As much an experience in hypnotic textures as a voyage through aquatic depths, Ben Monder's Oceana captures an essential mood and holds it for a full seventy minutes. That's no small feat, but the guitarist wisely works with four other talented musicians who ably intuit his vision in order to help make it happen. Notably absent from this effort is drummer Jim Black, who appeared on Monder's four previous releases, but Ted Poor steps in and provides the right combination of texture and accent.
Monder starts this collection of seven original pieces with the clean solo guitar "Still Motion," which sets the pace and the tone for the record. Arpeggiated chords and unison tones hold down a shifting net of sound that floats and sinks, eerily washing over the scene and advancing with a sort of tidal motion toward a brief, stark single-note conclusion. Theo Bleckmann, whose wordless vocal style emphasizes pure melody over flash and bang, provides a brief minute of church-like "Light" before the rest of the group kicks in on the title track.
Once the bass and drums emerge, "Oceana" provides a highly polyrhythmic, nearly syncopated dreamscape that reappears later on the recording. This piece is light years away from the traditional jazz head-solo-head format, more distinctly resembling a tone poem without much melody. In the end the compositional aspect is the single most important thing tying these pieces together, but it's sufficiently loose to allow subtle interplay and shared group momentum.
The highlight of the recording is the quartet "Echolalia," in which Bleckmann singlehandedly carries the moody melody, though he's borne forward on the backbone of interlocking instrumental interaction. Bleckmann is a rare and notable exception in the jazz vocalist world because he has turned his voice into an effective instrument with its own characteristically clean, thin resonance. If you step back for a second, you'll realize this piece is essentially a guitar trio with a singer, and in that sense it becomes a song, but not without the accumulating residue of woozy greyness that envelops the whole album.
Another long solo guitar piece provides an extended interlude before Monder fuzzes up his tone for the dark, rumbling prog-rock "Rooms of Light" and returns to uneasy calm for the ethereal "Spectre." The very lack of resolution that marks the end of the album is what characterizes it throughout, helping distinguish Oceana as a truly exceptional disc that cannot and should not be categorized. - Aaj Staff (allaboutjazz.com)
It's not uncommon to hear talk about artists spreading their stylistic umbrella so wide that figuring out who they are becomes a challenge. It's not so much that their personal voices are unclear; rather, it requires examining a wide cross-section of recordings. In simpler times past, artists might evolve, but any single release could present a clear conduit to their creative predilections.
Still, jazz has always had its share of artists who needed to be assessed over a larger body of work—and considerable time. Miles Davis, Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock...any of these artists might be inappropriately pigeonholed were one to select a single recording from their discographies as the sole determinant of their musical voices.
It's safe to say that guitarist Ben Monder, with a résumé including Maria Schneider's Orchestra, Guillermo Klein's Los Gauchos, and Paul Motian's Electric Bebop Band, fits this description. Oceana may not provide the complete picture, but it gives a broader view of Monder than most single releases, and it's unquestionably his most fully-realized record to date. It combines complex through-composition with influences ranging from contemporary classical music to Americana and progressive rock. Monder's tinted filter means these influences end up taking on more personal meaning.
It would be too easy to describe the opening solo acoustic guitar piece "Still Motion" as Metheny-informed. Certainly the folksy fingerpicking comes from that space, but Monder's melodies are more abstract than Metheny's accessible lyricism. "Double Sun," a solo electric guitar composition, is darker, evolving gradually and with periodically emerging melodies approaching pretty, only to ultimately be consumed by its hauntingly bleak ambience.
The title track features bassist Kermit Driscoll, drummer Ted Poor, and the wordless vocals of Theo Bleckmann. A knottily complex twelve-tone exercise in arpeggiation, it suggests how King Crimson's Robert Fripp might sound were he to take a softer approach and base it on a less constricted harmonic foundation. A series of episodes traverse a cross-spectrum of dynamics, creating an atmospheric form without ever really defining a consistent melody. Equally ethereal is "Echolalia," where Bleckmann builds a more discernable theme over the trio's soft cushion of arpeggios, brushwork, and long bass tones.
Skuli Sverrisson replaces Driscoll for "Rooms of Light" and "Spectre." On the former, Monder assumes a more aggressive stance with an overdriven tone that matches Sverrisson's powerful attack. This episodic, long-form piece runs the gamut from complex progressive rock to a soft but enigmatic respite, before the rock pulse returns and Monder delivers one of the only clearly delineated solos on the disc—referencing, to some degree, Allan Holdsworth in its rapid-fire legato style. The somber "Spectre" closes the album, with space and sound equal partners; the decay of notes is more meaningful than their gentle attack.
Keeping overt soloing at a minimum, Oceana defies any conventional jazz definition. But it's an album that could only be made by musicians versed in the jazz language and, consequently, deserves to be heard by those open-minded enough to see and feel its subtle connections. - John Kelman
It may be named after bodies of water, but Ben Monder’s long-awaited new album has a predominantly airy feel. That’s partly a given–whether on electric or acoustic guitar, Monder heeds a floating sensibility–but he also encourages the idea. Among the album’s seven tracks are “Light,” “Rooms of Light” and “Double Sun”; the only aquatic cut is “Oceana” itself. And one of the most prominent timbres is the unearthly falsetto of Theo Bleckmann, wordlessly soaring like a gull. (So maybe it’s a seagull, but still.)
Whatever the element, this is a brilliantly distinctive album. Monder’s shimmering arpeggios and shifting rhythms, and the deep synchronicity of bassist Kermit Driscoll and drummer Ted Poor, make the title track a serious opus. “Echolalia,” a lilting samba, offers a personal miniaturization of the Pat Metheny Group. “Rooms of Light” finds Skuli Sverrisson replacing Driscoll for some razor’s-edge fusion, complete with fuzz tones and choppy meters; the bassist stays aboard for “Spectre,” which sounds as diaphanous as its name suggests.
Remarkably, Monder delivers two album highlights unaccompanied. “Rooms of Light” and “Still Motion,” his solo-guitar pieces, are miracles of technical and emotional expression. It’s hard to imagine another player reaching these particular heights, or depths. - Nate Chinen (jazztimes.com)
Tracks
1. Still Motion
2. Light
3. Oceana
4. Echolalia
5. Double Sun
6. Rooms of Light
7. Spectre
BEN MONDER guitar
KERMIT DRISCOLL bass (tracks: 3, 4)
TED POOR drums (tracks: 2 to 4, 6, 7)
SKÚLI SVERRISSON bass (tracks: 6, 7)
THEO BLECKMANN voice (tracks: 2 to 4, 6, 7)
All music composed by Ben Monder
Recorded at Brooklyn Recording, January 25-27, 2004
Track 1 recorded at Shelter Island Sound, October 22, 2004
Sunnyside - SSC 1146