New Music from Business of Dreams and Carter, Wilner, Toure & Ughi
Daniel Carter, Tobias Wilner, Djibril Toure, Federico Ughi
New York United
(577 Records)
The double-edged sword of modern music is that if something sounds fresh, there’s the risk of it becoming an over-used trope, and in ten years, it might sound severely dated and forever locked into a specific time period.
While New York United is an unconventional free jazz album, where classification almost seems misleading, it’s a studio creation that depends heavily on careful editing and electronic processing; fortunately, it doesn’t feel like a gimmick or some half-assed genre mash-up.
Free-playing reedist and trumpeter Daniel Carter has been a creative force since the ‘70s and has frequently played with the likes of bassist William Parker and pianist Matthew Shipp.
On New York United, Carter and one of his closest collaborators—drummer Federico Ughi—team up with bassist Djibril Toure (who plays for GZA and Wu-Tang Clan) and Tobias Wilner of Blue Foundation on electronics and studio wizardry.
Stuttering synthetic tones and gentle clicks open “Canal Street” as Carter’s flute improvisations join in, and eventually, Ughi’s drums and Toure’s bass enter as a thick and imposing presence with an unhurried funk-inflected pace. Carter switches to a muted trumpet amid a stew of brief vocal samples, glistening synthetics, and rustling beats.
On “125th Street”, the electronic repetition, synth menace, sharp blasts of noise and somewhat foreboding mood have a hint of industrial music, enhanced by Ughi’s propelling beats, and Carter’s trumpet floats over the chaos below.
The track transforms radically, ending with an unusual amalgam of ambient music, glitchy hip-hop rhythms, and marimba notes; Jon Hassell’s City: Works of Fiction and Tortoise’s TNT come to mind as points of comparison.
The interplay at work on “Nostrand Ave” is complicated, with amorphous, sustained tones, repeating synthetics that press forward and Carter’s breathy, wandering reeds; with a ramping tension and intensity, there’s a release halfway through the track, giving way to a sort of floating elegance among the kinetic energy, elevated by Carter’s natural fluidity on sax and freely rolling interactions with Ughi.
The album concludes with the three-minute “Flatbush Ave”, sporting a dance beat and Carter’s smoky, cool tone and lithe runs.
When considering Wilner’s role, one can’t help but bring up producer Teo Macero and his ground-breaking work with Miles Davis, particularly his late ‘60s and early ‘70s fusion, where Macero’s editing was a vital part of shaping Davis’ albums.
If the Macero/Davis trajectory had continued in a steep upward direction, then it could’ve ended up on the asteroid where Wilner operates, exploding the notion of fusion jazz into something even more expansive.
Business of Dreams
Ripe for Anarchy
(Slumberland)
Sandra Cisneros’ “One Last Poem For Richard” reflects upon an amicable Christmas Eve break-up, recalling good times and bad times and concluding, “I’m willing to admit a part of me, crazed and kamikaze, ripe for anarchy, loves still.”
The second album Ripe for Anarchy from Business of Dreams—the solo project of Corey Cunningham, of Magic Bullets, Terry Malts, and Smokescreens—takes its title from Cisneros’ poem, which offers an almost paradoxical attitude; while moving on and having acceptance about a break-up are healthy, there’s a sort of wild abandon that’s a part of facing the uncertain future, open to love and not being defeated.
Business of Dreams was created by Cunningham when coping with the death of his father, and if there’s a unifying theme, it’s to “focus on the moment, be free” as sung on “Chasing That Feeling”, which opens Ripe for Anarchy.
Cunningham is comfortable with conveying earnest sentiments in his lyrics, singing in his high, clean voice, and acts such as The Field Mice come to mind in this regard, where feelings are made crystal clear.
Musically, Cunningham owes many debts to indie-pop forebears; this writer speculates that he is familiar with The Field Mice and other Sarah Records acts, New Zealand pop acts (in particular, David Kilgour’s solo material comes to mind) and American west-coast ‘90s pop bands.
A typical song on Ripe for Anarchy features a strummed, three-chord pop progression, drum machine beats, synth flourishes, and a heavy use of reverb. A particular retro obsession with late ‘80s production styles, including the conspicuous synth tones on “Naive Scene”, reveals itself, and an unabashedly bright keyboard melody drives “N.R.E.A.M.” (which stands for “negativity rules everything around me”) with equally unabashed tambourine hits.
“Don’t Let Our Time Expire” is a beat-free diversion, moving in its simplicity with a ringing acoustic guitar pattern and a somewhat disquieting high-pitched keyboard tone in the background.
While this is not ground-breaking material, it’s well-crafted stuff and hard to dislike for pop lovers.