This album by pianist Paul Bley was recorded in Italy in 1989. The album nearly floats on the strength of its clarity and warmth. The title song opens a set that moves into a procession of largely blues-based pieces. Though Bley has often eschewed some traditional blues forms, he has always been a blues-based artist at his core....
That pianist Paul Bley, reedman Evan Parker, and bassist Barre Phillips had never played as a group before flipping the coin of Time Will Tell matters little. Whether you call heads or tails, you win. The fact that Phillips had played with the two who hadn’t emerges through the sensitive approach he elicits from each. By the same token, one cannot simply say that he tempers what we might be expecting from two powerhouses of the free improv universe. Rather, he spotlights the tenderness already flowing within.
Although four musicians are listed for this date (Jimmy Giuffre, altoist Lee Konitz, guitarist Bill Connors and pianist Paul Bley), these five performances are actually a set of duets featuring Giuffre on tenor, clarinet, bass flute and soprano interacting with the other players. Three songs are duets with Konitz (there is also one apiece with Bley and Connors), including "Blues In the Closet," and these are the main reasons to acquire this disc. The CD reissue is an exact duplicate of the original LP, with just 37 minutes of music, but it is definitely worth hearing. This was the final release by Bley's Improvising Artists label.
When one considers the instrumentation (alto, piano and guitar) and the personnel (Bob Mover, Paul Bley and John Abercrombie), it is not surprising that this date is full of thoughtful, chance-taking and often lyrical improvisations. Most of the selections are either duets or unaccompanied solos, and although there are some melodies, the music was pretty much all improvised on the spot. An intriguing set.
A surprising album from Bley, long considered an outside player with little, if any, affinity for straight bop. He shatters that myth on this set, going through a dozen songs, including such anthems as "Ornithology" and "The Theme," with vigor, harmonic distinction, and rhythmic edge. He's brilliantly backed by bassist Bob Cranshaw, providing some of his best, least detached playing in quite a while, and drummer Keith Copeland, navigating the tricky changes with grace.