Some collaborations are stranger than the sum of their parts. On paper, legendary trumpeter Don Cherry’s daughter Neneh joining the Scandinavian jazz trio that took its name from one of her father’s works, The Thing, to release an album featuring original compositions and intriguingly picked covers does not seem so outlandish. Indeed, such a proposition feels almost serendipitous when taken on its face. Unfortunately, as any chemist or basketball coach will tell you, formulas that work on paper do not always coalesce so affably.
That is not to say that the group explodes like a single-wide meth lab; The Cherry Thing is not necessarily a bad album, but it is somewhat self-serving and will be most attractive to only a certain kind of listener. Cherry’s name is listed first, but there is little doubt that she is the leak wink in the chain, the wrong variable in the equation. Cherry posses an interesting voice, reedy but with the delicate strength of a spider web. Combined with The Thing’s well-honed, freewheeling jazz, one can almost hear Cherry struggling to maintain pace, being dragged behind the group’s chops and bouncing wildly along the way in a desperate attempt to keep up. Vocal tricks and inflictions that test the tensile strength of the spider silk are thrown about, not in an exploratory, wing-stretching manner, but more as a gamble, a cry of look-at-me-I’m-a-musician-too that goes from negligible and unfortunate to grating as The Cherry Thing wears on.
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Mats Gustaffson’s saxophones are the polar opposite of Cherry’s vocals. They are powerful, spanning a vast array from muscular lead melodies, to tearing, snaking solos, lifting a heavy burden with ease and the album’s highlight. Gustaffson is backed by able bass lines — which often echo the humpback whale majesty of his low end — and chatty percussion, which, while having more to say then anything outside of hip-hop, manages to be complementary rather than overbearing.
The Thing carry their burden through an eclectic array of covers, all re-imagined while maintaining the spirits of the originals, a nifty piece of witchcraft the provides some interesting listening. Cherry seems most comfortable on her own “Cashback,” a cut that invokes fedoras and suspenders, crimson red lipstick, bouffants and pompadours, and cigarettes rolled into the sleeve of a white t-shirt. A swinging bass line and jagged sax solo combine with Cherry’s sneer for a polarizing piece. I was in Rochester, New York when the Third Wave of ska drowned us all in a sea of brass and checkerboards before washing out into Lake Ontario, and “Cashback” brought those memories rushing back to the surface.
“Dream Baby Dream” suffers from the same meandering listlessness as Suicide’s original, although Gustaffson’s visceral interpretation of the original’s synths is admirable. By contrast, a reinterpretation of Martina Topley-Bird’s “Too Tough To Die” is one of the albums more gripping compositions. The haunting extended chord progression and enthralling, impossibly deep saxophones of the opening conjures mist shrouded lands, with the bass creeping out of the fog before the entire thing gains speed and fury with frightening abandon. Cherry is strong here –whinnying horse impressions aside — whisked along in The Thing’s sound before the entire piece dissolves delightfully in the end.
One song lays The Cherry Thing out to bear. MF Doom’s “Accordion” serves as the perfect microcosm; strong, inspired instrumentation torn asunder by Cherry’s flailings. She goes from her lilt to a strong Jean Grae impression, before laying down so many voices and timbres it becomes infuriating.
That sense of frustration, in the end, permeates the entire album. The Cherry Thing is wild and intriguing, when it is not slow and boring. Cherry is serviceable, when she is not trying. And The Thing holds strong beneath it all.
(Smalltown Supersound, POBox 2069, Grünerløkka, N-0505 Oslo, Norway)
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B. David Zarley is a freelance writer based in Chicago. You can find him on Twitter, @BDavidZarley, or check the bars around Wrigleyville on any given night.