By Rebecca Bulnes
By Laurie Charles
By Chuck Strouse
By Lee Zimmerman
By Laurie Charles
By Falyn Freyman
By Hans Morgenstern
Bela Fleck and the Flecktones
Left of Cool
Outside the bluegrass world and the few bluegrass-inspired, traditional country recording sessions that must still be booked occasionally somewhere, banjo players are pretty rare birds. Consequently, even if he were only a mediocre instrumentalist, Bela Fleck would stand out in the primarily non-bluegrass, non-country contemporary music world in which he operates. But Fleck is simply an amazing musician. His decision as a teen to pick up that most countryfied of string instruments -- when, after seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, nearly everyone else his age ran to the music store to score an electric guitar -- has never held him back, either creatively or professionally.
In his youth Fleck of course started by emulating Flatt and Scruggs, but in the decades since he has helped to take both bluegrass and banjo in new directions. As a member of the seminal outfit New Grass Revival (for years the bane of many a bluegrass traditionalist's existence), he helped moved that genre off the hay wagon and closer to Mainstream, U.S.A. When New Grass disbanded in the late Eighties, Fleck put together the Flecktones (initially at the insistence of PBS television, which wanted to film a Fleck-fronted group for its Lonesome Pine Special). From its beginnings in 1990 and over the course of five studio albums and one live set, the band's music has embraced hints of jazz fusion, bebop, world beat, and even rock, while retaining only the slightest trace of any bluegrass influence.
Left of Cool, the Flecktones' first new album in five years, continues the evolution. Brothers Victor (bass) and Roy "Future Man" Wooten (percussion and vocals) handily complement Fleck's impeccable musicianship and exploratory nature. Together the trio samples funky, light-hearted jazz; reggae and Caribbean styles; straight pop; and Celtic and Appalachian phrasings. And underneath nearly all of these varied but well-executed meanderings lies a surprisingly nonstereotypical, sometimes ferociously played banjo. While at times the fifteen-track disc suffers from a touch of that pesky virus known as G-ification (most strains of which can be traced to one Kenny G), especially in the overbearing horn work of guest writer and performer Jeff Coffin, Left of Cool is more often than not invigorating, enjoyable, and thought-provoking.
Bela Fleck and the Flecktones perform at 7:30 p.m. Friday, October 16, on the Main Stage at the American Music Festival in Bubier Park, Las Olas Boulevard and Andrews Avenue, Fort Lauderdale. Call 954-761-5813 for information; see also "Concerts," page 104, for a complete lineup. Passes are $10, one day; $15, two days; $25, three days.
Run into Kevin Mahogany on the street and you're more likely to take him for a Miami Dolphins defensive lineman than a jazz balladeer. But My Romance, the new release from this 39-year-old Kansas City native, is less an all-out blitz than an elegant figure-skating routine. Mahogany can belt one with the best of them -- check out his role as Big Joe Turner in the Robert Altman film Kansas City -- but My Romance is a homage to a more courtly and cultivated style. On this collection of covers, he pays tribute to a few of the usual suspects and also offers some surprising choices. On the more traditional end, "Teach Me Tonight" and "Lush Life" recall Nat King Cole, who probably contributed more to male jazz vocals than everyone who came after him put together. And "Stairway to the Stars" was a favorite of Johnny Hartman, whose career peaked in the Sixties thanks to a brief collaboration with John Coltrane. Mahogany's voice is big and his range extensive, but here he maintains a gentle approach that matches the album's ardent, heartfelt lyrics ("Sorry that I ran out and lost my mind with someone new/Carelessly I left my heart behind with you").
Few, if any, male vocalists on the scene today can elicit favorable comparisons with the crooners of yore like Cole, Billy Eckstine, and Frank Sinatra, but Mahogany's versions of the songs that those men made famous clearly put him at the top of the heap. His forays outside the traditional jazz repertoire are equally rewarding. His take on James Taylor's "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight" isn't particularly memorable, but Van Morrison's little-known pastoral "Wild Honey" is one of the most spirited tracks on the album, replete with Morrisonesque sax solo and string section. Mahogany also tips his hat to another genre-bending Nineties artist with his cover of Lyle Lovett's "I Know You Know," a song so clever and well-written that it's almost impossible not to do it justice.
Mahogany doesn't completely transform the songs on My Romance the way a Cassandra Wilson might on her jazz interpretations; instead he chooses to sustain a classically elegant mood. A wonderfully sparse and restrained backing trio helps accomplish this, but the focus of the album is on a voice whose authenticity and ability are simply without peer in the jazz community.
-- Chris Duffy
(See "Night & Day," page 46, for concert information.)
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