Ron Miles Finally Makes The Village Pioneer Headline On Reopening Night

Ron Miles has a dusty, unpolished voice on the cornet that hints at his Rocky Mountain roots, and unlike your typical high-end improviser, he hardly resorts to flashes or grand statements. He is unhurried, humble and playing on stage for audience, yes, but not directly with he.

All of this helped make the early set of the quintet at the Village Vanguard on Saturday night feel comfortable, even familiar, even though it was Miles’ first week leading a band at the celebrity club, and their show was Vanguard’s first show after an 18-month quarantine.

There was an air of celebration as the 86-year-old establishment came back to life, but the way to connect with it was to pick up where things left off and let the music do its thing.

Tiny white bistro tables and wooden chairs were, as before, very close together between the wide-angle walls of the space, all lined with leather benches. The simple laminated drink menus remained unchanged, apart from a sticker on each that reads “Modelo” handwritten in place of Stella Artois.

But much of the night’s cozy, familial feel came from the fact that all members of Miles’ stellar quintet were regulars of Vanguard. Everyone but the leader of the band had made headlines at the club before: the pianist Jason Moran, guitarist Bill Frisell, bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Brian Blade.

Miles, 58, has spent most of his life in Denver and has recently started garnering the massive national attention he deserves, thanks to this group. After the quartet released their debut album, but before last year’s equally captivating “Rainbow Sign” was released, the engagement had already been arranged with club management. Miles’s was the first date on the schedule when Vanguard decided to align its mid-September reopening with that of Broadway.

Cornetist first assembled the quintet in 2016 as an extension of his long-running trio with Blade and Frisell. Everyone in the group spent at least their teenage years west of the Mississippi River — Louisiana, Texas, Colorado, California – and Miles’ shrewd swaying compositions are perfectly constructed to find the natural simpatico among these musicians. Cool jazz and musical openness of the 1950s, steeped in American roots music Frost CherryIt never feels built-in, but almost always seems focused on a common pursuit of comfort.

Taking the stage with the band just after 8 p.m., Miles allowed a pregnant silence to occur before beaming an evenly held note; Moran countered with a low, cloudy chord, hitting Miles only half a minute behind. Frisell’s guitar, going through reverse effects and spikes, added an electric charge to the earthy tones.

It was Morgan who eventually started to get a solid pulse, but built it in response to Blade’s messy beats that meant a flow to the snare and bass drums. The melody gradually became recognizable “Like the Dreamers” Opener from “Rainbow Sign”. The musicians twisted in and out of the blues form as they transitioned to a fixed three-beat pattern, and the solos folded into neatly composed sections.

The set began with long, comprehensive renditions of original compositions and ended with a diptych of short, concise pieces: a quick rendition of Lee Konitz’s cool jazz classic “Subknown-Lee” and a short version of “The Rumor.” a pool of harmony and tone at the center of the new album.

Miles knows how to match his voice to another musician’s band; Much of his high-profile work has been as a side musician, making him indispensable. pay attention to the entire sound of a band as a bassist or a pianist can.

He encouraged the same approach from fellow bandmates not only by writing down their natural strengths, but also by giving each member a score that indicates not just their parts, but parts of the whole group.

Miles’ skills as a companion were proven on Saturday as well. Open “Queen of the South” Another original, with a haunting, folk-like melody from the new album, after the solo episode ended and the band returned to the tune, Miles happily spun around, adding bright colors and crossover beats.

Then, he upped the energy and the tempo with “Let’s,” an up-tempo melody by trumpeter and Vanguard icon Thad Jones, but not his voice. Moran started out with empty gestures and got more creative, as Frisell improvised, treating his solo like an engine that was rebuilt a bit at a time. Miles quickly pulled his own solo off the harmonic map and tugged whatever structure he built with his sense of oscillation.

After “Let’s,” Miles took the microphone off his stand for the first and only time on set and spoke as if it were a normal music night in a very special place. “We are happy to be here and blessed to be in this sacred space.” “We’ll play some more music for you.”