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Boston Phoenix "Live and On Record"
March 2, 2001
MILES OF MUSIC: CLUB D'ELF
A CONTROLLED EXPERIMENT: Thursday at Club d'Elf, Mike Rivard stood at the center of the circle and directed the music with his bass and his hands: segues, riffs, entrances, exits, shifts.
A week ago Thursday Club d'Elf celebrated both the release of its debut disc, As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge (Live Archive), and three years of regular performances at the intimate Mass Ave nightspot. And as if that weren't enough to pack the Lizard, the program featured keyboard virtuoso John Medeski of Medeski Martin & Wood, whose presence guarantees both a capacity crowd and an impeccable standard of musicianship.
Not that Club d'Elf needs him. The success of the bi-weeklu residency is due in part to the way Mike Rivard surrounds himself with local rock and jazz musicians who can take the simplest of materials — a rhythm vamp, a melodic fragment — and stretch them into epic and hypnotic experiments. The line-up Thursday included roots guitarist Duke Levine, drummer Erik Kerr, percussionist/oud-player Brahim Fribgane, and the free-jazz father-and-son duo Mat and Joe Maneri on violin and reeds, plus Rivard on bass and Medeski on keyboards. The particulars are important, because the mood, the outlook, and the success of this type of music — a sort of pan-ethnic, jazz-dub-funk-electro-rock fusion — hinges on the qualities and the personalities of the players.
Depending on the night Club d'Elf can be ethereal or evil, funky or flippant, dense or discordant. Maybe it was the effect of their having driven up from New York in a light snowstorm, but the crew were in an especially ragged mode last Thursday. The vamps were typically deep and rock solid, but they often exploded into shitstorms of squawk and skronk. The Maneris and Medeski led the way into the out-there, engaging in a three-way musical conversation that had all the anger and power of a lovers' quarrel. They prodded and poked one another relentlessly. Joe Maneri traced elliptical sax or clarinet arguments in the air. Mat Maneri bowed distorted violin growls. And Medeski jutted in with keyboard fluctuations that had more to do with trashy stompbox abuse than with jazz piano skills.
Despite these moments of unstructured improvisation, Club d'Elf is still a controlled experiment. Rivard stood at the center of the circle and directed the music with his bass and his hands: segues, riffs, entrances, exits, shifts. When the groove was fairly continuous, he acted like a dub producer, raising and lowering different instruments in the mix. With a few brief motions he could bring Fribgane's intricate dumbek drumming to the fore or pair off members of the group into intimate duets. It's a form of improvisational arranging that gives individual musicians time to shine yet keeps the music focused and direct.
Rivard also knew when to step back and let the players find their own way — which usually led to some sort of full-bore, hair-raising freakout. At those times, the music most resembled the psychedelic smear of Miles Davis in the '70s. Which makes sense. Club d'Elf is a contemporary take on the fusion experiments of Miles Davis's Live Evil or On the Corner — just substitute turntables, samplers, synthesizers, and jungle breakbeats for Miles's sitars, Fender Rhodes, and wah-wah trumpet. In each case you get an expansive, improvised style of rhythm-based music where form and melody are less important than texture, timbre, and sound. And that also connects Club d'Elf to the wave of anti-ego, post-rock, pro-groove thinking that's infected the American musical landscape, from indie rock to electronica to the neo-hippie scene. Club d'Elf's advantage is that it stands somewhere in the middle, influenced by all those genres but committing to none.
BY MICHAEL ENDLEMAN
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WoMag (Worcester Magazine)
December 4 , 2001
"d'Elf Awareness"
Almost every time Club d'Elf performs, the lineup of the musicians changes. For leader and bassist Mike Rivard, the rotating lineup is a necessity. "I'd love to have a constant group," says Rivard, "but the type of players I like to play with all have their own groups that take up a lot of their time. So it's nice to have a semi-regular group of musicians to draw from."
Club d'Elf's unique mix of jazz, electronica, dub, trance and world music came about when Rivard landed an every-other-Thursday gig at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge four years ago. Dozens of special guests have come through since, ranging from keyboardist John Medeski to microtonal reed pioneer Joe Maneri to cable public access poet Dr. Nancy Mroczek. They are just a few of the scores of musicians featured on As Above (Grapeshot / Live Archive Records), a two-CD set of live recordings released earlier this year.
In Worcester, Club d'Elf will be made up of a typically stellar group of all-stars. In addition to Rivard and regular drummer Erik Kerr, the group will include Duke Levine on guitar, Alain Mallet on keyboards, DJ Mr. Rourke on turntables, and special guest Adam Deitch on drums.
Levine is the Worcester-bred guitar giant usually found these days with Mary Chapin Carpenter. He's played with Rivard since the two were part of The Story in the early '90s. But those used to hearing Levine play folk/rock will find he has another, far more experimental side, as captured by his work on As Above.
Mallet plays keyboards with everyone from Paul Simon to Cuban jazz legend Paquito D'Rivera. And DJ Mr. Rourke, who'll be playing his first show with Club d'Elf, used to be in Boston funk favorites Fat Bag.
"Working with DJs is like having another instrument in the band," notes Rivard. "We've been lucky to work with DJs who are very musical."
While Rivard writes the outlines of Club d'Elf's music, the tunes are structured to allow the musicians substantial room to improvise.
"My intent is to get the band on any particular night to compose on the spot," he says. "The compositions I bring are just a springboard, and hopefully the unexpected will come from them. I think of the group as remixing the tunes every night."
The idea of a live band remixing itself spontaneously meshes with Rivard's interest in DJ culture. A master of both electric and upright bass, Rivard uses loops to sample his own playing live. Rivard and Kerry's rhythms are often reflective of minimalist dub or trance, with lines dropping out and coming back.
"I love to leave out a note or extract a silence," Rivard says. "I imagine there is some meta-dub producer who is taking away one of our limbs, and there goes the snare drum or the cymbal."
When Club d'Elf draws on the music of India or Morocco, it doesn't do so casually. Rivard and frequent Club d'Elf member Jerry Leake are members of Natraj, who have studied the intricate science of Indian music extensively. And Club d'Elf's trance rhythms have been deeply influenced by performing with Moroccan gnawa musicians, who play the music of the indigenous Berber people.
"Merging traditional musical concepts with more of a modern musical aesthetic just seems natural to me," says Rivard.
-Noah Schaffer
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Jambase.com
September 19, 2001
"Happy To Know That Some People Are Mad":
Mike Rivard and Club d'Elf
One place where you might find jazz aficionados, electronica addicts, hip-hop enthusiasts and admirers of the avant-garde all congregated under one roof is at a Club d'Elf show—a rare and peculiar performance, featuring a revolving door of outlandish and well-versed musicians.
Since establishing Club d'Elf in 1998, Rivard has observed his collaborative effort mutate into 40 artists, who contribute their musical expertise to a consonant aberration within a greenhouse of bizarre and fresh symphonic germinations.
"I want the rhythms to come together," said Rivard "A listener expects the song to continue a certain way but then we come out of left field and sneak up on the brain."
Since its inception in the town of Cambridge, Mass., Club d'Elf's reputation has unraveled among a handful of nearby cities along the East Coast. The group's most recent album entitled, As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge), was released in January of 2001. This double disc captures the live performances of Rivard and Company in a venue, home to Club d'Elf's biweekly gig, beginning more than three years ago.
"The people at the club booked us for a night and that was how the band was born," said Rivard. "I have a friend who books the gigs and he suggested putting together an evening of improv-trance and drum-n-bass. We tried it out on a Sunday night and have been playing there ever since."
Aside from Rivard, Club d'Elf features Erik Kerr on drums, Jere Faison on dagomba drums and samples, Brahim Fribgane on oud, and Jerry Leake on tablas and percussion, Tom Hall on tenor saxophone. Guest musicians include drummer Kenwood Dennard, guitarists Reeves Gabrels, Duke Levine and Ian Kennedy, DJ Logic, DJ C, keyboardists John Medeski and Alain Mallet, and tenor saxophonists Joe Maneri and Eric Hipp, Tom Halter on trumpet, Mat Maneri on electric violin, Dr. Didg on didjeridoo and Roberto Cassan on accordion. "It's really cool because we have so many different people involved and every show is different," Rivard explained. "Every night we experience new things and we get a large audience because the people there are attracted to different personalities in the shows."
In addition to playing the bass, Rivard also serves as the conductor of the group. As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge)—a hypnotic representation of the mind's interworkings. If both the biological and psychological functions of the brain: gushes of serotonin streaming through the blood; crackling synapse sparks linking one neuron to the next; nerve rhythms and human desires spawned in the hypothalamus; could be viewed against music—this album would serve as the soundtrack.
"People like the record except for one guy who said we were the worst band in the world," said Rivard. "It's important to know that we are pissing people off. I'm happy to know that some people are mad because that means I'm doing something right."
Rivard's many influences range from DJ Shadow, Fatboy Slim and Squarepusher to Dave Holland and Dave Douglass to Moroccan and North African rhythms. In fact, his most recent influences have come from both movies and television shows.
"I like the dark cutting-edge comedies like Mr. Show," he said. "I would like to be the musical version of shows like Monty Python and The Simpsons and interpret those really fucked up, dark, twisted and surrealistic elements through Club d'Elf"
Rivard explained the group's peculiar name was coined from various forms of inspiration; the psychedelic to the mythical to the musical.
"A man by the name of Terence McKenna who, is well-known figure in the psychedelic drug scene was involved with plant based compounds and elf entities in such hyperdementia," he explained. "When said fast, Club d'Elf sounds like clubbed elf and so it has that dark and sinister Lord of the Rings element and as a bass player the word elf is commonly used as an acronym for extra low frequency. So as you can see, there are many elements involved in the name."
Rivard continues to spread the word of Club d'Elf, focusing his publicity towards college students, who dig the "grooved-out" trademark sounds of Medeski, Martin and Wood; he also hopes to someday book a West Coast tour. "It's hard to get the other musicians to come on tour with me because they are all in other bands," he explained "It's much easier to book gigs in unknown territory when you have someone like John Medeski with you because MMW is known all throughout the country."
Club d'Elf is also nearing completion on a studio album—a 2-year project, while continuing to gig on a weekly basis at the Lizard Lounge. "It's been slow getting the word out, we can't really take out a half page ad in Rolling Stone," Rivard concluded. "But soon enough, world dominion will be ours. Did I say that out loud?"
-Whitney Youngs
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Calendar Magazine, Boston Globe
September 20, 2001
Here's a Boston band you don't want to miss: Club d'Elf
Core Members: Mike Rivard (bass); Jerry Leake (tabla, percussion); Jere Faison (sampler); Erik Kerr (drums); Brahim Fribgane (oud, percussion).
Guests include: John Medeski (keyboards); DJ Logic (turntables); Dana Colley (saxophone); Reeves Gabrels (guitar); Duke Levine (guitar).
Where and When: The Lizard Lounge, every other Thursday night.
Club d'Elf is the thrilling, musically omnivorous brainchild of veteran bassist Mike Rivard, who has played with everyone from Johnatha Brook and the Story to ex-Velvet Underground drummer Mo Tucker. Hatched several years ago as a way to showcase a multitude of genre-splicing musicians interacting in a live, experimental setting, Club d'Elf has since become just about the most exhilarating way to spend a Thursday night. Rivard leads both band and audience on a musical odyssey that's just as likely to draw on Morrocan and West African trance as it is acid rock and free jazz. The group, which can number anywhere from four to a dozen players, regularly includes such heavyweights as David Bowie guitarist Reeves Gabrels and Medeski, Martin, and Wood keyboardist John Medeski. Grab their CD, As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge).
-Jonathan Perry
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Global Bass Online
June 2001
Mike Rivard ~ Boston's Best
In a popular magazine from many years ago, I read an article about a well-known songwriter and pop artist who was asked about his unlikely success and uncanny skill at crafting hit songs. His homey response concerning his ability was, “Well… even a blind pig finds an acorn, every once in a while…” I never forgot that expression, and I’ve often thought it (not daring to say it!) as an answer when life throws an incredible opportunity my way. I also understood something about the deepened sense of maturity and true humility, mixed with a personal sense of humor, in the artist’s words.
Such was the comment of my internal monologue when I was given an opportunity to interview one of the most thorough influences on my approach to supporting vocalists – in both the recorded and live performance medium. The bassist in question is Mike Rivard. I was introduced to "Micro’s" playing through Jonatha Brooke & The Story, one of my favorite singer/songwriter environments, over ten years ago. It is his incredible playing on favored discs, Grace In Gravity and, Angel in the House that still finds it’s notable influence in my own playing.
Mike, is the bassist and leader of the critically acclaimed group Club d’Elf, and he is well known on East Coast live music scenes, and particularly in his adopted hometown of Boston, MA. Club d’Elf’s latest disc, As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge), boasts guests as diverse as DJ Logic and Reeves Gabrels in its formidable revolving roster of talent. After listening to this disc bring an exacting definition to the ethereal phrase, “New World Music”, I have to go with the review on the band’s website, “Here it is, baby: ‘Lather, Rinse, Repeat.’"
In short, Mike Rivard is one of those bassists with the sheer musical ability to be called upon by the likes of Paula Cole, Jon Brion, and Groovelily as well as the groups Morphine and Guster, amongst others.
I spoke with Micro just after his triumphant return from a tour with Club d’Elf. We caught up again a few weeks later, after he returned from visiting with his friend, Jonatha Brooke, during her sound check – for her recent appearance in Boston.
As the conversation unfolded, I was once again reminded that I was in the company of an incredible player with a unique gift of musical ability and focus. Mike Rivard is truly amongst Boston’s best exports, and is quickly becoming one of that city’s most prized musical possessions!
BAJ: I guess the first oddball question would be: How does a guy from Minnesota go from studying with Dave Holland; to playing with Cab Calloway; to playing a number of “East Coast New Folk” sessions; to finding himself leading a group like Club d’Elf?
MR: I moved to Boston to study at Berklee, in 1981, and that’s how it all began. During my years at school (1981–1985) I met Russ Gershon, and wrote several transcriptions for him – for his Charles Mingus Class. I also played in his 12-piece big band. I also played a number of tours, and recorded with that band. I met John Medeski then, and we stayed in touch after that band and later played together again in Club d’Elf.
Cab (rest his soul) traveled with his drummer/music director, and Russ got the contract when he came to Boston. Russ formed a group for Cab’s East Coast shows, and hired me as bassist. Through that connection, I ended up playing with Cab. At first, Cab was hardcore—growling at the band—but by the end of rehearsals, he had warmed up to the band. It’s pretty amazing how someone like Cab kept it all together. I learned a lot through that experience.
I met Dave Holland through the BANFF Center of Fine Arts (a school in Alberta, Canada) after getting a scholarship there. It’s very beautiful country up there, and I also met “Smitty” Smith, and John Abercrombie there, amongst other great players. Later, Dave commuted from his home in New York to Boston to teach at the New England Conservatory. He stayed in my home while he was commuting, and would stay an extra day to teach privately there. I later bought an acoustic contra bass from him that he had used for one of his solo records. That kicks my ass, when I think of that!
Later, I began playing with The Story, through meeting Ben Whittman—who’s a great drummer—who introduced me to keyboardist/producer Alain Mallet. Ben, Alain, guitarist Duke Levine and myself became the band that backed The Story (vocalists Jonatha Brooke, and Jennifer Kimball) after playing sessions for them, produced by Alain. Those records became very popular, and I began getting session calls.
BAJ: What drew you toward the bass, and when?
MR: I began listening to Tom Fowler, Phil Lesh, John Paul Jones, and Jack Casady—you know, bassists who were playing well. A teacher turned me onto the Bitches Brew record that same year. After that, I began seeking out recordings by Charlie Haden, Charlie Mingus, and then later more free-jazz players like Sirone, Barre Phillips, and Barry Guy.
Later, I got into pop music and I started listening to Collin Moulding, Tony Levin, Anthony Jackson, and other players.
These days, I listen to music in a more holistic fashion—as opposed to listening to bass-oriented music. Chris Wood of Medeski, Martin & Wood and Dave Holland continue to be influences. I like players who present an overall musical aesthetic, like Marcus Miller—who plays for the song, but just happens to have great chops. I also think British bassist Collin Hodgkinson was way ahead of his time! The stuff Back Door was doing is still ahead of its time! Though, I didn’t dig the Beatles at first, I’ve since understood how musically intrinsic Paul McCartney’s lines were. I was more of a snob in my earlier listening. Many of the “pop” players simply play their asses off—like Bootsy and Bill Laswell—and that effects me more deeply, musically, and I look for that. It opens my ears, and allows me to hear the other instruments.
Like… James Brown, the whole piece of music is interwoven, and the parts produce an incredible accumulative rhythm. I hear Western African music when the musicians play more of as “part of the whole,” and that type of playing takes a player who’s willing to not be locked into a part, and change when the time comes… when it’s necessary.
BAJ: Do you find session work at all rewarding?
MR: The session work started through The Story, as I mentioned. It’s more a matter of hooking up with the right producer. I still work with Alain Mallet, and I have since The Story days. It’s hard to be in the presence of a genius, like Alain, or John Brion, and not be effected. Everything they touch is great! If you play on a recording that someone happens to like… you begin to get calls.
Certainly, my personal aesthetic tends toward hearing music that is more extreme. I think that people who heard me in The Story would be shocked and appalled if they heard other things that I've done, like Club d’Elf.
BAJ: How do you approach supporting a vocalist, versus supporting a lead instrument?
MR: I guess the main thing is “What can I do for this person, so they will continue to employ me?” (Laughter) With a vocalist, it’s important to get an idea of what the vocalist is saying, lyrically. Getting a copy of the lyrics is a great idea. Playing simply is a good idea, and wait for places between phrases before playing a fill.
The important thing is to be as open as possible. Often times, I come up with a part that I like, and I’ll play that. I’ve grown to understand that it’s okay to do something different, if the part isn’t working anymore—even if it’s hard to say goodbye to the part I created. If it isn’t happening… It shouldn’t’ be there. The artists who call me now are looking for something a little more creative and responsive. Many times Producers will record a “meat & potatoes” part, and then make another more “creative” pass. From there, they build a part for their project.
I like to think I can play something I hear that will be appropriate, when backing a vocalist. So, it’s more a matter of listening. It doesn’t advance anyone’s cause to be obstinate about a part! It’s all about making people happy.
In d’Elf, I’m more interested in being true to my own musical direction. I don’t look at this band as a soundboard for furthering my own musical thing, necessarily—even though the bass is the central voice. What I’m going for is to support the other improvisations, by playing ostinato, and create a “resting place for the other instrumentalists to come back to.” I keep the “home fires burning” as a place for the other instruments to return to, to refocus.
BAJ: Which artists’ have been your favorite to work with over the years, and why?
MR: It’s hard to choose favorites—because people get angry if they’re not on the list. But… I enjoyed working with Jonatha, The Story, Mighty Sam McClain and Morphine the most—if I have to choose.
BAJ: Talk to us about Club d’Elf’s latest line-up, and the new tour.
MR: The line-up is ever changing, man. The core of the band is myself, drummer Erik Kerr, and Brahim Fribgane—who plays oud and percussion. The three of us rehearse the material, and work out different rhythmic structures to work into the compositions. Jerry Leake (tabla and percussion) and Jere Faison (sampler) were very involved in the early days of the group and still play with us frequently.
John Medeski and Mat Maneri (electric violin) joined Erik, Brahim and myself on the most recent tour. DJ Logic, Joe Maneri, and Duke Levine also joined as the touring ensemble. Also, saxophonist Tom Hall; guitarist Randy Roos—who was playing a lot around Boston with Jeff Berlin, in the 80’s; DJ Flack, DJC, and others often join us as we played dates along the East Coast. It depends on players’ schedules, how many people I can fit on a particular gig, and where we’re playing. I call NY musicians (in addition to Erik and Brahim) when d’Elf plays there, for instance.
BAJ: What’s happening in the coming year for Mike Rivard?
MR: For the past two-and-a-half years I’ve been recording a studio project with Club d’Elf that includes all the people I’ve mentioned, and Mark Sandman. I played in Mark’s band called The Hypnosonics, which predated Morphine. It was a “secret band” and we only got together when our schedules allowed it. Mark was a big supporter, and he influenced me as I formed Club d’Elf.
I’ve mixed five of the tracks from the project with Scotty Hard (Wu Tang Clan) in November, and I’m shopping that around. That’s the next phase—putting out the record. We’re planning to tour further and further from Boston. I play as many sessions as I can to support Club d’Elf.
BAJ: We’ve known one another long enough for me to establish the opinion that you have a very humble opinion of your musical approach. It’s not, at all, a false humility in any way… But you seem almost misunderstood by the world of listeners. This interests me! Please elaborate on your general musical concept and the direction you find yourself moving at this time in space.
MR: Well, to be misunderstood… means that I’m the topic of discussion, somewhere! (Laughter) I try not to play for my own amusement, and I try to play with a sense of egoless-ness. I have no agenda I need to support, and I don’t need to prove myself, to myself. It’s a matter of being inspired. If that means playing a whole note for an entire tune… that’s fine. I think technique is important, but I don’t want to play what’s in my head all of the time, as I, hopefully, mature…
What I work on more, is what I can leave out of my playing—creating more space. If I create a line for a song, what I try to do (and listening to a lot of dub and DJs inspires this) is imagining my part being manipulated, and having parts dropping in and out as I play them. I like to work in a process of subtraction in my lines. I’ll visualize a four-bar phrase, for example, and then begin dropping out on certain beats—creating space. Right now, creating space is more important to me than creating notes.
I’ve been listening to a lot of electronica and drum & bass groups. I’m processing sounds and highlighting elements in a way similar to casting a flashlight on something in a dark room—where you get a more surrealistic view of an object, than if you were to turn on the light.
Beside the groups We, Squarepusher, WagonChrist (Luke Vibert—also of Plug), and bassist/producer Bill Laswell I’ve been listening to Gnawa and Berber Music of Morocco. Brahim is from Morocco, and through him I’ve listened to a lot of music from Morocco through him. I’ve recently purchased a sintir (a 3-stringed bass lute used in Gnawan music) and I’ve begun practicing that instrument regularly. I’m really enjoying that!
I’ve also been actively involved in re-imprinting myself rhythmically to hear where the one is in these and other styles of Moroccan music. No instrument plays the one in Moroccan music, and it’s entailed a whole new way of listening and hearing music.
Most Moroccan music is in a slow 6/8 or 12/8 that’s easy to hear in 4. The first part, the triplet, and the last part of the second triplet—what the Western ear hears as one—is actually the third eighth note of the triplet. This study is what I’m listening to most recently, and its changed the way I hear music almost entirely.
BAJ: What is your ideal playing environment?
MR: Playing with musicians that really inspire me, and who I love playing with. Club d’Elf allows me to play with my friends and players who inspire me in this way. I also like playing to audiences who are receptive to the music – whether they dance or whatever…
BAJ: Give us a quick gear list, Micro.
MR: I’m playing a pair of Lakland (fretted and fretless) 5’s and a Lakland hollowbody on most of my recent gigs with d’Elf. I have a Lakland Joe Osborn, and I also have a mid-60’s Hofner solid-body that’s incredible! I recorded most of The Story sessions with a ’61 Jazz bass, a 66 Precision, and a ’76 stingray. Finally, I have a very cool Rossmeisle (built by Roger Rossmeisle) that’s a Beatle bass copy, and a Danelectro Longhorn. My upright basses are a ¾ Rheinhold Schmidt from 1900 that has a realist pickup (the Dave Holland bass), and I also have a ¾ Juzek.
I enjoy effecting the bass, and I use a lot of looping with my Gibson EPT Echoplex and also a JamMan. I play through an Ashley Power and a Demeter pre-amp… and several SWR cabinets. I’ve been using alligator clips on the strings, on both acoustic and electric basses, for the past few years. The clips throw a great chaos factor into my playing—like an organic ring modulator!
Well folks… There ya’ go! I had a great time talking to Micro! Check out Club d’Elf’s As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge) as soon as you can! It’s an incredible record that shows the absolute outside of what the bass can do, when it’s connected to great musical vision.
-Brent-Anthony Johnson
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Signal to Noise Magazine
Summer, 2001
Elfin Magic
Leading his ensemble Club d'Elf, bassist Mike Rivard alchemizes a unique strain of improvisational trance-dub, spiced with jazz, electronica, funk, and rock with a loose collective of friends from around the Boston area and beyond. At any given performance, the band might include such comfortable co-conspirators as keyboardist John Medeski, Peter Gabriel collaborator Brahim Fribgane on oud and doumbek, the late, lamented leader of Morphine, Mark Sandman, or the father-son free jazz team of Joe and Mat Maneri often in surprising combinations. "Like the show that Joe did," offers Rivard. "We also had [guitarist] Reeves Gabrels, who plays with David Bowie. Where else are you ever going to hear those guys play together?
As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge), Club d'Elf's recent debut release (a two-CD live anthology in deluxe packaging), captures a representative sampling of their detailed, neon-lit sound environment where turntables and triggered samples flit around the natural acoustics of clarinet, violin, oud, and accordion; where timeless Indian and Moroccan polyrhythms nest inside slinky, hip-hop groove; where the next turn might find the band sewn deeply in the pocket, or just as easily, teasing out some bizarre atonal curiosity.
"Creating the sort of moment that happens when you hear a really good joke," Rivard suggests. "Like when your expectations are going one way, and suddenly something else comes in totally out of the blue, but it fits, it works. I guess that's what I try to do with this music."
Mixing and matching musicians and genres in a seamless yet surprise-filled musical continuum seems to come naturally to the Berklee graduate, whose background includes stints in a variety of Boston-based ensembles: Russ Gershon's new-jazz big band the Either/Orchestra, indy-rockers The Walkers (who recorded an album for Atlantic that was never release), the Indo-African culture-blend of Natraj, and the folk/pop of The Story.
Offered a biweekly slot at Cambridge's Lizard Lounge in 1998, Rivard began to organize an inclusive, free-floating ensemble from these groups and others. Rivard had met Medeski, saxophonist Gershon, and trumpeter Tom Halter with the E/O, he'd worked with tabla player Jerry Leake and violinist Mat Maneri in Natraj, and guitarist Duke Levine and keyboardist Alain Mallet came into the fold via their association with the Story. Drummer Erik Kerr, another core member of the Club, had worked with Rivard in a band called the House of Brown: "It was a kind of quarter-tone piano thing with loops and samples," describes the bassist. "Eric was doing this Sonny Murray-meets-Clyde Stubblefield kind of drumming, really deep and dark. He's really someone who's not afraid to lay down the funk, but who can also open it up."
The way the group spins simple, rhythmically-oriented themes into expansive improvisations recalls Miles Davis' Dark Magus era, as does the presence of funky ostinatos, Indian percussion, and distorted guitar shredding. "It's certainly a strong reference point," admits Rivard. "A lot of reviewers cite that, like an On the Corner sort of vibe where other aspects of the music become more dominant than the melody or a chord sequence. Maybe it's the percussion that's stating the melody."
d'Elf's collection of themes serves as "a way to have everyone's feet in the same place, like here's where we're starting from, and here's where we trying to get to, and how you fill in the blanks is up to whoever we've gathered on that particular night. Obviously, I'm not going to put a chart in front of Joe Maneri." Compare the two versions of "Last Business" with its loping bass groove from the new CD and it's easy to hear how no two performances of the same tune sound very much alike.
The music's often dark mood, with snarling synthesized bass and roiling polyrhythmic undercurrents, is embodied in the group's namesake and imaginary mascot of sorts, an unsavory creature memorably hypothesized by Terence McKenna (who's eerily sampled on As Above's "Trance Meeting"). "He talks about these interdimensional machine elves, these mischievous little deities that one can come into contact with in certain states of mind, and having those sorts of experiences has been influential for me as a musician. But these aren't cute little elves, you know, if you say "Club d'Elf" really fast, it sounds like 'clubbed elf,' an elf that's been clubbed. Like, 'what's for dinner tonight, honey?' 'Clubbed elf.'"
If the comparison to Miles, the Prince of Darkness, brings to mind some hackneyed 70s jazz/funk throwback, think again. The presence of DJs Logic and C plus Jere Faison on sampler add another layer of sound, often ambiguous in origin, but thoroughly modern. And drummer Kerr frequently deploys incredible live jungle and drum-n-bass beats, organically suggesting echo and decay. Rivard explains how he began to develop an interest in contemporary electronic music about five years ago: "I did a tour with Paula Cole, and, as sort of an antidote to the music I was playing with her, I started seeking out all these different records, stuff that Bill Laswell was doing, DJ Shadow, Squarepusher."
The effervescent, springy electro-ephemera that courses through the band's music suggests a shared interest with the Chicago-based Tortoise/Isotope 217 post-rock axis, and also fit cleanly with the developing trance-fusion camp dominated by such bands as Philadelphia's Disco Biscuits, Baltimore's Lake Trout, and Georgia's Sound Tribe Sector 9. The new record is already a hit with college-aged jamband fans, who flocked to check out John Medeski's guest appearances and stuck around after Club d'Elf struck an appealing chord.
"We're getting out there and doing some of these hippie, jamband things," acknowledges Rivard, who's understandably excited about the opportunity to bring the groups music to the attention of such an expansive, active, and enthusiastic audience. "Like this 420 festival that we just did with [veteran drummer] Kenwood [Dennard]. He couldn't believe it. I mean this guy was in Brand X back in the day, playing with Jaco Pastorius and Pat Martino and all those guys, and to see all these young kids, dancing to fusion and jazz rock… You're used to having an audience coming out for this kind of music, you know, your sort of intellectual white guy, and now there are these girls in granny dresses dancing to it. Everybody's really open-minded and enthusiastic."
"I grew up listening to ZZ Top, Led Zeppelin, Humble Pie," says Rivard, by way of explaining his disdain of musical snobbery, "but I was also listening to Zappa and Captain Beefheart. Then I went through a phase where all I wanted to listen to was Sun Ra, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Steve Lacy, the Revolutionary Ensemble. What attracted me to both kinds of music was their energy level. I liked music where it sounded like the band meant it."
Unioning with the muse is ultimately Rivard's goal, and the diverse and dedicated personalities in Club d'Elf have occasionally succeeded in tapping into the supernatural sound-stream. "It was at the end of a show we did with Joe," says Rivard of "Divine Invasion," the new record's final track. "I had ended the song, and Joe kind of kept on playing this clarinet soliloquy, and then Mat started playing and everyone else sort of came in, and it was like this spirit just moved through the band. And like that, it was gone. For me that's the epitome of what we try to do, to get those kinds of energies flowing to the point where everyone's in tune and together. All the egos have been checked at the door and everyone's there to let the music come through us, and be a channel for it. I don't think we've ever achieved that better than at that particular point."
-Pete Gershon
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Jambase.com
May 30, 2001
A Great Night on Norfolk Street
It's still a few weeks before the heat truly descends on NYC, turning the remnants of garbage on the streets into it's annual glob of sour mash. For now, we're in a bit of a cold and wet spell but I find that all the more reason to transcend physical reality with a bit of live music! As much as a demotivator the drudgery of our recent climate's been, I popped on my headphones and hopped the subway down the lower east side last Wednesday. I was even more hesitant to go out because, even though they killed at the same venue a couple of months ago with John Medeski and DJ Logic, I didn't feel Club d'Elf at Wetlands when they opened for The Slip the weekend before Jazzfest. Too electric, not much of the unique voice they expressed at the previously mentioned Tonic gig but, then again, Medeski & Logic were only two of about a half dozen guests that rocked that little place that night. No worries, though. Not only was last Wednesday night one more set of proof that d'Elf owns Tonic, but it wasn't the only quality piece of group style musicianship on the block. Across the street, at Lansky Lounge, was the second night of an improv jam session with artists from a few different bands who know each other from the Boston/Berklee College scene. Bouncing back and forth across Norfolk St. proved to be one of the happiest nights of music I had in a while.
As soon as I walked into Tonic, I felt the same thrill from d'Elf that I did the first time. Characteristically for that venue, the set started half an hour late so I got there for the last song of the "8 o'clock" show. Brahim Fribqane was pickin' the hell out of his oud, complementing Mat Maneri's electric guitar tones on the violin while the rhythm section held a solid bottom for the sax player's more fiery jazz blurts. It was the last song and there was about 45 minutes til the next set so I went over to the Lansky. $5!!!! Yet another example of how unbelievably spoiled we are, and here's why: Matt Rubano (Ekene & the Source) on bass, Peter Stoltzman (KUDU) on keys, guitarist Dave Holmes (Actual Proof ), drummer Andy Siniese (Ekene & the Source) and Rich (whose last name I didn't get) on percussion Rich (no affiliation). Extremely talented guys getting it on in what I didn't know, at first, was a completely improvised show.
Before they played, Matt talked about using a different name every night they do this (there'll be regular Wednesday gigs at the Lansky all summer). I think the one they settled on that night was Pogma. Anyway, they pushed off with some electronic soundscapes built on a strong bass line that stood out from the more velveteen feel of the rest of the group and the dance beats made me think this was going to be just another electronica themed gig. WRONG! That theme smoothed out into some lounge jazz (which is perfect cuz the Lansky has a very chill vibe while not forgetting that a little touch of aesthetic consideration can help) and played with that for a while until Matt started kicking out a bassline that sounded very familiar. I confirmed that it was, indeed, the Beastie Boys' "Eggman." After talking to the band at set break, I found out that only Matt & Andy realized they were playing it. Andy grabbed the line and came in with that great flourish of beats I love at the point where Eggman opens up. They went with that for a while and then moved into some more jazz and a bit of funk. At that point, I noticed it was 11 and I hadn't heard more than a few minutes of d'Elf, which cost more than twice as much as the Lansky gig.
I walked into Tonic and my heart shot up the notches in my spine like it was propelled by a carnival hammer. Club d'Elf was in the middle of a solid Middle Eastern groove which is the style at the center of why I love them. I don't know of many bands that work in Middle Eastern style/tones so, when d'Elf does it, I get excited. If you know of anyone else who has this going on, please let me know. Band leader Mike Rivard was on the stand up bass and I really thought that instrument meshed better with their overall sound more than the electric bass he switched to later but they each worked very well. On both, though, Mike had a set of aligator clips which he attached to the strings (on the standup, they went just above the bridge and, on the electric, they went about 3 inches in front of his right fingers). He told me that they lend a touch of chaos, acting as a more natural modulator, because he never quite knows exactly what's going to come out when he pops them on. It sounded like it added a variance of fuzz to me but, then again, mine's not the most well trained ear. From the Middle Eastern swing they had going on when I got there, Club d'Elf moved into a lighter jazz groove. I was really impressed how solidly Rivard held the line together without falling into the trap of playing the same phrase over and over again. It's easy to get lulled into motion by that but Mike kept changing up the sequence and amount of notes he played, while not deconstructing the platform off of which Maneri and tenor saxophonist Eric Hipp were launching themselves. Hipp's style pretty much stayed in the realm of discordant jazz but that was nice because it balanced the rapid fluidity of Eric Kerr's dance beats on the kit. Most of the room was pretty chilled out, surprisingly, but there was another head not far from me who was grooving it out and we had a nice moment sharing how into it we were.
Club d'Elf's next piece turned into a drum and bass pump after Rivard switched to the electric. He very responsibly led the action, monitoring and mellowing the build of Kerr's drums and that Fribqane had going on the doumbek. This was where the action was at. Full force boogie. They showed an excellent sense of patience, staying together and extending the gradual upgrade of the pace until Rivard dropped out to let Hipp jump into the lead on top of the rhythm. They then shifted back to Mike and then Maneri came in on the violin but wasn't given as much room as Hipp before Mike came back and then they all came together to bring the show to it's finale. Rivard came to the mic to thank the crowd and asked, "was that tight?" The audience reaction was nothing less than extremely loud assent. Apparently, they'd been practicing for 7 days leading up to this gig and it was more than obvious.
The Lansky Lounge gig was supposed to go til 1:30am so I popped back across the street to find the musicians on set break. That's where I learned this was an improv gig and will be every week. Musicians crack me up. No matter how well they do, unless it's other-worldly, they're usually very humble about what goes down and the spontaneous nature of that night's play left them all a little unsure of themselves. What I heard before I left for d'Elf was solid and diverse so I was looking forward to whatever would come next. It was pretty relaxed cuz the room was filled with a few other musicians and a bunch of friendlies and I ended up out at the bar when the second set started. I was in the middle of a conversation about other upcoming shows and how varied the first set was when set # 2 started out with some latin beats and keytones. I say most of what they did was improv because there was one page of sheet music in front of Peter and a saxophonist they brought up.
At this point, Stu from Actual Proof was on bass, completely synergized with Dave which came as no surprise considering they're bandmates. He didn't lead the group as much as Matt did in the first set but that gave Peter more room to open it up. This was a treat for me because KUDU's context is more tonal, more hue than fill and this was the first time I heard him play with anyone else (outside of an impromptu jam session at Velour Music's studios a few weeks ago that was rudely cut short by the building's landlord). The piece wasn't all Latin, in fact, Dave & Stu didn't really stay in one place too long (stylistically speaking) and Andy got up most of the way through the song and gave up the kit to a guy named Eli. Another distinct difference in style! Eli was crisp and worked the metal more, blending with the dominant theme but adding a bit more of a jazz swing on top. When the song was over, the sheet music was passed back and I noted that the title on it was "Brazilian Dorian Dream." Very nice work.
The next jam seemed more with the improv motif. Dave Holmes built some ambience and Actual Proof's keyboardist took Peter's place, running some sliding scales a lot more than the single hits that Peter was up to. They established a nice flow in this extended work in progress which supressed the rhythm but then let it back up as Peter jumped in with another piece of percussion and the arc grew in trajectory. When the energy peaked and edged down the slope, I realized it was after 1am and a school night so I hit a cab after a quick caucus in the parking lot across the street.
Why should I be so surprised? I'm not really. This kind of stuff happens all the time in this city but it never ceases to be remarkable to me. I woke up in a dream of the moment with all of you present and I hope we all continue to appreciate the artists, and each other, as we have been.
Having a treasure trove's worth of artists in this city is a never ending coffer that pays off every night of the week and, in this case, will do so every Wednesday for the next few months. Sir Joe Russo will be back on drums this week so you can be guaran-damn-teed that it's going to be HOT! Even if you can't double your pleasure with whatever's going on across the way at Tonic, this improv gig at the Lansky Lounge is so fresh and interesting that you won't bemoan only having one show to check out.
Club d'Elf will be doing their every other Thursday show at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, MA starting from May 31st through July. I heard these gigs are routinely packed and their Tonic shows are a great indication why. Between their proficiency in that room and the ever-lengthening list of collaborating artists they can jam with, I hope they soon establish a similar residency in New York.
- Howie Greenberg
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Boston Phoenix
May 18, 2001
Best Music Poll
Best Local DJ/Electronic Act: Club d'Elf
Groovin'
It's a testament to Club d'Elf versatility that they were nominated in two Best Music Poll categories this year-Best Local Jam Band and DJ/Electronic-and they probably could have fit into a couple more. Led by bassist Mike Rivard, this loose collective of musicians from all over the stylistic map lets rock, jazz, world, funk, and electronica collide in time-stretching live performances. It's not DJ/electronic music in the traditional sense, but Club d'Elf's globally-minded groove music would be unimaginable without the past decade of binary-based sounds. Not only because they employ samplers, turntablists, and racks of sound-sculpting effects, but also because they've ingested the spirit and approach of electronica. Bringing high-wire improvisation to jungle, trip-hop, funk, and dub, Club d'Elf uses long-form repetitive structures and interlocking rhythmic grids to induce trance-like states of suspended animation.
After a three-year residency at Cambridge's cozy Lizard Lounge, this past year Club d'Elf finally released their debut album, As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge) (Live Archive). Then Rivard took the show on the road, hooking up with long-time friend John Medeski for a successful tour of the Northeast.
Though you can still find Rivard and Co. holding court at the Lizard a couple of Thursdays a month, they've been branching out to other area clubs as of late, bringing their mind-expanding excursions to the uninitiated.
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Northeast Performer
April, 2001
Club d'Elf
On occasion, the Columbus Theater in Rhode Island puts on its best face. A Sunday in February was one such example. Instead of movies featuring surgically enhanced breasts and actors named Candie and Dirk, a bass player named Mike Rivard was steering his improvisational trance-dub band, Club d'Elf, into the third night of a six-show tour. Devoteés of improvised and experimental music filed into the theater and took care to choose a clean seat. Club d'Elf, more music collective than a "band," has over the last two and a half years taken up residence at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, MA, as a continuing group exploration of trance, dub, jazz, and West African music. While the group features a core lineup of Rivard on bass, Jerry Leake on tablas and percussion, Jere Faison on sampler, and Erik Kerr on drums, an eye-opening revolving cast if guest musicians, including Reeves Gabrels, DJ Logic, John Medeski, and Kenwood Dennard has complemented the group on its quest.
"We're looking to provide an environment that's musically challenging and satisfying for ourselves as well as creating music that is more than just providing fodder for dancing or listening. There's a spiritual constituent to what we're doing with the trance aspect, and we try to tap into that energy." Inspired by the likes of Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band, Miles Davis, and Bill Laswell, Rivard says that Club d'Elf started simply enough with a friend who was booking for the Lizard Lounge. "I was looking for more playing opportunity for myself and the people that I like to play with. So I suggested a night of improvisational music based on pre-arranged grooves and a dub, trance, and drum-n-bass aspect.
The group's first-ever tour took place in February, but the jump from home to foreign, and sometimes cavernous, spaces took some extra concentration. "The great thing about the Lizard Lounge is that the environment allows us to play in a semi-circle, so all the musicians can be looking at each other, which is pretty important. It's a little bit of a challenge to recreate that on various stages. It was nice to play on consecutive nights with the same musicians and see how different pieces evolve. The different spaces and the different crowds made the music come out in different ways."
Club d'Elf's epic two-disc live album, As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge), is one of the more remarkable records released locally in quite some time. The group's first album serves up highlights of six sessions recorded over a year's worth of performances at the Lizard Lounge.
Consider it bass and drum (as opposed to electronica's drum-n-bass) since the one constant thread is Rivard's slinking bass lines and the core rhythms of drumset, percussion, and miscellaneous atmospherics. Points of reference include Medeski, Martin, and Wood's groove, the Mahavishnu Orchestra's controlled chaos, and Mingus' The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady for its group song dynamics, as opposed to simple springboards for endless soloing. Clocking in at nearly two and a half hours, As Above demands an investment of your time, albeit a highly-recommended one.
To get you started, check out "Actual Smiles," "As Above," "In a Perfect World," and "Last Business (dub)". Mingus' bass-player-as-bandleader concept is appropriate. Rivard prods, redirects, and supports his partners in crime throughout the entire album, steering jazz excursions into oud solos, letting funk rhythms battle it out with polyrhythms until the latter wins, the victory cemented with crisp Afropop guitars. While performing, it's fair to say the Rivard is an on-stage producer, usually giving subtle nods to individual band members, one-by-one fine-tuning the piece.
The tone of the disc is set by the opener, "Now I Understand," in which the listener is lulled in by jungle ambience, only to be blindsided by a simple but absolutely perfect bass figure with drums, percussion, and turntable, the song finally burning itself out with a wailing sax over keyboard flourishes. Rivard and company are not a studio rhythm section that exists simply to show off their chops; rather the guests seamlessly work their way into the mix for the purpose of creating a greater whole. "It's a music that's created by a community who are all listening and caring about what each other is playing," Rivard says. "Developing a group voice is paramount."
It's a modern Dixieland approach, in that everyone is soloing but not soloing. Everyone is part of the texture and creating space for everyone else. "The concepts of African music are very important to me in that there is a cumulative rhythm where each person is playing a part, and, when you listen to it as a whole, you hear this incredible churning rhythm. Each person is not playing the entire thing-they're leaving spaces. One person will play this part that interlocks with everything else."
Forget traditional song structure here. Each piece starts, develops, twists, gets lost, found, and then turns to end up somewhere else entirely. Says Rivard, "It's hard to say how much is improv and how much is composition because it changes from night to night. I work on most of the compositions with different members of the group-and work out the rhythmic concepts pretty thoroughly, and that allows a lot to open up on the top. Sometimes there are melodies with the tunes-but the idea is to make it different every night. The songs are a pathway to get us all into the same collective space so the improvisations can go from there."
The Providence show was lightly attended, which was a shame because the evening included Rivard, Mat Maneri, John Medeski, Brahim Fribgane, Erik Kerr, DJ Flack and DJ C. Highlights included Fribgane's mesmerizing oud playing, Maneri's violin excursions, Medeski's rhythmic keyboard blasts, and Rivard's consistently creative bass work. Maneri at times stared into the hall, hand shading his eyes from the overhead lights as if he were surveying a vast, empty landscape. However, this was the one performance that wasn't a near sell-out. As the disc gets circulated and the word spreads, the numbers of the converted will certainly grow. A note for Boston fans who wait in line for hours at the Lizard Lounge: Providence is only 40 minutes away.
"I've got a studio record that I've been working on for the last two and a half years," says Rivard, "All the people that have been involved with Club d'Elf over the years-Mark Sandman, John Medeski, DJ Logic-all these people played on it. And I'm just going to keep touring, keep breaking away, and getting to new audiences."
The uninitiated may make the mistake of prematurely dismissing Club d'Elf as another unlistenable exercise in free-jazz wankery, but understand this: the music is based on a highly-melodic trance-groove. Perhaps the greatest lesson of Club d'Elf is that, as Rivard time and time again proves, musical salvation resides in a bass line.
-Pete Hanlon
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Bass Player Magazine
April 2001 Issue
CLUB D'ELF
As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge
[Live Archive]
Didjeridoo and turntable players - and even an accordianist - show up on this two-CD set, but no matter whom he's working with, Rivard keeps things moving with his springy, big-toned playing. Recorded over a period of months, the live collection contains groove-oriented trance jams featuring fusion -influenced free improvisation.
-Harvey Pekar
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NYROCK
March 22, 2001
Street Beat
Club d'Elf
As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
If you watched the Ken Burn's Jazz special on PBS, you might have thought jazz was headed for the graveyard after ailing for the last 30 or 40 years. But dry your eyes, and don't believe everything you see or hear. Club d'Elf went public in 1998 at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge, and has slowly and steadily built a following, both on and offstage. Bassist Mike Rivard is the frontman for this free-flowing group, a sort of jazz/trance groove open jam that attracts some major players. You'll hear the pros who've played with Bowie, the Stones, Miles Davis, Sting, Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel, and Ornette Coleman (just to name afew) sitting in and going wild. There's sampling, scratching, and all sorts of aural fireworks across the two CDs here. You tend to lose track of time while listening. And that's way cool.
-Bill Ribas
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Philadelphia City Paper
March 8, 2001
Disc
Dance/Electronica
Club d'Elf
As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
In Philadelphia we get our instrumental improv fix from Slipping Into Sublimity. Up in Cambridge, MA, they've got Club d'Elf - an ever changing, jazzy, dubbed-out hodgepodge performing the bi-weekly groove ritual they initiated in 1998 at the Lizard Lounge. The red-lit basement holds around 120 people, with the band set up amid the audience. The outcome is like DJ Spooky jamming with some soulful white boys or a spaced-out Herbie Hancock exchanginf timbres with Tortise. Founder and bassist Mike rivard surrounds himself with dexterous instrumentalists yielding trip-hop-ish drum beats, worldly percussion and colorful processed samples and electronics. Several notable guest musicians drop in on this double-disc collection: Reeves gabrels on guitar; DJ Logic on turntables; Mat and Joe Maneri on smooth sax, clarinet and violin; Dr. Didg's didgeridoo; Brahim Fribgane on oud and doumbek, plus much more. To witness d'Elf's live outings would undoubtedly be mesmerizing; Luckily for us the folks at Live Archive were able to capture some astonishingly warm-sounding specimens from these intimate and now legendary gatherings.
-Sean O'Neal
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Jambase.com
March 3, 2001
Club d'Elf/2.28.01/New York City
I sometimes like to pretend I'm listening to a song I've heard a few hundred times as if it was the first. Like I'm someone I gave a CD or tape to check out and examine each note with a fresh point of view. But it doesn't quite match the exhiliration of really experiencing a band I've never checked out before. Especially when it's one preceded by a torrent of positive word of mouth. Sure, that floats all over about different groups and taste is subjective. There was just something about the seriousness conveyed every time someone mentioned Club d'Elf that led me to believe this was going to be for real. Anytime I see John Medeski & DJ Logic sitting in with anyone, I have to assume that they have chops and not as some bar of judgement but more my sense of their desire to exist at a certain power level of creative force. I've witnessed that time and time again in Medeski, Martin & Wood, Project Logic and their various other gigs. In the end, though, the lion's share of Club d'Elf's efforts at Tonic the other night were carried mightily by people that most of us have probably never heard of before.
They opened with no sustainable beat, just feeling around with a slightly stronger murmur popping up here and there. Nothing broke out of the low fog they seemed to be developing. Club d'Elf founder Mike Rivard crept in with a five note blueprint that drew Logic on top to kick up the energy. This was met and increased even higher by special guest Joe Maneri on alto saxophone. Seated front and center, Joe was the elder statesman of the group. He held the lead in their efforts whenever he let loose on the alto or tenor sax, clarinet or vocals that ranged from English to gibberish to what sounded like a Middle Eastern dialect. Joe upped the stakes for that first tune as easily as you'd flip a switch. His squeaking sax and clarinet were grounded by some old school, 70's type funk phatness by Rivard that were sharpened by Logic's cuts. It all blended into some wild progressive jazz construction fueled by the bass and percussion which was handled by Erik Kerr on the kit and Brahim Fribqane on doumbek, both d'Elf regulars. To the side, I could swear I heard the softer string expressions of an electric guitar but I could swear I didn't see one so I had to get closer. When I got up front, I found Mat Maneri running a bow over an electric 6 string violin tuned to sound as if it was one of our many rippers.
As the energy of the chaotic jam built, Joe fed some improv'd vocals into his mic that reminded me of some of the more interesting characters I've found wandering the subway system. That took us to the point where the jam unravelled, leaving only the drummer kickin' it quickly on the hat while everyone went back to the beginning contemplation. The doumbek was perfectly mic'd so I could hear every detail off Fribqane's fingertips. It stood out all the more in the midst of Medeski's extended spaces and led to an instant lift of energy by Eric Kerr through a strong line of dancebeats. The rest of the song proceeded through the acid/progressive jazz area on a bass heavy groove held together by the percussion. On top, Medeski's dreamy tones floated around the high pitched nature of the sax, clarinet and violin until they reached the end of the second arc and tailed off.
Rivard grabbed a mic at that point to introduce everyone but I didn't get a full sense of what this act's about (peoplewise) until I got to their thorough website [www.clubdelf.com]. Beyond the five core players, there are 48 "special guests," "rotating cast" and "occasional conspirators" who range around just about every instrument you could desire. I've heard that their regular gigs in Cambridge, MA focus more on them which can be heard on their first release, Live at the Lizard Lounge.
This was the point where they invited up a second saxophone player and trombonist but the opening direction of the piece was taken by Fribqane on the oud, a ten-string acoustic instrument of Persian origin. The Eastern theme was off on the energy of his hands, complimented by Joe's clarinet which reminded me of a Bar Mitzvah. They kept it going for a while on the drums and bass while the horns, keys and violin stepped out for varying intervals to go in independent directions or pairs or trios. The beat turned tribal at that point and Joe was feeling it to the point that he put down his instruments and spouted another mix of language into the mic. It came from his throat as if he was calling from a hill and his voice was met by Mat Maneri's cry from a clay roof at sunset. When they climaxed and turned away from that groove, the crowd was too stunned to give an ovation that was certainly due. That awe set over the audience for the rest of the show.
Rivard's crawling residual on the bass linked the movements. The next began with some dark sounding, spread out single notes. This spaced it out a bit but they soon turned right back into the progressive orchestra they seemed at their highest levels in the first song (but with two more horns!). The horns were in the spotlight at that point, smoothing things out into more of a coherent melody. The beat of that movement isn't one I can clearly peg to one genre or another but I can tell you that it was in tune with the audience's need to move. The crowd and the band interacted seemlessly like that all night, reacting to one another as the energies built and tailed off, up, higher, down, higher and higher - swinging the continuous arch further and further.
They ended the set with another jazz based groove and were beckoned heartily for an encore that they provided happily. The line was already brimming for the late show and each expectant face was met by smiles passing by them on the way out. Some people stayed on for the second show and some headed over to the Wetlands to catch Robert Randolph, Topaz and Wayne Krantz. In total, I spent $12 to see four extremely inspirational groups of musicians thanks to the "man on the scene." (caw, caw). The cost relative to what the music's giving me is so criminally low I'll be hopping the train up to Westchester to ask Bubba for a pardon.
Toward the end of the set, they brought up a singer. The vocals were a little lost through the sound system but I got the gist of it as street poetry. He was testifying about heart and soul and the trials of his existence mixing ponderings, declarations and possible answers. The band continued behind him creating a greater challenge of taking it all in and took it a long way. Both the vocalist and the players had a lot to say and we were very happy to hear it all.
Club d'Elf will be playing back at the Lizard Lounge on the 8th and 22nd of March so drop on in if you're in the area or make the trip cuz it'll be totally worth it. With the potential variations astronomically high, I can't wait to see what different form they'll take the next time I can check them out.
-Howie Greenberg
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Boston Phoenix
March 1 , 2001
Live & On Record
Miles of Music: Club d'Elf
A week ago Thursday Club d’Elf celebrated both the release of its debut disc, As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge (Live Archive), and three years of regular performances at the intimate Mass. Ave. nightspot. And as if that weren’t enough to pack the Lizard, the program featured keyboard virtuoso John Medeski of Medeski Martin & Wood, whose presence guarantees both a capacity crowd and an impeccable standard of musicianship.
Not that Club d’Elf needs him. The success of the bi-weekly residency is due in part to the way Mike Rivard surrounds himself with local rock and jazz musicians who can take the simplest of materials — a rhythm vamp, a melodic fragment — and stretch them into epic and hypnotic experiments. The line-up Thursday included roots guitarist Duke Levine, drummer Erik Kerr, percussionist/oud-player Brahim Fribgane, and the free-jazz father-and-son duo Mat and Joe Maneri on violin and reeds, plus Rivard on bass and Medeski on keyboards. The particulars are important, because the mood, the outlook, and the success of this type of music — a sort of pan-ethnic, jazz-dub-funk-electro-rock fusion — hinges on the qualities and the personalities of the players.
Depending on the night, Club d’Elf can be ethereal or evil, funky or flippant, dense or discordant. Maybe it was the effect of their having driven up from New York in a light snowstorm, but the crew were in an especially ragged mode last Thursday. The vamps were typically deep and rock solid, but they often exploded into shitstorms of squawk and skronk. The Maneris and Medeski led the way into the out-there, engaging in a three-way musical conversation that had all the anger and power of a lovers’ quarrel. They prodded and poked one another relentlessly. Joe Maneri traced elliptical sax or clarinet arguments in the air. Mat Maneri bowed distorted violin growls. And Medeski jutted in with keyboard fluctuations that had more to do with trashy stompbox abuse than with jazz piano skills.
Despite these moments of unstructured improvisation, Club d’Elf is still a controlled experiment. Rivard stood at the center of the circle and directed the music with his bass and his hands: segues, riffs, entrances, exits, shifts. When the groove was fairly continuous, he acted like a dub producer, raising and lowering different instruments in the mix. With a few brief motions he could bring Fibgane’s intricate dumbek drumming to the fore or pair off members of the group into intimate duets. It’s a form of improvisational arranging that gives individual musicians time to shine yet keeps the music focused and direct.
Rivard also knew when to step back and let the players find their own way — which usually led to some sort of full-bore, hair-raising freakout. At those times, the music most resembled the psychedelic smear of Miles Davis in the ’70s. Which makes sense. Club d’Elf is a contemporary take on the fusion experiments of Miles Davis’s Live Evil or On the Corner — just substitute turntables, samplers, synthesizers, and jungle breakbeats for Miles’s sitars, Fender Rhodes, and wah-wah trumpet. In each case you get an expansive, improvised style of rhythm-based music where form and melody are less important than texture, timbre, and sound. And that also connects Club d’Elf to the wave of anti-ego, post-rock, pro-groove thinking that’s infected the American musical landscape, from indie rock to electronica to the neo-hippie scene. Club d’Elf’s advantage is that it stands somewhere in the middle, influenced by all those genres but committing to none.
-Michael Endleman
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Enetronic. com
Club d'Elf
As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge)
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
Club d`Elf, for those of you who've never heard of them, is a live electro/rock/jazz outfit from Massachusetts fronted by veteran bassist Mike Rivard. These guys effortlessly blend dub, jazz, funk, reggae, and world music, with all genres of electronica to form a truly original sound. And they do it all live! Their debut double-CD, As Above (Live at The Lizard Lounge), is a brilliant piece of free-form fusion containing performances by a giant cast of talented musicians including Duke Levine on guitar, Kenwood Dennard on drums, and DJ Logic cutting the wax, among others. All of the songs on this double album, and there are tons, really groove. It`s like Greyboy All-Stars meets Medeski, Martin, and Wood with a little pinch of Phish thrown in for good measure. Songs like "Left Hand of Clyde" and "Last Business" show off their jazzy side, while "Shadow`s Shift" and "So Below" have a real electronic feel to them. This isn`t an album that can be explained though; it has to be experienced first hand. There`s too much stuff going on to describe it all. All I can say is that I was blown away by the cohesiveness of this unit. Playing with guest musicians, especially this many of them, can sometimes get a little jumbled, but these guys pull it off without a hitch. As far as I`m concerned, this is the future of music. Check out this album, and check them out on tour when they come to your town—you won`t be disappointed.
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AllAboutJazz.com
March 1, 2001
As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge)
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
The groove runs deep and long on As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge), a 2-disc set from Club d'Elf. Voyaging through realms of electronica, ethnic percussion, and dirty funk, As Above pays exquisite attention to the beat. The 2+ hours of collected music on this set document the highlights of five months' worth of live improv at Boston's Lizard Lounge. (OK, so it's actually in Cambridge, but what's a hop across the river in the grand scheme of things?) Ringleader (bassist) Mike Rivard hosts a series of local jams--with due attention to composition, instrumentation, and so forth. And in addition to the regular members of this group, various guests sit in for individual performances. While one might expect a compilation of such diverse live events to be jumpy or uneven, this set displays remarkable cohesion.
At the same time, As Above is certainly not for everyone. The group displays an unabashed disrespect for fixed idioms. For example, on "Beneath the Underground," avant saxophonist Joe Maneri finds a place wailing alongside Bowie guitarist Reeves Gabrels. (The liner notes dub Maneri as a "portly, bearded medicine man." Perhaps the audio recording does not do justice to the dynamic imagery of the original event...) Periods of trance-like quietude can overturn at a moment's notice and give rise to edgy free funk. But somehow the nucleus of the group keeps everything tied down in a very delicate balancing act. And with the reverent preservation of the beat, the music keeps moving forward.
Track Listing:
Disc One: Now I Understand; Shadow's Shift; Actual Smiles; Left Hand of Clyde (parts 1,2,3); Meet the Monster Tonight; Claude Raines Revisited; Last Business (dub); D'Empty Dance; So Below.
Disc Two: Get a Little Turning; Intro/Bass Beatbox; In a Perfect World; Route of the Root; As Above; Beneath the Underground; Buzz; Taurobolium; Trance Meeting; Last Business; Divine Invasion.
Personnel: Mike Rivard, Erik Kerr, Jere Faison, Jerry Leake, Tom Hall, Brahim Fribgane, Kenwood Dennard, Reeves Gabrels, Duke Levine, Ian Kennedy, Alain Mallet, DJ Logic, Mat Maneri, Joe Maneri, DJ C, Eric Hipp, Tom Halter, Dr. Didg, Roberto Cassan.
-Nils Jacobson
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PauseRecord.com
February 20-26, 2001
CD of the Week:
Club d'Elf's As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge) 2 CD Set
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
Terrence McKenna used to speak about the "alien machine elves" one could meet in certain circumstances that could introduce one to the realms of universe(s) the usual conscious world block out. Club D'Elf seems intent upon bringing those same revelations to people through sounds rather than (or in addition to) recreational chemistry.
Club d'Elf is a Boston-based sonic experiment led by bassist Mike Rivard (aka Micro Vard) at the subterranean Lizard Lounge. Rivard brings together an ever changing cast of professional players into a completely improvisational setting that fuses avant jazz with jungle, trance, ambient techno, groove, world music and more. Rivard's characters include players that have earned their keep gigging with the likes of David Bowie, Either/Orchestra, Peter Gabriel, Miles, Maceo, Morphine, Paul Simon, Paquito D'Rivera, and Mary Chapin Carpenter, among others, as well as folks like DJ Logic (who scratches on several tracks here), Dr. Didg, and John Medeski.
Recorded live, often without the benefit of anybody but the rhythm section knowing where this was going or why, this a two-disc set that proves the best jams are truly improvised extemporaneously, not mere soloing over chord changes. Club D'Elf's bottom keeps to rhythms one could dance to, or at least tap the toes to, while at the same time getting alternately or simultaneously groovy and abstract and often abandoning melody completely. Loops and samplers add technology to the otherwise organic stew, which is as likely to explore something Moroccan as something from the "avante-freak free-jazz" world. Not every cut is as compelling as the best of them here, but the overall picture sounds great. This is what to listen to very late at night, on the road between shows, when you want something truly original, clearly live (warts and all), that would be impossible to memorize well enough to ever predict. Which is to say when the alien machine elves are at play.
-da Flower Punk
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Providence Phoenix
February 23, 2001
8 Days a Week
Sometimes, regardless of style, you can feel a sense of community in a piece of music. As I let the rough mixes of Club d'Elf's As Above (Live Archive) drift around the house for a long weekend, it became obvious that collaboration is the center of the group's trance funk. Make that space-dub trance funk-there's a fair amount of meteorite debris that splats down on the Middle Eastern sandstorms. Here's the community I'm talking about: Up in Cambridge, bassist Mike Rivard established a biweekly residency at the Lizard Lounge, convening pals like keybster John Medeski, violinist Mat Maneri, and oud maestro Brahim Fribgane; DJ Flack and saxophonist Tom Hall were also along for the ride. The looseness was formalized, and a record was made. If you recall how the blending of musicians from the Knitting Factory, Sun Ra's Arkestra, and Phish did their thing on Surrender to the Air, you'll have a feeling for the improv-driven amorphousness of d'Elf. The guys are hitting the road, and, on their way to New York, they're stopping at the Columbus Theatre (270 Broadway, Providence). If you're the experimental type, you'll need to be there. And if you're not, the warmth and cogency of this groove unit might just turn you into one. Tickets are $15. Call 831-9327.
-Jim Macnie
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The Boston Phoenix
February 23, 2001
Pick of the Week: Club d'Elf
Thursday, February 22: Bassist Mike Rivard (a/k/a Micro Vard) was ahead of the curve in anticipating that DJ culture and the neo-hippie funk/jam-band scene had more in common than they might've thought-for instance, an emphasis on long-form tactile/sensory excursions, spontaneous generation and combustion, and trance-like states of suspended animation. Those have been a few of the hallmarks of Rivard's Club d'Elf, which consists of a rotating line-up of constantly innovative improvisers, DJs, and top-notch guests performing collaborative "live remixes of rehearsed grooves." The group's two-year residency at the Lizard Lounge has finally borne collective fruit, in the form of a double live CD, As Above: Live at the Lizard Lounge, recorded with guest including John Medeski (of Martin and Wood fame), Reeves Gabrels, and DJ Logic. To celebrate the disc's release, the group embarks on a brief tour-with Medeski along-that kicks off tonight (February 22) at the Lizard Lounge, 1667 Mass. Ave. in Cambridge. Medeski and Rivard are joined by Mat & Joe Maneri, Duke Levine, and regulars Brahim Fribgane and Erik Kerr.
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Stuff @ Night
2/13/2001
Groove Chemistry: Feelin' the Love from Club d'Elf
Question: What do The Simpsons, Saturday Night Live, and Club d'Elf have in common? Answer: more than you might think, according to Club d'Elf bassist and bandleader Mike Rivard, who credits a man named George Meyer-along with James Brown, Parliament-Funkadelic, and the music of North Africa-as a major inspiration for his art.
Meyer, a critically acclaimed writer for The Simpsons and Saturday Night Live, is "the most subversive man in America," says Rivard. "I admire him tremendously. He once described comedy as 'reframing reality.' He said that great comedy is that sense of being led to a certain series of expectations, and then something that you hadn't even thought of is revealed. It has to do with leading the brain to a certain place and then turning the tables-'pulling the rug.'"
"I think, more than anything else, that's what I try to do with Club d'Elf-reframe reality in the sense that all great comedy does for me," Rivard continues. "That's what we do musically. We might start out with a certain groove where people think 'Oh, this is going to go down that particular avenue,' and then suddenly it becomes this electronica thing or a drum-n-bass thing, or this rhythm rises up out of the music that you had no idea was in there."
Over a cup of tea inside the decidedly earthy confines of the Coffee Cantata in Jamaica Plain, Rivard is attempting to pinpoint the elements that make up the otherworldly dynamic of his constantly morphing band of improvisational thrill-seekers. As attested by the liner notes to his group's new double-CD set of live material, As Above (Live Archive), Club d'Elf began as an open-ended experiment three years ago. At the time, Rivard-a veteran session and touring musician who had played with such local luminaries as the Either/Orchestra, the Story, and Paula Cole-hit upon the idea of assembling a congregation of friends every other week at the Lizard Lounge for a series of improvisational performances that would incorporate everything from avant-funk to dub-dosed trance to art rock to DJ-driven acid jazz to well, you name it.
As Above, culled from six nights at the Lizard Lounge and featuring performance by such heavy-hitting guests as guitarist Reeves Gabrels (David Bowie, Rolling Stones), drummer Kenwood Dennard (Miles Davis, Gil Evans, Jaco Pastorius, Sting), and oud master and percussionist Brahim Fribgane (Peter Gabriel, Morphine), among many others, well documents Club d'Elf's dazzling musical palette. Even as an edited snapshot of the bands best moments ("where everything was really connecting," says Rivard), each disc runs at more than 73 minutes, offering breathtaking peaks and sublime valleys that make up the group's musical universe. (The second of the ensemble's pair of CD-release parties, on February 22 at the Lizard Lounge, is scheduled to feature guest appearances by John Medeski, DJ Logic, and Reeves Gabrels.) Although none of the Club d'Elf participants had played together before their nights at the Lizard Lounge, Rivard says, "I had a fairly good idea of who they are as musicians and what they like to do and what sort of musical environments they thrive in."
"I'd rehearse the rhythmic concepts pretty thoroughly with the drummers and percussionist," he adds, "to keep it all together from the bottom up. When you have the rhythmic structure below, it's amazing the diversity that can happen up top. You can steer it in different directions, and I looked at it as if each person is a fader on a console-thinking about it in terms of the dub aspect and what happens to the groove when you take one element away. Suddenly, you just bring it down to the snare or the organ and it just changes the whole focus of the piece. You get this very different perception."
So what does it take to get everybody on the same page when part of the point is free-associative exploration? "A lot of it is through the chemistry of the grooves," says Rivard. "A lot if it is hard to describe in concrete analytical terms because it's all due to such ethereal elements as how one is feeling one night: maybe this guy's gear is not acting well, and maybe this guy just had a fight with his girlfriend, and maybe this guy has to play a certain way to get through his demons-but you get a pretty good idea of how people work together."
As for his own preferred frame of mind during a performance, Rivard pauses for a moment. "It's not particularly hip to describe it," he says, "but I guess it comes down to love-loving the people you're playing with, loving who you're playing for, and just hoping that in some way you're creating something of beauty. But it's also that I love to laugh. I love something in the music that makes me smile." And as if remembering that line by George Meyer, he does.
-Johnathan Perry
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Jambands.com
February 1, 2001
As Above (Live at the Lizard Lounge)
(Grapeshot Media/Live Archive)
"One can read Blake and have read Milton, Shakespeare, I mean everything. He can be considered the anthologizer of British Literature. Talk about New Criticism at its finest; how Eliot despised his work remains a goddamn mystery to me." [Overheard at a recent literature seminar.] Resting between the nascent lines attempting to consciously separate musical idioms, the world's finest sonic creations exist. Such ineffable formations, while existing on their own grounds, cannot avoid the myths and symbols established around their nebulous core. Acts like God Speed You Black Emperor!, Isotope 217 and Elysian Fields - to name a select few - reside in such tumultuous and enigmatic environments, where Mahler, Bach and Stravinsky often coincide with Mazzy Star, John Coltrane, Radiohead and Jurassic 5. Their music cannot be given a new label, ushering in dialogic and literary analysis to comprehend their esoteric intellectual fortitude, for they construct work "within," not on a given musical paradigm's outer rim. However, by choosing such an interesting area of residence and metier the artwork contains vitality and depth, seemingly unrelated to their Foucaultvian established counterparts.
An exemplar: Club d'Elf, who not only practice within such hazy, inexplicable domains, but seemingly add an element of Bakhtin by including a multitude of effervescent, contemporary, psychologically germane voices. Club d'Elf consists of Mike Rivard and any cohorts who decide to embark with him into perilous sonic chimeras. Whether DJs (Logic or C), horn players (Tom Hall, Joe Maneri, Eric Hipp and Tom Halter), percussionists (Brahim Frigbane, Erik Kerr or Kenwood Dennard), guitar (Duke Levine, Ian Kennedy and Reeves Gabriel) and anything else (Dr. Didg, Mat Maneri, Roberto Cassan and Jere Faison) the music portends specific genres but sidesteps any compartmentalization. As the live two-CD set moves through varying electronic movements and reaches specific, mesmerizing crescendos, reggae, Latin, trance, jungle, Indian and Sephoric paradigms float through the musical maelstrom. Dictating which sounds establish a greater precedent and thus supplying the listener with a facile exegesis remains unattainable and even unsatisfying. Considering the multiple voices and sentiments all expressed by the given soloists becomes detrimental to the music's perseity. Calling the music electronica based on the New Deal-esque "Left Hand of Clyde" would alienate and conceivably obviate Joe Maneri's holy, Judaic worshipping on "Intro/Beatbox": a devastating consequence.
Each disc contains musically pleasing tracks, despite their ineffable nature. On the whole album, two tracks will entrance the jamband front: "Actual Smiles" and "Left Hand of Clyde"; both on CD one. "Actual Smiles" yields some of DJ Logic's more intellectually timed samples and scratches. As the music bubbles along, similar to Miles Davis' "In a Silent Way", Logic's turntable antics yield a reggae dub effect, thus forcing the Davis comparisons towards Lee "Scratch" Perry. Languid and sonically inebriating, "Actual Smiles" sounds like previous explorations, but remains unexplainable or even adequately understandable. Equally intriguing, "Left Hand of Clyde" starts off with a plausible New Deal hook, before becoming James Brown funky. After some quick and forceful guitar scratching by Duke Levine, Mark Rivard takes a bass solo, which leads into a enigmatic segment which sounds remarkably similar to KVHW's "Samba", except Levine's guitar playing seems more precise and less soporific than the infamous Bay Area guitarist.
As Above's unexplainable and neurotic nature can be somewhat understood given the process which instigated these recordings. According to the liner notes, Rivard asked certain people to show up at the Lizard Lounge, a venue so small that ideas of monitors and PAs are irrelevant. After assembling, the group simply played music and followed their capricious fancies. Everyone had to listen intently to their neighbor and reach a quick point of cohesion where rhythms and melodies became intuitive. Certain tracks, which were actually tabulated, still became skewed by the given company, as the two versions of "Last Busine"ss (one dub-like, the other a jazz/hip-hop piece) readily prove. While certain music fans may buy the As Above based on Logic's inclusion, the album's 160 minutes worth of music becomes a compendium for the last fifty years of music. Meaning everything from John Zorn to Chemical Brothers to bebop to John Cage to King Sunny Ade sonically exists on As Above, which blasphemously makes Club d'Elf a modern day William Blake.
-Christopher Orman
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Improper Bostonian
January 31-February 13, 2001
Elf Power
Club d'Elf's revolving cast of genre-splicing virtuosos get submolecular onstage and on disc.
Musicians gather in a circle around Mike Rivard's pulsing electric or acoustic bass. Erik Kerr lays down a wicked funk or jungle beat, drawing percussive contrasts from tabla ace Jerry Leake or Brahime Fribgane, who also plays the oud. Jere Faison floats disembodied voices from his sampling keyboard.
Guitar might be added by Reeves Gabrels, who long scorched the fretboard for David Bowie, or Mary Chapin Carpenter sideman Duke Levine. Other tantalizing sounds may enter the mix from electric violinist Mat Maneri, didjeridoo maverick Dr. Didg, jam-savvy colorist DJ Logic, or groove-organ kingpin John Medeski. Often, the revolving cast is rounded out by horn players like Tom Hall or avante-garde patriarch Joe Maneri.
The best part is that a listener doesn't have to go to the experimental corners of Manhattan to catch such a communion. One only needs to visit the basement confines of Cambridge's Lizard Lounge, or listen to the new double CD As Above. That is where one enters the spellbinding world of Club d'Elf.
"This is the kind of thing I've been immersing myself into the last few years," says conductor Rivard, who composes the dub/trance/world grooves in advance with drummer Kerr, but leaves plenty open to the improvising guests. "I listen to a lot of North African music, and try to delve into the mysteries of that, to listen to a lot of drum-n-bass and dub, and try to find the common elements."
"It's certainly more of a club than it is a band," says the session veteran, who made many virtuoso friends during his days with the Either/Orchestra, Natraj (A world-jazz group in which he still plays with Leake and Mat Maneri), Morphine side project the Hypnosonics, the Story, and Paula Cole. "My main hope was that I could continue to play with all of the musicians who I really love playing with, and everybody's schedules are so crazy that I knew I could never really have a band that everyone could devote all their time to."
In early 1998, Rivard presented his concept to Lizard booker Billy Beard, and Club d'Elf was born, its name inspired by the neo-psychedelic author Terence McKenna. "It's more of a spirit or an energy," Rivard explains. "There is this elf thing, these little energy deities. When you get down to the submolecular level, they seem to be there, grinning an spinning around and playing tricks with you."
As for his broad musical scope, Rivard cites his youth in Minnesota, when he turned into everything from Led Zeppelin and the Grateful Dead to Return to Forever, Fela Kuti, James Brown, John Coltrane, and the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Comedy is another inspiration, especially the writings of George Meyer, best known for his twisted jokes on The Simpsons.
"That's the beauty of comedy, where you're set up for one expectation, then suddenly, something else comes along, and it throws the brain into the momentary state of imbalance," Rivard says. "What we do with Club d'Elf is any one song can have a number of layers of rhythm. It can be interpreted one way or another. We might play an electronica-like Fatboy Slim kinda thing, and underneath it, there's this Moroccan 6/8 that's boiling and waiting to rise up. Suddenly it comes up, and I can only venture what it means for the listener."
Such percolating punchlines are shaped by Rivard's signals, often to isolate two musicians in simpatico dialogue around his anchoring bass (which he sometimes alters through loops or string-muting alligator clips). "I really think of myself as a DJ more than anything," he says. "I'm trying to listen to what each person's doing, and focus on different elements, like I'm playing with faders on a mixing console."
Rivard took that concept to another level on As Above, The sublime CD debut of Club d'Elf, recorded live at the Lizard over six nights, weaving 19 musicians in and out of the mix. From hypnotic ambient jams to rocking jazz-fusion that evokes '70s Miles Davis (taken up a notch when Gabrels and the Maneris cross flight-paths), the CDs dispense a heady earful usually reserved for those who descend into the lair of the Lizard.
"Having done this for three years now, I have a pretty good idea of what combinations of people work well together," says Rivard, who next convenes Club d'Elf February 8 and 22 (the latter date wih Medeski, Logic, and the Maneris set to join it.) "It's been like a laboratory. We have an audience that continues to come out, and grows with the music, and seems to enjoy us as far as we go and as many risks as we take."
-Paul Robicheau
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