Thumbscrew: Ours
Cuneiform Records
Thumbscrew: Theirs
Cuneiform Records
Mere months after triumphing with her ambitious Code Girl project, Mary Halvorson returns with longtime sparring partners Michael Formanek and Tomas Fujiwara for not one but two volumes of inimitable Thumbscrew music. The first of these contrasting yet complementary sets features material written by the trio; Theirs, naturally, is a collection of covers. Don't even consider choosing between them: both are terrific and deserve to be experienced as a single two-part release.
Perhaps no guitar-led trio is more exciting to listen to than Thumbscrew. The synergy between the players is at an incredibly high level, and all three sound wholly engaged and committed. The primary melodic role falls to Halvorson, of course, but Thumbscrew is very much a band of equals: all three straddle composition and improvisation with poise, and never does one serve as mere support for the others. Though the three play together in multiple group contexts, they never sound more invigorated than in Thumbscrew, perhaps because the trio format allows each a perfect blend of freedom and control. Consistent with that concept is the mix, which puts each player on an equal footing. Bass players often find themselves buried, but not here: Formanek's up front in all his glory and consequently the interplay between him and Halvorson provides one of Thumbscrew's most enticing pleasures. And as if to accentuate the democratic point further, the members contribute three works apiece to Ours' set-list.
Of the two volumes, it's Ours that more reflects an experimental jazz sensibility. It opens with a characteristically slippery cut from Halvorson, “Snarling Joys,” that sees the guitarist fluidly wending a woozy path between Fujiwara's ever-inventive skitter and Formanek's full-throated attack. Here and elsewhere, modulations in tempo and dynamics are effected with seeming ease, the trio advancing through ensemble and solo passages with assurance. Yes, there's snarl and joy in the playing, but the latter more captures the feeling generated by the piece. The drummer's “Saturn Way” nudges the trio into flights of Alice Coltrane-styled abstraction when the guitarist's bent notes collide with Formanek's bowing and Fujiwara's hand bells. The guitarist's wry side comes to the fore during “Thumbprint” when she drapes spidery lines across a subtly martial-tinged groove peppered with rimshots, cymbal flourishes, and (what sounds like) castanets. Venturing farthest afield is the bassist's low-slung “Cruel Heartless Bastards,” which seamlessly shifts between two metres before Halvorson tears the roof off with a searing solo that adds a dose of post-punk fury to the set. Not everything's so fierce: Fujiwara's “Rising Snow” and Formanek's “Unconditional” capture the trio in gentler mode, with the slower tempo conducive to wistful musings by the guitarist and sensitive colourations by her bandmates.
Thumbscrew's democratic mindset also extends to Theirs, with each member having first brought a selection of pieces for the group to consider before settling on the final ten. As great as the first volume is, the second might even be slightly better, simply because of how great it is to hear the trio dig into standards, including a few that are rather boppish and others that reflect their South American origins. The lead-off cut, Benny Golson's “Stablemates,” immediately sets the bar high when Halvorson brings her warp-inflected arsenal to the swinging piece, after which “Benzinho” by Brazilian composer Jacob Do Bandolim swings in a slightly different though no less infectious manner (swing is never far away on this volume, with the trio returning to it for a sparkling rendition of Stanley Cowell's “Effi” near album's end). Many a track, Jimmy Rowles' “The Peacocks” a case in point, is delivered at a relaxed tempo that suits the material's buoyant feel and also enables the listener a chance to monitor closely the choices made by individual players and the interactions between them. One of the more inspired cover selections is Wayne Shorter's “Dance Cadaverous,” which receives the set's most free-floating and textural treatment, while no mention of Theirs would be complete without mentioning the lilting version of Evelyn Danzig's “Scarlet Ribbons (For Her Hair),” a memorably heartfelt performance that's as close to a delicate ballad as Thumbscrew's ever likely to get.
With these volumes, Halvorson continues to solidify her status as a singular voice in contemporary jazz, and as we've noted before she's managed to establish a truly original voice as a guitarist, no small accomplishment when the number of axe-slingers is legion. The voices of Frisell, Metheny, and Scofield are immediately identifiable, but so too is Halvorson's, who's succeeded in creating a signature style unlike anyone else's. Certainly one of the greatest satisfactions Thumbscrew's trio format affords is that it presents her playing in such plentiful supply, and it's never less than riveting, regardless of whether she's soloing, articulating a melody, or comping. Formanek and Fujiwara impress too, not only for locking so solidly into place with the guitarist but for being so consistently responsive to the music as it's happening. This is a trio capable of tackling any number of styles, though even the most straitlaced standard ends up resembling a Thumbscrew original when the music's refracted so dramatically in their hands.June 2018