Newly-arrived this week: more ‘90s jazz, in the shape of two secondhand CDs ordered via ebay.
First, from ‘98, A Go Go by John Scofield. On it, Scofield (guitar) is ably supported by John Medeski (keys), Billy Martin (drums) and Chris Wood (bass). This is an infectious collection of groove-based numbers blending funk, soul and jazz without sounding like jazz-funk as I’d encountered it elsewhere. It begins with the title track which sets out its stall in admirably forthright fashion. It all sounds marvellous, though I’d single out the way Martin’s snare drum is played and recorded for a special commendation.
Second, from ‘94, MoodSwing by the Joshua Redman Quartet. Here. Redman on tenor and soprano saxophone is joined by Brad Mehldau (piano), Christian McBride (bass) and Brian Blade (drums). The playing and recording here again are excellent. It seems that some reckoned it a tad unadventurous when it came out (and there may be something to that), but it’s a deluxe production done with evident love – I think I’ll be spending plenty of time with it. Hear for example the opening number ‘Sweet Sorrow’.
I was intrigued enough by the premise of M. John Harrison’s recently-published novel The End of Everything to buy it, despite having been left with mixed feelings by his previous effort The Sunken Land Begins to Rise Again. The new book takes place in a near-future England stricken by a sort of slow-motion apocalypse brought about by the arrival of inscrutable alien entities from some adjacent plane of existence. Alas, I liked it less than The Sunken Land... Where the latter excelled, for me, was in the vividly clammy strangeness of the atmosphere it conjured up. I didn’t think that the former, seemingly striving for a more elusively liminal mood, succeeded as well in that respect. Nor was its plot the strongest, or its characters the most interesting. It does have its merits: there were some moments that impressed me, and it has returned to weakly haunt my mind a few times since I finished it.
Also finished this week, Richard Dadd: Beyond Bedlam. This is the catalogue for newly-opened exhibition of Dadd’s paintings and drawings at the Royal Academy in London. His work isn’t new to me: I’ve owned Patricia Allderidge’s book The Late Richard Dadd for the better part of thirty years, and have seen (albeit far from recently) a number of his works in person. It’s great to have a more up-to-date volume about the man and his art. The new catalogue includes a number of works I hadn’t seen before, and others reproduced in colour that I’d only hitherto only seen in black and white. As well as the catalogue itself, the book contains four essays: a biographical overview; a study of Dadd’s deeply unnerving watercolour ‘The Child’s Problem’; an account of the painter’s influences and artistic precursors; and a discussion of the mental illness that afflicted him.
Booze of the week: Ardbeg 10-year-old single malt whisky. My drinking problem these days that I can only seem to get a little alcohol down me every once in a while without risking unwelcome digestive repercussions. A case in point: I was given a bottle of Ardbeg as a Christmas gift in 2023, finally polishing off the last dram of it only on Saturday. The notes about the whisky’s aroma at the Ardbeg website are a marvel of their kind: “A burst of intense smoky fruit escapes into the atmosphere of peat infused with zesty lemon and lime, wrapped in waxy dark chocolate. Bold menthol and black pepper slice through the sweet smoke followed by tarry ropes and graphite. Savour the aroma of smoked fish and crispy bacon alongside green bell peppers, baked pineapple and pear juice...”. And so it goes on: I shall have to take their word for it! There’s no denying it’s a good whisky though.