Now I like Wayne Shorter's new stuff

After expressing mixed feelings about Wayne Shorter's new album, Without a Net, I've decided that I not only like it, I also like everything he's done since teaming up with Danilo Perez, John Patitucci and Brian Blade.

In this spirit, I have made plans to hear the quartet this summer in Chicago. No time like the present, and they'll never get any closer to Springfield.

I like the way Shorter integrates bits of lyricism, bombast and actual swing. He's one of the few players I'm hearing today who's trying to do something different that appeals to me. It's weird and unsettling that a dedicated jazz listener has to turn to a near-octogenarian for innovation.

I've always expected something new from jazz, even as I listened mostly to mainstream music. But I need to enjoy the innovations.

Different but dull: At this blog we've explored the disappointing "egghead" style of contemporary innovation. 

Same but exciting: Many great players are thriving in the mainstream. Tom Harrell has produced five albums with the same quintet with only small variations in concept; all are brilliant and more is better. Sonny Rollins, who's 82, seems to want to improve on his own mainstream work every time out. But I also want something different.

Different and exciting: I can't find much of that. I admire Rudresh Mahanthappa, but his continuous blowtorch approach is hard to take. I miss George Adams. He had a vocabulary on tenor that combined screeching Ayler-like leaps with Gospel and warm swing. At the very moment when his caterwauling became unpleasant, he pulled back into a groove.

I think Shorter is doing the same thing in a more expressionist way. Much of his playing is not about chops; it's about extremes of emotion ("Myrrh" on the new album is a succinct example of this). For me, this is a different and exciting approach. I like players with chops (see "same but exciting"), but I'm willing to give up chops in return for something new and appealing.

In contrast to Rollins, Shorter, 79, seems to feel that he has no obligation to verify his chops. If he wants to unleash an ear-splitting dissonant trill, he's going to do it, even though it does not require six-hour daily practice sessions to pull off. And just when your eardrums are about to rupture, he'll pull up and play a line from Mendelssohn.

Appreciating Wayne Shorter's intentionally confounding music

Wayne Shorter publicity photo from his website. Credit: Robert Ascroft

For more than a decade, saxophonist Wayne Shorter has led a quartet of Danilo Perez (piano), John Patitucci (bass) and Brian Blade (drums). This unit has always promised a lot of fiery interplay along with Shorter's singular virtuosity. The band has delivered on the interplay, but Shorter has been criticized for cryptic, hesitant playing in which he cuts off promising passages just as they seem to be gathering momentum.

Lots of barking has broken out among critics about the band's third album, "Without a Net," recently released after an eight-year recording gap. More than ever, detractors have attacked Shorter for his strange noodles and shouts. Others say he's now playing boldly and coherently — less wandering, more purpose.

Many tunes on the new album are simply blasé, but there are several I really like:

• "Pegasus," a chamber piece with the Imani Winds, somehow explains the blasé aesthetic and makes it much more enjoyable.
• "Orbits" captures the energy of the earlier years of the quartet.
• "Myrrh" begins quietly and ends with sustained screams from Shorter's soprano. The emotional intensity of this piece exceeds anything that current creative leaders in jazz — authors of deliberately ponderous and dreary sounds — would ever allow themselves to play.

I saw that Howard Mandel criticized Shorter for not taking control of his quartet with stronger playing. Such objections are useless. Maybe these mysterious detours and blind alleys are exercises derived from Buddhism, which Shorter practices. We aren't supposed to enjoy the music as conventional propulsive jazz with a 4-4 triplet pulse. The music is supposed to be occasionally or mostly confounding, with a breakthrough of enjoyment now and then. 

By the way, April is Jazz Appreciation Month, as declared by the Smithsonian Institution since 2002. This post and as many others as I can find time for this month are dedicated to appreciating jazz.