Erik Friedlander’s The Throw 5/5/23 Firehouse 12

Jazz cello is somewhat of a unicorn. If there was a heap of jazz cellists, Erik Friedlander would be at the top of it. He brought his quartet to the Firehouse. Uri  Caine on piano, Mark Helias on standup bass, and Ches Smith on drums rounded out the group for this excellent set of music. I’m not sure if it is the richness of the cello tone, the omnivorous stylings of the compositions, or the fact that Friedlander is the son of legendary photographer Lee Friedlander ( whose snaps from the 60s and 70s chronicled the American condition with an emphasis on music during that period). With the exception of the younger Smith, these three are pillars of the downtown scene releasing some of the best records that you never heard. The cello allows for a chameleonic quality to the music, the groove based Tan Helmet gave way to the lyrical passages of Little Daily Miracles then on to the free jazz passages of Darse. Erik was definitely driving the trane , to the point of stopping and restarting one tune that didn’t hit his ear correctly. If I told you to conjure an image of Caine, you might get close. Ill- fitting polo, pleated haggar slacks and a haircut better suited to Richard Carpenter, Caine seemed to shun vanity and chose virtuosity. The piano runs could sound downright MikePosty or breathe fire as on the excellent Revelation. Helias added glue, dressed in black with a smooth shaven head, he looked as if a punk Mr. Clean was invited to the festivities. I have seen Smith in many incarnations, he is an in demand drummer for this type of music and I am sure appreciated the opportunity to play with this crew. Jumping time signatures, scraping his cymbals, Smith fit right in with this group. Erik could bow or pluck with one passage sounding Asian and another bowed duet with Helias exuded a mournful sound. Many who come to the Firehouse give me the “I don’t get it” in response to the music. To them, I say catch an Erik Friedlander show. His barrage of styles offers a gateway drug to jazz. Planned lyrical music detours into the realm of free improv, affording the listener a roadmap as to how they might get “it”. Encored with a strict reading of the Oscar Pettiford tune, fittingly titled Cello Again.