Buoyed by a string of widely acclaimed offerings from the fabled ECM label and finding fresh momentum at Intakt, Tim Berne’s Snakeoil continues its growth more than a decade after it started. From the outset, Snakeoil has been the main vehicle for Berne’s quirky compositions as fleshed out by Oscar Noriega (clarinets), Matt Mitchell (piano), Ches Smith (drums, percussion) and Berne himself on alto sax.
Just earlier this year came forth with their fifth studio album The Fantastic Mrs. 10, an album that gave us a lot to chew on, especially with guest guitarist Marc Ducret shaking things up a bit. Nine months later we’re hit with the double-disc The Deceptive 4, the first official live souvenir from Snakeoil.
In truth, there’s really no difference between a Tim Berne studio record and a Berne live record; he approaches his music the same way, performing death-defying acts of undulating movement marked by chance-taking, a sort of calculated unpredictability. David Torn’s mastering assures the rough edges are sufficiently filed down but the edginess itself remains intact. The Deceptive 4 presents Snakeoil in two different points of their evolution: a couple of early live dates from 2009-2010 that preceded the ECM era when the band was just finding its footing, and an engagement from 2017 around the time of their forth and final ECM release Incidentals.
Does The Deceptive 4 contain Tim Berne material on record for the first time? Yes, and no. A few pieces like “Deception” and “Hemphill” are debuting on record, some have ended up on prior Snakeoil records relatively intact and other selections are early versions of songs that have evolved in something else by the time they brought it into the studio.
Interestingly enough, the first disc encompasses the more recent events, while Disc 2 goes back to their beginnings. That second disc may document a band just coming together but it’s not a band that lacks direction or cohesiveness. There’s a palpable excitement in the discovery, with everyone creating within the moment. “Scanners” is the advance preview track, and at six and a half minutes, it’s by far the shortest one. Already in the band’s formative stage is airtight interplay and before the packed cluster of Morse code-rendered sequence of notes gets to feel too mechanical, Noriega on a Bb clarinet and Berne himself are on hand to battle monotony but avoid straying from the theme. Their variations instead lead into taking the band back to that theme using a different approach.
That song and “OCDC” eventually appeared on an ECM studio disc, the latter of which has everyone playing to the melody, not a rhythm; each player a piece fitting together like a jigsaw-like puzzle. But then that puzzle is suddenly replaced by a new one, where rhythm and harmony are one. The peak moment comes when Noriega and Smith are improvising in lockstep together as everyone else initially backs away. “Spare-Citta” later became “Spare Parts” and “Simple City” in the Snakeoil debut, and Mitchell’s forceful piano drives this thing while Berne and Noriega’s clash of styles creates the friction that thickens Berne’s plot.
The final cut from the earlier recordings comes from 2009: “Hemphill” pieces together sketches Tim Berne picked up from his old mentor Julius Hemphill, infused with his own imprint (itself heavily influenced by Hemphill). It maneuvers through many impressions, including a section where Berne’s and Noriega’s parts are charted but Mitchell and Smith play freely. In the next phase, Berne and Noriega alone engage in conversation with each other, the level of connection pretty astonishing considering that this ensemble was just getting started. That morphs into a nice, funk motion the sort of which is rare in a Snakeoil performance. There are many other delights happening in this 22-minute excursion but to summarize, the blurring of lines between preconceived and spontaneity and the ever-shifting roles of each between these two ends is present here. This was only the second time the band had ever performed in front of an audience but already, here is the strategy that has shaped their music ever since.
The newer material from seven years later finds the four maintaining the same identity but probing deeper and wide. “Perception” reveals the extent of Tim Berne’s composing acumen reaching far beyond jazz and into the realm of classical avant-garde. He also leaves yawning spaces here for improvisation — Smith in particular knows how to take advantage of this — and belts out an impassioned solo that also serves as a cue to segue into the belated, tortuous theme.
“Moornoats” has some similarities to the earlier “Scanners” but also illustrates how far the quartet has come along since then. There are more harmonic parts moving in those quicksilver, math-y progressions, for one. We also hear Smith on vibes, an instrument he eventually brought into the band, and it sets into motion a lovely, extended middle section of the song where he discreetly hands off the chordal duties to Mitchell. “Seven” is the precursor to “The Amazing Mr. 7” on The Fantastic Mrs. 10 where Smith goes heavy on his drums (for the later version, he’s barely on the drums at all but is much more prominent on vibraphone), an example of where each performance of a song in Snakeoil can bring a vastly different reading.
The synchronized harmonic elements contained in the opening theme of “Deception” are so tightly woven, it’s near impossible to suss out. Smith again appears on vibraphone but soon moves over to drums as this theme continues but in a fractured form, eventually broken down to Mitchell’s piano inhibitions. But nothing ever stays scattered with Snakeoil and they regroup as if guided by some invisible force toward another classic Berne groove-laden motif. That’s hardly the end of the story, not with Noriega’s show-stopping solo feature backed only by Smith, essentially playing spunky variations on the pattern.
After taking this all in, it becomes clear why The Deceptive 4 so aptly describes this quartet and the music they’ve made throughout their entire history: Tim Berne’s constructions become illusions in the hands of his band. Improvisations sound like preconceived ideas, and vice versa. Getting yourself lost in these deceptions is so much fun.
The Deceptive 4 releases November 19, 2020, from Intakt Records.
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