CD Review: The Funky Way of Emil Viklický

Emil Viklický
Vampisoul / VAMPI CD 115, 2009

It was November 2008 when Emil Viklický, a pianist whose work is revered not only in the Czech Republic but also globally, told Prague Jazz that there would be a release of some of his jazz-rock work from the 1970s and 1980s. The wait was long but now, one year later, The Funky Way of Emil Viklický is here!

Those who are familiar with Emil's piano work can be forgiven for looking puzzled. He is famous for his technical but melodic compositions, his fusion of jazz with Moravian folk melodies, and his effective treatment of jazz standards. There are many ways to describe his recent output, all of them complimentary, but “funky” would not be on the list. So, can Emil Viklický, grandmaster of the grand piano, really play funk? Of course he can...

The Funky Way is a collection of his work with different outfits from between 1975 and 1987. Some of the tracks were originally released by Supraphon and Panton on hard-to-locate vinyl albums, singles and EPs, and there are also four pieces that were previously unreleased. Real care has been taken with the sound quality: Ian Shepherd's 24-bit transfers of the original analog tapes are clean but still colourful. Care has also been taken with the presentation: there are extensive and interesting liner notes from Lukáš Machata (DJ Lou Kash) and some fantastic 1970s photographs provided by Emil and singer Eva Svobodová.

Five of the tracks, spread out across the album, are from a 1979 Prague session with Vinne Johnson (drums), Kermit Driscoll (bass guitar) and Bill Frisell (electric guitar). Friends from his year at Berklee, they came to Prague for a two-day recording session with Viklický. These pieces, originally from the Okno LP, are pure funk. The grooves are strong, with big bouncy bass riffs and tight, precise drumming. The keyboard parts will come as a revelation to those who consider Viklický solely as a pianist: here he's working on analog synthesizer, electric piano and clavinet.

“Trochu Funky” (“The Funky Way”, E. Viklický) is opened by the rhythm section before keyboards and guitar join in. The melodic approach and attention to detail that typify Emil's piano playing are much in evidence. There are washes of sound and delicate highlights as well as the down and dirty funk. He plays fast with a lot of intricate touches, and there is some good interplay and union with Frisell on guitar.

“Květen” (“Maytime”, E. Viklický) opens with a sweep before falling into a jaunty pattern. There are some sweet escalating chord progressions and Johnson employs a light and airy touch while still keeping things pinned down. There is more electric piano and some nice bendy synth notes. Frisell again goes for the burn before the whole thing rises to a powerful climax.

“Boston” (E. Viklický) is rapid and choppy, the quartet on overdrive. Leads are shared between keyboards and guitar, and Johnson gets to do a drum solo without abusing the privilege. “Zase Zapomněli Zavřít Okno” (“They've Left The Window Open Again”, E. Viklický) is a slower-paced funk experience, although still with a satisfyingly fat, squidgy sound. Less fiery and more contemplative, it shows a different side of this quartet. “Jumbo Jet” (E. Viklický), the final piece from this session, is again a slower and spacier number and is thoughtfully delivered.

The four previously unreleased tracks on The Funky Way feature Viklický in yet another role unfamiliar to many of his fans: as the leader of a big band. The Emil Viklický Studio Big Band pieces, arranged and conducted by the man himself, are 2-track recordings and so their sound quality is not quite as good as the rest of the collection. It is still pretty decent though, and the brass comes over brightly. Given the quality of the arrangements and their historical significance (they're out of Emil's own archives), their inclusion is most welcome.

“Ještě Jednou Slunce” (“Once Again Sun”, E. Viklický) is a full-blooded affair with stomping bass and punchy brass. It is mainly led by saxophone, with keyboard instruments taking a back seat. The arrangement is sophisticated and satisfying, blending the traditional big band sound with a funky rhythm section. “70. Východní” (“East 70th Street”, E. Viklický) starts with a brassy fanfare before opening out into busy high-tempo big band jazz. It is tight and precise stuff from this outfit of (according to the liner notes) unknown personnel.

The majestic “Hromovka” (“Thunderhouse”, E. Viklický) has a melancholy opening but soon settles into the funky pattern once more, with a slower ultra-groovy bass riff and staccato piano rumbling away under a wide-screen sleazy feast of brass and woodwind. “Siesta” (E. Viklický) picks up the pace again, with some mellow sax and piano moments being juxtaposed against powerful brass.

The Okno session and the Studio Big Band are both projects that are no longer currently active, but that is not true of some of the other collaborations featured on The Funky Way.

There are two tracks from SQH, the outfit that Viklický joined in 1974. SQH also featured Karel Velebný on vibraphone, Ivan Smažík on drums, Jaromír Helešic on percussion, and František Uhlíř on double bass. Yes... the same František 'Paganini of the Bass” Uhlíř who currently plays in Emil's Trio. When you see them play together their communication is almost telepathic. Little surprise, given that their shared history reaches back over 35 years!

“Týden” (“Week”, E. Viklický) is a joyfully airy piece of jazz-rock that feels good. It's fast and it bounds along with playful interaction between vibes and piano, often falling back into satisfying phrases. Drums and percussion are busy and skittish, and Uhlíř's melodic bass twang sounds very much like it does today. The second SHQ piece also features Eva Svobodová on vocals. Yes... the same Eva Svobodová with the same velvet voice that it is worth going to Reduta to see. “Země Plná Lásky” (“A Land Full Of Love”, E. Viklický / V. Čort) heads more into acid-jazz territory, with disjointed rhythms, super-rubbery bass, and a gorgeous sweet chorus excitingly delivered by Svobodová who sounds like she is having real fun. Some slightly surreal spoken comments from Velebný to the rest of the band also help to keep the acid vibe going. It may only clock in at 3:44 but every second is a pleasure.

“Kam S Tím Blues” (“Chega De Saudade”, A. C. Jobim / V. Čort) is taken from Svobodová's own album, Můj Ráj, on which Viklický appeared as part of her backing band. The wooden twangy bass tones give Uhlíř away without even having to look at the credits. It's an enjoyable track, as would be expected from the fusion of an interesting and talented singer with an interesting and talented band.

Last but not least, The Funky Way includes two tracks by 1970s Czechoslovak jazz-rock legends Energit, a band that also included guitarist Luboš Andršt. Yes. The same one.

“Zelený Satén” (“Green Satin”, E. Viklický) dates back to 1976 and is one of several recorded versions of this award-winning piece. The opening melody is lyrical and haunting, played on electric soprano sax by Rudolf Ticháček. Viklický solos on electric piano before making way for a hard-edged burst from Andršt. The conclusion is a reprise of the initial evocative melody.

The last track is the mini-epic “Ráno (Part 1)” (“Morning (Part 1)”, L. Andršt). This is a slightly edited version, but at 13:13 it is still a substantial beast. Intense jazz-rock, with more than a hint of progressive rock in there too, it again kicks off with Ticháček's electric sax. This time the mood is sinister, with unsettled electric piano and guitar patterns swirling underneath. Andršt's solo is fast and jagged. Ticháček walks the line between control and chaos. The electric piano solo is bluesy, the underlying rhythms are funky, and the overall effect is not dissimilar to one of the early 1970s jazzed-up incarnations of King Crimson, only done better. A suitably prolonged outro ends the track and the album.

And so there we have The Funky Way of Emil Viklický. It was worth the wait. The music is very different from the sort of material that he is usually heard playing, and yet it sounds so natural that it is hard to believe he is not a dedicated full-time funk and jazz-rock musician.

For fans of Emil's piano work it is a fascinating insight into his other lives. For those interested in Czechoslovak jazz it is an essential archive collection of excellent and important material. It is also a great listen: a recording full of life and excitement and fun. That is the Funky Way. The only question now remaining is whether Viklický could ever be persuaded hit the road with a Funky Tour...

Gig Review: Eva Svobodová & Co.

Reduta Jazz Club

5^th October 2008

Reduta is one of the most famous jazz venues in Europe. It is the place where Bill Clinton and Václav Havel played together in 1994, and the seats they took on the hard fixed benches are marked with metal badges for posterity. Pictures of the great leaders are displayed prominently amongst the photographs of jazz legends. A single event placed this joint in a consciousness larger than that of the local music fans. It is a place that everyone interested in the history of Czech jazz should visit once.

Once is about right. After that it is harder to put aside the ridiculous price of the drinks and the cloakroom attendants with troglodyte manners. If you don’t have the exact change you are stared at like you just pissed in someone’s tea. You can feel the resentment as the coins are counted out slowly and deliberately, with the severity of a dowry. Bank clerks at gunpoint have handed over the goods with more of a smile. I only go to this place if there is someone I really, really want to see. As such I returned to the historic and atmospheric but totally infuriating Reduta to see the fantastic Eva Svobodová singing with her band.

Eva’s Fine and Mellow (1995) album was featured recently on Prague Jazz: an excellent piece of work in which her voice, an intoxicating mixture of smoke and velvet, perfectly compliments the playing of Luboš Andršt’s Acoustic Set. Her current live outfit, although very different in sound, is no less suited to the songs she delivers so well. The voice is just the same however, capable of capturing both joy and sadness with equal charm.

The current band is fronted not by a guitarist but by jazz trombonist (yes, they do exist) Přemek Tomšíček. Handling the shiny beast with remarkable speed and accuracy, his blistering runs demonstrated extraordinary control of both arm and mouth. On piano Kryštof Marek was taking time away from composing, conducting and band-leading in theatres to offer his tasteful contributions. The rhythm section of František Raba (bass) and František Hönig (drums) provided experience, intelligence and interesting variations. They sounded rounded and polished, usually controlled, and certainly interesting. Substituting lead guitar for lead trombone is not a conventional move, but in this case it worked.

Each of the three sets began with a brief instrumental section before Eva stepped to the microphone. Giving the band time to stretch out a bit more than is usually possible when there is the serious business of songs to be sung, it gave a chance for them to warm up while the audience could settle down, get back from the bar, bemoan the prices, and then shut up.

Some songs from Fine and Mellow were included this evening, including “Everyday (I Have The Blues)” (P. Chatman) and “I Ain’t Got Nothing But The Blues” (D. Ellington). “Masquerade” (P. F. Webster) was given a splendid treatment, with an extensive instrumental workout and perfect delivery of the bittersweet lyrics. It is ordinarily hard to believe that this song is three quarters of a century old, and impossible to comprehend when it sounds so fresh, alive, and contemporary.

Billie Holiday’s “God Bless The Child” was recounted with the powerful yearning that the lyrics deserve, while "Agua de Beber" (A. Jobim) was all slick Latin loveliness. This is an ensemble that is as adaptable as it is convincing, being able to snap between joyful swing, desolate ballads, and cathartic blues. A brief interlude as an elastic vocals/bass/drums trio showcased Raba’s dexterity on the big strings; a teasing and light-hearted venture that delighted the Sunday evening punters.

The band, as good as they were and as good as they are in their own right, are the backdrop for Svobodová’s singing. Excellent English pronunciation (better than most Czech singers who sing in English) with just a hint of local accent create a seductive style as timeless as the songs themselves. Songs that may be from a different era and a different part of the word, but human emotions are just the same as they ever were and ever will be. By capturing that emotion, and that realness of feeling the immediacy remains across the decades and the spirit of the music blossoms still. Rare blossoms in autumnal Prague, amid the soft falling leaves and heavy falling nights.

CD Review: Eva Svobodová feat. Luboš Andršt Acoustic Set

Fine and Mellow

Multisonic 31 0334-2, 1995

There are lots of very good albums in the world, and the Czech jazz scene probably has a disproportionate number of them. Some are better than others, but it is hard to find a real stinker. However, despite the consistently high quality of the music being produced in this country, there are occasionally albums that really stand out. Even for the listener who now has his quality threshold raised above his hairline due to an over-exposure of greatness there are still some treats out there waiting to be discovered. Fine and Mellow is such an album: a jewel of note in the very sparkly crown.

The album features established Czech singer Eva Svobodová backed by Andršt’s acoustic-orientated band. It oozes class and style. The musicianship is splendid. Eva’s smoky vocals provide a charged thrill verging on the erotic. Luboš eases out the curve of each note with such perfect proportion that Michelangelo's statue of David seems clunky and half-arsed in comparison. The band hums, sings, jiggles, sprawls, attacks, tenses and releases. The choice of songs is striking, original, and totally lovely. It is an album by grown-ups and for grown-ups, but it can still induce the childish joy of virginal discovery. As a package it satisfies in a way so complete that it shouldn’t belong to the modern world. Yes. It is very good.

“I Ain’t Got Nothing But The Blues” (D. Ellington / D. George) kicks in with Eva to the fore, caressing her way through a languid lament, while the Acoustic Set capture a late night mood of gentle sleaze. Andršt contributes a solo that is as sweet as honey and expressive as a Frenchman in love (although with better taste). Its laidback and slinky feel is indicative of the album as a whole: sophisticated and intelligent, sweet and wordly.

“Masquerade” (J. Loeb / P. F. Webster) opens with some jaunty vibes from Radek Krampl, and is an upbeat treatment of this standard. Instead of wallowing in darkness this is a vivacious and flirty romp, with Krampl also offering up a fine solo later on. The next track, “Black Coffee” (P. F. Webster / F. J. Burke) is a bluesier affair, featuring Štěpán Markovič on tenor saxophone. One of the local scene’s most respected sax-wallahs, Markovič accentuates and highlights the melody with airy phrases that complement Eva’s velvet voice and Luboš’s gentle phrasing.

Everyday (I Have The Blues) (P. Chapman) dates from Depression-era Chicago and features some sterling acoustic bass work from Petr Dvorský, firstly underlying a fine solo shared between Markovič and Andršt, and then moving to the front in his own right. The next number, “Goodbye Porkpie Hat” (C. Mingus / J. Mitchell), is probably the standout track on this album. Dark and shifting, this classic Mingus composition gives the band plenty to think about and they prove themselves to be more than up to the job. Andršt seizes the guitar lines, and in doing so adds himself to the list of guitar greats who have made the solo in this piece their own. Sad and sweet, with the occasional blistering run than he makes sound so easy, it is understated brilliance. Meanwhile Eva interprets Mitchell’s lyrics with empathy and panache.

“Same Ol’ Story” (B. Ighner) is a pulsating and feel-good piece that lists the common threads that bind humanity together. It has plenty of room for the band to flex and explore, and in doing so they give the song a satisfying depth that it would otherise lack.

“Only Women Bleed” (V. Furnier / D. Wagner) has had many lives, including being recorded by rocker Alice Cooper, and here it lives again. Svobodová delivers a mixture of wryness and sadness in the words, while chiming vibes punctuate and an usually raspy guitar contrasts with sweet soprano saxophone. Meanwhile “A Night in Tunisia” (D. Gillespie / L. Robin) is a twisty Latin-influenced affair, with Jaromír Helešic coming out of the shadows on drums with some flashy licks.

“All Blues” (M. Davis) is a catchy standard with its mesmerising six-eight bass motif. Over this Eva layers and stretches her vocals, and band and singer swirl and sway together in a circular lilting celebration that could go on forever and still be too short. Finally the album ends with the title track, “Fine and Mellow” (B. Holliday). It is one final blast of verve; a fitting end to a triumphant recording.

Fine and Mellow is one of those special albums that can take you by surprise. Its agenda is not particularly radical, and yet it is a collection of songs that sound fresh, new and exciting. A classy delight, this is a rare piece of Czech jazz that it is worth seeking out.