Esperanza Spalding, Ronnie Scott's

Bone-shakingly funky jazz at Ronnie Scott's

share this article

Proxima Estacion: Esperanza

Watching some jazz musicians play live, you're made acutely aware of the intense effort that goes into their performance. Conveying a non-verbal message that roughly translates as “this shit is really hard, you know”, tell-tale signs include the pained rictus of deep concentration, the sotto voce grunts, groans and exhalations, and the self-communing, head-down-to-the-floor mode adopted for solos of five minutes or longer.

Observing Esperanza Spalding's sunny disposition in the hallowed confines of Ronnie Scott's, on the other hand, you get the impression that she's barely breaking a sweat. What she's actually doing is carving out bone-shakingly funky bass lines, singing some of the most circuitous melodic lines you're likely to hear, and quietly grooving along to the music. This is like patting your head, rubbing your stomach and Morris dancing all at the same time, only about a million times harder.

Encouraged by her mother, Spalding began playing violin at age five, switching to bass a decade later. In 2005, aged just 20, she began teaching at Boston's Berklee College of Music, making her one of its youngest ever faculty members. The time scale almost defies belief. The Portland-born, Texas-based 25-year-old has already worked with some of the greatest names in jazz, including pianist Michel Camilo, guitarist Pat Metheny and sax player Joe Lovano.

Backed by her regular pianist Leo Genovese and drummer Lynden Rochelle, Spalding's wide-ranging set referenced everything from funk and hip-hop to Brazilian and Afro-Cuban rhythms. Whether deconstructing a standard (“Autumn Leaves”), reinventing a pop song (Stevie Wonder's “I Can't Help It”) or performing her own material (“Precious”), Spalding's playful virtuosity and boldly individual arrangements were utterly compelling. Despite the trio format, the textural range was vast, due mainly to the bank of keyboards which surrounded Genovese. Switching at will from glassy Fender Rhodes to organ stabs to cascading torrents of notes on the grand piano, his seductive palette of sound was at times reminiscent of the great Joe Zawinul.

But it was Spalding that you were constantly drawn to, conjuring up contrapuntal feats between voice and bass of such incredible dexterity - and with such sweetness and strength – that if you closed your eyes for a second you'd swear you were listening to a quartet.

More dates from Esperanza Spalding here.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
Spalding's playful virtuosity and boldly individual arrangements were utterly compelling

rating

0

explore topics

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 31st August this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more new music

The welcome return of a foundational album of electronic minimalism
Surrealism, social observation and more muscular sound from the Leeds quartet
A powerful personal outpouring of joy and pain - with a great beat
The London quartet have taken to playing large venues with ease, as this career-spanning set showed
The Philadelphia punk rockers continue to impress
A partial account of how Brit-punk absorbed an aspect of reggae
The Fez Festival Of World Sacred Music and the Fes Gathering bring the world together
Bristol band aren't happy but offer up the occasional sing-along
A new album is unveiled and old tunes are played for the last time