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Bobby Watson and Horizon

JJA Critic’s Clinic - January 22nd, 2004


During an incendiary hard-driving set of alto saxophonist Bobby Watson's quintet Horizon, a broken fire alarm in the Hilton Hotel sounded repeatedly in what, in retrospect, seemed like a running commentary on the powerful music. And although the performance showcased the group's high energy, intensity and technical virtuosity, it also revealed a fundamental and very soulful sweetness, most notably in the solo work of Watson and trumpeter Terell Stafford.

This group likes to groove, and groove it did. Its opening piece, Country Cornflakes, was a bright latin-flavored tune that began with a repeated riff that alternated with improvised sections; eventually the rhythm section (with Edward Simon on piano, Essiet Essiet on bass, and the drummer Victor Lewis, whose unusual kit included a second snare drum) shifted gears seamlessly into a solid take-no-prisoners swing. On an alternating foundation of swing and a latin vamp, the soloists turned up the heat without losing musicality, no easy feat.

Watson is a commanding mainstream player whose virtuosity is both tempered and enhanced by a sweetness and grace. Stafford built his solos well with a good dynamic range as well as a natural flow; and although the crowd reacted to his brassy high notes, he - like Watson - didn't allow the exuberance of his solo playing to eclipse the vehicle of the tune. And Simon was a real asset on Permanoon, a latin vamp in 7/4 that included a 4/4 section; when Permanoon segued into The Inventor, he played a piano solo that was harmonically sophisticated, creative and seated beautifully in the time. He was also an empathic and inventive accompanist, particularly behind Stafford's solo on the closing tune, a fast swinger with an intricate melody built on the harmony of a four-bar vamp.

In a quieter, less intense mode, Watson rearranged a jazz standard. After the first two melody notes of the great Duke Ellington ballad I've Got It Bad and That Ain't Good, Watson played the rest of the first four bar phrase up a half-step with altered harmony, before returning to the original key. But once that re-harmonized melody was stated, this rendition still featured Horizon's penchant for an infectious groove: the solos of Watson and Stafford (with plunger) were alternating two-bar exchanges built on simple vamps rather than the more complex harmony of Ellington's tune, and the whole tune was played in a slow blues-inflected groove.

A tight and well-rehearsed unit, the band members of Horizon - both in their expert musicianship as well as their body language - connected with their receptive audience. And Watson's sweet - almost shy - demeanor and slight stature provided a wonderfully attractive counterpoint to the extraordinary firepower of his musicianship.