Chasper Wanner Quartet (Featuring Danny Gottlieb)
The production is impeccable while the pacing is finessed. Like Butter Brickle, this toffee-encrusted treat is delicate and discrete. It’s a smooth operator as it mingles amongst the guests. With attention to flair and thought given to even the smallest of details, it’s a very considerate and cordial hostess. One could argue that this almost serves a diplomatic purpose. It’ll break bread between foes and calm anxious nerves. You can’t deny its truce or treaty nor resist the ease it implores in your bones.
Yes, this in fact, is how this thin wispy wafer crumbles, cracks, and splinters. When it comes apart, each powdery piece supplies the healthiest whole-grain pleasure.
The stress will dissolve when it inaugurates its beat and just like that, the groove takes flight. It’s for every kind of fan who enjoys something cerebral, soothing, jazzy, or light. They aren’t fast to impress nor are they slow on the intake as their music is gingerly cautious and perfectly baked. With considerable hospitality, it invokes a hassle-free flow. To me, it’s as if you mixed the instrumental Far Corner with the illustrious Billy Joel. It’s amorous in the ways of an appealing ballad, but it’s also spontaneous, outgoing, and experimental. With this as its mate, even Christy Brinkley’s feathers would be unfettered. When it’s perched, it stands its ground. When it flies, it’s as free as a bird. When you love this one, you’ll have a hard time letting it go.
This afternoon delight doesn’t just materialize out of thin air nor is it fabricated by a flock of flying monkeys. Instead, we are bombarded by four highly trained aces. Chasper Wanner is the guitarist who fronts this craft. He’s the brains behind the operation and it’s his skill that makes the fuselage lift. He is joined by Wolfgang Zwiauer on bass and Alex Hendriksen on tenor sax. Both his co-pilots are responsive on the controls, yet it is Wanner who commandeers the joystick in the cockpit. The featured guest, Danny Gottlied is a stranger on the manifest, but the outsider’s presence also comes in handy. He doles out the know-how on the drums and maintains the pressure in the cabin.
Gottlieb states that Wanner, “is a wonderful musician and I had a fantastic experience participating in this project! I hope everyone will enjoy this exciting and special combination of musicians and material.” Like his tap-dance on the tom toms, his allusions are straight-to-the-point and on target.
That covers the lights, camera, and a bit of the action, even looking into one of its modes of transportation, but it’s also important to review the venue.
The album was recorded at Ars
Audio in
Remain seated throughout the duration of this spree, but please feel free to recline your chair or lower your tray. With the condiments on the side and a napkin on your lap, you’ll most likely need a fork to grab each savory wedge. You’ll be so preoccupied with this fulfilling feast; I guarantee the time will quickly pass.
During this jazz-encumbered journey, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to peruse and pick away at these pieces:
“Until” – We begin this suite of easygoing songs by way of the warmest reception. On that note, the King and Queen make a regal entrance to the deck. Much fanfare is given as the brass instruments announce their arrival. While the bass whispers and the drums twinkle, the sax is a social climber who circulates amid the masses.
“Transition I” – Hendriksen masquerades in this soirée with a style that closely mimics Kenny G. If Burt Bacharach were stabbed with a shot of adrenaline then shocked with an electrifying jolt of jazz, perhaps he’d be this chipper and chirpy. It fades in and out of unconsciousness as it’s not always upbeat. In this drowsy, but deft game of chess, it is the Bishop who runs the table. At the end of the day, the Predator is slain while the Alien slips into a coma.
“Transition II” – Inordinately dour innuendos are incorporated into the multiple layers of this drama. Nothing is lost in the translation as the conversation scrolls on by in its captions. After a visit from a cigarette-smoking blonde, the detective takes the case. Blunt trauma is discovered while a sinister plot is foreshadowed. This is Film Noir all the way from the suspicious client to the unexpected turn of events. Once this mystery has been solved, only then can we cash the check. You’ll cut the cake and then take a slice, and if that’s not enough, you’ll probably attempt to greedily wolf it down the hatch.
“Gone” – This is very close to the other cuts, but like a carnival trick, it’s not as near as it appears. In general, I don’t like redundancy, but I can’t say I’m turned off by their persistent formula. To be quite honest, I’m actually impartial to the way they weave their patterns. Each sip prompts you to take another. The remnants at the bottom of this glass are subtly different than the rest of the sap. Since the time signatures are soaked in soggy residue, each sopping sheet is jam-packed together.
“Crave” – As we near the intermission, hunger pangs produce rumblings in our stomach. The sax is of little help as it wafts with an awfully enchanting aroma. It’ll have your ears reeling in ecstasy and your innards will be overcome with rapture. Your appetite will not only be awakened, but it’ll be agitatedly stirred. The dinner bell rings while the siren spins and moans. This indicates that commerce has commenced in the Red Light District. From that point on, the sleeping giant comes awake and it’s suddenly full-steam ahead. This track is tidy, but something mischievous and naughty is hidden here too. You know you have no business in this borough, though you’ll want to plead for more. You get your wish as it goes on for 10 minutes and 54 seconds. As long as it goes, it’ll pass with little impatience. Like an Olympic wrestler, it pummels its opponent silly while keeping the weight on. As fatigue sets in, it sticks to a strategy that’s strictly ground and pound. At this point in the match, it’s nothing pretty, but it’ll certainly get the job done.
“Mice” - Elephants fear small critters such as these, but you’ll find these mice are nice. They watch their step and never over-congest the open space on the floor. While they scurry about, you’ll have ample room to high-step. You may even feel comfortable enough to hop, skip, and jump, or maybe do the rumba.
“Softening” - This piece of clay is prodded, shaped, and then put into the kiln. The glaze goes in dull, but comes out radiant and sparkly. It’s mostly a continuation of the last, but works as a setup for their mission statement and mantra. Like a Vette or a Viper, it hums through the intersection and then purrs down the strip. When it rolls, heads are sure to turn.
“The Gag” – Simultaneously, this crazy quip is both blasé and bubbly, but it’s no practical joke. As you bide your time in the waiting room, you inspect the magazine selection. Boys’ Life and Highlight occupy the area on top the end table. It’s an oddly obscure assortment of infantile literature and pediatric prose, but then again, it’s nothing to go gaga about. It froths with the fizz of Tony Levin and prickles with a quill from Sting. Luckily, the itchy rash from this spider bite subsides with just a modest squirt of Benatine. With that, the doctor is ready to see the next adolescent or kid.
“Treatment” – This gooey glop is extremely wet and sticky. It’s not the heat that caused the sweat, but rather the humidity. The steam room is covered in fog while the air is tainted with a minty Eucalyptus. In a way, Wanner’s guitar fidgets around in the haze like a toned-down version of The Dixie Dregs. In nothing, but a towel, it twiddles to and fro like a less bombastic form of The Tangent.
“Driven” – This is not rip-roaring or gregarious. Instead, it coasts with the windows down and the sun-roof venting. With the wind in your hair and the breeze on your lips, the sax stays in its lane and prowls down the road. With a guardian angel supervising the steering, this one will drive you safely home.
“The Castle” - There’s nothing meek and modest about this particular dwelling. Then again, this is no simple, yet humble abode. It’s unassuming, but I wouldn’t call it poor or unprivileged. Here you get the keys to the kingdom for a lengthy stay. It’s long enough to laze around and recharge your batteries. In other words, they complete their commitment with another drawn-out song. It gives you a whole eight minutes and then some to tidy up, before you’re misplaced by its permanent residents. When they pull into the driveway, they smash through the garage. If you didn’t pick up on the hint, remain alert and vigilant; besides it’s typically wise to keep the volume set at a reasonable level. Otherwise, it’ll wake up the neighbors and make quite the unwanted impression. If that happens, your ears will chime. The ringing won’t subside until it clicks over to that ethereal auto-attendant on voice-mail. If you’re proactive, you may find that Manner Mode is the better alternative. Before it hangs up the phone, it meddles in the swank of the seventies with a hip-hop groove not too unlike Starsky & Hutch in investigative mode. After all the hoopla and the short-lived hysteria, it winds down as graceful as a ballerina. While they consistently entertain throughout the entire engagement, they couldn’t have ended on a better note.
CWQ as it’s known to the uppity in-crowd; goes well whether played among friends, at a wedding reception, or over a bookstore intercom system. For best results, lay this elaborate album out with a plate of fancy cheeses and a dish of ritzy crackers. If you want to be the host with the most, let it chill on ice and then serve with fine wine. All your jolly good fellows, cronies and goombahs, will be happy you extended such an incredibly thoughtful invitation.
8.25/10