| 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
|