DNA

Product description

CD and booklet are in like new condition. The case has 3 faint scratches.

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After 14 discs in less than a decade, pianist Matthew Shipp has announced a midcareer “retirement”, claiming his “opus is complete.” For fans of Shipp’s dense, angular piano impressionism,
DNA signals an artistic halt from
the pianist of the avant-garde. For his swan song, Shipp has chosen to record with his longtime collaborator, bassist , whose sympathetic playing has graced a number of Shipp’s projects. On
DNA Shipp vaults into the fray with an odd, strident rendition of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” While Shipp plays the tune fairly straight, Parker saws away like mad, adding to the tune’s schizophrenic feel. Even amid the most bombastic low-end fist-clusters, Shipp’s playing has always maintained a rough undercurrent of the blues (seen here on “Cell Structure,” and “Orbit”) while also displaying a deep understanding of post-Schönberg classical piano. But aside from this deeply rooted and wide-ranging improvisational ingenuity, much of the joy in experiencing Shipp is (was?) the visceral pleasure of bearing witness to his string-busting intensity. Shipp loves to bang around on the deep, rumbly end of the piano (“Orbit” is played entirely with thundering exclamations), and he plays with astonishing force, sculpting a sonic landscape that’s both sturdy and writ large. But instead of producing a thick, cumbersome musical flow,
DNA excels at illustrating Shipp’s lightning-quick thought process and the surprising agility and precision of his note pounding. All of these special talents converge on
DNA, allowing brief lightning flashes of insight into Shipp’s musical world that are equal parts revelation and astonishment.
DNA closes as oddly as it starts, with Shipp playing a somber, straight version of “Amazing Grace.” This time, Parker bows a reverent, swaying bass line, signaling, perhaps, the knowledge of what Shipp has helped continue, and also what he is putting aside.
–S. Duda

Review

When the secret history of jazz in the 1990s is finally written, DNA will be revealed as a milestone: a work of exceptional refinement in which two of the decade’s most subversive sonic architects gather their resources to take things to the next stage. Trouble is, that kind of high-falutin’ description makes this album – pianist Shipp’s 15th as a leader since 1990 – sound more imposing than it is. The charms of DNA, which Shipp insists marks an official sabatical from the recording studio, are often quite subtle, inscribed in the breathlessly fluid microdynamics of two marvelously sympathetic performers.
Some at this spring’s Vision festival had to stifle a laugh when Shipp began to pound out the chords to the album’s opener, “When Johnny Comes Marching Home.” But there was also the thrill of recognition: It’s the closest this reflexive iconoclast has ever come to acquiring a “hit single” for his repertoire. And it’s not corny for long: as the pianist reaches deep into the tune’s harmonic guts to find a stirring gothic grandeur, Parker’s buzzing bow-work answering the “straight” readings of the chorus like crickets singing in the swampy Southern night. With that perversely audacious start, DNA slips into a suite-like exploration whose pleasures are as much derived from Shipp’s spidery light touch and subtle blues connotations (“Cell Sequence”) as from the rhythmic thrust with which Parker lifts off into hyperspace. Parker buoys the circular, minimal motifs Shipp conjures on “Orbit” and “Mr. Chromosome,” the duo’s intense, steady focus helping to create a parallel universe where Mal Waldron and Morton Feldman could be funk soul brothers. “Amazing Grace,” offered as benediction, is played without heroics: Its spare dignity implies a moment of humble reflection made by a pilgrim at the close of a long, rugged journey.
— Steve Dollar, JAZZIZ Magazine Copyright © 2000, Milor Entertainment, Inc. — From Jazziz