Squid's Ear - Village Underground

The Village Underground, not known for being a jazz venue more than once a year (last year brought the Miles Davis tribute Children of Agharta), is a typical rock club. Loud speakers, sticky tables, raucous audiences. For a Muñoz show, which usually tests the decibel tolerance of the listeners, the locale was appropriate for this CD release party. Never has a rock club had so much star power. Muñoz, the bandleader, was probably the second least known. Ahead of him, in some abstract order, was Ravi Coltrane on tenor (son of the late...), Rashied Ali (last drummer of the late...), Pharaoh Sanders (last horn foil of the late...) and Paul Shaffer (musical director and bandleader on Late Show with David Letterman). Indeed, there were several audience members there for Shaffer alone, who arranged and bankrolled the entire evening. Well, thanks to Shaffer for his largesse.

The show was wonderful if painfully loud. Muñoz, whose guitar style is exclusively single note lines (no chords or comping), imbues his performances with a spirit that is sincere and inviting (it helps that he plays very infrequently and thus gives his all at every performance). Sanders can be hit or miss, but was in top form for the show, liberally mixing a sweet straight tone with the honks made famous. Rashied Ali is the consummate drummer, well aware of when and when not to lay out. He was undermiked though, particularly when playing brushes. Ravi Coltrane, despite his discomfort with the role, has been touted as one of the new vibrant heirs to his father's tradition. He is no John but he makes a pretty good Ravi and has to be respected for not trying to outdo Sanders but rather complement him. And while Shaffer is difficult to see in the role of a jazz musician, he blended well into the group's sound, which, in some cases is not what a jazz musician wants but in his case was welcome.

Muñoz played several pieces over the lengthy show, though only one from his new album. To assign names to his songs seems a little futile as they mostly sound the same and usually end up in the same discordant maelstrom by the end. This is not to say though that it is not enjoyable to witness. Muñoz brings intensity to his music that infects his compatriots and does smack of the spirituality that drives him. His spirit is an aggressive one rather than one of quiet contemplation. Like his fellow "Coltrane" guitarists John McLaughlin and Carlos Santana, he does not want for energy. And like the groups of the formers (Mahavishnu Orchestra, Love Devotion Surrender group, etc.), the point is to be so overwhelmed by volume and density as to lose the sense of different musicians playing together. It is one sound, thankfully a good one.

Let this review end by recounting a wonderful New York moment that occurred after the show was over. The tourist-infested block of West 3rd Street off Sixth Avenue at one point had Pharaoh Sanders and Rashied Ali on one side of the street while directly across were Ron Carter and Jimmy Cobb. The occasion was the Four Generations of Miles show at the Blue Note and the de facto Coltrane tribute that is every Tsziji Muñoz show. This was the closest our generation will get the to the days of club-lined 52nd Street.