Chad McCullough: Forward
Outside in Music

Forward is the first release from Chad McCullough under his own name since 2009's Dark Wood, Dark Water, but the trumpeter has hardly been dormant. In the eleven years since that debut, he's issued two albums with the Spin Quartet, five with Belgian pianist Bram Weijters, and played with many others. He now makes an auspicious return as a leader with Forward, a compact, forty-minute set that's in many ways McCullough's love letter to Chicago.

Drawn to the Windy City's vibrant music scene, he moved there seven years ago from his native Seattle and was quickly accepted into Chicago's music community. Meeting Matt Ulery led to McCullough joining the bassist on his Festival and Sifting Stars albums, and Ulery returns the favour on Forward along with two other key members of his orbit, pianist Rob Clearfield and drummer Jon Deitemyer. Rounding out the participants is co-producer Ryan Cohan, credited with keyboards and programming textures on three of the six tracks.

With all of the compositions McCullough's, Forward is very much his date, and he's also clearly the lead voice. Yet the performances themselves indicate a more equal level playing field: Clearfield is his usual versatile self and matches the trumpeter as a formidable soloist; Deitemyer is as imaginative and rhythmically forceful as ever; and Ulery likewise brings his customary authority to the playing. McCullough is obviously fortunate to have such tremendous players joining him on the project.

The recording is abundant in satisfactions, among them McCullough's playing. In place of a brash, aggressive attack, his sound is mellifluous and his approach thoughtful. Marked by clarity, deliberation, and taste, his playing at times gravitates in an introspective direction, the flugelhorn especially conducive to that character. He possesses obvious facility yet refrains from grandstanding, preferring instead to align his approach to a composition's mood. Another key takeaway has to do with how deftly the musicians attune themselves to real-time fluctuations in dynamics, the seamless alternation between balladry and cool bop in “Gentle” but one illustration.

“November Lake” blossoms resplendently in its first moments before the tune's melodic character coalesces. Subtly insistent, the piece captures the telepathy in play with the rhythm section responding to the leader's every gesture. The performance intensifies and decompresses with fluidity, chaperoned as it is by the four musicians. Not the only time on the album, Clearfield follows McCullough's solo with an arresting one of his own before reintegrating himself into the group. Perpetuating the pensive tone of the opener, a piano ostinato introduces “Oak Park” before it settles into a ruminative groove, the silken quality of the material enhanced by string textures from Cohan. McCullough's no Miles clone, but the solo he delivers during the track's second half evidences the kind of thoughtful circumspection so typical of the legend.

Cohan again makes his presence felt on “Grace at the Gavel or Grace at the Gallows” by adding shimmering string accents to the musicians' funereal expressions. As contemplative as the material often is (e.g., the lyrical, lustrous closer “Water Tower Sunset”), Forward isn't without uptempo moments, with the propulsive, Deitemyer-stoked drive of “Focal Point” handily documenting the combustible side of McCullough's sound.

November 2020