Triio - Six-ish Plateaus

​Triio

Six-ish Plateaus
​self-released; 2022

4.0 out of 5

​By Michael E. Vincent​

Alex Fournier boasts enough musical accolades to choke a small horse. As the double bassist and composition master for modern jazz outfit Triio (which happens to be a sextet and, ironically, was never a three-person group), his curriculum vitae is a who’s-who of Canadian awesomeness. Workshops, studies and performances are heavily denoted. So what if he’s using math jokes to woo us here? With this kind of extreme belt notching, it’s a miracle that Fournier can hold his own pants up. And yet, since he likely recorded Six-ish Plateaus – the unit’s second album – while appropriately clothed, the real theater of the mind comes in the interpretation thereof.

Namely, the record’s five tracks stress a “cinematic” feel, juxtaposing musical theory (in its written essence) against the je ne sais quoi of collective improvisation. Either that, or it’s 43 minutes of deeply niched jazz for a post-bee bop world. Whatever your view, the artist scores points for playing fast and loose with the genre without slipping into a self-aggrandized aural onanism. There are plenty of yachts (or Steely Dan albums) on which to seek out the latter.

Triio measures their output in “musical densities.” Groove-heavy polyrhythms explore odd meters amid varying levels of accessibility (or tolerability). In other words, this is heavy baggage. And it embodies the monikers of jazz metal or doom jazz that are so dutifully bestowed upon the work. Permed songbirds need not apply. Nor should they, given how “An Intrepid Toad,” the opener, trades smoothness for volatility. To wit, the tune channels the percolations of a lottery ball machine. When melded with a velour undercurrent, its brass section keeps laissez-faire composure against caffeinated tempos (and occasionally crisp guitar noodling). Cymbal crashes prove a welcome adjunct to the piece. Particularly as they ape the delight of an infantile hoodlum behind a drum kit; the perfect joke for those unschooled in atonality. This is music with which to stumble over boulders, a martini slosh of exuberance that plays impishly with the norms of structure.

The title track, “Six-ish Plateaus,” is driven by an ice cool bass line. Sure, it could be thicker, but that would only kill its lo-fi charm. Detached yet focused, a fluttering of horns ricochet about one’s skull until the entire mix lands, quite capriciously, into a lustful thicket; the winking eye of God scored amidst idiophonic release. “Addenda/Agenda” maintains this xylophone-driven groove over tight drums. The stress of the number is grave, noting the degree to which sparring melodies parse any acid from the base (or, in Johnson’s case, the double bass).

Downshifting gears, “Tragic Leisure” mimics a face-down float along some lazy river. Gone is the excitement of earlier cuts, replaced with a meandering slink. At best, the song parades a kind of circular logic, an eternal confusion of head versus tail. At worst, it’s a musical allegory for some ghastly human centipede. By the final offering, “Saltlick City,” a deconstructed James Bond theme vaults with flourish: old fashioneds in lieu of martinis (and certainly not the tequila implied from its title). Then again, given the risky abstraction elected to close the tune, it’s anyone’s guess what we’ve spilled in our ears.

​Despite making mischief in jazz, Triio is hardly crafting elevator anthems. At least not those suited for vertical passage. And that’s both the joy and the challenge of Six-ish Plateaus. Think of it as prearranged chaos as conceived on staff paper. And clear your head before choosing a floor. The route may be circuitous, but the journey is worth the bewilderment.

official website

Tweet