Imbued with an almost fetish respect for the work of sophisticated film score composers, Alain Goraguer and Michel Legrand, Greg Foat looks back to the past to construct an imagined, romanticised future jazz soundtrack of his own. With its leitmotif 60s pulp sci-fi novelistic, Dark Is The Sun title, and collage cover nod to the prophetic “how we will one day live in movable cities” visionary architecture journals; this arching incipient recording oozes a certain atavistic confidence and class.
Led by the Jazz pianist Foat, each of the ten-tracks loosly follow a purview arrayed theme; all underpinned by a tight Lalo Schifin driving backing band of talented musicians – Tony Coote on drums is especially handy and explosive – who allow our keyboard soloist to extract some efficacious layers of erudite playful jamming and moody soulfulness.
Opening with the charged Roy Budd-esque, ‘Time Piece 1′, our trio hold out on us with a stark harpsichord intro and stretching, sighing double-bass, before smoothly launching into a tense funk-fried backbeat rush through the streets of a San Francisco, grizzled cop drama, heightened with choral swells – a swooning Scandinavian choir lends its voice throughout. The reoccurring signature title track itself, is cut-up into four sections, each varying from the original compositions main theme, or riffing off of an untapped strand. ‘Part 1′ is redolent of ‘The Virgin Suicides’ era Air, and includes a parochial journey of backhand scale runs and warbling hammond. ‘Part 2′ meanwhile zips and zaps over a broody dramatic timpani rumble, searching the cosmos. Other excursions include the jazz-swamp-boogie curio, ‘Yeah You Are’, and the Serge Gainsbourg accordion led, stirring distraction, ‘Part 3′.
Recorded mostly in Sweden’s Gothenburg; a city and country both renowned for its avid appreciation of Jazz, and for producing its very own contributions to the genre; ‘Dark Is The Sun’ is a beguiling prospect with one astronautic foot already firmly planted amongst the Francophone cool cat musicians of the past, another stepping into the animated tomorrow of ‘La Planete Sauvage’. This slow burning debut – released on Jazzman – is a recondite filmic suite from the outer regions of electric jazz.
Due: Out Now
[Rating:4]
