Pat Metheny… In the Dream Box
American electric jazz guitarist Pat Metheny has decades to look back on. Twenty Grammy Awards, fifty recordings, a band that bears his name, and a career full of creative energy and curiosity. His guitar sound marked the jazz era during the eighties and nineties. While “fusion”, for many authors and musicians, was limited to a term describing one style, Metheny took the name literally (i.e. mixture), finding in it opportunities to open new paths, and explore the depths of distant musical worlds.
A look back is reflected in his latest album, Dream Box, which was released last month. He took advantage of the opportunity to find forgotten audio files, containing recordings of his guitar solos, to listen to them again, to admire them, and to adopt them as a start towards producing a collection of tracks that not only restore the past, but also look forward to the future as seen by a seasoned artist, matured in the human experience, And the leader of a fulfilling and satisfying life.
The truth is that the future as it unfolds through the Dream Box does not look very happy. The music bears a dark poetic undertone. Perhaps it is the sage’s pessimism about finding any meaning in life. Oh God, except in a dream, or in flashes of memories of scenes and moments, for which the heart trembles and for which the eyelids moisturize. Or is it a musical projection on a present, anxious time, overcast with clouds of changes that are now obscuring from humanity the consolation of certainty.
Although the recording is by Metheny solo, the content is characterized by melodic and harmonic richness, as well as high expressive potential. It goes back to the guitar. Its six strings and the technique of grasping more than one string at the same time with the five fingers of one hand, and then striking them together with the nails of the five fingers of the other hand, allows the soloist to assign himself the role of both the main melody player and the accompanying melodies player, simultaneously and with deceptive ease, to sound as If more than one guitar plays together. The album’s nine tracks are a prime example of this.
On The Waves Are Not The Ocean, a contemplative poetic seldom opens a jazz album. Expansive, joyful notes of a solo electric guitar, echoing themselves softly and in the color of an acoustic guitar. The elongations of the notes over time allow her to weave a melodramatic melodic thread, even if it remains a lyrical revelation.
The second cut, From The Mountains. Harmony holder worried by the cacophony of reality following the juxtaposition of two tones. A dark, deep melody will emerge from it, played at a low level, reflecting introspection and internal reflection, perhaps evoking a past moment or recalling a memory deeply stuck in the conscience. Although a guitar accompaniment is still heard in the background, the general mood reflects a state of solitude with oneself.
In Ole & Gard, a guitar plays as if two guitars are looking for each other in the darkness of silence. Until they meet, the sound lights up. In Al-Trak, one touches a tone that is more joyful, or perhaps it is lighter in sadness, explaining secrets, even for a while. Which allows perhaps a broader scope for improvisation in the traditional jazz style of the nineties grafted with blues, Metheny’s golden time.
On Trust Your Angels, the guitar sounds so soft, as if whispering in the ear. The notes heal and combine to be heard as if the instrument is lulling a child to sleep. Improvisations rush and then scatter, like waves forming on a watery surface. Metheny resorts to playing the flutes using the flageolet technique, that is, when the finger hits the string, a distant sound is produced, making the flutes open highs in the range.
On Never Was Love, the guitar accompaniment takes a Latin beat, soft as if it were cushioned. Leaning on it, the solo section benefits from the dynamism of the rhythmic pulse to perform echoing improvisations, welding together the spirit of both the singularity and the accompanying choruses.
Metheny continues with I Fall In Love Too Easily. In this piece, there is a desperate search for a destination or a decision. The guitar strays, whether it’s an improvisation or a friend. Until Metheny takes hold of the first lyrical thread, the melody flows with a gentle sound laced with improvisational, chromatic trimmings, that is, when the notes are close to the corner and close to embracing.
In PC of Belgium, the acoustic guitar gives an introductory note, then the solo is backed up. The two are parallel in making the melody synchronized. Sometimes they diverge, sometimes they converge. They may be separated by a triple comma, i.e. a harmonic dimension measured by three tones, and times, only a two-tone separating them, i.e. after two tones.
Before closing, with Morning Of Carnival. In this piece, the Latin impulse strikes again, as well as the delicacy resulting from the adjoining of two notes within the same harmonic series. The melody is presented directly on an impromptu plate without introduction or introduction. Thus, it is as if he was playing a long time ago that was recorded. Metheny departs from the low level that most of the album relied on, to ascend high peaks from which he improvises no less gracefully.
Finally, with Clouds Can’t Change The Sky. In front of each cluster of tones, a broad chromatic range extends, foreseeing the next cluster; The melody is heard as if it had been stopped by the distant thought of each impulse. At a sudden melodic turn, a harmonious process emerges that arises from the succession of chords. It flows like a stream of a small stream that does not care about the road, driven by a stray wandering improvisation that will only be stopped by fatigue.
