The Fred Hess Quartet
The Long And Short Of It

Tapestry 76006
Musicians: Fred Hess (tenor saxophone), Ron Miles (trumpet), Ken Filiano (bass), Matt Wilson (drums)


Deservedly or not, New York City is currently the stronghold of American jazz. This is likely due less to the fact that there are many extraordinary musicians in New York (which I won’t contest for a moment) but rather stems from the formidable influence that the frequently narrow-minded New York press exerts on the perceptions of the rest of the nation. Certainly if this were not the case, musicians like Nels and Alex Cline, Bert Wilson, and Billy Mintz would be accorded the acclaim that they deserve. Even clarinetist John Carter, relegated to obscurity behind much less deserving players during his lifetime, is only starting to be venerated as one of the most innovative instrumentalists and composers of his time.


Hopefully, listeners will make the effort to hear what’s going on in other parts of the country. This CD is just one reason why. Based in Colorado since 1981, tenor saxophonist Fred Hess will likely never get the respect he deserves. A brilliant stylist with a distinctive sound, Hess studied with Phil Woods, Gunther Schuller, and Lou Harrison and gives repertory concerts running the gamut from Louis Armstrong to Anthony Braxton. Though he is knowledgeable about most forms of jazz-related music as well as contemporary composition, Hess never verges on pastiche, instead playing in a thoroughly natural post-free style. Particularly unique is his gravitation to the so-called “cool school” of players like Lester Young and Stan Getz, which lends Hess’s work an unruffled poise even at its most angular. Actually, a more apt comparison, which repeatedly sprang to my mind, is to Joe Henderson’s later playing. Hess shares Henderson’s uncommonly pure tone as well as his fondness for unusual phrase lengths and an aversion to long strings of eighth notes.


Trumpeter Ron Miles, best known for his association with Bill Frisell, is an ideal frontline partner for Hess and a longtime collaborator. In contrast to the brassy, thin sounds of many modern trumpeters, Miles favors a tone that is weighty and richly textured and spends much of his time playing in a dark lower register. Bassist Ken Filiano certainly knows something about the limited awareness of the music press. Though he has since made the move to New York, for years he was a powerful force on the West Coast, playing with Vinny Golia, Rova saxophonist Steve Adams, pianist Richard Grossman, and many others. Then, he was one of the best bassists on the West Coast; I’m convinced he’s now one of the best in New York, and hopefully he’ll soon be recognized as such. In the bass’s traditional role, he carries an ensemble as much as he anchors it, but he’s also capable of expressive melodic work either pizzicato or arco. Drummer Matt Wilson may be the best known of these musicians. With his wide sonic palette and amiable musical personality, he’s been an asset to bands led by Dewey Redman, Mario Pavone, Charlie Kohlhase, and many others in addition to leading a very fine quartet of his own.


The music on this album, nine originals by Hess, is both idiomatic and hard to pin down in terms of exact precedents. It’s accessible, leftward leaning music that owes a clear debt to Ornette Coleman’s first quartet, but if Ornette was interested in abandoning harmony to more easily attain unhackneyed melody, Hess seems to revel in complexity.


On the opening “Norman Says,” there’s a slightly funky groove reminiscent of the more soulful Blue Note hard bop dates. Hess unfurls rippling lines of startling speed and complexity, but Miles’ takes a willfully angular path, seemingly following a beat all his own. The dark as night sound of Filiano’s bowed bass solo is a highlight of the tricky “Skippin’ In,” which also features exuberant collective improv at its end. Hess’s playing takes on an air of imperturbable calm on the bright “Happened Yesterday,” but he is edgy and restless on the vaguely baleful waltz ballad that follows, “MLE.” The multi-sectioned “The Clef’s Go To The Big City,” one of the most abstract pieces, has some extraordinary passages, including a slow dirge and a collective improvisation with Wilson playing quite effectively on power drills!


Miles sits out on “From Bottom to Top,” which has some of the same mix of angularity and folksy lyricism found in the work of reedman Marty Ehrlich. Though Hess has the trio to himself, Filiano steals the show with consistently fascinating soloing and accompaniment.
This is a beautifully played recording of intelligent freebop that allows in plenty of air. While challenging, Hess’s music is fresh and accessible, and fans of the leftward leaning hard bop of Joe Lovano and the like would do well to check out this slightly more abstract album by a too little-known voice. This album should make one thing abundantly clear: whatever it is that keeps Fred Hess from making the move to a jazz metropolis, it isn’t a lack of talent.
--David Vance