Customer Reviews

Suite for New York

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Suite for New York is the latest from someone who stands head above all the other "Young Lions". Like his mentor, the late Don Pullen, D.D. can play inside and outside with the greatest of ease, and keep you moved and fascinated throughout the ride.
I left New York in 1978, and D.D. moved there in 1989. He's captured the essence of the city in his compositions, and tells an eloquent tale of a people who refuse to be intimidated and terrorized. His writing sets him apart from others whom the critics have over estimated. He writes what he feels and experiences, and in Suite for New york, he writes for a whole city.
First Invocation starts us out softly, and leads into a poem and musical collage that captures New York's spirit. Central Park has D.D. soloing first, and then getting great help from James Spaulding and David Mott. The entire CD feels like a journey through the city, climaxed by Towers of Light - you can taste the struggle and sense the relief that comes from surviving the worst. If you love music, don't deprive yourself of the best the Jazz world(or any other musical universe for that matter)has to offer. Once you hear what this young man has to say, you'll be hooked. No one in recent memory has had this combination of playing and compositional talents.

The title cover tries to do a good job explaining what it is we're supposed to be envisioning while listening to this mess. I especially like the condescending apologetics for track 11, The Final Invocation (Towers of Light): "...[It] is almost programmatic, and for anyone who was in close proximity to the World Trade Towers when they fell, or simply moved by 9/11, it is deeply affecting." Also, "...It really evokes for me the sense of souls ascending to the heavens." God, I hope not to be greeted by that racket shortly after dying!

Track 9, "Brooklyn Lullaby," by far bears the closest resemblence to a piece of jazz music. However, Mr. Jackson simply cannot let a single track get away without being rudely interrupted by at least five seconds of his dissonant blurting on the piano.

Perhaps I need to pop a few Xanax or Effexor in order to reach the hyper-emotional state that D. D. Jackson must have achieved while composing this "music."