Bagatellen.com review of Rosetta, October 2006
For the discriminating jazz fan, a bias towards acoustic bass can sometimes be a frustrating trait to satiate. Often, the instrument comes saddled with an array of technological handicaps, from over-amplification to under-representation in a recorded mix. The potential snags are so common that it’s exceptional to encounter the bull fiddle in an unadorned and naturalistic setting, its inherent weight and depth unimpeded by meddling accoutrements. That susceptibility toward sullied sound is a large part of what makes Stephan Crump’s new disc such a refreshing experience. Joining him in a deceptively understated program of eleven chamberish originals are two similar-minded associates, guitarists Liberty Ellman and Jamie Fox, the former playing acoustic while the latter plugs in.
Crump is probably best known for his long-standing post as bassist in Vijay Iyer’s various ensembles. Ellman has worked with Henry Threadgill, Steve Coleman and Greg Osby and has in recent years come into his own as a leader on disc. Fox’s references range even farther from a jazz focus and include stints with Joan Baez, Dr. John and Blood, Sweat & Tears. All three work from musical philosophies that are pan-genre in scope and that shared ecumenical disposition directly informs their interplay here. Crump’s sources of inspiration are equally varied from past acquaintances to the floral features of his native Tennessee, but an underlying meditation on post-9/11 existence serves as a unifying crux. Contrapuntal patterns are an integral facet of the interplay with the two guitarists separated into stereo channels and Crump prominently planted at the center. A strong rhythmic component also informs the players’ complementary lines and Crump’s steady, reverberant touch makes for an astute anchor in this regard. The contrast between electric and acoustic sonorities boosts color and breadth in the music, as does the occasional muted squeaks emanating off Ellman’s frets. All three men shift effortlessly from solo to support roles and the moments of creative stasis are few.
The rustic self-effacing blues and country quality of many the pieces reminds me a bit of Bill Frisell while the loping moodiness of tracks like “Kudzu” and “Ingénue” brings to mind less elliptical variants of early Joe Morris (say circa Flip and Spike). Excited by the quiet, but persistent creativity of this disc, I spun it for my girlfriend. “Sounds like they’re warming up,” was her somewhat dismissive reply. Not to me, these three were ready to hit when the tape machine whirred to life. The results evince a string trio of noteworthy sensitivity and finesse.