Lawn Chair Society

 Widely acclaimed for his trio recordings with Ari Hoenig and Johannes Weidenmueller, Werner is no stranger to larger ensembles—note in particular his 2006 recording, Democracy (High Note), featuring 3-horn sextet and his big band release with the Brussels Jazz Orchestra (Naked in the Cosmos, 2003). And he has never shied away from experimentation, most notably on the unplanned, freely improvised Unprotected Music with Marc Johnson and Joey Barron (Doubletime,1998). Lawn Chair Society, however, marks Werner’s first foray into electronica, a bold move for his Blue Note debut. “I knew I didn’t want to make a record that was purely acoustic or purely electronic,” notes Werner. “I wanted to blur the lines and create something a little bit surreal.” Wisely, he brings veterans of 21^st century surreal explorations, Dave Douglas and Chris Potter, along for the ride, as well as his cohorts from Democracy, bassist Scott Colley and drummer Brian Blade. Werner penned seven tracks (only “Uncovered Heart” has appeared previously); producer Lenny Pickett provides two short electronic interludes (one co-written with Werner); the closing “Kothbiro” from West African folk master Ayub Odaga, may be familiar from the closing of the soundtrack of The Constant Gardener.

Kenny Werner © Andrea Canter

Fans of Werner’s straight acoustic chamber jazz—count me among them—will find many of the same elements present here, particularly Werner’s elegant touch, lyrical melodies, moving harmonies. Similarly, those seeking more edge, more dissonance, more polyphonic clash will find much to chew on as Werner unleashes his creative juices with laptop and electric keyboard in rotation—or in tandem—with the acoustic piano. Lawn Chair Society is a playground for these musicians, a field of sonic dreams, a test site for sound and spirit. While some tunes were born of political commentary, others reflect the darkness—and hope—surrounding Werner in the days following the death of his daughter last fall.

The set opens with Werner’s “Lo’s Garden,” funky tenor lines mingling with gurgling electronics and (apparently) acoustic piano figures that develop over Blade’s fits of stops and starts on percussion. Werner unleashes a series of rippling cascades from a grounded keyboard while Potter switches to bass clarinet. The motifs repeat, an electronic string section moves in and out like a digital tide. This garden is growing, not yet fully formed. Electronic, acoustic and human tones start off “New Amsterdam,” the rhythm section giving Werner’s composition a distinctive urban edge. Blade and Colley are especially effective in creating the sense of metro madness, and the horns add to the frenzied, gridlock feel—like an Americanized “Caravan.” Douglas solos with delightful squeals and honks over the quirky rhythm, still maintaining his solid tone. With Blade’s clanging arsenal increasingly assertive, Potter takes a darker turn, his sax curling and uncoiling like a slinky until the two horns finally merge into the same lane.

Dave Douglas © Andrea Canter

But there’s no mistaking the influence of the digital age on the two short compositions from Lenny Pickett. Even the titles evoke cyberspeak. “Burble_burble_splerk” features oddball tones from Douglas while the electronic/computer voice takes it to another planet. Burble burble splerk indeed! Only 2 ½ minutes, this track is long enough to give both musicians and listerners a good smile without getting annoying or aimless. In collaboration with Werner, Pickett also contributes “West_Coast_Variant”, this time with a Caribbean pulse infused with intergalactic humor and sound effects. In particular, it’s playtime for bass and percussion, while Potter creates an eerie conversational voice. Blade’s menagerie of sound is often indistinguishable from computer enhancements—a video component would be a great addition to this track! “Absolutely no regard for boundaries, “ explains Werner, “anything can morph into anything else.”

“Uncovered Heart” was the title track to one of Werner’s earlier recordings, and significantly was composed the day his daughter was born; the decision to include it on this recording was made before her death. A bass ostinato introduces a solemn piano theme, adding a touch of calypso against some faint computer-generated strings. (Does this make it a duo or trio passage?) Here Colley stands out as the soloist, and improviser, as much as Werner. Blade’s cymbals kick in at about the four-minute mark, while Werner’s lines become more complex—here more reminiscent of his earlier trio work. The horns sit out until the last minute or so, coming in together to create a more majestic final chorus.

Chris Potter © Andrea Canter

The title track serves as a metaphor for “American culture that is living in its own unreal world… unaware of the desolation and darkness that half the world is experiencing,” explains Werner. A mélange of digital wizardry, “Lawn Chair Society” features a delicious simmering of keys, horn growls and eerie slides from Douglas. Werner adds some lyrical passage on piano, again with magnificent support from Colley. Producer Pickett adds more color with wood flute, and the track ends with vocal fragments, as if snatches of conversation from a news broadcast. Of “Loss,” Werner notes that “I wanted one really sweet piece that was electronically done.” Another short track at 2 ½ minutes, Werner summons the electronics from all angles, a dark and brooding composition to which Douglas adds a buzzy horn.

The closing West African folk composition from Ayub Odaga, “Kothbrio” (“It’s Going to Rain”) is very elegant in its simplicity, starting with a distant thunder and electronic orchestration that sounds a haunting alert. It feels like the background music for a dark passage of a film, and indeed this music is featured on the closing credits of The Constant Gardener. Although only the bass is listed, the sound seems to come from an ancient instrument, if not in reality, then in Werner’s electronic invention. Both Douglas and Potter echo a muted tone, weaving in and out with the piano, a lovely closing with a touch of melancholy. The devices might be feats of engineering, the melody from another culture, but the lyricism is pure Werner.

The use of electronic enhancement is becoming so commonplace that it hardly defines a musician or ensemble. Kenny Werner and cohorts on Lawn Chair Society use their artful musicianship and collective imagination to give these strategies new definition.

For more information about Kenny Werner, visit www.kennywerner.com