I spent most of anniversary week avoiding the TV and listening to this country-flavored solo disc from avant jazz sideman Tony Scherr. And honestly, it helped. It's strange -- the record was made more than a year before the attacks, but the deeply personal tone, the NYC references and the sense of serious life-evaluation make this an excellent accompaniment to 9/11 reflections. There's a even a short track ("Luck in Your Eye") that starts with a Chopin prelude and ends with the line "I'm so glad you survived" and a woman's laughter. Eerie, hmm?
Tony Scherr is best known as the go-to bassist for artists like Bill Frisell, John Lurie and, recently, Norah Jones. He plays in Sex Mob, a raucous new jazz quartet known for its James Bond covers. Yet apparently, when he goes home to Brooklyn at night, he's a country guy, because Come Around has a rough, rootsy feeling that channels emotion like a funnel.
"Sacramento", for instance, is built around a bare, exposed banjo, which echoes plaintive vocals. It's like one of those Picasso drawings where one line conveys a whole image, eloquently, effortlessly, minimally. Similarly, "In My Hands" sets self-doubt to sad waltz time, simply and traditionally, with Peter Scherr backing his brother on string bass.
Other tracks are more layered, drawing on the considerable talents of Scherr's heavyweight jazz compatriots. Sex Mob drummer Kenny Wolleson contributes subtly excellent percussion to the disc, especially on the Middle Eastern "Almost Believe in Everything". Chris Brown, who has played with Barenaked Ladies and the Tragically Hip, adds a swelling Hammond organ to "Stuck It Out"; the horns at the end are basically an augmented Sex Mob. Legendary jazz guitarist Bill Frisell makes an appearance on the quietly lovely "Poor Katy's Car", and the cello you hear on the dark, pondering "What Kind of Friend Are You" is played by Jane Scarpantoni, who does string arrangements for pretty much every band you can think of. The quality of musicianship is very, very high, but the feel is still warmly home-made -- kind of like if you could get Fellini to videotape your kids' Christmas concert.
The story behind Come Around is that Scherr never intended a wide release. He made the disc in his home studio and pressed a few to sell at concerts. Steve Shelley got a copy in 2001, and persuaded Scherr to release Come Around through Smells Like. It's a record that could easily have gotten lost in the shuffle -- not flashy at all, but well-done, heartfelt and true. It's the kind of music we need in troubled times, and we are lucky to have it.
