For Charles Lloyd and Pythagoras alike, three is the perfect number. Spiritual force and living legend, the prolific saxophonist Lloyd, delivers the second of the three planned trio albums with Ocean, his collaborator’s pianist Gerald Clayton and guitarist Anthony Wilson, thus dubbed the Ocean Trio. The album takes its name, as did the previous Chapel from the locale of the recording, in this case, Lloyd’s hometown of Santa Barbara, CA, and its Lobero Theatre, where Lloyd has performed more than any other venue, and more than any other artist. The streamed concert took place during the pandemic so there is no live audience. Lloyd has a history of recording with both musicians, each coincidentally the son of a West Coast jazz legend. Clayton is the son of bassist John Clayton and Wilson is the son of bandleader, composer, trumpeter, and arranger Gerald Wilson, in whose big band Lloyd once played while attending USC, having moved from his birthplace, Memphis, TN.
These three trio albums each have a different musical configuration with the drums and bass absent here in favor of the rather unique and colorful harmonics that the piano and guitar bring, shrouding Lloyd’s searching, mood-inducing improvisations. There are just four selections, all composed by Lloyd, running just over 41 minutes. The performance begins with “The Lonely One,” a dreamy, ruminative piece that perfectly fits the pandemic mood of the time. Lloyd rarely blows hard but reaches deep into spiritual realms, his saxophone entry akin to a coastal breeze while Clayton and Wilson comp and emit bright accents in almost a cushioning, pillow-like effect around Lloyd’s lyrical, mysterious leads. From the start, we can feel that this is an album about pensive and evocative moods and top-level ECM-like harmonics that range from light to darkly dense.
Lloyd begins “Hagar of the Inuits” unaccompanied on his rarely played alto, delivering a spiraling passage dedicated to the plight of his great, great grandmother and that of the Inuits. This leads to a call-and-response exchange with Clayton that grows in intensity before dissolving, first into a percussive Clayton solo before making way for a bluesy guitar run from Wilson as Clayton retreats into a boogie-woogie piano mode. Throughout, it’s a clinic in listening as each responds to each other, elevating each’s statements.
The blues, inherent in Lloyd’s early history, having played in Memphis with giants such as Howlin’ Wolf, Bobby “Blue” Bland, and B.B. King, surfaces again in “Jaramillo Blues.” The tune is dedicated to the painter, Virginia Jaramillo and her husband, sculptor Daniel Johnson. This is a more optimistic take on the blues with Lloyd playing his alto flute and Clayton initiating the piece with his animated chords. While Lloyd is breezy, Clayton’s solo conjures deeper blues and Wilson goes for a jazzy-blues turn, hitting some chill-inducing notes along his way.
As “Kuan Yin” begins, one may think it’s the sound of the plucking of a standup bass but it’s Clayton with his hand inside the piano on its lower strings as the other hand strikes the low register keys, creating a kind of percussive effect that evolves later into a rhumba rhythm. Lloyd, as he typically does, enters gently but increases his intensity to the highest levels in the four pieces, his trio mates in restrained accompaniment until Wilson first blossoms with a jagged, inspired solo followed by Clayton’s cascading, shimmering turn which builds to a crescendo. At the diminuendo, Lloyd reenters with a simple six notes, the piece fading quietly. Enough said.
As Stuart Nicholson perfectly states in his liner notes, this is an aural photograph of one moment in time. If the trio were to play these four pieces again, they would inevitably sound different, attesting to the infectious nature of the improvisatory performance. Stay tuned. The third of Lloyd’s trio offerings is due in November with Sacred Thread, featuring guitarist Julian Lage and percussionist Zakir Hussain.
