Review: Julian Arg?elles’ Tetra, Lantern

When saxophonist Julian Arguelles was the age of his three Tetra sidemen he’d already established a name through his role in the legendary Loose Tubes big band. He’d also been associated with London’s important community of exiled South African musicians, whose joyful township influence had brought a distinctive energy and joyful new direction to UK jazz and as a bandleader had released his solo debut Phaedrus. All of these elements figured somewhere in the course of Tetra’s 90 minutes at The Lantern, but the band was far from a deferential trio of early-thirty-somethings in the shadow of a venerable senior player. Argüelles’ new quartet is a well-matched bunch of ear-snaring talents within which the saxophonist is comfortable to play an equal role, albeit in a set of his own compositions.

Thus pianist Kit Downes confidently added a jazz overlay to Julian’s distinctly flamenco introduction to Bulerias, echoing some of the baroque hints from the saxophone and bringing the tune back to its urgent Arabic heart. Kit also distinguished himself on Mr Mac, catching the spirit and style of the late Chris McGregor’s township-flavoured piano for the number as well as feeding unobtrusively off a rocket-propelled solo from Sam Lasserson that left the young bassist with a well-deserved smile on his face. 

And there was plenty more to smile about, with top marks for cheek stretching going, inevitably, to James Maddren, the ubiquitous drummer who seems to enjoy himself whenever he plays. James’ versatility enabled him to move from restrained micro-drumming for the beautifully melodic Lardy Dardy to full-tilt Buddy Rich bombast modulating into fast swing on Triality. This was a tightly-written fast number in the Blue Note style deconstructed through changes of dynamic and beats as if to throw off the listener. As befits such smart cookies it was knowing stuff that allowed Arguelles the space to stretch out with some Sonny Rollins style torrents fuelled by Maddren’s razor sharp drumming.

It was interesting to hear Phaedrus revisited some two decades after it was written, the sinuous melody falling into a ghostly deconstruction of itself sketched by their collective insinuations. Interestingly the composer himself stepped away into the shadows early in the tune, leaving the piano trio to develop the music – a gesture of handing something on, perhaps, that was clearly well received by musicians and audience alike. Equally pleasing was the unnamed encore, a straightforward township workout to close proceedings in a wash of the heart-warming joyousness of that style.

With Julian Arguelles you can always take the musicianship for granted – he has an assurance of tone and an unmatched ear for well-crafted lyricism – and his choice of bandmates has always been impeccable. There’s also a heart-on-the-sleeve honesty in his playing that avoids unnecessary bravura in favour of emotional directness. All of this pretty much guarantees a top quality experience, but what was also interesting about Tetra was a sense of conscious autobiography that included his Spanish family origins, the grounding in South African jazz, his early compositions and even his tribute tune to his father. These scrapbook pages provided an insight into the man we were watching and his music, within which such inspirational roots were easily traced, and thus perhaps explained the apparent timelessness of a career that remains fresh thanks to a commitment to beautiful and affirmative music.