COSES NOSTRES

If I had to choose one album that represented the sound of mid-1970s jazz-rock fusion, all that was really good about the direction Mahavishnu and National Health and RtF had taken, it could very well be this one. Rich with the liberated spirit of that time and the dedication to technical challenge, Iceberg's Coses Nostres nailed it. They understood what was possible, but more importantly, they knew exactly what they wanted and how to achieve it. It's not necessarily that they were better than the countless other fusion acts of the era (which they were), but rather that they captured the essence of the style, its muse, and its distillation better than most.

Non-fans of the genre will likely neither notice that or care much, as it should be. I can't blame them. "Fusion" as it had become was very often a cold, soulless, ironically commercial brand of music, distorted from its raw and fairly humble beginnings with Tony Williams, Herbie Hancock and John McLaughlin into a machine-like parody of itself more often to turn up on AM radio or piped-in at a dentist's office than as the fierce form it was capable of being. It's no wonder a band from Spain would end up keeping the flame of real fusion alive, at least in 1976. I haven't heard Tutankhamon and apparently they were more symphonic, which would put this follow-up in a parallel arc with the whole Phil Collins/Brand X/Genesis jazzrock period (of which much of this reminds, though I prefer Iceberg to any Brand X). Remnants of their symph offerings can certainly be heard in 'Preludi i Record' as it melds with 8&1/2-minute 'Nova(Musica de la Llum)', a textbook Fusion dig that has all the right moves and then some, with blistering volleys between guitarist Suñe and keyboardist Mas, Jordi Colomer's crisp, popping traps, and Primitivo Sancho's utterly reliable and comforting thud on the Fender J Bass. The pretty opening of 'L'acustica' speaks Hancock and continues issuing that master's voice throughout the piece. The familiar tone of a Rhodes piano backbones 'La d'En Kitflus' but is layered with numerous synths and the flavors of seventies tech-funk, as does hip rocker 'La Flamenca Electrica', too long and somewhat drowsy 'A Valencia', and sly beastie '1 1/8 Manifest de la Follia' ends things confidently.

Definitive, authoritative, authentic, Iceberg's Coses Nostres became, perhaps unknowingly, one of the most satisfying examples of, what was then, cutting edge modern music. Fans of Colosseum II, Brand X, early DiMeola, et al., would do themselves a favor to find this puppy. Good stuff, muchachos.