Omar Thomas Large Ensemble • Griot Songs Omar Thomas Music (no catalogue number)
“The Sun In September,” an Omar Thomas original, leads off the album with a beautiful, tranquil lullaby featuring impassioned playing from soprano saxophonist Lihi Haruvi. The ensemble writing here is outstanding, as is the playing of the 17 musicians. Trumpeter Jason Palmer shows off his chops on a fine, free-for-all solo before the ensemble, after a riotous interlude, breaks into a joyous, climactic ending. Next, Thom Yorke’s “Sail To the Moon” serves as a vehicle to showcase the fluid trombone playing of Evan Amoroso. The Gil Evans-inspired arrangement builds to a peak, with Amoroso’s trombone adding emphasis, then descends into a “free” jazz event. And this was where I got lost, losing my bearings amid the spastic noise coming from my speakers. Evan is no doubt a virtuoso on his instrument, but I found this track to be an extremely challenging listen. The ending brought to mind the group Radiohead (as it should, since Thom Yorke was a creative force in that band). After some intense drumming, punctuated with delicate piano interludes courtesy of Alex Brown, the number ends on a more pleasant note. Side two opens with what appears to be a traditional big-band swing number, albeit one with more contemporary harmonies. It isn’t long before the haunting melody gives way to Josh Reed’s heavily miked trumpet solo. His horn speaks fluidly as it weaves its tale over an emphatic rhythm section and percolating ensemble. The tune ends with some guttural trombone machinations from Evan Amoroso placed with purpose over a pulsing beat and searing electric guitar from Mark Cocheo. The entire ensemble returns to carry the number out, riding on a throbbing, insinuating beat. Next up, “Nothing There” stimulates the ears with a prolonged intro from the band, leading to an impassioned solo from tenor saxophonist Jon Bean. The sense of longing and heartbreak oozes from the grooves courtesy of the soloist, the writing and tight ensemble playing. The final few bars are gut-wrenching. You won’t be dancing to “Episode d’Azur,” which opens side three, but you’ll enjoy listening. This Lyle Mays composition features some nice Harmon-muted trumpet by Jason Palmer. Mays's tune receives heartfelt retelling here. Alex Brown’s piano, emulating Mays’s style, puts the finishing touches on this relatively straightforward piece. A growl from the trombones opens “The Path,” followed by a slow, dirge-like passage from which Mark Cocheo’s guitar emerges. He tells his story backed by an aggressive ensemble that appears to be challenging him for the spotlight. Ultimately, the electric guitar wins the contest on this, the longest track on the album, as Cocheo’s electronically manipulated guitar takes over. A brief pause returns the ensemble to the forefront with more impressive guitar playing in the background. The loping rhythm begs for some resolution, which finally comes, to close the musical adventure. Side four is one tune, “A Touch Of Obsidian, A Flash Of Scarlet.“ It opens with Jacob Means’s mandolin hitting a Latin vibe with the ensemble coming in with a sultry, fluid merengue. Soon, Mark Zaleski sails in for a fine, extended alto saxophone solo. Ignited by the sax solo, the entire ensemble explodes into a climax before easing off into quietude from which Mark Cocheo’s acoustic guitar emerges weaving flamenco colors. The band accentuates the mood until it recedes and the guitar quietly brings the tune to a close. There were moments listening to the four sides of this
album that I came close to throwing my notepad at the turntable -- the sounds coming from
my speakers were so strange. Reason prevailed, however, and I came to accept those moments
for what they were: musical statements of a high order. The quality of the recording,
mastering and pressing ensured that everything storyteller Omar Thomas wanted to be heard
was heard. If you savor the sound of a big band -- the arranging, the soloing, and the
swing -- you’ll most likely enjoy this album, even if, at times, it stretches the
envelope. Persist, though, and you’ll be rewarded with a listening experience not
soon forgotten. |
t the end of
my fourth listen to Brooklynite Omar Thomas’s self-released Griot Songs, I
finally began to see the light. My initial reaction to the album was to get up and put the
record away. But I gave it another chance and was glad I did. Griot Songs is modern
jazz performed by a “large ensemble.” Consisting of five reeds, four trumpets,
four trombones, guitar, piano, bass and drums, Thomas’s Large Ensemble is indeed a
sizable group of performers. And they can, on occasion, make quite a racket. Established
in 2008 for his graduate compositional recital at the New England Conservatory,
Thomas’s big band returns to the studio to record this, its third album. In addition
to being active as an in-demand arranger and composer, 41-year old Thomas maintains ties
to academia, last serving as Associate Professor of Composition and Jazz Studies at the
University of Texas. In 2019, he became the first Black composer to be awarded the
National Bandmasters Association’s William D. Revelli Award. The Ensemble’s
highly praised previous releases were 2013’s I Am and 2015’s We
Will Know: An LGBT Civil Rights Piece in Four Movements. Thomas acknowledges the
influence of, among others, bandleaders Bob Brookmeyer and Maria Schneider on his
compositional, arranging and band-leading sensibilities.