Courtney Pine - Underground

Courtney Pine Underground
1997 Antilles

Antilles just has a great history of underappreciated acts: Dizrhythmia, Anthony Cox, etc. Add Courtney Pine to the list. The sax player has been a U.K. secret bigger than life, and has pretty much been confounding critics and listeners for some time. A player with broad interests musically, he also has an ample arsenal of chops across the sax family as well as reeds and keyboards, which he uses to ample effect on Underground.

There have been jazz and electronica/hip-hop hybrids going on since the late 80s. Many have been forgettable (the waste of Branford Marsalis's talent on the two Buckshot LeFonque releases comes to mind, as well as the style boner 3-D Lifestyles by Greg Osby)*, half-baked (the final studio release by Miles Davis), and a few that skirt brilliance (work by Erik Truffaz, Tim Hagans, Herbie Hancock, and various acts on the Acid-Jazz, Talkin' Loud and Giant Step labels).

This album is none of those. Not quite brilliant, it is nowhere near the lame portion of the range. If anything, Pine gets the formula right; lean on the jazz, and use the electronica as a way to expand form and texture, rather than to just straightjacket improvisational tendencies into a narrow sonic tunnel with some scratching and a breakbeat. Where he falters is that the mix of the two worlds is not fully developed and still feels a little too segregated in spots, usually on the instrumental tracks. This may be since none of the players save DJ Pogo have any real presence outside of the post-bop canon: Cyrus Chestnut, Reginald Veal and Jeff "Tain" Watts. Of course, this is not a bad thing, since this leans on the side where these men shine, especially Watts, who never fails at any gig. This is largely a jazz album, with undercurrents of turntablism. And that is ok.

And with that, Mr. Pine. He plays the hell out of everything. Soprano can get too close to the smooth jazz style that makes me sad at times, but he generally avoids that, and he goes the extra mile on tenor. The bonus for me is the bass clarinet, which always wirks, and which he uses in a few places here. Bass clarinet is like Fender Rhodes...even when it's lousy it's still good. So forgiving, and always so tonally beautiful. There is some Rhodes on this album as well, so yes, there is another tick in the plus column.

So basically, if you are someone who wants a light touch of turntable science with your shuffle beat, this is a good place to start.

P.S. The two vocal tracks (sung by the inimitable and beautiful honey-toned voice of Jhelisa) have a breezy, almost lounge feel, with loping piano vamps and meandering soprano sax lines. I recommend looking into her two solo albums, Galactica Rush and Language Electric, if you can find them.

* It is thankfully, the only bad album in Osby's catalog, which I otherwise endorse with vigor.