Jazz Archives

Writing about Led Bib's Mercury Prize-nominated album, the raucous and confrontational Sensible Shoes (Cuneiform, 2009), Britain's Rupert Murdoch-owned Sun newspaper—which speaks with as much authority about jazz as Murdoch's Fox News speaks about politics—declared: "Led Bib are the band bringing jazz back to contemporary music's cutting edge."
A slightly more measured response came from the Guardian's jazz critic, who described the album as "a gale of fresh air." All About Jazz observed that "the band continues its mission of taking jazz by the scruff of the neck [and] punching it in the face."
For all their faults, awards such as the Mercury Prize—which is riddled with weaknesses, beginning with a deplorable lack of transparency of process—do, at least, assist a band in extending its commercial reach. Along with the Sun review, Led Bib got, in 2009/10, a quantity of mass market print and broadcast exposure most bands can only dream about. But an award also presents a problem: how to follow it up. Dumb down and milk it? Or carry on following your muse regardless?
For Bring Your Own, Led Bib's fifth album and Sensible Shoes' follow-up, and another turbulent and in-your-face affair, the band has steered a middle course, carefully negotiating mammon while pursuing art. On the taking-care-of-business front, and in contrast to the first four albums, a producer with a rock track record has been involved: Head, who co-produced art rocker PJ Harvey's 2001 Mercury-winning, Island album, Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea, is credited as "recording" the disc. On the taking-care-of-the-muse front, Led Bib continues to scramble dense, high decibel skronk, power beats and ostinatos, futuristic electric keyboards and fierce, free-tinged, jousting alto saxophones. Most of the tunes, also as previously, were written by drummer/leader Mark Holub.
Head has trodden lightly among Led Bib's trademark motifs, his biggest influence (if it is his) being confined to a general shortening of track playing times. These now average a fraction over five minutes, curtailing extended improvisation on all but the longest tracks. But, as tenor saxophonist Ben Webster said: "if you can't dump your shit in two choruses, forget it." And as soloists, Leb Bib saxophonists Pete Grogan and Chris Williams—passionately engaged though they always are—benefit from a little enforced brevity. Less so, keyboardist Toby McLaren, a more harmonically and texturally adventurous improviser, whose relatively extended solo on the 6:44 "Little x" leaves you wanting much more.
The main caveat with Bring Your Own is the same as it was with Sensible Shoes: Leb Bib is undervaluing its considerable facility with lyrical, reflective material. There are even fewer such passages on the new album than there were on the last. A little more light and shade would be welcome.
But that is to tinker round the edges. Bring Your Own is another, benificent hurricane of fresh air.

:::Review by Chris May:::

Led Bib - Bring Your Own (2011)

1. Moth Dilemma 4:18
2. Is That A Woodblock? 4:45
3. Little X 6:44
4. Hollow Ponds 2:41
5. Power Walking 4:07
6. Service Stop Saviour 5:39
7. Engine Room 5:30
8. Shapes & Sizes 5:55
9. Walnuts 5:50
10. Winter 6:18

Credits
Alto Saxophone - Chris Williams, Pete Grogan
Bass - Liran Donin
Composed By - Chris Williams (tracks: 3), Mark Holub, Toby McLaren (tracks: 6)
Drums - Mark Holub
Piano - Toby McLaren

Led Bib are explosive enough to blow up your speakers -- after they've done a number on their own speakers, that is. The British quintet plays hot-wired electric jazz-rock with two alto saxes wailing over (usually) electric keys and bass plus no-nonsense drums -- and, incidentally, drummer Mark Holub composes nearly all the band's material. Those saxes, belonging to Chris Williams and Pete Grogan and nicely positioned in the stereo field, are practically mirror images, matched in tone and intensity as they pair up in harmony, echo each other in counterpoint, or democratically divide up the soloing space. There's a '90s New York downtown feel to their tone, phrasing, and interplay, recalling in particular the two altos of Ned Rothenberg and Thomas Chapin in Rothenberg's funked-up Double Band releases on the Moers label. Yet Liran Donin's fuzzy rattling bass and Toby McLaren's burning Fender Rhodes truly differentiate this group from the pack -- it sometimes seems like Donin in particular has decided that nothing could possibly elevate the proceedings more than playing through a demolished speaker, and McLaren makes the overdriven sound of Miles Davis' fusion-era electric keyboardists seem like George Winston. The opening moments of "Yes, Again" waltz darkly, offering few clues of what's around the corner: the brief assault of an angular theme followed by a squeaky buzzing and pounding blast of ear-shredding keyboard and bass driven by rock-solid rhythms underpinning those siren-wailing saxes. Tempos shift, constrict, and loosen as the band uncoils, only to tighten back into the theme and stop on a dime just as your neighbors shout at you to turn the stereo down. The playful two-note sax blurt beginning "Squirrel Carnage" is joined by the rest of the band's clipped phrases and fractured rhythms, suddenly overtaken by that thick fuzz bass nd Rhodes as the energy builds and McLaren unleashes a frantic solo followed by squalling saxophone and an abrupt tumble onto a free-form plateau. Led Bib are not afraid to abandon the rhythm, as they do for a short spell here, but they also relish bringing everything back together, assembling compositional puzzle pieces and ratcheting the energy level up, slamming into a tightly focused finale. 

In contrast, the comparatively gentle opening to "Early Morning" could soundtrack the first stirrings of wakefulness after the sun has arisen; there is space enough to slowly gather one's bearings. The sax harmonies are lovely over understated accompaniment before the keys' downward progression and rolling drums bring unsettling portents, and the saxophone burns increasingly hotter over a spacious slow vamp to the point of explosion -- there is calm again at the conclusion, but this particular morning has ultimately entailed more than a relaxed breakfast in bed with a croissant and juice. The squelchy keyboard voicings accenting "Sweet Chilli" nearly mimic the sound of a squeegee on a car window, while "2.4:1 (Still Equals None)" slows to a crawl and then stealthily tiptoes through episodic stops and starts with fittingly spooky and spacy electronics in homage to BBC Radiophonic Workshop explorer Delia Derbyshire, while the album's most accessibly tuneful and uptempo moment arrives with Grogan and Williams' tight harmonies on the theme to "Call Centre Labyrinth." Led Bib let their pent-up energies loose with particular drama on album highlight "Water Shortage," which achieves nearly cinematic proportions as McLaren spins through cleanly articulated keyboard runs -- with acoustic piano voicings this time around. And the nine-plus-minute "Zone 4," written by Williams, is an ambitious closer, with its nearly martial rhythm and angular themes ultimately building through the customary explosiveness to a stirring finale with heartfelt playing by the saxophonists, aiming for the heavens as the drums roll and bass and keys swell beneath them. Yes, Led Bib can certainly bring the skronk, but on "Zone 4" they also bring heart and soul.

:::Review by Dave Lynch:::

Led Bib - Sensible Shoes (2009)

1. Yes, Again (4:55)
2. Squirrel Carnage (7:10)
3. Early Morning (7:10)
4. Sweet Chili (5:22)
5. 2.4:1 (still equals none) (5:56)
6. Call Centre Labyrinth (7:00)
7. Water Shortage (7:11)
8. Flat Pack Fantasy (4:49)
9. Zone 4 (9:07)

Credits
- Mark Holub / drums
- Liran Donin / Stand up bass, electric bass
- Tony McLaren / Rhodes piano
- Chris Williams / saxophone
- Pete Grogan / saxophone