Meet the Gold Sparkle Band

“Oh yeah. Think of Peter Brötzmann’s Die Like a Dog band and you get an idea of what’s up here. The Gold Sparkle Band is a quintet from Atlanta, GA, led by saxophonists Charles Waters and Rob Mallard. Their superbly post-Coltrane aesthetics are touched by the huge blowing sounds of the aforementioned European bandleader. Add to this mix Andrew Barker’s in-the-pocket drumming, Andrew Burnes’ Fender and upright bass (depending on whether you need groove or anti-groove), and the brass heaviness of Roger Ruzow, and you’re somewhere, but who knows exactly where. These cats jam, they’re hot, they know the difference between all-out cutting for the hell of it and digging deep into blues vamps and warping them all to hell without letting go of the soul inherently found there. They also understand how to swing like boppers who are topping the bandstand on speed and cough syrup (“Eddie Hatcher’s Revenge”). And then there’s the screaming Art Ensemble/Ornette Coleman-influenced “T.W. Stomp,” which takes the fusion of hard bop, skronk, and free jazz to new heights of carnality and Dadaistic precision. There isn’t any record like this on the jazz scene, and there is something going on in the Atlanta scene, where there are many other acts coming up with new approaches using old elements. Earthmover is one bad hangover of an album. You might not be able to live without it once you’ve heard it.”

“The Gold Sparkle band displays a lot of savvy with their improv-based street smarts, and have some originality of their own to showcase on these 11 power-packed tracks. Waters wrote six of these pieces: “Nu Millennium Waltz” uses ostinato bass, clarinet, tenor, and trumpet to produce an unruly, edgy, hard-swinging mood. “Other Anthem” sports a swirling repeated line that swings à la Coleman, with a free bridge for solos. “Motor City Fugue” (dedicated to the Detroit band Immigrant Suns) is a pensive ballad with rich harmonies, while “Fellowship” (dedicated to Other Dimensions in Music) has a dirge-like, bass-informed intro that gives way to a dense, hymnal texture and free bashing. “Soul Zodiac” incorporates a 10/8 groove, an in-out style, and Barker’s drum work (which clearly recalls Ed Blackwell), while the most humorous selection, “Carousel Lost,” goes plain goofy with swing. Ruzow contributes three cuts: the funky and real “Double Bump,” in which a snippet of melody merges with rip-roaring trumpet and tenor; “Borges,” which has a free and loose structure reminiscent of Old and New Dreams; and the meditational “Promises of Democracy,” a dour and cynical number with haunting arco bass and what sounds like an overdubbed cello or second bass. The two collective improvs, “The Aleph” and “Splintered Synapse,” are similar in their intrepid attitude, but the former is frantic and skittish, while the latter is clearly influenced by Albert Ayler. Derivations aside, the Gold Sparkle Band have one foot squarely planted in the avant tradition and the other in terrain previously mapped by the innovators of this music. A sparkling future should lie ahead for this bold, young band of freedom-seeking navigators. Highly recommended to fans of this style.” 

By its very nature, avant-garde jazz is self-indulgent — and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Even the best avant-garde jazz (which can be anyone from Cecil Taylor to the Art Ensemble of Chicago to Ivo Perelman) is self-indulgent, but when the artist’s creativity is at a high level, one is willing to accept the excesses (or perhaps even enjoy them). A collection of live performances from a 2000 tour of the U.S., Fugues and Flowers isn’t without its self-indulgent moments. But this acoustic CD (which was recorded in Chicago and Atlanta) is not self-indulgent in a mindless or aimless way — quite the contrary. Gold Sparkle Band’s free jazz excursions always make sense, and it is obvious that the ’60s recordings of Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler (two prominent influences) have been a positive influence on the avant-garde explorers. Does Fugues and Flowers have its excesses? Absolutely. But overall, there is a method to the madness; alto saxman/clarinetist Charles Waters, trumpeter Roger Ruzow, bassist Adam Roberts, and drummer Andrew Barker bring a sense of purpose to abstract material like “Zodiac Attack” and “Motor City Fugue” (which lasts 25 minutes). As left of center as this material is, Fugues and Flowers is not an exercise in atonal chaos for the sake of atonal chaos — in fact, the pianoless GSB knows exactly what it is doing on this 67-minute CD. Fugues and Flowers isn’t groundbreaking or revolutionary by early-’00s standards — Coleman, Ayler, and their colleagues were doing this sort of thing 40 years earlier. But GSB is good at what it does, and Fugues and Flowers is a noteworthy example of ’60s-minded, Coleman-influenced free jazz. 

The Gold Sparkle Band has never had a problem being self-contained, but there is no law stating that the avant-garde jazz group can’t bring in a guest on occasion — which is exactly what happens on Brooklyn Cantos, a 2002 recording. The guest is reedman Ken Vandermark, who is featured on tenor sax and bass clarinet — and this time, the Gold Sparkle Band is billed as “the Gold Sparkle Trio with Ken Vandermark.” It isn’t hard to understand why Gold Sparkle’s 2002 lineup (alto saxman/clarinetist Charles Waters, bassist Adam Roberts and drummer Andrew Barker) would want to work with Vandermark; like Gold Sparkle, Vandermark obviously realizes that being avant-garde doesn’t mean you have to be aimless — that savoring the joys of spontaneity and improvisation doesn’t mean you have to be unfocused. Actually, this inside/outside project is very focused; Waters, Roberts, Barker and Vandermark bring a real sense of purpose to material that ranges from the Ornette Coleman-ish “‘Burg Girl” (as in Williamsburg, Brooklyn) and the playful “Carpet Quarterbagger” to the dusky “Autumn Ever.” There is plenty of abstraction, dissonance and self-indulgence on Brooklyn Cantos, but it is an intelligent, logical sort of self-indulgence — it’s the sort of self-indulgence in which Vandermark can go off an inspired tangent and everything works out well because Waters, Roberts and Barker have his back. Or perhaps Waters is the one going off on an inspired tangent; the point is that listeners can easily hear a strong sense of camaraderie throughout this pianoless session, and Vandermark does more than his part to make Brooklyn Cantos a respectable addition to Gold Sparkle’s catalog.