Electric Masada Acid Test:
John Zorn’s Separate but Equal Jazz
The best jazz has always been about the blues. Over the course of the 20th century, this sprawling, multi-layered complex of musical expression has been based on a foundation of traditional African-American (and African) harmonics, rhythms and feelings. African-American musicians who work in the idiom of jazz are therefore playing on their cultural home field. Others can and have made contributions, and while the music that results is not always inferior per se, it must always be judged in relationship to the core African-American tradition rather than as part of it.
Various efforts to reconcile jazz techniques with European art music over the course of the 20th century were often unsatisfying. Whether instigated by African-American or white musicians, there was a certain uneasiness between the informal, conversational style of jazz and the self-consciousness of whatever it was being “fused” with. The only really successful hybridizations of jazz have been with other folk styles: Latin, Gypsy folk music (such as the work of the great guitarist Django Reinhardt) and, in an oblique way, Appalachian music (as in Western swing). Of these, only Latin Jazz has produced an important independent tradition, and the success here might be because of the shared African roots.
Enter John Zorn. Early in his career, the Jewish saxophonist was clearly uneasy with his outsider’s relationship to the African-American blues-jazz tradition. His first efforts were spectacular if sterile excursions into the avant-garde, often turning on cleverly-conceived innovations in musical theory. He promoted a new approach to improvisation through an elaborate game called Cobra, and sought to root his music in various non-blues forms such as film music. The results were often more “interesting” than satisfying, but in the course of his explorations, he developed an incredible virtuosity both as a player and as a band leader.
Sometime in the early 90s, Zorn hit upon the vehicle that allowed him to express his most complex and imaginative musical ambitions within a framework that was as comfortable to him as the blues tradition is to African-American players: the traditional folk music of European Jewry. The power of this breakthrough was staggering. His new combo, Masada (named for the stronghold of a band of die-hard Israelite nationalists fighting Rome in the 1st century), produced a music that was exciting, adventurous, historically-resonant, and capable of supporting the complex musical superstructure of jazz technique as readily as the blues. Zorn and his (mostly Jewish) colleagues were finally able to infuse their theories with the hot blood of an authentic cultural experience in which they were fully immersed, creating a music as electrifying in its own way as the early bebop of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie or the mid-60s free jazz of John Coltrane and (Zorn influence) Ornette Coleman.
In lesser hands, the core idea behind Masada could quickly degenerate into a novelty or cliché. But Zorn is possessed of an almost superhuman commitment to his music and a rare burning genius for invention and innovation. Masada relentlessly explored the avenues made available by this new approach in an ongoing series of recordings released according to the sequence of the Hebrew alphabet. While it took 40 years for African-American jazz to get from Louis Armstrong to Cecil Taylor (or James Brown, if you prefer), Zorn collapsed the evolution of his new genre into less than a decade.
Last night in Seattle, he performed with his new Electric Masada septet featuring Kenny Wolleson (drums), Cyro Baptista (percussion), Trevor Dunn (electric bass), John Medeski and Jamie Saft (keys), and Marc Ribot (guitar). Performing with amplified instruments is of course nothing new to Zorn, but the makeup of this particular combo with the two keyboards, percussion and electric guitars allows the new Masada to create the same kinds of musical textures that Miles Davis achieved with his late-60s, early-70s group that produced the landmark album Bitches Brew, in marked contrast to the more traditional acoustic approach that Masada had employed in the past.
The critical mass of talent under Zorn’s iron-fisted leadership exploded in a fireball of musical fury. Zorn’s compositions, frequently rooted in the minor key harmonics of his traditional source material, provided a wide-ranging palette of melodies, tempos, dynamics as well as a solid foundation for the most far-reaching improvisations. Zorn appeared to incorporate a few of his Cobra techniques to direct the soloists and shape the performances like a magician conjuring with powerful mystical forces. He allowed each of his virtuousos plenty of room to embroider, featuring his own formidable skills on the alto sax only occasionally and to staggering effect. The interplay of the group onstage was utterly spontaneous and produced a string of exciting moments. Every passage seemed to be a tour-de-force. At times, the group thundered along as if trying to lift themselves and everyone in the audience into space by achieving some kind of musical escape velocity. It was beyond belief.
If last night’s performance is any indication, Electric Masada seems ready to write a new chapter in musical history. The quixotic, cerebral, often intentionally difficult Zorn has found the alchemical formula for marrying his undeniable musical genius to a rich tradition of which he is fundamentally, organically a part. By ambition, talent and sheer will, Zorn has created a place for an authentic, non-blues-based music in the hallowed pantheon of American jazz. Mazel tov!
10:13:24 AM 
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