James Blood Ulmer removes his name from the cover of this reunion of his Odyssey trio, and for good reason. As the rather awkward group name indicates, this is more of a band album than a solo project, especially with Ulmer's longtime associate Charles Burnham's searing violin playing such a prominent role in the sound. Only the third appearance of this ensemble on album, and the threesome's sole release since 1998's Reunion concert disc, the collective's synergy remains amazingly sharp. Burnham's violin, Warren Benbow's propulsive, in-the-pocket yet often skeletal drums, and Ulmer's throaty vocals and harmolodic guitar lines tug and tumble with each other. Musically this falls on the bluesy side of jazz, not surprising in that Ulmer has spent the majority of his time since 1998 filtering the blues through his own distinctive vision. The album's instrumentals such as the winding "Water Tree" and the ominous "Love Nest" comprise about half of the playing time, and give Ulmer's non-vocal contributions equal footing with the other players. The MIA bass parts aren't missed due in part to Ulmer's innovative playing and the band's sheer intensity. Recorded live in the studio during a three-day stint in May 2005, the disc crackles because of the largely improv approach of the pieces. Each track supports its own groove, and the interaction of all three players with nobody hogging the spotlight shows the collaborative nature of this project. A slight world beat infuses these tracks, due in part to Ulmer and Burnham's distinctive, atypical approach to their instruments. The brooding atmosphere is heightened by Ulmer's husky, quivering vocals, especially effective on the cautionary "Let's Get Married" (definitely not the Al Green song). Listeners who appreciate the guitarist/vocalist's forays into the blues will find this to be down a similar dark alley, and those who come to this album through Ulmer's more dissonant jazz work will also find lots to enjoy in Back in Time's timeless and riveting music. ~ Hal Horowitz, All Music Guide
Since the end of the last decade, James Blood Ulmer has been involved in a conscious investigation of the blues as a force for reinvention. On various labels and with a varying group of musicians, Blood has fused, melded, and strained the genre through everything from funk to psychedelic rock and jazz with mixed but always provocative results. Guitarist and producer Vernon Reid has been a constant on Ulmer's last two offerings: 2001's Memphis Blood: The Sun Sessions and 2003's No Escape from the Blues: The Electric Ladyland Sessions. The quest continues on Birthright, and in some senses the stakes are even higher because this is a completely solo recording. Reid produces but doesn't perform. Ulmer is the only musician on the entire record. He plays guitars and flute, and he sings. Stripped to the bone, swampy, spooky, and sexy, Birthright is alternately jagged and flowing; it goes into the heart of the blues as Blood experiences it. Ten of the 12 tunes here are originals, either written in or transformed for the idiom. The set opens with "Take Me Back to the Church," and the familiar, dark, haunting harmolodic drone ushers in an entirely new take on the Delta pedigree. Going into the heart of music's origins -- the church -- he splits it wide open. He utterly revises "Where Did All the Girls Come From," a track originally performed on Free Lancing. His staccato multi-string lead playing offers chunky, riff-like figures as the vocals dig into the spaces between them. The rhythmic intensity is hypnotic. This doesn't mean he can't play it straight, as the strolling "I Can't Take It Anymore" attests. It uses the I-IV-V progression throughout, with embellishments only as one line bleeds into the next. On Willie Dixon's "I Ain't Superstitious," he brings the eerie, haunting atmosphere back into the tune. No rave-up workout, Blood's relaxed delivery allows his snaky, warm guitar to weave its spell on the listener as his voice hovers just outside the beat, zeroing in on the complex paradox at the heart of the song's lyric. Following a few tracks in, "The Evil One" is the Dixon song's twin, with its foreboding message, footboard rhythmic attack, and low-string dronescape. The folk song storytelling blues of "Geechee Joe" evokes the spirit of Leadbelly with its meandering, poignant tale. In Blood's hands, "Sittin' on Top of the World" isn't so much a raucous party tune that celebrates the disappearance of a lover; it's a slow, labyrinthine tune of acceptance and discovery. The guitar acts as the singer's foil, pushing forward, pulling back, and ultimately underscoring the truth as it is revealed in the grain of the protagonist's voice. Birthright is the album Ulmer should have made years ago. All that matters is that listeners have it now. It's a shining star in his catalog and a chillingly intimate portrait of his expansive vision and singular talent. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What a glorious mess this album is. No Escape From the Blues assembles the same team that issued the brilliant and soulful Memphis Blood for a second chapter, assembling in the legendary Electric Lady Studios in New York. In making their second stop on the legendary studio tour -- Memphis Blood was recorded at Sun -- Ulmer and company move through a program of blues standards and originals that come off as mysterious and oddly organic considering the numerous textures and sounds in the home of Hendrixian adventure. The band includes Vernon Reid (who act as co-lead guitarist and producer), Odyssey violinist Charles Burnham, pianist and keyboard whiz Leon Gruenbaum, harmonica player David Barnes, and the rhythm section of Mark Peterson and Aubrey Dayle, as well as guests like Olu Dara, vocalist Queen Esther, tap dancer Maya Smullyan Jenkins, and John Kruth. Opening with a laid-back country rag blues tune like Mary Lee Reed's "Goin' to New York" with Reid on banjo already makes the listener look twice, but to follow it with Eddy H. Owens' Chicago-style piano stride blues "The Hustle Is On" done in T-Bone Walker fashion is even more bizarre -- especially with Reid's screaming electric guitar solo in the break -- is a freak out. Surprises like this keep the entire album experience off-kilter for the listener. Arrangements are unique and mix and match from the many blues subgenres, from juke joint to jump. Burnham's wah-wah violin on "Who's Been Talkin'" keeps the deep-talking blues from sounding maudlin or comical. The read of Johnny Copeland's "Ghetto Child," with Ulmer's guitar and Gruenbaum's spooky keyboards, echoes the Animals version of "House of the Rising Sun," and Burnham makes the ghost factor rise by ten. The nearly acoustic Delta blues take of "Are You Glad to Be in America" is one of the more startling versions of the song Ulmer has recorded. The most rollicking track on the set has to be Earl King's "Come On (Let the Good Times Roll)," which evokes both King's intention and Jimi Hendrix's spirit in Reid's guitar playing twinned with Burnham's wah-wah rave up. Interestingly, these loose, party blues that goes way over the acid rock top is a beautiful tribute to King, to whose memory the album is dedicated. The gorgeous version of Muddy Waters' "No Escape From the Blues," and the haunted, lonely version of "Trouble in Mind" (complete with fills by Reid on electric sitar and Gruenbaum on Fender Rhodes piano) set up for a killer finish, with a barrelhouse read of "The Blues Had a Baby and Called It Rock N Roll." No Escape From the Blues features Ulmer in a unique role, that of the blues singer and shouter. Never has he sounded so expressive, emotionally compelling, or convincing vocally; and his guitar playing, while less present here than on his other recordings, is still there, snaking its way through this weird yet wonderful set. Highly recommended. This recording is indeed "future blues." ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Over three days in April 2001, James "Blood" Ulmer and producer/guitarist Vernon Reid (yes, of Living Colour fame) went into the legendary Sun Studios in Memphis and kicked out some of the greasiest, knottiest, most surreal blues music ever. The blues have always been part of Ulmer's iconography, even when deeply entrenched in the harmolodic theory he helped to develop with Ornette Coleman. Over the years on his albums for DIW, Ulmer has with mixed results attempted to dig into the blues wholesale, but until now, with the aid of Vernon Reid and a cast of stellar if not well-known musicians, Blood hasn't been able to indulge his obsession to the hilt. All 14 songs on Memphis Blood are covers, many of them blues classics from the canon, with a few from Ulmer's own shrine book. The set opens with Willie Dixon's "Spoonful." There's a trace about 12 notes coming from the harmolodic E to the fore before Reid and Ulmer kick it in with harmonica player David Barnes, whose blowing in this album is so meaty, tough, and oily that he must have learned how to play in a Memphis rib joint. Also getting down into the pit of the blue-black mass is Ulmer's running partner, violinist Charles Burnham, who puts a wah-wah on his axe in "Little Red Rooster." Burnham reveals that there is more than swing to blues violin chops; he could have taught Sugarcane Harris or Papa John Creach plenty. Burnham's sense of dynamic and timing is phenomenal, as he underlines each line of Ulmer's lyric with a phrase that moans and snakes as the singer wails. On Otis Rush's "Double Trouble," Reid gets his turn to shine, and he does explosively, but in the vernacular. He doesn't give us his standard thousand-note run, but instead blistering attacks on the minor-key side of the tune; he's all edges and cutting, spitting notes and fury. As for Ulmer, he's never sounded more at home in his role as singer and guitarist, funking it up just enough with those edgy chords and strangled, single-note runs. He allows Reid to run the musical proceedings and settles in to front the band. The music, as a result, is fiery, loose, and full of drunkenly spirited, explosive delight. It's a careening, side-railed music that tells a story only insofar as these cats are all imagining their own stories while playing in this studio, which has housed every great they play tunes by. As tired as the blues genre is, Memphis Blood is a fresh injection of blues truth; this is Saturday night drink, dance, and sex music. This is the music to do stuff by that you're gonna have to repent for on Sunday morning without pose, primp, or preen. If any man or woman doubts that this is the blues album of 2001, let her or him listen no further than John Lee Hooker's "Dimples," and then shake 'em on down. Ulmer delivers here, big time. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
For almost a decade, guitarist James Blood Ulmer has been courting the blues as a deeper shade of black with his trademark harmolodic jazz-funk expressionism. In addition, Ulmer's music has come to rely increasingly as much on riffing as it does on improvisation. The results have been mixed; Ulmer is his own worst enemy by not knowing what to leave off a record. It's true he's been on a roll, Harmolodic Guitar With Strings, Forbidden Blues, Odyssey, and Reunion were solid. However, his Third Rail experiment with Bill Laswell and Bernie Worrell was less so, another mixed bag with filled with excess. Blood hasn't issued a new recording in three years, which registers excitement and trepidation for fans. With a lineup that includes Laswell, Bernie Worrell, Amina Claudine Myers, and Jerome "Bigfoot" Bailey, the potential is certainly here. Overall, there is a deep nighttime feeling to this disc; there are few tracks featuring the fire-spitting, wood-splintering knot-like runs that come flailing off the strings and melt the brain of the listener. This is a riff- and song-oriented recording (yes, there are vocals) that accent the blues and gospel side of Ulmer's playing (anyone remember his playing on John Patton's Accent on the Blues way back when?) that is anything but "straight." The opener "O Gentle One" sounds like Muddy Waters could have written it had he been born in the 1940s instead of the early part of the century; the instrumental "As It Is" is a fret workout that has Ulmer digging deep into his wah-wah effects and pulling up a guitar-charged frenzy underscored by Laswell's steady, slithery (if unimaginative) bassline and Worrell's in the pocket keyboard funk. Myers and Worrell bring jazz/funk into the blues realm with "Pull on Up to Love" -- which should be issued to DJs for remixing. There's even a lounge-jazz track that is so blue its smoky black, with Ulmer strolling through territory more familiar to Eddie Hazel's ballad style than his own. "I Can Tell" is worthy of Odyssey's open float and drone; it's a bluesy ballad that drifts into the Memphis soul realm enough to make a true anomaly. The closer is a down and dirty funk-jazz tune called "Home Alone," an instrumental that addresses the harmolodic ideology of contrapuntal melody. Underneath a wah-wahed bass, Worrell's organ, and Myers' synths, Ulmer shifts and grooves, striking notes against the rhythm and bringing them back out into the riff. With its anthemic feel, it's a great way to end a record. There are one or two misses here, but they're no big deal compared to the wealth of good stuff here. Welcome back Blood, we missed ya. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Since the late 1970s, James Blood Ulmer has defined himself as a musical chameleon with a singular sound. His many ensembles range from blues/funk trios to chamber jazz quartets to free jazz sextets to harmolodic funk and soul groups. The band he assembled for Forbidden Blues in 1996 was his standard blues with Amin Ali on electric bass and Calvin Weston on drums, and augmented on certain cuts with longtime collaborator Charles Burnham on violin, Calvin Jones playing acoustic bass, Michael Musutafa on keyboards, and vocalist Dana Manno on one cut. Blood, of course, played guitar, sang in a few spots, and even played flute on one track. Like the 2001 issue, Blue Blood, this is a mixed bag musically: there are free harmolodic workouts in spaces, but these are few. What Ulmer seems to be using this band for is to play jazz songs. They are somewhat mood driven, late night, post 3 a.m. numbers, following a series of interweaving melodies that call on each other for the next step harmonically. "Eviction" is such a track, where the late night vibe permeates, an acoustic bass controls the groove and Ulmer plays his layered melodies, much like a singer would, changing keys and octaves while retaining the harmonic sensibility of the tune. It's beautiful and swings with a restraint we get from the artist increasingly these days, but was new then. On "Do You Wanna," Ulmer returns to the territory he explored on Black Rock in the 1980s. Powerful harmolodic chords create a riff for his voice and Ali's bass wedges a deep, almost P-Funk bassline into the center of the track, which becomes its backbone and the musical stage Ulmer sings from. They lyrics are no big deal -- they haven't been since Are You Glad to Be in America -- but they add to the overall groove 'n' roll of the cut. When Ulmer reunites with violinist Burnham, such as on "Forget Not," "Hymn," and "Inspiration," the music becomes truly wondrous. The interplay is so effortless, so intricate and fluid, it's as if each man had played the other's instrument before. Solos take place within riffs that change colors, timbres, and shape each time they're played. On "Hymn," the artist ups the ante by playing flute in addition to the guitar. These tracks are the album's standouts to be sure, but there isn't anything substandard here unlike a few of his preceding efforts. For those who are looking for Blood Ulmer to play the role of harmolodic guitar master, there is always the Music Revelation Ensemble. For those seeking to listen to the continuing development of James Ulmer as a musician, there are projects like this one, that pick up where his Odyssey recordings leave off, and where the Blues Preacher and Blues All Night recordings, flawed as they are, tried to direct our attention. This is jazz that embraces the spectrum of black music and holds within it the possibility for magic at each and every turn. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Harmolodic guitarist James Blood Ulmer extends his own musical vocabulary by using a string quartet to feature his first notated harmolodic compositions. This is not a jazz or classical string quartet but a harmolodic string quartet. Briefly, the system developed by Ornette Coleman and later extended by Ulmer reveals the possibilities for all members of an ensemble to play with equal weight; there is no tonal, melodic, or rhythmic hierarchy. These compositions work that way -- the string quartet doesn't merely back Ulmer. There are five compositions on the disc: three of them are written in movements, and another is a complete reconstruction of Tales of Captain Black. It's the long multi-movement pieces that are the most interesting, such as "Arena" in six sections. All 12 notes of the scale are open to Ulmer at any one time because all of his strings are tuned to one note -- harmolodic E. As the quartet is scored, the harmolodics call for the quartet to respond in a series of diatonic intervals inside a melodic framework that is tonally based and fully operational as it sifts through the various tempo and meter changes. Ulmer's interaction with the strings is as a fifth member, entering on cue, slipping chords through the harmony, diatonic modes, and intervals. His style is trademark -- he sounds like no one else in his knotty, chunk-and-funk phrasing, but it is so restrained here, so beautifully parsed out. Musically, the dynamic goes from solemn to processional to dramatic movement to ethereal shimmering bliss. On "Page One" a Scriabin phrase from his first string quartet is inverted to provide the opening theme. As the strings play through it, finding a new note at the beginning of each sequence to begin an interval, Ulmer enters haltingly, playing single notes, space between them, and the strings. In the next movement a progression is written that moves through all 12 tones as he chords with them reverse harmolodic counterpoint. The effect is chilling. Throughout the disc there are surprises and long passages of breathtaking beauty. Ulmer's sound and his approach to notational composition are in line with the most inventive of modern composers. His methodology and musical system may be different and uninterested in academic squabbling about harmony and rhythm, but that's ok -- he learned a long time ago that if you don't like the way something works musically all you have to do is make up your own musical system. The European academes have nothing on the soulful, sophisticated musicality presented here. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
Guitar and vocalist James "Blood" Ulmer collaborated with Ornette Coleman and drummer Rashied Ali (Coltrane). In turn, he is an inspiration to modern rock groups from Steely Dan to Red Hot Chili Peppers to Butthole Surfers for his interpretive "free guitar" style. Ulmer's string stretches are bolstered by electric violinist Charlie Burnham -- both are Southern boys with an affinity for the emotional, expressive Delta blues. Together, the pair lead a trio (rounded out by drummer Warren Benbrow) that gives avant-jazz constructions with a blues feeling. The themes build slowly, transform and return in a delivery that is emotional and intimate. It may take several listens to get used to Ulmer's nasal, narrow range, but the album is solid and worth repeated listens, and the tracks are well-arranged. Three songs are preceded by three eclectic instrumentals that mostly favor the violin. Afterward, the tracks decline in energy but invite more of Ulmer's signature fret experimentation. The final cut, "Alham Du Allah," is an exquisite and rich conversation between the violin and guitar to a steady drum rhythm. ~ Thomas Schulte, All Music Guide
Great cover art concept--James Blood Ulmer portrayed as the front porch bluesman that's definitely a big, often unrecognized part of his personality. Mouth-watering music concept--a long-anticipated venture into the compositions of mentor Ornette Coleman by the man who's probably his premier latter-day disciple. But, man, what an enormous let-down Music Speaks Louder Than Words is in terms of execution. First, why throw in three pedestrian, all-electric originals with straight backbeats and vocals that disrupt what little momentum the Coleman-penned tracks generate? To pad the disc from 42 to 55 minutes? To give son (we're assuming) Michael Mustafa Ulmer a chance to play keyboards on the record? Worse, Blood sounds distracted and disinterested, his guitar lines all introverted thumb mumbles and musings played softer than his acoustic rhythm section (and they're being sensitive). �Lonely Woman" gets a bit of blues feel and very sporadically those tradmemark electrifying harmolodic guitar shivers but Calvin �Hassen Truth" Jones bass is too active with counter melodies here. "Elizabeth" is very light, almost lounge-y melody variations that are totally unmemorable. While {&�Sphinx" summons up some lively elements, Blood is way off in that introverted zone of his own and the initial drama on �Skies Of America" fades away with his fragmentary playing. It's not the optimal debut for two unrecorded Colmean pieces. �Cherry, Cherry" actually has some energy and commitment with Jones' acoustic walking foundation and Amin Ali's thumb-pop electric bass lead. Aubrey Dayle's drums goose things, Blood sounds involved, and there's some interplay between the musicians. �Street News" is meditative at first, with Rashied Ali (wasted here despite putting forth the effort) and Jones carrying the load before Ulmer rouses himself to play some things that aren't remotely interesting. The originals: a lackluster rock tune (�Dance In The Dark"), one pedestrian boogie blues (�I Can't Take It Anymore") and one lame attempt to link his jazz is the teacher, funk is the preacher riff to rap (�Rap Man"). But Ulmer's mumbled vocal on the last one really shows how not into the whole thing he is. What a wasted opportunity. ~ Don Snowden, All Music Guide