Orrin Evans and the Captain Black Big Band: Walk a Mile in My Shoe review – perseverance and Philly pride (Imani Records) ****

Evans’ soulful and communal album explores his health condition with the help of A-list instrumentalists and vocal stars including Bilal and the legendary Lisa Fischer 

 ‘This record is me opening the door into what I’ve lived with for years,” says the Philadelphia-raised pianist and composer Orrin Evans of his long-running  https://www.theguardian.com/music/2018/nov/23/orrin-evans-and-the-captain-black-big-band-review-hooky-grooves-and-improv-charm" rel="nofollow - Captain Black Big Band’s  fifth release, Walk a Mile in My Shoe. Evans, 49, is acknowledging his neurofibromatosis, mercifully restricted in the pianist’s case to his left foot, but a brake on this fine musician’s life and mobility from birth. Yet despite these sober origins, this vocal-dominated tracklist is even more soulfully and communally spirited than this earthy outfit usually are.

Evans thus raises the notion of walking as a symbol of perseverance and pride everywhere in life, and Philadelphia represents for him the legendarily musical place where much of his significant walking has happened. A diverse cast of his home town’s vocal stars participate, including neo-soul singer Bilal, the jazzily swinging Joanna Pascale and rugged blues artist Paul Jost, alongside the band’s A-list of local instrumentalists. The vocal standout, however, is  https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jun/08/lisa-fischer-on-life-in-the-shadows-of-the-stones-and-tina-turner-i-got-used-to-keeping-quiet" rel="nofollow - Lisa Fischer , an illustrious singer (for the Stones, Tina Turner, Sting and many others) ducking and diving from unnerving falsettos to resonant low-end whispers on Blues in the Night, and gracefully dancing with guest trumpeter Nicholas Payton on Stevie Wonder’s Overjoyed.

On Dislocation Blues, Jost’s lamenting lines roll over pianist Evans’ and organist Jesse Fischer’s crisply swapped blues fills before the band slam in; Payton’s muted trumpet curls around Bilal’s poignant account of All That I Am. Meanwhile the band’s call-and-response exchanges in that song, and Evans’ and alto saxist Todd Bashore’s startling solos on former band-member John Raymond’s dreamily dirgey Hymn, are sublime. Maybe there’s a vocal or two too many here for some jazzers, but they don’t overwhelm the improv and arranging class of this intuitively inventive band.

from www.theguardian.com