For those in the brass band world, Brett Baker is the face of
Rath trombones. His (presumably lucrative) arrangement with the
company includes the positions of ‘Featured Artist’ and ‘Clinician’,
and his other job - as principal trombone of the Black Dyke Band
- ensures the company the best publicity that money can buy.
I only mention this because the liner-notes to this CD skate
over Baker’s relationship with Rath in a bracketed clause
of small print in his bio, which seems disproportionate considering
the title of the disc, and considering that the cover shows Brett
Baker’s face peering out from a letter ‘R’ in
the distinctive font of the company’s logo.
But whatever the sponsorship machinations that keep the top bands
afloat, this is a fine CD. Listening to Brett Baker it is clear
why Rath want him representing their company, and equally clear
why he is the principal trombone of one of the world’s
most respected brass bands. He has a rich, mellow tone that virtually
never falters, whatever the extremes of tempo, tessitura or dynamics
he executes. The world of brass band trombone solos seems to
divide between the fast, flashy ones and the slow, lyrical ones,
and Baker excels at both. Stylistically, he achieves that curious
balance of being able to perform convincingly in almost any idiom
while always sounding like a brass player. Listeners from outside
of the brass band movement may have some trouble with this; a
legato trombone sound that is half way to a euphonium could be
considered an acquired taste. And this is a performing environment
where vibrato is
de rigueur, so Baker’s (relative)
restraint in that respect should be commended. He makes a bit
of a point out of the vibrato in ‘I loves you Porgy’,
but that’s the exception rather than the rule.
Most of the works are recent, so I suspect that most of the acrobatics
in the solo part are written in. One effect that Baker uses a
lot is slide up or down the harmonics on the lip. The eponymous
Rathamataz uses
that effect a great deal, in fact to the point where it becomes
part of the musical fabric. Elsewhere it is clearly decorative,
and in the case of the two Arthur Pryor works, ‘Annie Laurie’ and ‘Fantastic
Polka’ it must surely be a later addition. Pryor was the
trombone soloist in Sousa’s band, and while he was reputedly
skilled at the fast passagework, these kinds of lip flexibilities
are from a later age. In fact, the later additions made to Annie
Laurie (the arranger is Keith Wilkinson) make it something of
a compendium of soloistic trombone devices. There are multiphonics,
fruity pedals, lip trills ... you name it.
For those who, like me, are most familiar with Brett Baker’s
superhuman fast playing from his various youtube appearances,
he is even more awe-inspiring when heard on a proper recording.
That said, there is little here of extended, unadulterated virtuosity.
It’s a brass band recording, so variety takes precedence
over all else. There are a few longer works though, the most
involved of which is the Concertino for Trombone subtitled (Nightmare)
by Derek Bourgeois. Those familiar with his test-piece
Blitz will
know what to expect from this: relatively traditional brass band
figurations, but given energy and edge through sharp, rhythmic
articulations and plenty of percussion.
Other big names from the contemporary brass band scene are represented
in the slower numbers. Peter Graham’s
A Time for Peace uses
his trademark tuba and euphonium support to create a warm, sustained
chordal accompaniment for the soloist. Philip Wilby’s
White
Knuckle Ride demonstrates the composer’s uncanny ability
to create a wide range of colours and textures from the brass
band without any of the players doing anything particularly unusual.
It’s not a very virtuosic solo part though, especially
considering the title. Even Don Lusher makes an appearance, his
DL
Blues a skilfully comic turn of waa-waa mute, glissandi and
growls.
The Black Dyke Band is on form thoughout, not that there is much
to challenge it in this repertoire. It’s put through its
paces in
Rathamataz, but copes with the unusual scoring
magnificently and (most importantly) without upstaging the soloist
in the process. The sound is good. There is a bit of an abrupt
edit at the end of the introduction in
Rathamataz but
otherwise it is a proficient post-production job. All in all,
the disc deserves to do well, and certainly to do better than
the specialist niche market for which even the best brass band
recordings are destined.
Gavin Dixon