Okazaki never loses his grip on the melodies. They may get bent, crowded and pushed around, but they keep finding their way back.
Pi Recordings
Caroline Davis, Jon Irabagon, Anna Webber – saxophonists; Jacob Garchik, Kalia Vandever – trombonists; Chris Tordini, Hannah Marks – bassists; Matt Mitchell – piano; Dan Weiss – drums; Miles Okazaki – guitar
Miles Okazaki has been making his own path through jazz for more than two decades, as a guitarist, composer and bandleader. Boomtown is his ninth album of original music and his fourth for Pi Recordings. He brings together ten musicians—three saxophones, two trombones, two basses, piano, drums and guitar—and gives them music that piles up melodies, rhythms and counter-melodies until it feels almost ready to topple.
“Magic Hour” is a strong way to start, with strummed guitar and blurred trombones suggesting a jazzy Americana. Okazaki’s metallic-edged guitar gives the picked, Spanish-sounding notes a slightly twisted quality. “Boomtown Girl” expands the frame, with guitar notes tinkling behind the saxophones, trombones, basses and drums. Okazaki keeps trying to hold the floor as the other instruments gang up around him. There are so many well-defined lines that it feels like agreed-upon chaos.
The trick is keeping all those competing lines distinct, even when the music starts pushing toward overload. “Thermopolis” is melodic with pointy edges, built on a pounding rhythm while Okazaki plays searching lines beneath fluttering and squabbling saxophones. The music grows heavier without turning into undifferentiated noise. Even when the drums and basses become more forceful and the saxophones start squealing, Okazaki can step out with a straightforward melody and make it clear that there’s still a tune underneath all the commotion.
The album knows when to pull back, too. The slow “Diamondville” pairs Jacob Garchik’s rich, clear trombone with Okazaki’s strumming, while “Ten Sleep” is close to serene, with a sedate piano, horns entering on tip-toe, and guitar lines weaving through the trombones. “Recluse Road” strips things down further, with the rhythm locked in place and Okazaki playing freely over the top.
This isn’t music built around musicians taking turns soloing. On “Hole in the Wall,” repeating guitar and saxophone phrases bump into one another over a driving drum rhythm, with new lines appearing before the previous ones have finished. Everything is happening at once, but the individual lines remain distinct. The tune slows, guitar notes keep repeating, and it sounds like a machine winding down. “Devils Tower” pushes the tension further, as repeated guitar notes, evenly spaced horn lines and increasingly forceful drums pile up. The guitar grows more insistent as saxophones weave through the arrangement, until the whole band is pressing forward at once.
Okazaki never loses his grip on the melodies. They may get bent, crowded and pushed around, but they keep finding their way back.
