I've always had a soft-spot for the sax-trio; that spacious formation where technique and ideas are tested, and where if we're very lucky saxophone gods are born. This type of pianoless trio, with a tenor centerpoint in the bass/ drums triangle, immediately brings to mind the (still) great Sonny Rollins, and the precedent he set with albums like
Night At The Village Vanguard,
Way Out West, and
Freedom Suite. Those were all powerful, hard-driving sonic tributes to an unbeatable tenor sound, backed up by skillful ringers in the bass and drum slots, who reacted and backed up the aggressive musings of Rollins. Sky and Country, by the Turner/Ballard/Grenadier collective Fly, is on the other hand a much different (but no less interesting) animal than it's untamed-Rollins-ancestor. An animal slightly cooled by it's ECM recording and melodic sensibilities, but far from domesticated.
For one thing Fly is truly a cooperative, not two sidemen backing up the snaking tenor of Mark Turner. From the rotating authorship of it's compositions, to the free-flowing, intertwined, airy sound, there is no one instrument that dominates the proceedings at the expense of the others. This is a collaboration in name and in form. Interestingly enough these musicians are familiar with each other not just from Fly's eponymous first release: 2004's
Fly, but from their many sidemen gigs, working in some combination with Joshua Redman, Brad Meldau, Kurt Rosenwinkle, Chick Corea, and Reid Anderson, among others. Another plus in the experience column is that they are actually a touring group, not just a semi-allstar two-off. As such you can hear their progression from their (very solid) 2004 debut. In that first album Mark Turner was somewhat too tentative, and Jeff Ballard too assertive, but on Sky and Country the balance is chilled perfection.
The other big difference from their first album is the change in record label. ECM, like Blue Note before it, isn't just a label, it's a measurable sound; and like Blue Note it has it's share of champions and detractors based not only on it's personnel but on it's engineering. Whereas Blue Note had that RVG enmeshed gut-level blues, that earth bound sound that had the bass/drums tangled up over the piano, ECM is known for it's spacious-quiet, it's clean and clear separation of the bass and horns, that atmospheric sublime quality that lends itself so well to the European side of things. The saxophone playing of Mark Turner is right at home in this ethereal sound, coming as it is out of Warne Marsh (it's a sad commentary on old timey jazz critics that it's considered "brave" for a black saxophonist like Turner or Braxton to admit to a white influence in their sound, but not surprising considering that many older jazz critics are still in the mind-space of the glorious 60's anyway). And like Marsh, Turner shows to full effect his long snaking lines that are also long on ideas and melody, lines that float like a balloon caught in an invisible current of cool air. This contrasts well with the looping funk of Ballard's drums, and the cascading effect of his cymbal work. Into this languid stew comes Larry Grenadier and his strong, woody, bass (and sometimes cerebral arco), a solid anchor that keeps the music from floating off into space and out of reach.
If you're looking for a reference to help you decide if this album is worth the price of admission I'd say it's a cross between Lee Konitz's cool but charged sax-trio album
Motion, and some of the more atmospheric musings of the Paul Motian trio like
I Have the Room Above Her (infact Lovano and Turner have much in common). I can see how this might not be for everyone, but if you're like me and love hearing a different take on the sax-trio then you won't be disapointed by this up-and-coming co-op.
cheers.