BRINGING IT DOWN TO THE BASS

As an unapologetic bass fetishist, just the name Tony Levin conjures up a wide palette of sounds and images, deeply entrenched in the nearly 60-year-old history of rock music. Arguably among the lengthiest resumes ever, this classically trained maestro of the low end's career has featured on such a multitude of recordings, most of them well known and some less so, that the mind tends to get boggled. Throw in longtime associations with King Crimson and Peter Gabriel, and one can only marvel at the quality of his craft. Whether dancing with a fretless or his prized Chapman Stick, chop stick add-ons notwithstanding, the man has also human credentials to boot. Getting along with, let's say, "brooding" talents like Peter or Robert is a rare gift in the ego-laden rock world, to say the least. His solo albums have clearly been both executed and received by the critical audience as fun projects, with finesse and this latest one is the finest (pun)of the lot. 'I had a dream', once long ago, that one day, I will finally hear an album where the unfairly timid bass is now up front, and in your face, reverberating its sonic genius for all to hear. There are only 2 main instruments that can be regarded as both melodic and rhythmic, connecting the two in perfect harmony and intent, the piano and the bass guitar. Lots of cool guests, many diverse tracks and all kinds of hints and nods to his past repertoire, like the mini-barber shop quartet reprise on the comical "Side B/Turn it Over".

Those long gnarly fingers get the ball rolling on the percolating, brass-infected groove of the opener and title track, setting the mood and the standard to follow. With Manu Katche handling the kit, Tony has a partner he knows well. The axe solo by Dominic Miller sets a fire under the smoking arrangement, with a burly organ rant from his brother Peter, both of whom know Tony well. An Alex Foster sax flurry finishes off the show. Jazzier realms on the lullaby spotlight "Me and My Axe" where the bald man shows that a bass can lead the waltz without skipping a beat, and when Steve Hunter (another pal from way back, when rain drops fell on a blue car) suavely partners his six sexy strings with a bluesy approach, actually dueting back and forth, while the organ slithers along like a jealous lover. Larry Fast and Jerry Marotta also keep the musical umbrella handy. Life on the long road has been no problem for Tony as he has enjoyed his travels immensely, being a photographer and keeping a diary, according to interviews I read, but "Road Dogs" quickly veers into a long, effortless prog groove before switching to a nasty, growling the title endlessly. 'You wanna rock n roll? ', get down greasy and bark at the moon? Okay then!

Tony gets funky as well as "sticky" on the appropriately titled "Uncle Funster", displaying a dazzling whirlwind of notes on both the Chapman and his usual implement, with the tremendous Vinnie Colaiuta bashing away on his kit like the madman that he is. The atmosphere gets the roof raised on the loud and proud "Boston Rocks" with Gary Husband on the keys and Mike Portnoy on the drums, bashing along in a frenzy before unexplainably, landing in an ethereal pool of soft voice and serene sounds. The punkoid guitar of Earl Slick sears like a chainsaw in delectable intransigeance before settling into meditation. "Espressoville" winks at an earlier Italian coffee named solo album, a perfectly timed return for the brassy jazzy rock the man is good at. The legendary Steve Gadd is on drums, the only musician I can think of who may have an even longer resume, while Joe Caro torches his fiery guitar like his life depended on it. A bluesy, rock n roll ditty with an uncommon purchase: Its not jello, it's a cello, as the man tells the story. "Give the Cello Some" is fun, fun, fun, brother Peter unleashing a gusty and lusty keyboard assault. The two Levins have played together forever, still having joy to express is priceless.

The basso profundo master (as Gabriel once described him in concert) likes to show his experimental side, as all that time with the Fripp should rub off on anyone. "Beyond the Bass Clef" is a sheer delight, a both calm and tortuous promenade on the neck that is exalting, with L. Shankar's violin and Colin Gatwood's oboe and horn also getting spotlight features. Things get elastique, athletique and diabolique on the cleverly named "Bungie Bass", a track that has a definite KC feel, as there is a ton of mayhem going on with the oblique guitar of David Torn and Pat Mastelotto's usual jungle pulse doing a fair amount of ear damage. But what Levin does to his coiling bass is just plain incredible, and the cello solo, invincible! A killer track. Another change of pace on the sorrowful "Fire Cross the Sky", a respectfully hushed homage to a recently departed musician (John Lennon?), a sensitive solo voice and stick as the only accompaniment. A noteworthy twinkle twinkle little star sensation.

Frippertronics arrive on "Floating in Dark Waters", Tony's fingers travelling along the bass giraffe's neck like a snake searching for a higher altitude. Rubbery brilliance, moody atmospherics with a tinge of omen in the background. Experimenting in spectral sounds. "On the Drums" is a hyper cute vocal introduction of a long list of drummers Levin has played with, most if not all known to me, so I felt in comfortable surround sound. The way he repeats Marotta and Bruford in particular is funny and highly entertaining. As I had mentioned at the outset, he is classically taught, so why not lower the curtain with a delightful "Coda", a bass and piano (also cited prior) symbiosis that does the entire album justice as it's a perfect and brief finale.

Just plain wonderful, a treat in every sense of the term. 5 low-end elevators