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SHOW REVIEW:


THE RON MILES QUARTET, with TODD SICKAFOOSE, JASON MORAN, and MATT WILSON

@ The Jazz Standard, May 27, 2009


MAY 27, 2009 -- GRAMERCY: The Ron Miles Quartet is another dynamite example of a group that should've been together for way longer than they have been. The fact of the matter is, this two-night, four-set run at the Jazz Standard was the first time this particular configuration had played together, and under Miles' leadership the results were pretty great.

The quartet began at a relaxed pace, easing into an interesting chord progression that housed a soaring melody. Pianist Moran steadily laid into the chords as Miles' honest trumpet tone laid down the truth.

After the piece ended, as relaxed as it began, Ron Miles addressed the crowd and revealed that the opening number was a song called "I Woke Up In Love This Morning" by the Partridge Family. Yes, that Partridge Family. Miles admitted to having been an avid fan of the show growing up and - after a failed attempt to remember the youngest girl's name on the show (with drummer Matt Wilson's assistance) - he confessed to having gone many years before realizing that the Partridge Family were not in fact a real band.

Yes, this Patridge Family...

The Quartet's version bared no resemblance in terms of camp, but did faithfully preserve the pop matter of the piece, something that definitely lent to the overall enjoyment. Ron Miles knew that, and his awareness and embracing of historical loves such as phony television bands, or a specific Prince lyric ("New Breed Leader; For Wayne Shorter" played later in the set, drew it's inspiration from that very place) gives his pieces - and the whole band's performance - a new dimension. It's a mix of light-heartedness, open-mindedness, and creativity. This is further displayed by the tone of Miles' horn, a rare-blarer, that never pierced, but rather crept into the sound. There was almost cooperation between the man and the instrument, rather than an simple arm twist and overpowering that is often heard through the trumpet relationship.

The second piece was a Miles original titled "Jesus Loves Me" written for Ginger Baker, which was a beautiful composition on top of which the band built, then vanished, allowing Miles and bassist Todd Sickafoose to have it out. With the precise time management of Wilson gone, Miles and Sickafoose played with the time, letting emotional bursts drive the improvisation, and making the re-entry of the band that more powerful. Before the melody returned at the finish, Matt Wilson took a drum solo. Again, as the quartet continues to defy little conventions, Wilson spared the loose canon drum approach, and instead restricted himself to hitting only one drum at a time, despite the ability to hit four. This approach made you listen, and it made you care. His improvisation ended with his right hand dragging repeatedly and rhythmically over the rack tom, creating a unique sound, that got softer and softer as he lightened his touch. In the land of projecting horns, mic'd pianos and amplifiers, an audience is not often treated to such a fascinating display of sonic control, from a drummer no less. Jokey stereotypes be damned, Wilson killed it.

I haven't cited a specific Jason Moran shining piano moment yet because not one stood out above the other. He was a rock, a fierce ensemble player always providing support, and his solos never once ran long. The creative development felt endless, and there were no tricks. It was sheer musicality that made Jason Moran such an essential element in this group. One of the coolest things I heard him do repeatedly was connect two or three note trills in unsuspecting jagged ways, causing the piano to sound like an organic glitching synth.

The Ron Miles Quartet ended the set with the Duke Ellington 1920's composition "Black Beauty." The restraint projected ferocity. During Moran's solo, Matt Wilson locked into a tiny classic "chik-chika-chik" swing pattern on the closed hi-hat while Sickafoose walked, or rather stomped, quarter notes. It was such a classic solid bed for Moran to make magic on top of, and it was a perfect note to end on, displaying the band's versatility, control, and love for the music.


-Adam Schatz