I saw this mentioned on Amazon and got it from my local library. It has been in pretty much constant play since then. I tend to need a while to get into a jazz album versus the time it takes to get into pop or rock, but Mehldau got me into this one almost immediately with a strong selection of songs that includes covers and standards as well as one composition of his own. I went in for “Paranoid Android”, one of his best tunes and came out of it having discovered Nick Drake and gone searching for some Gershwin.
The entire album is Mehldau alone with the piano. It is a pure piece. Listening to it, I can’t help but think that this is the way jazz should be. I love listening to the smooth production and big sound of The Pat Metheny Group and the crazed vitruosity of The Bad Plus, but there is something special about a musician alone with their acoustic instrument. I only wish that I had been in the audience for this performance.
The album opens and closes with Nick Drake. “Things Behind the Sun” pulled me into the disc with it’s opening lines that remind me almost of an NFL films soundtrack, the echoing chords backgrounding a hook that works. And then, after everything else, “River Man” finishes the album quietly but insistently with a tune that feels like a quiet walk through a forest in the snow.
In the middle of the these are the standards “Someone to Watch Over Me”, “From This Moment On”, and “How Long Has This Been Going On” which is the standout of the three. Each time I have played this with others around they have stopped me to ask what it is. “That’s beautiful,” they tell me. There’s something about the way he puts it together that is both playful and peaceful. The way he dances around the tune is all grace and elegance.
Along with these are covers of “Monk’s Dream” which is playful and lively and “Paranoid Android”, the centerpiece of the album. I’ve listened to two other versions of this song from Mehldau. The first was the album version from Largo (which is the album of his with which to begin), the second was a live-solo version I downloaded from the web. This third version is giant. It clocks in at 19:29 and begins so differently that I had to make sure I was on the right track for the first few listenings. But now, having listened to it more times than I can remember, nothing seems more right than the way he has put it together. From the moment he begins until the final note, I can hear the progression of what he is doing with the song. I can hear it coming in and out of the piece, the original tune weaving back and forth. And it sticks with me. It’s a close your eyes piece, shut out the lights, lock the door so you won’t be disturbed song. It’s a song that makes me want to buy better speakers and a more powerful amp, to remodel my room for better acoustics, and to quit my job so I can stay at home and listen. Barring all that, I drive with it in the cd player non-stop.
Go get Live in Tokyo. I’ll return my copy to the library soon if you want to borrow it. Well, maybe not that soon. This one might get me a late fee or two.
