On my way to the Turf Club, I was trying to calculate exactly how a jazz combo was going to fit in with the regular atmosphere of the bar, and I kept drawing a blank; it was either going to be really awkward or really cool. When I arrived at the club, I saw that the stage had been left mostly empty in favor of a drum kit and row of chairs and music stands set up in front of the stage, in the area usually reserved for dancing. Aging white jazz heads – an impressive majority of which wore black-rimmed glasses – were perched on barstools around the room, sipping lager and chatting quietly amongst themselves. At the moment when Chicago’s Vandermark 5 “took the stage” and played their first note, the transition was complete, and the jig was up: the Turf Club makes one hell of a sultry jazz venue.
The quintet is led by Ken Vandermark, a prolific jazz musician who bears an uncanny resemblance to Brad Pitt (if Pitt had a buzz cut and state trooper moustache), and who changed from one reed instrument to another often throughout the set. With the lights in the club dimmed, the group was aglow under a swinging, wobbling ceiling fan that provided surprisingly good stage lighting and helped to set the mood.
Vandermark 5 includes Kent Kessler, an inventive upright bass player that is equally proficient at walking a blues scales and excising bowed, soulful moans; Dave Rempis, a younger sax player that almost outshines Vandermark at times with his technical ability; Fred Longberg-Holm, who provides diverse and much-welcomed color on his cello; and Tim Daisy, a shuffling, sensitive drummer.
Though the jazz they play is inventive, I hesitate to classify Vandermark 5 as avant-garde – and not only because it’s a self-proclaimed descriptive that is overused in the jazz world. V5 is doing exactly what a contemporary group of capable jazz musicians ought to do, which is to continually develop new and interesting sounds. Jazz improvisation, after all, is about taking a familiar form, taking some chances, and expounding on the chords and scales that are already known. V5 has mastered this kind of improvisation, jumping from one sound to the next while remaining accessible, pulling in the listener with recognizable styles and then branching out into new territory.
When V5 is energized, they play burning, quick-lick jazz that is calculated and precise. Vandermark and Rempis often worked in synchronized sax parts between improvisational solos, showing the audience that there is, in fact, a method to their madness. Longberg-Holm’s parts sound almost synthesized at times, alternating plucked staccato notes with wrenching, bowed wails in a manner not normally exhibited by cello players. One especially technical piece, “Signpost,” featured Kessler playing a whispering, pensive bass solo, and then launching into the whole group playing some great, metric jazz.
In a slower piece, “Further From the Truth,” Vandermark announced with a grin, “This is going to be a ballad, whether you like it or not.” With Vandermark on bass clarinet, blending with the saxophone and cello, the group was pastoral and pensive; the song reminded me immediately of the peaceful string harmonies of Spaghetti Western String Company.
V5 quickly transitioned back into more freak-out jazz, with Rundis playing a phenomenal, technically complicated improvised solo before handing the spotlight back to Vandermark. All of the players were gracious to each other’s soloing and responded with smiles, claps, and nods, showing the audience that they all have been around for awhile and that they know a good jazz moment when they hear one. |
