Thank God the Loops are BACK!
By Tom Chandler

At least, that’s what I’ve been reading. The public consensus. The word on the wind. The music critics as well as the fans. Well, at least the fans that I know. Bill Frisell’s new two disc live set features his most prolific recorded examples of looping since a long time ago, when he split with Kermit Driscoll and Joey Baron to explore the roots of American country and folk.

Okey, the implication here is that Frisell was on a long vacation and we’re all really happy he got back and turned back into a mad scientist instead of the gentle cowpoke he was for Halloween. But here’s the catch: it’s really not that big a deal. Don’t believe them, those people that tell you what to think. Listen only to me. I know what’s what.

Yes. Bill Frisell never really ditched the loops, but most of his recent work has featured groups where the looping did play a secondary role. And really only in a few places here does the looping come forefront to be more than color to the music.

What this set really represents is twofold. 1) Frisell as guitar hero. He plays the fuck outta the guitar, like you haven’t heard done in a while, by anybody. Both the trio setting and perhaps his current mood launch him into a fiercer more thorough guitaristic thing than the reserved tastefulness of late. That’s not to say that everything is squalling distortion (not that kind of guitar hero!), but more willingness to exploit technique. Oftentimes, I sit here thinking, “wow, this guy can really play!” 2) Frisell as jazz guitarist. With the exception of some detours with the Paul Motian group or some guest spots, Frisell hasn’t swung like this in I don’t know how long. Especially on the East disc, there’s some stuff (“Days of Wine and Roses”) that is pretty straight up jazz guitar in the tradition of Wes and Tal Farlow and all those old school guys. And it’s great. Totally natural. In fact, it took me a couple of listens to appreciate the nature of Frisell swinging.

In the accompanist department, there’s Victor Krauss and Kenny Wolleson on the West disc (recorded right here at Yoshi’s!) and Tony Scherr and Wolleson on the East disc, the jazzier one, ironically enough. As much as any group Frisell has ever had, these two (well, one and a half) rhythm sections gel and sychronize perfectly with him. In the liner notes, Frisell himself devotes much space to praising the intuitive improvisation of the Scherr/Wolleson lineup, but it seems to me that it’s true of both bass players.

Well, OK, let’s talk about the loops. They actually are pretty cool. At times throughout both of these discs, they get pretty front and center, appearing both as part of bigger songs and as discreet things on their own (“Interlude” or “You Can Run”) It’s never been any secret that Frisell is a master at this, and he really shows great subtlety and musicality here.

I think the best way to describe East/West is sort of a summation. You’ve got the plodding rhythms of “Blues for Los Angeles”, a staple of Frisell’s repertoire for a long time. You’ve got the two guitar country of “Crazy”. You’ve got the tender American/jazz mix of “Goodnight Irene”. And you’ve got the New Yorkier textures of “My Man’s Gone Now” and “Ron Carter”, which recall the Frisell of Zorn and Motian collaborations. It’s finally as if Frisell has taken all of his various phases and rolled them out in a mature statement that encompasses everything. Granted, nothing as thorny as Naked City shows up, but there’s plenty of edge here, like the end of “Tennessee Flat Top Box” where what starts out as country quickly disintegrates into squalling feedback and noise.

Naturally, since Frisell is so damn prolific, not every Frisell disc is going to be created equal. Which makes it nice that he does do different things from disc to disc. This one is not the same as Unspeakable, or Blue’s Dream, or even Gone Just Like a Train, although it has that trio tie-in. But as I’ve listened to East/West, I find myself drawn in again and again, and I easily rank it up there with his best work.