The résumé of trumpeter Steven Bernstein reads like an all-star list of collaborations in not only the downtown NYC jazz scene, but popular music as well: Aretha Franklin.  Marianne Faithful.  Rufus Wainwright.  Yet Bernstein is perhaps best known for his work in John Lurie’s Lounge Lizards as well as his own Sex Mob, whose Sexotica (2006) garnered a Grammy nomination a couple of years ago.  His most recent release is from another project of his called the Millennial Territory Orchestra, which Bernstein regards as “the fullest expression of my musical personality.”  Sounding like a cracked Dixieland relic from the 1930s, the band tackles Lennon and McCartney’s “All You Need Is Love” with a demented fervor, Fats Waller’s “Viper Song” is turned into a burlesque strip tease with a banjo (!), and the leader himself best describes the title track as such: “Don Redman meets Funkadelic at Count Basie’s summer home by the lake.”  We Are MTO (2008) has a spontaneous, live-feel atmosphere that features plenty of Charlie Burnham’s violin smeared over the proceedings, Doug Wieselman’s swinging clarinet, and of course, Bernstein’s often hilariously over-the-top slide trumpet.  How could you find something to fault on a record that’s this much fun?

“We Are MTO” – Steven Bernstein’s Millennial Territory Orchestra 4:03 (We Are MTO, MOWO 2008)

With each successive track during my first listen of Binario’s self-titled debut I waited impatiently for the punchline – there was no way that something this good had just arrived in my mailbox without my prior knowledge or anticipation.  Alas, by the last track the dreaded deal-breaker never came, which was when I realized that I was in the presence of year-end-list Greatness.  Whether Binario (2008) belongs in the company of “jazz” releases is certainly debatable, but I’d rather save that conversation for another time (read: never) and divulge some history first.  Ipanema Beach’s Binario was formed in 2002 and has expanded into a septet over the years, incorporating every style of music under the tropical sun into their unique sound, which is far too expansive and complex for mere descriptors here.  I’d like to call them Brazil’s version of one of the more underrated and bizarre bands of the ‘90s, Belgium’s dEUS, but perhaps they’re too obscure to stateside ears for a proper comparison.  It’s better to illustrate the experimental brilliance of Binario on a song-by-song basis: “Funeral” opens the record in a thick, psychedelic haze of blunt smoke, a stew of distorted guitars, thunderous drums, and warped cosmic samples.  “Balinha” is a New Year’s festival gone mad, veering between surf-inflected cocktail jazz and loud, drunken chanting.  The propulsive, conga-accented groove of “Jazzhole” is built upon banks of badass 8-bit Casios.  “Experimental (Catnip)” is a sunset stroll on a white-sand beach, but with a suspenseful, nervous presence lurking over the dunes.  I could go on and on here, but I’ve established my point.  Binario’s subtleties are immeasurable, its rewards infinite.  For the love of all that is golden and pure, get your hands on a copy of this record – no other non-metal release this year has received such an unwavering seal of approval from yours truly.

“Experimental (Catnip)” – Binario 4:52 (Binario, Far Out 2008)

Cuban-born Francisco Mela recently released his second platter as a leader, a live date titled Cirio (2008), recorded at New York’s Blue Note in September of last year.  Mela’s drumming has been in high demand as of late, as a member of John Scofield and Kenny Barron’s trios as well as manning the kit for Joanne Brackeen and Joe Lovano.  Cirio is fueled by the leader’s typically energetic playing and features pianist Jason Moran, Mark Turner on tenor, Larry Grenadier on bass, and man-of-the-hour Lionel Loueke on guitar and occasional vocals.  It’s an attractive if slightly overlong set, Loueke in particular sounding inspired by the setting.  And Grenadier is always a delight to follow, but his anchoring of the material here is astonishing, the central axis from which each soloist gravitates.  Cirio doesn’t generate the same excitement as debut Melao (2006) from two years ago, but it’s a nice way to bide the time until we see another studio release from Mela.

“Afro Son” – Francisco Mela 6:42 (Cirio, Half Note 2008)

Does the world need yet another presentation of Jobim tunes, much less one titled Novas Bossas (2008)?  When the presenters are Milton Nascimento and The Jobim Trio, a strong case could be made in the affirmative.  Nascimento and Trio drummer Paulo Braga have been playing together since the ‘60s, and with the father-son addition of Paulo and Daniel Jobim, the four set upon recording Novas Bossas following last year’s 80-year celebration of the iconic composer.  On Novas Bossas the group eschews the obvious (“Desafinado,” “The Girl from Ipanema”) for some of the deeper cuts from Jobim’s oeuvre, peppered with a handful of non-Jobim, but equally compelling inclusions. “Chega de Saudade,” the most familiar item, is given a refreshing update if a tad professional, while the drifting Daniel Jobim tune “Dias Azuis,” with its overlapping vocals, is absolutely lovely.  “Inútil Paisagem” is another standout, Daniel’s gentle piano softly kissing the track like gentle waves on a beach.  Nothing earth-shattering here, of course, but I’ve given the record numerous Quiet Weekend Morning tests and it’s passed with flying colors every time.

“Dias Azuis” – Milton Nascimento & Jobim Trio 4:09 (Novas Bossas, Blue Note 2008)

The legendary McCoy Tyner is hardly a stranger to colorful instrumental settings; his partnership with Orrin Keepnews during Tyner’s ‘70s prime found the pianist in everything from wild percussion jams to intimate trio moments to full orchestral panoramas.  Tyner has worked with guitarists before, of course – Grant Green chiefly among them – and his latest, simply titled Guitars (2008), features him in a trio supplemented by five separate contemporary axe-wielders.  With a rhythmic backbone as impeccable as Ron Carter and Jack DeJohnette I wanted to like this, but the results are too spotty, and the interactions oftentimes mildly cordial, for the disc to be enjoyed as a whole.  The four selections with Marc Ribot that open the record are surprisingly frustrating, with the guitarist never really finding his footing among Tyner’s dense voicings; the run-through of “Passion Dance” is a suffocating mess.  John Scofield and Derek Trucks seem to have a better grasp on things, even if the material isn’t particularly enlightening (really, “Greensleeves”?).  Bela Fleck’s banjo is a welcome diversion on his three cuts and Tyner takes full advantage of the unique opportunity, but it’s the closing dialogues with Bill Frisell that offer the most rewards.  Frisell’s homages to African guitarist Boubacar Traore on “Boubacar” and “Baba Drame” make up for the previous lulls that threatened to submerge the album, and ultimately leave the listener thirsty for a full-length Tyner/Frisell session.  Guitars (and its accompanying making-of DVD) is a worthwhile curiosity, but hardly essential.

“Contemplation” – McCoy Tyner ft. Bill Frisell 7:55 (Guitars, Half Note 2008)

It’s a cold, rainy Sunday afternoon in November and your stomach is aching for some sort of comfort food.  French onion soup would certainly do the trick, but try this unique take on homemade chicken noodle soup instead.  I found the basis for this fennel-fueled recipe online about a month ago and have been tinkering with it every weekend since, settling on the version presented here.  It’s really the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had; it makes your house or apartment smell amazing while cooking, and it tastes even better reheated.

Italian Chicken Noodle Soup
Serves four

1 tbsp. olive oil
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 small yellow onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
2 tsp. fennel seeds
1 tbsp. dried basil
Pinch of red pepper flakes
3 14.5 oz. cans low-sodium chicken broth
1 9 oz. package fresh mini cheese ravioli
2 cups diced cooked chicken
Grated Pecorino Romano cheese

Heat oil in heavy large saucepan over medium heat.  Add pepper, onion, garlic, celery, carrot, fennel seeds, basil, and red pepper flakes and sauté until vegetables are tender, 10 minutes.  Add broth.  Cover and simmer 20 minutes.  Increase to high and bring soup to a boil.  Add ravioli and boil until tender, about 5 minutes.  Add chicken and cook until heated through, about 1 minute.  Season soup to taste with salt and pepper, pour into bowls, and top with grated cheese.

Notes:

If you dislike the taste of fennel (my deepest sympathies to you), stay the hell away from this dish.  Its distinct smell is going to overpower your kitchen while the vegetables are sautéing and is an appropriate gauge for how strong its flavor will be in the soup.  Obviously, the amount of fennel, and the heat from the red pepper flakes, for that matter, can be adjusted to taste.

I found that the mini raviolis worked best for the pasta addition, as their size ensures that you’ll get one in every bite, but regular four-cheese ravioli or tortellini will work fine.  Just make sure it’s fresh.

Why not fresh basil?  You can substitute fresh instead of dried (make sure you double the amount of basil), but I tried it for a batch and it just wasn’t as potent; I suspect the condensed pungency of dried basil complements the fennel more efficiently.

I’ve been making a pot of this soup almost every weekend for the past month and freezing it in Tupperware containers for lunches.  If you plan on doing this, remember that it’s not necessary to boil the pasta; just add along with the chicken, remove from heat, wait until the soup cools, then freeze.  The pasta will cook when you reheat the dish.

Grated Romano or Parmesan cheese will work as a topping, but honestly, this soup is good enough without it.

Aural Pairing

Bobby Hutcherson “Bouquet” Happenings Blue Note 1966

Despite its hints of spiciness, this soup goes down marvelously with some sleepy, meditative acoustic jazz, preferably something from Blue Note’s mid-‘60s catalogue.  Bobby Hutcherson’s Happenings (1966), dominated by the leader’s icy vibes and Herbie Hancock’s elegant musings, hits the spot nicely.  Hutcherson was beginning a string of adventurous and first-class dates for the label at this phase of his career, a fruitful, decade-long relationship that would continue into the mid-‘70s and is sadly still patchy in the reissues department at present.  Happenings finds him in a comfortable quartet setting with the aforementioned Hancock (a cover of “Maiden Voyage” is the only non-Hutcherson tune here) along with bassist Bob Cranshaw and the always-reliable Joe Chambers on the kit.  “Bouquet”’s gentle buoyancy eases the listener through calm waters, guided by Cranshaw’s propulsive three-note motif and peppered with some tasty brush work by Chambers.  Hancock’s solo is reflective without being wistful and is a telling precursor to his breathtaking performance on Miles’ “Circles,” which would be recorded a few months later.  Bon appétit.

“Bouquet” – Bobby Hutcherson 8:10 (Happenings, Blue Note 1966)

I’m normally not one to get hung up on genre restrictions, but cataloging the latest from pianist Marco Benevento, a trio record titled Invisible Baby (2008), under the umbrella of “jazz” is one of the more liberating uses of the term that I’ve come across in quite a while.  Benevento made waves last year with the release of a sprawling three-disc set recorded live at Tonic, which alternated between solo and group performances in the legendary setting; everyone from Bobby Previte to Phish’s Mike Gordon showed up to participate.  To simply label Benevento as a “pianist” is a bit reductive; his arsenal includes organs, effects boxes, samplers, circuit-bent second-hand Casios, and even a Speak & Spell.  Invisible Baby finds him indulging in his toys with the same level of jubilance as a kid on Christmas morning, and would appear to reek of arrant self-indulgence were the material not so whimsical and fun: “If You Keep on Asking Me” is a drunken stagger home at three in the morning, “Ruby” is an elegant slice of cocktail jazz, “Atari” sounds exactly like its title, and “Record Book” morphs from a lullaby in 5/8 into a somber, reflective hymnal.  Drummers Matt Chamberlain (Tori Amos) and Andrew Barr (The Slip) are equally sympathetic to Benevento’s eccentricism, though the presence of bassist Reed Mathis is indispensable.  Invisible Baby is a tease at only eight tracks in 40 minutes, but the disc’s brevity only increases its replay value.  Outstanding and highly, highly recommended.

“The Real Morning Party” – Marco Benevento 4:56 (Invisible Baby, Hyena 2008)

Violinist and producer Jeff Gauthier has been working within the parameters of a fertile quintet for nearly a decade now, which he dubbed The Goatette and includes twin brothers Nels (guitar) and Alex (drums) Cline, pianist David Witham, and bassist Joel Hamilton.  House of Return (2008) is the band’s fifth outing on his own Cryptogramophone label and continues the exploratory soundscapes the group introduced on past releases like Mask (2002) and One and the Same (2006).  The seemingly bottomless wellspring of textures the collective draws from is the disc’s most alluring aspect: opener “Biko’s Blues” is a gorgeous mid-tempo number that bridges the gap between Gauthier’s folksy leanings and Witham’s cerebral musings, while the guitarist’s “Satellites and Sideburns” probes the outer reaches of the galaxy under a tense atmosphere, decorated by some tasteful electronics.  The writing, split between the members and former bassist Eric von Essen (who passed away in ’97), is actually the record’s only flaw, with some of the tunes floating along aimlessly in desperate need of a melody (Alex’s tone poem “Dizang” long overstays its welcome), but the group surmounts any compositional shortcomings by continually massaging and reshaping its aural environment.  Hamilton, in particular, is a delight to follow.  A strong effort, if a bit predictable at this juncture in the quintet’s existence.

“Friends of the Animals” – The Jeff Gauthier Goatette 7:20 (House of Return, Cryptogramophone 2008)

Who the hell does Aaron Parks think he is?  The young Seattle native just signed to Blue Note, recently wrapped up tours with Terence Blanchard and guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, and released last month what many are already heralding as Jazz Album of the Year with Invisible Cinema (2008).  Not a bad start for a 24-year-old.  On the surface, Invisible Cinema has no right to be as good as it is: Parks cites ’stock’ contemporary influences like Radiohead and Death Cab for Cutie alongside McCoy Tyner, describes his music as “cinematic,” and has a tendency toward eye-rolling Keith Jarrett-like song titles (“Harvesting Dance,” “Peaceful Warrior”).  Mere superficialities that are at once forgotten when confronted with the ten selections here, all penned by the leader, who is joined by guitarist Mike Moreno, bassist Matt Penman, and drummer Eric Harland in a series of ‘structured improv’ settings more in line with ‘70s prog-rock than the run-of-the-mill head/solo routines.  The first three cuts alone (“Travelers,” “Peaceful Warrior,” and “Nemesis”) are crammed with slick compositional devices and turnarounds, richly textured chords, head-spinning pulse juxtapositions (the 5/8 and 6/8 collision that closes “Travelers” is remarkable), and some of the finest group interplay I’ve heard in quite some time, especially between Parks and the acutely-intuitive Harland.  The results are elegant yet adventurous, intelligent yet unstuffy – and it doesn’t hurt that Parks’ touch is sublime (only the tedious Masada rip “Harvesting Dance” falls flat).  It would have been all too easy for Parks to play it safe on his first major label showcase – some standards here, a few obligatory Herbie nods there – but the grace and maturity he pulls off on Invisible Cinema has me eagerly anticipating his next move.

“Travelers” – Aaron Parks 5:35 (Invisible Cinema, Blue Note 2008)

Last month Chicago’s Mike Reed released two albums on the 482 Music label, and both have been receiving equal amounts of praise and stereo time over the past few weeks; I’m have trouble deciding between Proliferation (2008) and The Speed of Change (2008) as far as a favorite goes.  Reed has achieved man-about-town status at this point in his vocation, manning the kit for everyone from Rob Mazurek to Ken Vandermark, all the while staying busy with his curatorial duties of the annual Chicago Jazz and Pitchfork Music festivals. The Speed of Change is Reed’s second album in as many years with his Loose Assembly quintet, which includes Greg Ward on various reeds, bassist Josh Abrams, Tomeka Reid on cello, and vibraphonist Jason Adazsiewicz, supplemented by vocalist and flutist Nicole Mitchell on two numbers.  Reed leads the group through a set of collective compositions that range from meditative tone poems to sinuous post-bop, even ripping through a cover of Max Roach’s “Garvey’s Ghost” for shits. Adasiewicz may be the most subdued here but is crucial to the formula, providing splashes of color where necessary, which contrast wonderfully with Reed’s pensive yet surprisingly kinetic accents. A record whose rewards are bountiful even some dozen listens into it; this is a strong contender for jazz platter of the year.  (Expect coverage of the equally stellar Proliferation soon.)

“Soul Stirrer” – Mike Reed’s Loose Assembly 6:40 (The Speed of Change, 482 Music 2008)

Brooklyn resident Todd Sickafoose, perhaps better known as Ani DiFranco’s bassist, released his third solo jaunt this past June titled Tiny Resistors (2008), easily his most adventurous outing to date.  It’s one of the most fascinating and meticulously arranged records I’ve heard all year, hampered only by its extended running time (at a bloated 68 minutes).  Here Sickafoose works within a uniquely diverse ensemble that would implode in the hands of most leaders: four brass players, two guitars, and two drummers, with guests DiFranco and Andrew Bird on fiddle.  The result is a kind of exploratory, noir-ish mood music that at times seems akin to a lost soundtrack from a Jim Jarmusch flick, ranging from slinky carnival-esque dirges (“Future Flora”) to surrealistic piano laments (“Pianos of the 9th Ward”).  The fluidity of Sickafoose’s bass playing is the connective tissue throughout, with a refreshing emphasis on unfettered, organic playing over glitzy electronics and studio wizardry (the leader produced and mixed the record).  Tiny Resistors is probably not going to be everyone’s cup of Joe, but its eclectic and imaginative spirit will have little difficulty garnering its share of supporters.

“Future Flora” – Todd Sickafoose 6:27 (Tiny Resistors, Cryptogramophone 2008)