Although Chris Stamey is best known as being part of the original dB’s, the legendary jangle-pop combo from Winston Salem, N.C., that sprouted wings when they moved to NYC in the late ’70s, his solo work has always been equally fascinating. Soon after cutting Stands For deciBels and Repercussion, the seminal band’s longplayers tracked in the early ’80s, Stamey pulled up stakes and returned to churning out his own hackle-raising sound. He has resurfaced recently as part of a fertile duo with Peter Holsapple, but it’s albums like his current solo release, Lovesick Blues (Yep Roc), that keep his one-man trip smoldering like a late-October controlled burn in the N.C. tobacco fields while light rain begins to fall. Stamey will guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new Q&A with him.
Stamey: Hearing something great and surprising at a party is one of the best reasons to leave the house, and it should come as no surprise that there were lots of great things at the Jazz Foundations Loft Party benefit in New York City a few months back. It was certainly not a surprise that James Carter amazed and astounded on the sax–does he live on a planet where time moves at a different rate? How does he think so fast? Gorgeous brinksmanship and accuracy. But I had never heard saxophonist Darius Jones and his band before and was stunned by the depth and breadth of the tunes and the ensemble playing. There was, to me, a bit of the old Knitting Factory (Houston Street) downtown scene about it, although with perhaps a higher level of accomplishment: The harmonic horizon was more spacious than usual. Gosh, writing about music … glad I don’t do this much, how to convey that the hairs stood up on the back of my neck from the first notes? Maybe I just say that. Darius doesn’t showboat, he seems to play with full attention, floating and weaving, as did the whole band. Ches Smith, on drums, particularly caught my ear: His choices seemed measured and never rote, always listening but almost non-drummerly (I mean this as a compliment); like he had found this instrument in the room and was trying to make it speak. They were playing for and with each other, for the room, not for the audience; but maybe this is actually one of the best ways to play for an audience. I hope to hear Darius and the rest many more times down the line and hope you do, too.
Video after the jump.
