Kufala Recordings 0096
Kufala Recordings 0068
Improvisation is all about faith (though not in the religious sense… although it is that, too). In other words, there are no special precautions one can take to ensure that magic comes out of a jam — all you can do is be positive, and believe that the stars will align.
And that idea, in itself, kind of sums up d'Elf's philosophy. Their guitarist, on that particular night, was playing with corks stuck between his strings, and that was cause for celebration, not head-scratching. Club d'Elf is a supportive co-op of musicians who are willing to try new things, go new places, and make great music. And they might play with strange objects stuck in the crevices of their instruments.
But back to Tronzo. His playing, which ranges from freaky to beautiful (and everywhere in between), is beyond fluid, and commands your full attention (remember to breathe when you're listening to him solo). And his interplay with Rivard, Kerr and the forward-thinking Maneri (loud and distorted, his violin often sounds like anything but) is arresting. On this night, a tiny Club made a tiny club shake with haunting, introspective themes and adventurous improvisations (check out Rivard's "Fire In The Brain," a nearly 20-minute odyssey through strange and funky sonic territory; other highlights include the group improv "Al Aita" and the Steve Bernstein composition "Cave Man").
And, if you need more d'Elf (which, undoubtedly, you will), you might be inclined to check out another release from the vault, "Live, 3/28/02 Athens, GA" (also on Kufala). This time out, Rivard's little jam session made it all the way down south, as a septet. On board were Maneri, Mr. Medeski, Mister Rourke, Fribgane, drummer Eric Kalb (Deep Banana Blackout!) and six-stringer Reeves Gabrels (he did time with Bowie).
And it's nothing like the quartet date from '03. With Medeski, Kalb and Rourke on stage, d'Elf get their groove on; Athens was a funky place to be that night, and don't you forget it.
Rivard's "Uncle Skulky" is infectious in all its hip-hop glory, and "Left Hand Of Clyde" could have been a P-Funk song (if P-Funk were seven white guys from Boston and NYC). Additionally, the bonus track ("Shadow's Shift," by the Maneri/Rivard songwriting team), a cut from earlier that week, is the dopest thing ever (think Head Hunters).
And the other dopest thing ever is Club d'Elf. Don't pass up a chance to see these guys, or to grab these records from the good folks over at Kufala. You won't be sorry (if you like really good music).
