Customer Reviews

Jenny Scheinman - 12 Songs

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. . . and I mean nothing pejorative by such a label. In fact, to make appealing music in this manner is a very high accomplishment, in my opinion. The problem when you assay these musical waters is to avoid sounding at once precious and fey. For example, some feel Frisell's latest forays in such precincts betray a kind of flaccidity uncharacteristic of his earlier endeavors. I disagree, but I see the point.

Jenny Scheinman avoids even a whiff of that by imbuing her music with a rigor and unsentimentality that always wins the day. Rather magically, one might say, she still manages to purvey sounds entirely accessible, even (more often than not) starkly beautiful. This is no small feat. What she manages to do is produce music partaking of the heart of whatever genre that interests her even as she transmutes its core into something astonishingly new. Take, for example, "Little Calypso." Who'd think you could come up with something new in this hackneyed type of music? Well, she does, brilliantly pairing instruments seldom associated with it (violin and clarinet) to great effect.

Throughout there's a mood of crystalline dreaminess, most fully and attractively on display on "Antenna," a heartlandish anthem of huge evocation and presence. But the vibe pervades the entire disc with such force and authority (hear "Moe Hawk" and "Sleeping in the Aquifer," two radically but strangely linked numbers, to fully encounter what I mean) as to stamp the proceedings with a weight and substance seldom found in popular music of any kind, let alone jazz.

A confession. It took me a long time to find access to this music. Bearing such an overwhelmingly unique sound signature, which almost tended to swamp everything else, this disc gave me pause. I was in awe of it, bowled over by it, but not in love with it. Repeated listenings wooed me to embrace its remarkable heart, to let its glorious though somewhat odd sensibility just wash over me, setting aside my critical instincts and simply embrace its loveliness.

So if this review sounds more like a love letter than a critical assessment, so be it. Music this ravishingly beautiful is above criticism.

Violinist Jenny Sheinman draws upon her varied experiences as an improviser to enrich a set of memorably tuneful instrumentals. Coast to coast, Sheinman has played with a who's-who of improvised music, from Scott Amendola and Carla Bozulich to Bill Frisell and Norah Jones. While there are no vocals on "12 Songs," that doesn't interfere with the tunes' natural ability to insinuate themselves into your subconscious. Ably abetted by a small group of her peers, Scheinman has written a subtle but compelling album.

With a septet at her disposal, featuring - guitarist Bill Frisell, trumpeter Ron Miles, clarinetist Doug Weiselman, accordionist/keyboardist Rachelle Garniez, bassist Tim Luntzel and drummer Dan Rieser, the album is steeped in a rich Americana vibe that pushes at its boundaries. Personnel line ups vary so that not every musician is featured on each tune. The album has a sparse and un-congested feel, which lends more space for melodic invention. Solos are plentiful, but brief, and never at the expense of the structure of the tunes themselves. Scheinman's lyrical violin playing is found all over the album, naturally, but her fellow musicians are also given plenty of space to represent themselves.

The quirky phrasing of Scheinman's frequent employer and fellow conspirator, Bill Frisell, are heard in the haunting melodies and lush harmonies of these catchy and irrepressible tunes. Although this album may at first sound overly Frisellian, it actually sounds more like the sort of album Frisell used to make, before he became subsumed into NPR-safe Americana. Scheinman is a more unpredictable sort however. Although the majority of songs here are very much in tune with the heartland, they are tinged with traces of Klezmer, Celtic, Calypso, Bluegrass, Country, Blues, and other folk variations.

While these tunes are instantly enjoyable they come with a rich, dark underbelly that betrays their sunny exterior. It's the sort of thing Frisell used to write, fortunately that tradition is still alive. Intriguingly, Frisell himself sounds better here than he does on his own recent records, freed of the pressure to make commercially appealing music, he lets himself go off on wilder tangents.

"12 Songs" boasts a memorable collection of well written songs that sound instantly familiar, yet strangely timeless. This is one to spin over and over again.

Fiddler Scheinman is a little bit polka, a little bit klezmer, a little bit downtown jazz, a little bit Penguin Cafe Orchestra. The accordion is Gypsy, the clarinets are Mazel Tof, the cornet is pure Doctor Nerve, Bill Frisell is, well, Bill Frisell. Nino Rota rubs shoulders with Marvin Hamlisch in a Viennese sitting room. Influences abound -- wildly divergent influences -- but the synthesis is fresh and coherent and full of youthful vigor.

Where would a store file a disc such as this?

How the hell am I going to enter it in my database?

Also notable: four of the 12 song titles include spelling errors. Does it matter? Was it intentional?

And what are those things on the cover?

This is my first Jenny Scheinman CD. I bought it on a recommendation by Audiophile magazine. I enjoy all kinds of violin music. This CD was recorded and mastered by a great engineer. Play it big, through floor standing speakers very loud. Jenny's skill with a violin is exceptional.