(Avant-Garde Jazz, Free Improvisation) [WEB] Roscoe Mitchell with Craig Taborn and Kikanju Baku - Conversations I & Conversations II - 2014, FLAC (tracks), lossless

Roscoe Mitchell is a revered name in improvised music circles, an out-jazz giant who is often spoken as if his great works come from so long-ago period. In truth, the seventy-three year old sax and flute giant had never left us, never faded. Last year he made Wide Hive Records his new home and the association revitalized him, beginning with an inspired pairing with rising star percussionist Tyshawn Sorey and guest spots by underrated trumpeter Hugh Ragin. As it turns out, Mitchell was just getting warmed up: his encounter with keyboardist Craig Taborn and drummer/percussionist Kikanju Baku is as adventurous and fulfilling as anything’s he’s done is his fifty year career.
Conversations I, currently available for sale, is seventy-eight minutes of instantaneous explorations of jazz’s outer regions barely contained on a single shiny disc. One of the original AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians) stars out of Chicago, Mitchell’s new album features many of the same innovations that were present on his Sound debut nearly fifty years ago: wide-open spaces among musicians, cadence that varies in such a way to mirror the rhythm of life, and solos so abstract, they aren’t even really solos; they’re speech through instruments.
Mitchell made this record with members of a younger generation, and as such, the album is probably more a revelation about them than their ringleader. Craig Taborn has been involved in plenty of avant-garde projects with plenty of avant-garde heavyweights, but the pianist is identified closely with the downtown NYC crowd, not the AACM bunch. Kikanju Baku is lesser known, but based on his sympathetic and unreserved drum and percussion work on this album, he damned well should be.
The three bring a child-like wonder in creating fundamental sonorities, putting aside everything they picked up in formal education. “Knock And Roll” is one of those “go with the flow” type of songs: Mitchell is firmly leading the way, making a reed-y skronk come out of his sax, resembling a manzello. He fills up more and more of the sonic space and the other two follow until a ruckus ensues. The trio collectively releases also on “Darse,” with Taborn’s dense piano lines recalling Muhal Richard Abrams classic small combo sessions.
More often than not, these performances are the sparse, dispersed ones, like “Ride the Wind,” where Mitchell makes his flute emulate the random electro noises from Taborn. Baku’s well-placed chimes and assorted minimal percussion provides punctuation to the leader’s saxophone sentences. Mitchell barely pushes notes past his reed during much of “Distant Radio Transmission,” but still randomly emits ear splitting tones. Eventually, his sax sounds like moving the radio dial rapidly up and down. Taborn’s piano and electro-noises don’t make their presence known until late into the song, as he eases himself in gradually and tentatively at first. “Rub” goes further still in its desolation: often, the next sound between Mitchell and Baku isn’t made until the prior one is done, and Taborn patiently finds his spots around them.
The use of synthesizer sounds does nothing to diminish Mitchell’s mission; in fact, he consistently finds ways to integrate with it. On “Who Dat,” Taborn cuts loose some spacey synth noises, sparking Baku’s restive snare and hit-hat. Mitchell goes down to the lower reaches of his sax then way up high, and the way his sax is miked, it’s nearly indistinguishable from Taborn’s electro whimpers and groans. Baku sits out of “Outpost Nine Calling,” during which Taborn makes creepy sounds from a keyboard that approximate the aching sounds coming from Mitchell’s saxophone. Baku does dominate on “Cracked Roses,” putting down funky start/stop rhythms with hi-hat and snare, and Mitchell manipulates his sax by squealing high and low notes nearly simultaneously.
Conversations I revels in its random, extemporaneous intonations, offering proof that ideas Roscoe Mitchell first put forth in the mid-60’s are nowhere near exhausted. It’s the kind of album that demands an encore, and wouldn’t you know there’s one coming: Conversations II is due out tomorrow. (S. Victor Aaron)

Picking up right where Roscoe and company left off is Conversations II. Culled from the same 2 days in the studio as Conversations I, the music is in the same vein, exploratory. The main difference between this second record and the first, is a more mellow tone throughout. The musicians appear to become more and more comfortable on the collection of songs. Now its hard to determine without better documentation of the recording set order, but Conversations II feels more cohesive, where Conversations I felt more like a “let’s get to know each other” collection.
Although this is not the explosive up and down roller coaster that the first disc yielded, it deserves a place on the shelf next to the first one. Often times with a multi-disc set I’m left wondering if they had chopped the best material down to one disc would the experience be better. With these two albums, I can say that both discs warranted release, due mainly to the difference in the feel of the music. And had they chose to release one album vs. two, fans of this music would surely have missed out on some amazing music. The “negative” of Conversations I as the artwork for II is very fitting. I can’t recommend one disc over the other but I can absolutely recommend picked up at least one of these if not both. (Josh Campbell)

Multireedist Roscoe Mitchell is well into his 70s, but coasting just isn’t on his agenda. These two albums, which are products of the same two-day session, reflect a recent strategy in which the master woodwind player has matched up with much younger drummers who have some concepts of their own.
Like drummer Mike Reed and multi-instrumentalist Weasel Walter, both of whom he has played with in the past year, Kikanju Baku, the percussionist on this session, is a player who makes things happen. Possessed of both manic energy and a fine instinct for restraint, he articulates elaborate shapes that sound like they owe as much to prog rock as to any tradition of improvisation.
Mitchell takes to their convolution like a duck to water; his own playing is all sharp angles, coarse cries and pitches so acrid, they seem to have been set alight by Baku’s ferocity. Taborn’s piano runs match Mitchell’s lines in momentum and persistence, but he also has good instincts for when to hold back; there are long passages where he plays sparsely or not at all. His other keyboards add subliminal textures and tonal variety without once lapsing into mere novelty.
Both of these CDs are remarkably consistent; the engagement and invention never flags, which makes it hard to favor one over the other. Honor also goes out to the session engineers, Gregory Howe and Jimmy Fontana. Not only is he sound crisp and immaculate, it imparts a spacial experience hat makes it feel like the music is happening all around the listener. (Bill Meyer)