Redman's 'Compass' points newbies to jazz

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"COMPASS," Joshua Redman (Nonesuch)

For most of us, jazz is someone else's music. It exists as an occasional, incidental (usually accidental) bit of background noise in the soundtrack of our lives, like when the Weather Channel is showing "Local on the 8s."
Those who want to give jazz an opportunity to be more than that should start with something such as "Compass" by Joshua Redman.
The accomplished and acclaimed saxophonist, who has indeed had his music played during "Local on the 8s," is neither obscure (like might be expected of many self-indulgent, experimental jazz performers) nor bland (like is expected of "smooth jazz" types who turn popular songs into dreck). Redman composed all the tracks on "Compass" save an interpretation of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," and to the jazz novice they might seem surprisingly full of personality and mood changes.
Forceful rhythms help propel fresh tracks such as "Faraway" and "Un Peu Fou," which are kinetic but not frenetic. There are instantly accessible, lively tracks like "Hutchhiker's Guide" and "Round Reuben" (whose titles pay tribute to drummer Gregory Hutchinson and bass player Reuben Rogers) and shifting atmosphere that alternates with warmth and coolness.
From the moment he taps into the surrealistic and uncertain "Uncharted," Redman is superb on sax -- charging through progressions note-for-note alongside bass on "Identity Thief," starting subtly and then driving hard on "Just Like You" and "Little Ditty" and infusing closer "Through the Valley" with sensuality.
Aficionados might marvel at Redman's innovative recording technique for "Compass": Several tracks feature twin rhythm sections (two drummers and two bass players performing simultaneously), creating unusually raucous cadence.
But jazz fans are likely already sold on Redman. What's more significant is that "Compass" is a tempting invitation to potential new fans.
Rating (five possible): 4

"LA BIBOURNOISE," Genticorum (Genticorum)

Give Genticorum a chance, and you'll likely be charmed by the Quebec trio's "La Bibournoise."
Sad fact is, few Americans will accept the challenge: The members of Genticorum sing in French, their music is built on old Quebecois folk songs and the fiddle is emphasized more than the guitar.
Yet those who gamble on "La Bibournoise," even if only out of curiosity, will likely appreciate the diversion as Pascal Gemme, Alex de Grosbois-Garand and Yann Falquet escort them on a flurry of fiddles and flutes set to foot-stomped beats and nontraditional meters.
Several tracks are instrumentals, individual journeys prone to reel over several parts and flow like a river gaining strength as feeder streams boost its momentum. The vocal-less cuts include the emphatic opener "La Grondeuse Opossoum," a waltzing "Valse Beaulieu" that actually does put the guitar in the foreground and "Hommage a Andre Alain," a tribute to a fiddler known for his use of "crooked time," which opens gingerly and kicks into a spritely gallop.
In contrast, the three men are only singing on the a cappella title track, a primal, meat-lovers' dream. They swap out vocals elsewhere, typically echoing the lead with supporting vocals and filling out the sound with stirring, organic instrumentation. They sing of a monk whose secret lover is exposed ("Le Moine Blanc"), an adulterous woman whose husband ends up wearing her lover's pants ("Les Culottes de V'lour") and a dying petty officer who will never again see his loved one ("Le Vingt D'Avril"). Good old-fashioned yarns.
"La Bibournoise" doesn't have broad appeal, and perhaps the trio could have used a few more tricks to entice listeners. Nonetheless, it's a rewarding break from the norm.
Rating: 3-1/2

"TCHAMANTCHE," Rokia Traore (Nonesuch)

"Power" is a relative term. It can refer to everything from physical might to authority. When the word is used to describe a singer, it typically means the vocalist is a volumizing belter.
Yet for Rokia Traore and her persuasive use of subtlety, it's all about the power of understatement.
The Mali native -- a diplomat's daughter schooled in Europe -- conserves the lush intonations of her voice on her new "Tchamantche," typically using trembling inflections to convey emotion rather than high-pitched grandstanding.
Her backdrop is a fusion of traditional and contemporary instrumentation, which includes guitar (played by Traore), harp, percussion, human beatbox and a type of lute called a n'goni.
The results include the long-smoldering epic opener "Dounia" and a "Dianfa" that feels both delicate and weighty as all the layers meld together into a mesmerizing drone. And although Traore engages in a few extra vocal stunts on the French-language "Aimer," that track, too, yields to a vibrating convergence.
"Tchamantche" allures with spacious softer cuts such as the ancient-feeling "Kounandi" and the airy closer "A Ou Ni Sou," though the humming sedation of the title track doesn't ease the tension of its mysterious ambience. Traore also deftly leads the complex interplay of instruments and frenetic vocals on "Koronoko" and "Tounka," her preternatural and soulful delivery trumping all dissenting nuance.
The lone pitfall on the release is Traore's cover of the George Gershwin classic "The Man I Love," which falters from her lack of conviction with the language on the collection's lone English song. Only then does "Tchamantche" feel subpar.
Rating: 4

(E-mail Chuck Campbell of The Knoxville News-Sentinel in Tennessee at Campbell(at)knews.com.)
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