The Music of Pat Metheny - Minuano 6/8

Eventually, it had to happen. I had to dig up one track that is quintessentially a Pat Metheny Group number. This is typically the 2nd part of his famous "Metheny Medley" (Phase Dance - Minuano (6/8) - September 15th - First Circle...), and even continues to maintain that position in his newest Sessions rendition.

It certainly was a hard track to come by because this is one of those long form songs, which begins one way, and midway transforms into a whole other creation. I was lucky to run across it as a snippet from a fan's playlist on Pat Metheny Radio on the PMG website. (Un)fortunately, the snippet was from the second portion of the song past the 2:45 mark - similar to what he uses in his medley - thus, it is one that you're likely to miss unless you're patient enough.

Coming from the "Still Life (Talking)" album of 1987, this song reflects some of the group's earlier Brazilian influence from around the period; it also includes the incorporation of wordless vocals in its composition. The song starts off with an eerie portion of humming set against a nondescript instrumental background that steadily increases in complexity; there is an ebb-and-flow of the guitar, piano and other percussion elements as something buoying the humming, but not entirely sounding unified at first; this then builds up around the 2:45 mark, where we swing from the crescendo of the humming into a beautiful samba bass line.

From here, the guitar, piano and whistling spell out the Minuano melody, and in the next line the vocals reiterate the same phrasing. This is the preamble to Metheny's tasteful solo (more restrained in the album version, but a tad more explosive in varied live playings of this song). We then delve back into the minuano melody, which is used as a bridge to a delightful percussion breakdown: the Marimba stands front-and-centre with notable backing from castanets and the piano; for its second spin, the drums are brought in and the bass accent a few notes, and lastly, third time around, they are joined by Metheny's guitar which seems to resonate exactly with Steve Rodby's Bass playing. With the whole band back in play, Lyle Mays builds up the next bridge section to sound like a brass heavy affair, and then we find ourselves back in the Minuano melody proper till the song's conclusion.

Clocking in at a decent 9:28, this song is a masterpiece. It actually seems much shorter when you play it out, but it is immensely enjoyable through and through. Many versions of it abound, especially some live versions (We Live Here & Imaginary Day DVDs) where the intro session is cut out and they just get down to business. Also available is the Pat Metheny + Metropole Orchestra version adapted by Pat for a massive ensemble.

Whichever version you view, I hope it proves as much a feast for your senses as it has for mine over the years.

God Bless

The Music of Pat Metheny: Sueño con México (Orchestrion Edition)

Time to delve into another gem from the masterful Pat Metheny. This is from one of his solo albums (New Chautauqua) released in 1979, and as the story goes, the song was something he wrote up quite hurriedly as he became aware that he was one song short for the record. The original recording is an outstanding piece of work, wrapped around this beautiful weaving of music against a baseline arpeggio that is hypnotizing to say the least.

However, I will not be focusing on the original recording. In 2010, Metheny exposed the world to his idiosyncratic labour of love: Orchestrion. Sure, this was yet another of his solo albums, but one with a twist: he had the backing of a whole slew of musical instruments, specifically designed for the endeavour, that he was able to activate at will. He used this to good effect, and came up with 5 original compositions to showcase this project. However, after going on tour, he would dabble in some improv work using the orchestrion instruments, and he even gave some of his old tunes a fresh spin. This is of course what led to his spin-off album, The Orchestrion Project, which dropped in 2012. This album, inspired by his Orchestrion tour, was an expansion of his original orchestrion work featuring aforementioned new improv material and a few of his old hits.

And this is where we pick up things with his new rendition of Sueño con México. This rendition breathes a whole new life to the original (similar to what happened with The Way Up); the palette has been expanded greatly for this song. We end up going from the whimsy of a piece designed last minute in a Stuttgart hotel, to an even more tightly hemmed piece of music; whereas the original composition is a more nuanced quiet piece, this time around it's more full blown and expressive. The arpeggios underlying the song are more vibrant, and the extra percussion from cymbals, piano, bass, etc., used sparingly in bursts, amplifies the emotiveness of the piece.

Within this soundscape, Metheny still stands front and centre with his guitar and this time around he has a true semblance of a solo (which the original recording never really had). The solo has two distinct parts: at first he plays all his flourishes accompanied chiefly by the underlying arpeggio, and adds splashes of the orchestrion to accent his work; the second part is more subdued with just a bit more yearning conveyed by his guitar. Perhaps his finest moment comes in a roughly 1 minute stretch starting from the 6:40 mark; and within that stretch, 7:19 to 7:44 consists of some of the finest notes I've heard committed to music. So much elation, it just sounds like a stairway to Heaven. 

I enjoyed the original Sueño con México, but I adore the reinvented edition of the song, and I can truly call it one of my favourites. I love that he can still reinvent his classics anew, and use them to inspire a new generation. Thank God for such blessings. 

The Music of Pat Metheny: "He's Gone Away"

Nestled in the eclectic works of Pat Metheny (circa 1997) is a collaborative effort between him and the late Charlie Haden (Rest in Peace) entitled "Beyond the Missouri Sky (Short Stories)". The album is a mix of original compositions and covers, and one of the most beautiful covers that they put down is "He's Gone Away".

He's Gone Away probably ranks up there with great American folk classics. I can't think of this classic without my mind gravitating towards "Shenandoah", probably the next best classic. Seeing as it's quite the old song, its history is mired in some confusion. It is probable that multiple versions exist, with new lyrics added as the song traded hands or traversed generations; be that as it may, it still retains its beautiful ballad quality.

This is one of those quiet ballad pieces where Pat excels. It is also really suited to the "plain" playing style typified by Haden. I'm not trying to Christianize Metheny's version of the tune, but this version feels like it pays homage to "Amazing Grace"; at least, my ears pick an Amazing Grace motif just after the preamble. In much the same manner, the beginning of Lyle Mays solo on San Lorenzo is also capped by an Amazing Grace motif. I don't know whose decision this was (Metheny or Haden), but it makes the rendition that much more soulful.

There is so much meditative "space" in this song. It's as if the silence (and the unsaid) in the song evokes as much passion as that which is actually played. Pat's guitar is most prominent throughout the performance. When they're evenly matching it up, it seems like Pat plays at least 2 notes for every deep note churned by Haden's bass; then they eventually segue into all-Pat. The middle portion of the song actually surprised me today. I've listened to it countless times, and only today did I realize that Pat is overdubbing himself - using the same guitar - to give that impression of a guitar duet. I always assumed the accompaniment was from Charlie Haden, but there is nary a bass note to be heard.

Towards the end of the song, with Haden again on bass, the song is more sonically filled as a result of the overdubs of Metheny's guitar (I have no idea which other one he was playing in this case) that seem to carry the same weight/gravitas that a violin and horn would. It all builds up to this beautiful crescendo conveying the full emotional force of the song, and then magically ends with what you first heard as the preamble.

Some people responded negatively to the overdubbing and feel that perhaps it made the performance less pure. It's sad that we will never get to see a live version of this piece performed. Their tour for this was strictly a duet, and I feel like getting this performance down perfectly would probably have required a second guitar player in tow. Sad! In case you do find any live Metheny/Haden versions that are labelled as "He's Gone Away", they are merely mislabelled versions of Farmer's Trust.

I'm not a purist by any stretch, and I offer this as a definitive 'keeper' from the Metheny songbook. This should appeal to anyone, any age, any leaning. A ballad it may be, but it also captivates the soul like a simple lullaby. The beauty is in the music.

God Bless

The Music of Pat Metheny - Farmer's Trust

I've been an avid fan of Pat Metheny since being introduced to his work in the form of his beautiful song, 'James,' some time circa the early 2000's. Truth be told, my first true introduction to him came in the late 90's as a result of the Walt 'Baby' Love countdown show, which used 'Here to Stay' as a segue piece.

Since that time, I've gotten to listen to a lot of his music, and he is quite the busy artist with prolific output. Some of the stuff he puts out is straight ahead jazz, other stuff (example, 'Here to Stay') borders on smooth jazz; and then some of his stuff is just straight out of this world experimental.

Today, I'm focusing on 'Farmer's Trust' from his live Travels album, which consists of a slew of the Pat Metheny Group's hits recorded during live sessions in 1982 (yep, this recording is technically as old as I am). This is my best song on the album, and probably one of his all-time favourites. I believe the best way to describe the song would be as "...a melancholic chant, a soothing lullaby, a celebration of life in its simplicity and just a hint of an ode to Mother Nature"; at least those were the words I used when I wrote to the Q&A page on his website.

My earliest introduction to the song was via the Kevin Costner movie "Fandango". I remember perusing through the PMG website and finding out that some of the group's songs were a part of the Fandango soundtrack. If memory serves me right, there should be 3 songs: It's for you, September 15th and Farmer's Trust. "It's for you" received the most screen time as part of a dance routine; unless you're really familiar with "September 15th", you'd miss it as only a smidgen of it plays out on a landing strip. "Farmer's Trust" is the setting for a particular memorable scene: the movie's closing. As everyone departs, we are treated to a long goodbye between two characters (Phil & Dorman), and after that Kevin Costner's "Gardner" casts a long glance back at them from a vantage point overlooking the party. Originally, I remember being distraught because I felt like the track itself was part of the movie's score, and thus something I would be unable to come by; however, with a bit of luck trying out the one PMG group song I was  unfamiliar with, I found my song.

This ballad has that open plain Midwestern charm that's at the root of Metheny and Mays' humble beginnings. It sounds like they concocted it as they sat out over some open plain late past dusk, and tried to evoke the mood of the calmness settling over the earth. Nana Vasconcelos (rest his soul) provides the delightful bird chirping that gives this song an ethereal quality. I couldn't believe that he actually used a rubber duck to pull off such an impressive feat! (the man was a wizard).

The interplay between all the moving pieces that are the 5 musicians involved in crafting this gem works so well that it actually seems like a really simple song. (Jim Hall & Pat Metheny in fact have a very beautiful rendition of this song that only comprises of the two of them on guitars). It has this great use of silence interspersed within it; sometimes Metheny on guitar shines through while everyone else takes a back seat, then Mays on the keyboard takes the lead; Rodby lays out a beautiful bass line, Gottlieb's drums as just the slightest hint of a whisper...and finally, Nana's got the chirps. I think what's really impressive about this band - in all its permutations - is its ability to fill up space orchestrally with their notes. It feels like they use the bare minimum of notes here, and it works perfectly.

If I were on a deserted island, this is definitely one of those tracks I'd have with me. There's just so much hope at the core of this song.

God Bless

The Music of Pat Metheny - Everyday, I Thank You

I had usually skipped this piece whenever I came across it in my playlist. The long drag from Michael Brecker's sax usually implied to me that this would be a depressing piece (...and this one certainly is long, coming in at a full 13.5 minutes).


Thankfully, one day I just let the shuffle button do its thing in my PMG playlists, and I had a chance to listen to the piece in its entirety. It is by all means exquisite; a ballad perfectly crafted. Starting out with the song's chorus framed by an ethereal pipe synth portion, Michael Brecker paints us an eloquent picture, and in a quickening of pace, Mr. Metheny adds yet more pastels to the song. (Love that rubato!)

If memory serves me right, it was Pat who wrote this song, but from listening to it, it's clear that the good relationship he had with his late friend allowed them to concoct pure magic. Mike Brecker is front-and-centre on this tune, but Pat is never far behind - each of them coming in to accentuate different portions of the song. Every bit of this song just works. If the title of the song is anything to go by, they really expressed their gratitude as sincerely as could possibly be done. And in turn, I thank God, everyday, for this music which conveys sentiments that cannot be described adequately through wording.



 Everyday, Father, I thank you.

The Music of Pat Metheny – The Way Up

This song brings back dear memories to mind. It is my FIRST actual PMG recording purchase. I didn’t know much about it before it was released, but I played the heck out of the little snippet that they had available on his website, and I knew then that I had to have it. I had only just graduated from college that May of ’05, so this song forever stands as a hallmark of my coming of age.

Listening to it was something else altogether different. The Way Up has certainly polarized PMG fans; some do not like his new direction neither do they appreciate the fact that the typical PMG humming that they’ve come to love is only restricted to a mere 2 minutes in Part 3. A lot of his fans would describe this as his Magnus Opus. Judging from the complexity of just listening to the piece in its entirety, without having listened to his entire discography, I was already convinced that it was a masterpiece.

In the Opening, the Group goes all “space-age”, racing through a whole bunch of motifs and key changes. It literally starts off sounding like the cacophony from an oncoming train. It is a good introduction to the new line up and the vast array of sounds that they are capable of producing. (Until I watched the DVD version of this concert, it was nigh well impossible for me to know which instrument was producing which sound. The Ghostly whimpering from Cuong Vu’s trumpet is beautiful, and Metheny’s use of an E-Bow was a new experience for me).

Part I, starts off with the main theme (the first 4 minutes was the website snippet released to the public), played out in its simplistic beauty. A standout performance from Antonio Sanchez, his drum work sets this piece apart. Remaining as a force, ever present to guide the work through all its changes, and managing to keep it technical, but so very musical to even an untrained ear like mine.
This is the longest portion, but probably also the easiest for a person to digest first time around.

Part II - well, the crescendo about 2 minutes into it - presents us with a snippet of yet another theme, which is eventually fully elucidated in Part III. The Piano work of Lyle Mays is at its most beautiful and haunting within the relative stillness allowed in Part II. The PMG definitely “throws down” in Part II, guided first by Cuong Vu’s trumpeting, and then by the PMG lineup’s most unique inclusion - Greg Maret’s Harmonica. (Truthfully though, percussionist Nana Vasconcelo's "instrument" from Farmer's Trust, definitely takes the cake as strangest inclusion)

Part III begins with a deep resounding bass line and then settles into a full exploration of the aforementioned theme drawn from Part II. And towards the end, the wordless humming of the PMG draws us through to a beautiful climax: the main theme played out in beautiful artistic contemplation, each instrument adding its own nuance. Personally, hearing it lifts my soul each and every time: it is the crowning moment of a job well done. So much hope is imbued in the beautiful exploration of such a minute section.

I can certainly say that the first listen wasn’t easy …but this is not one of those pieces that you have to be trained to appreciate – the appreciation comes on its own. I once heard the expression,

Everytime you ought to rewind, you find there’s more to find

This work typifies that expression. It is so densely packed with planned nuances and little touches that are a joy to discover anytime you peruse through it. I have the joy of discovering each of these little jewels at my own pace, but I have to respect the genius who within a limited span of time planned for the pacing of it all, and the unity of the composition.

The Way Up, of late, has become something else to me – a source of hope. I recently listened to one of the PMG’s earlier recordings, where a nascent inkling of The Way Up’s main theme can distinctly be heard. This earlier recording predates the current release by about 30 years. To think that someone can be inspired so deeply, act on that inspiration, and not being satisfied retain that inspiration in his mind (allowing it to ruminate), and come back 30 years later and concoct a masterpiece…now that is certainly divine.

It gives me hope to think that perhaps the wisdom born of my mind and the yearning of my soul is indeed useful. I need to note down the vision, but I also have to be wary of what changes may come, and I might need some help clearing the vision up. I suspect that is what Lyle Mays is to Pat Metheny – a soundboard who understands what Pat’s vision is when everyone else might think he’s out of sorts.

5 years later, 5 years out of college, this masterpiece is always one I turn to, even while still discovering his earlier impressive discography that shows me what led up to the Magnus Opus.