Riffs from a Mutant Axe

The Charlie Hunter Quartet,
"Ready...Set...Shango!" (Blue Note)

By MILO MILES Illustration by Zach Trenholm it used to be that, among jazz instrumentalists, guitarists were the most tempted to sin. In the '30s, guitar had been a nearly superfluous rhythm accompaniment in big bands. Charlie Christian introduced the electric guitar and pickers would never again go unheard. Even so, electricity was seen as a weakness, a vice, at least partly because amplified saxophones and pianos were such ungainly creations. Generations of jazz guitarists worked hard to sound as much as they could like loud acoustic guitars -- superclean timbre, distinct note phrasing, no more sustain than a piano pedal would allow. Still, slipping that proud plug into that warm socket always left the urge to crash and clang and howl and . . . but what would Barney Kessel think? Charlie Hunter is a prime exponent of a generation finally free of the old jazz-guitar hangups. He even plays a mutant axe, an eight-string job reminiscent of Big Joe Williams' nine-stringer. Working out of the San Francisco Bay area, Hunter spent genesis days with the caustic political-rap outfit Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy. After two albums with a trio and a side project with the rugged cover band T.J. Kirk, Hunter has expanded his outfit to a quartet for "Ready . . . Set . . . Shango!" Hunter handles the bass lines on those extra lower strings. Tenor saxophonist Dave Ellis has discussed and sparred with Hunter from the start. The new hands are Calder Spanier on alto sax and drummer Scott Amendola, pulled over from T.J. Kirk. Hunter doesn't feel that rock and fusion are the only alternatives to quiet jazz guitar. So The Charlie Hunter Quartet does not suggest Jimi Hendrix. Or Bill Frisell. Their sides fit well with '60s Grant Green, but don't simply juice up hard bop, either. And there's no acid jazzmospherics here. Hunter has indeed escaped categorization, though calling the group's tunes "shangos" as he does is going a riff too far. The strong sense of curiosity Hunter's groups project is crucial. It saves them from the reflexive classicism that hampers improvisers as fluid and mellifluous as Wessel Anderson and Roy Hargrove. Those unfamiliar with Hunter, especially pop fans, should approach his work sideways and start with T.J. Kirk as well as the Charlie Hunter Trio's first album on Prawn Song. The cover band specializes in the material of T(helonious Monk), J(ames Brown) and (Rahsaan Roland) K(irk), three guys who know a deadly lick and a slippery rhythm when they hear them. Each number is more than catchy; they develop whole personalities -- the striver of Brown's "Soul Power," the loquacious jiver of Kirk's "Freaks for the Festival," the unbowed fighter of the Trio's "Fred's Life." The same flair for the compression and punch of pop songcraft hit a peak on the Trio's first Blue Note album, "Bing, Bing, Bing!" It kicked off as strongly as any jazz album of last year with Hunter's incandescent wah wah feature "Greasy Granny," and a poised, mournful reworking of Nirvana's "Come as You Are." For this year's release, Hunter and company easily could have reheated the same dish, but they moved on restlessly. Hunter has said that the goal of "Ready ... Set ... Shango!" was to update the soul-jazz groove of organ combos like Jimmy Smith and Big John Patton's from 30 years ago and more. The key to enjoying those records (popular when they came out, then scorned for decades as pandering) was to get into the loose, rolling jams and savor the big tune hooks dipped in backbeat hog fat. A few quick sniffles about broken hearts appear on occasion, but worries and furious intensity were banished. At first, the hooks decorating "Shango!" sound too discreet for such a mood. And it does appear that the addition of Spanier on alto dilutes the discussion among the solos, particularly on "Shango ... The Ballad" and "Dersu." But the hooks on tracks like "Let's Get Medieval" and "Sutton" dig in after a while; Hunter and the gang just slide in a little cooler than before. They get every drip of soul-jazz ambience on "Teabaggin," where the horns' unison purrs behind Hunter's clipped solo provide an understated swing new to the group. Hunter's deliberate lowballing of his band's ambitions belies how much they plainly hear everything going on around them in both jazz and pop. Passionate without blubbering, cool but never arid, "Shango!" is the type of jazz album to play in the spirit of the old organ combos -- not to show off your sophistication but to have fun with brains. And, as the Hunter Quartet well knows, that shows off sophistication anyway. Milo Miles is the world-pop commentator for National Public Radio's "Fresh Air."

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