3 Compositions of New Jazz

1	(840m) -Realize-44m-44m 20:03
2	N-M488-44m-Z 12:57
3	The Bell 10:31

Barnes & Noble

"We're on the eve of the complete fall of Western ideas and life-values," states 22-year-old saxophonist Anthony Braxton in the liner notes of his still-startling 1968 debut. Well, not quite, but Chicago's AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians) was about to have an enormous influence on the jazz world. In a sense, the children of the "free jazz" movement, Braxton and the other AACM members here -- violinist {|Leroy Jenkins|}, trumpeter Leo Smith, and pianist Muhal Richard Abrams -- acknowledged their debt to Coltrane and Ornette Coleman, but were also quick to point to even more controversial influences, from James Brown to Stockhausen. With dozens of different sounds popping in and out, these three lengthy compositions, held together by fluent, firmly grounded musicianship, range over a seemingly unstructured sonic landscape that, in 1999, sounds familiar. We call it "post-modern," but in 1968 it was as modern as it could be. Lee Jeske

All Music Guide

While it is not as powerful or as revelatory as For Alto, Anthony Braxton's second album for Delmark, 3 Compositions of New Jazz is his debut as a leader and showcases just how visionary -- or out to lunch depending on your point of view -- he was from the very beginning. Recorded nine months after his debut with Muhal Richard Abrams on Levels and Degrees of Light, Braxton's compositional methodology and his sense of creating a band are in full flower. For one thing, there is no use of a traditional rhythm section, though drums and a piano are used. The band is comprised of Leroy Jenkins on violin and percussion, Braxton on everything from alto to accordion to mixer, Leo Smith on trumpet and bottles, and Abrams on piano (and alto clarinet on one track). All but one track -- "The Bell" -- are graphically titled, so there's no use mentioning titles because computers don't draw in the same way. There is a sonorous unity on all of these compositions, which Braxton would draw away from later. His use of Stockhausen is evident here, and he borrows heavily from the melodic precepts of Ornette Coleman. The use of Jenkins' violin as a melodic and lyric device frees the brass from following any kind of preset notion about what should be done. Abrams plays the piano like a percussion -- not a rhythm -- instrument, and colors the textural figures in, while Smith plays all around the open space trying hard not to fill it. This is a long and tough listen, but it's a light one in comparison to For Alto. And make no mistake: It is outrageously forward-thinking, if not -- arguably -- downright visionary. Braxton's 3 Compositions of New Jazz is an essential document of the beginning of the end. Thom Jurek