --
and plays absurdly high quick lines, with fast vibrato, as if he’s been speeded up:
rapid chatter à la the TV Addams Family’s Cousin Itt. Or Steve Lacy on
helium. There’s plenty of action, and some hectic, akilter riffing (as on
“Martin’s Stew,” for drummer Stu Martin), and when the band brings the
temperature down, no knuckleheads out front yell to kill the mood. |
