(Richie Goods – electric bass, producer, mixer; Helen Sung – keyboards; Mike Clark – drums; Jeff Lockhart – guitar)
Jazz-rock fusion has a bad name in some jazz circles, but when the music is done right, it can be fluent, fluid, and finessed. Bassist Richie Goods proves he understands first generation fusion, knows what works best, and brings it all together on his debut as a recording leader, Live at the Zinc Bar. Goods does not try to reinvent old school 1970s-era fusion, nor does he slavishly copy what has come previously. Instead, the ensemble imparts an individual accent to the modern-day proceedings, while Goods and his quartet evoke the glory days of jazz fusion, avoiding the commercialized pitfalls that plagued far too many releases issued during the flared jeans era.
Goods has the talent and experience to carry his intentions to realization, including associations with Russell Malone, Stanley Turrentine, and Mulgrew Miller as well as backing pop and rap artists. Goods also had the fortune to snag some gifted players: drummer Mike Clark, who was a member of Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters; guitarist Jeff Lockhart, who has worked extensively with Walter Beasley; and keyboardist Helen Sung, who switched from acoustic piano to electric instruments for this live date.
The nine numbers are a mixture of appropriate covers and like-minded originals. The gig is initially lit and ignited with Wayne Shorter’s “Elegant People,” the well known Weather Report song found on the Black Market album. The band starts with a confident and even-keeled introduction before the familiar melody flows in. While the arrangement is not wholly changed from what Weather Report recorded, the rendition is distinctly done by Goods and Nuclear Fusion. Sung is the prominent star. While she drops in a few hints of Joe Zawinul, she chiefly maintains her own singularity with some well-seasoned soloing. The piece advances quickly to a sharp boil, supported constantly by Clark’s burnished rhythmic groove and Lockhart’s proportionately pulsing six strings.
The retro route builds up on a rough and ready romp through Lenny White’s “Sorceress.” Lockhart and Sung both shine throughout the ten minute party favor. Lockhart lays out a sinuous wah-wah tone before transitioning to a straightforward and hard electric resonance, while Sung broadens her sonic palette on the Fender Rhodes, although her synth work is not as prismatic. Near the end, Goods shows some of his Stanley Clarke-tinged electric bass rigging.
Goods firmly establishes his deep bass credentials on the Goods/Sung composition, “Desert Song,” which could be confused for a classic Chick Corea arrangement by anyone not intensely conversant with Return to Forever material. Goods prefaces the melodically rich cut with a vaporous solo introduction that appears influenced by Marcus Miller. On “Desert Song” Sung is again front and center, shifting efficiently from synth to Fender Rhodes and sometimes dips in a little portion of electric piano. Both Goods and Clark sustain a brawny beat, while Lockhart mostly holds an understated appearance, subtly overlaying his contributions alongside or behind the other musicians.
Another fine Goods invention is “King Jaffe Joffer,” where Clark clips along with an exotic second-line shuffle, while Sung shoulders most of the melody. Goods is quite assertive on his bass, pacing Sung while forming agitated phrases and harmonics. Lockhart also solos, but generally remains on the outside edge.
For those who know Clark’s tenure in the Headhunters, listening to him take part in the new interpretation of funkified “Palm Grease,” from Hancock’s album Thrust, is an interesting comparison and contrast. Headhunters fans can knock heads on which version is preferred, but Sung’s flashy Fender Rhodes runs, Goods’ thick bass commentary, Clark’s rounded percussive adornments, and Lockhart’s Pete Cosey-inclined guitar embellishments add up to a heady and slippery jam. The group also soars on Hancock’s “Sly,” another solid demonstration of Sung’s inspired keyboard interaction, which invokes Chick Corea’s acute workouts, while Lockhart also provides one of his few extended electrified six-string exhibitions.
However, Lockhart’s eminent moment comes during one of the set’s highlights, the unit’s take on the Tony Williams Lifetime piece “Snake Oil,” penned by Lifetime bassist Tony Newton. Here, Lockhart duels with Sung, but eventually delivers an enthusiastic guitar storm, including penetrating chords and roaring riffs that conjure up the spirit of Larry Coryell’s Eleventh House.
The concert closes with a lengthened retake of “Desert Song.” While the longer presentation is more evolved than the first rendition, and tells a slightly different narrative, it is unclear why it is needed. It has some serpentine Sung and Lockhart improvisations, but on the other hand, it seems superfluous to include two renderings of the same composition on this compact disc.
A note about the live recording: While the overall quality is excellent, there is inescapable hiss and hum that occasionally creeps in during certain segments, particularly noticeable on the lulls between songs. It is not distracting, but imputes some background buzz that cannot be completely ignored.
TrackList:
1. Elegant People
2. Sorceress
3. Desert Song intro
4. Desert Song
5. Snake Oil
6. King Jaffe Joffer
7. Sly
8. Palm Grease
9. Desert Song (long version)
— Doug Simpson
