Janek Gwizdala ought to be a familiar household name, known to all good music-loving households. If it’s not for you, get your priorities right and go look him up now! Particularly for bass players growing up among the music scene(s) now, his name is to be revered, and his music studied with as much intensity as that of Jaco or (more contemporaneously) Wooten. If you’re needing justification for this claim, then his 2007 album Live at the 55bar will provide you with an ample amount.
I was introduced to this album through a university housemate whose extensive collection of records, and knowledge of trivia for music not often found on the beaten track, makes my own attempt at record acquisition look feeble. That’s if you even consider 10 vinyls and a couple of CDs a collection. My friend probably wouldn’t, and I’m reluctantly inclined to agree; I am regrettably reliant on streaming platforms. Fortunately for me – and now you – my housemate has good taste (for the most part). Live at the 55bar quickly became one of my favourite live albums and a contender for my favourite all-time record. It also got me hip to Gwizdala – a player, composer and collaborator I greatly admire. Not least for his ability to take the back seat to horn players and soloists. Gwizdala isn’t shy to showcase his chops – and boy, does he have chops – when the time is right but his comfortability with sitting back and supporting his fellow musicians is something that we can all take note of.
Tunes like Mana are a great example of this, with a pocketed groove laying the foundations for the head and humble yet explorative harmonies supporting the solos. The structures of each of the tunes in this album, especially Mana, further allow for interesting and emotive improvisations that are expertly supplied by British brothers Elliot and Brad Mason on the trombone and trumpet (respectively), as well as Justin Vasquez on the alto sax, Oli Rockberger on the keys, Tobias Ralph on the kit, and Tim Miller on the guitar. Each of these musicians get a number of chances to demonstrate their masterful musicality across the album – a testament to the live nature of the tracks. The dynamic character of Gwizdala’s compositions like Aphelion, Mana and Culture, with their uplifting third (C) sections and energy transforming vamps are great canvases for all of these musicians to paint on too.
If you came to hear detailed solo bass playing and are now worried that you have arrived at the wrong place, don’t be. Track 5 – Alibea – has you covered with a mellow solo head from the bass and an improvised solo that’ll have you in tears – something I’ve come to expect from Gwizdala’s music. He doesn’t sacrifice feel and emotion for intellectuality in his playing, proving that the two can and should co-exist.
The whole record was made over two nights at the, now closed-down, 55bar in NYC. I have to say it’s one the best sounding live albums I’ve heard, captured seemingly through a two-microphone setup in the small-medium sized basement bar. It captures the audience at times yet gets all the detail you need from the band, much like Jon Lampley’s Night Service that I reviewed late last year. You can hear Gwizdala’s vocalisations in Culture and Alibea, yet the bass itself almost sounds DI’d at points – warm at times and punchy when it calls for it. It’s an all round spectacular album and a testament to a place that played host to some of the world’s finest jazz musicians. Hopefully he’ll head down our way to Newcastle at some point and record a Live at the Black Swan or Live at Cobalt. Until then, we’ll happily wait listening to Live at the 55bar.
Waxing Lyrical 