(Contemporary Jazz | Post-Bop | Progressive Jazz) [WEB] GoGo Penguin - A Humdrum Star [Deluxe Edition] - 2018, FLAC (tracks), lossless

If 2016's Man Made Object, their first for Blue Note, was an exercise in consolidating past triumphs while signposting potential ways forward, then there can be no doubt that with A Humdrum Star GoGo Penguin have stepped into a version of that future. Ostensibly the title is a self-effacing reference to a Carl Sagan TV series "Cosmos," emphasising how small and insignificant our world is and by extension our own petty concerns are. The quote reads "We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people." It's a quote that fits some in the jazz community's penchant for self-important navel gazing too of course—following the release of Man Made Object one or two of the more reactionary elements of the UK jazz scene questioned whether the group could even be called jazz. Its a debate that we can deal with quickly—as Mats Gustafsson reflected in Sammy Stein's excellent book All That's Jazz: ..."there are actually huge numbers of great players and great music these days but I have no idea what to call their music...." GoGo Penguin are a beautiful blend of elements of jazz and improvised music with clear nods to modern classical, electronica and old school house music. Jazz fits as well as any descriptor but none is entirely adequate for a group that exists in the gaps between those genres. So why would a few conflate a personal view of a record with a declaration that music they don't like is somehow invalid as "jazz"? If we take genre purity to its logical conclusion, then we would never have moved beyond the harp, lute and descant recorder. Absurd yes, but no more ridiculous than defining jazz as something that must have roots in, say, the 'Great American Songbook,' Kind of Blue or even Bitches' Brew—however fine we may find some or all of these. Use what works, play what you enjoy, listen freely, discuss the music you like and ignore the rest. Life really is too short. A Humdrum Star is a definite jump forward in the incorporation of electronic music into the GoGo Penguin sound and, like it or not, jazz. The signs were certainly there in 2016, when bassist Nick Blacka spoke of the greater freedom, or at least absence of rules he saw in electronic music, yet this time there is a greater confidence in realising their intentions. Its an openness that allows the group to take compositional inspiration from different sources and methods—they have, for example, sometimes started the traditional way on bass and piano while on others used modern production packages such as Ableton and Logic to make initial sketches that they can collectively develop. It's a 'whatever works' attitude that has allowed them to capture that creative spark in the most efficient way, not losing the moment in requiring a certain set of instrumental pre-conditions to be met. There is a rush to the opening trio of compositions that serves as a good weather-vane to your likely reaction to the record. The moody "Prayer," soulful piano underpinned by electronic rumble and effects, leading rapidly into the higher register chiming piano of "Raven" that starts in jazz before heading towards the sort of territory explored by Roni Size's Reprazent in the 1990s. Its neither entirely drum & bass, nor acoustic jazz, but it does include a great improvised piano solo from Chris Illingworth in a modern classical style, and is generally fantastic. The album's killer, the immense "Bardo," is better still. Illingworth's high register piano seeming to float over the bass and sub-bass rumble to give a remarkable sense of acoustic space. The track is currently getting attention in the UK from the likes of Mary Anne Hobbs on the BBC's enlightened 6music station, and is an extraordinary piece of music, quite possibly the best thing they have done to date. The use of piano over electronic beats has echoes of the mid-1990s progressive house of Brian Transeau or the more European take of Shazz on the French F-Communications label—although for the good of your continued membership of the jazz community it is probably best to keep this to yourself. There is an increased confidence to the performance on "Strid" too, the audacious way that the piece jumps like a DJ's fader has been flicked to another tune and back. The structure is inspired by the way that fate can randomly intervene in our lives, inspired by a beautiful yet perilous stretch of the River Wharfe where Nick Blacka grew up. The piano led "Transient State" is perhaps the most similar to the style of previous albums but even here there is a greater assurance in the way that the rhythm shifts and crunches yet remains in keeping with the original theme. It also features some great cymbal work from Rob Turner at the final breakdown that builds the excitement and would sound fantastic live. For GoGo Penguin, A Humdrum Star is the culmination of the musical development they have been building towards since their debut Fanfares appeared on Matthew Halsall's Gondwana records back in 2012. The influences from electronic music have been absorbed, developed and interpreted from the standpoint of musicians with interests in modern classical, jazz and improvised music which means that, like Mats Gustafsson trying to define jazz, heaven only knows what we should call it. What we can say is that it is an exciting, exhilarating and original blend that freshens up its sources and takes them somewhere new. 2018 has its first classic—highly recommended.
allaboutjazz.com

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Different worlds have always collided, vividly, in the sound of GoGo Penguin. The Manchester-based trio conjure richly atmospheric music that draws from their shared love of electronica, their grounding in classical conservatoires and jazz ensembles alongside indie bands, and a merging of acoustic and electronic techniques. Over the past few years, it has earned them rapturous responses all over the world—The New York Times highlighted them as one of the 12 best bands at SXSW 2017—and proved that they’re just as at home playing to muddy festival goers as jazz fans. Their latest album, A Humdrum Star, builds on the heady momentum of its acclaimed predecessors—the 2014 Mercury Prize-nominated V2.0 and their 2016 Blue Note debut Man Made Object—and transports it to new realms. “I think we felt even more liberated on this album—and I think there’s more of each of us on it,” says bassist Nick Blacka. “When we were making V2.0, we were just getting together as much as we could, hustling spaces to work. Man Made Object definitely had more of an immediate sense of pressure. “Having been through those experiences, the most difficult thing about making this album was that we tour so much. But when we do find time to record, there’s never a shortage of inspiration. That’s what’s great about this band; someone brings an idea, then it snowballs into this other space nobody was expecting.” The band have gathered in the bar at HOME, the buzzy Manchester multi-arts centre where they originally premiered their 21st-century score for Godfrey Reggio’s cult doc Koyaanisqatsi (a 2015 experiment which yielded an extensive live tour). On A Humdrum Star, their latest material reveals both native turf and far-flung influences. They evoke the symbiotic flow between Nick, pianist Chris Illingworth, and drummer Rob Turner, as well as their seasoned relationship with producer and sound engineer Joe Reiser (credited as the “fourth member” of GGP, both on tour and in the studio) and co-producer Brendan Williams. As with previous albums, these tracks stemmed from a love of electronic music, whether collectively developed from “sketches” written by Rob on DJ/producer tech including Logic and Ableton, or composed on the bass or at the piano. That electro-acoustic tension pulses throughout the new album, from the beautifully brooding piano melody and dissonance that makes opener “Prayer” so soulful yet unsettling, to the stirring, house-y reverb that gives way to Rob’s propulsive beats on “Bardo.” “We started with this idea of ‘inner and outer’, and opposing things that are essentially the same,” says Rob. “A lot of the textures and sounds do come from the electronic writing, but Brendan also wanted everything to be made as organically as possible.” This provoked various DIY twists, such as chains and even a tape measure held against Nick’s bass strings to create the rustling rhythms on “Prayer.” Rob elaborates: “’A Hundred Moons’ started out as a kind of early Brian Eno ambient vibe; the beat actually came late one night when I started listening to a Caribbean hymn—I had no idea what it was, but it was so hypnotic, I played it for days. The two forces came together from nowhere.” His eyes widen, humorously: “You could think of it as really cosmic…” “Transient State” sounds both restless and reflective; it’s infused with the spirit (and surrealism) of life on the road, as Chris explains: “We had a day off in Tokyo last year, and Nick and I wandered around the Shibuya district; we saw a Shinto shrine in Yoyogi Park, which was mind-blowing. The entire day was an amazing mixture of different things: rockabilly dancers outside the park, a traditional wedding procession…” Chris began reading into the Shinto belief in kami spirits: embodied in nature, and embracing equally good and bad. “It relates to the idea of being on tour, in that constant flux—and experiences that might be positive or negative, but are all part of a bigger thing.” Elsewhere, Chris likens the interplay on “Strid,” between the edgy funk of Nick’s bassline, Rob’s loops, and his own more chilled-out chords to “the fader on record turntables, where you flick it to another groove and then back again.” This track is named after a beautiful yet perilous stretch of the river Wharfe in Yorkshire, where Nick grew up. Nick recalls: “We’d go for picnics there, by Bolton Abbey, and I used to look at this innocuous-seeming river, which apparently turns on its side out of sight, and which has killed loads of people. It’s just the idea that you could be happy and safe in your life, then – game over; things don’t always appear as they are.”
While the band forged the new material’s intensity through a string of “secret” live dates in East London, they were also intent on recording entirely in Manchester, for the first time – at Low Four, located within the historic Old Granada Studios. All three had gravitated towards the city as young students (Chris and Rob originally attended the Royal Northern College of Music) and stayed on, crossing paths across various local groups, throwing parties (Nick ran ad hoc nights at the Klondyke, a former bowling club in South Manchester), and signing to Gondwana records (run by Mancunian jazz musician Matthew Halsall) for their first two albums. Nick was invited to join GGP following the 2012 release Fanfares; his arrival sealed a thrilling dynamic. “It made things fresh again, the way we were able to develop ideas together, on top of what we already had to start with,” says Chris. “The band, in this format, was relatively inevitable,” adds Rob. “Maybe we’re the only lunatics that are prepared to do it; we’re too far in it to give up.” They’re now settled into their rehearsal space in Wellington House, Ancoats: a converted fabric mill that now houses hundreds of musicians and artists; art rockers and fellow Mercury nominees Everything Everything are in the room below. “I’ve never stopped loving Manchester: the scene, the players, the people, and maybe the legacy of it all,” smiles Nick. “It’s just big enough and just small enough; the city’s creative output means that you’re never really pulled away.” There is poetry and precision in GGP’s new work—and intimacy and vastness. Their titles tend to speak volumes, in tandem with their evocative instrumentals. They’d actually completed the new album’s track-listing before settling on the name for A Humdrum Star—yet it captures a distinctive tone. It’s taken from a quote by American astrophysicist Carl Sagan, on his 1980 TV series Cosmos, which Rob reads aloud: “Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people.”
bluenote.com

Chris Illingworth: piano
Nick Blacka: bass
Rob Turner: drums