Ralph Towner

It might be tempting to dismiss this Ralph Towner effort as New Age fluff, but the music is so gorgeous that any such considerations fall to the wayside. Yet the wayside is precisely where Towner sets his sights, which is to say that his interest lies in edges where musical idioms meet. He explores these lines, not unlike the blotted cover, with an ease of diction at the fret board that is recognizable and comforting. Drummer Peter Erskine shares the bill, but Towner adds a few synth touches for broader effect, as in “The Sigh,” which opens the session in a cleft of fluid energy.

An ECM artist for his entire musical career, US guitarist Ralph Towner has built up a unique body of work in his recordings for the label. Central to his oeuvre are his solo albums, the first of which, Diary, was issued 50 years ago. At First Light extends this great tradition, drawing inspiration from a broad palette of music. “My solo recordings have always included my own compositions in which there are trace elements of the many composers and musicians that have attracted me,” writes Towner in a liner note, citing the influence of, among others, George Gershwin, John Coltrane, John Dowland and Bill Evans: “I feel that At First Light is a good example of shaping this expanse of influences into my personal music.” In addition to his own pieces, Towner also plays Hoagy Carmichael’s “Little Old Lady”, Jule Styne’s “Make Someone Happy” and the traditional tune “Danny Boy.” Recorded at Auditorio Stelio Molo RSI, Lugano, in February 2022, At First Light was produced by Manfred Eicher.

John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner have forever been tied to the ECM roster as leaders and individualists, and initially it was hard to imagine their styles being compatible. As an amplified electric guitarist, Abercrombie's steely, sometime unearthly sound was an uneven puzzle piece alongside the graphic, stoic, classically oriented style of Towner. Yet on Sargasso Sea, there are several instances where they merge together as one, feeling their way through pure improvisations, angular and colorful motifs, or thematic nuances and a certain strata of consciousness that makes a world of common sense. There are selections where they both play acoustic guitars, but it is mostly Abercrombie's hopped up sound through an amp over Towner's bold and beautiful unplugged instrument, tossing in a piano overdubbed on two tracks…

John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner have forever been tied to the ECM roster as leaders and individualists, and initially it was hard to imagine their styles being compatible. As an amplified electric guitarist, Abercrombie's steely, sometime unearthly sound was an uneven puzzle piece alongside the graphic, stoic, classically oriented style of Towner. Yet on Sargasso Sea, there are several instances where they merge together as one, feeling their way through pure improvisations, angular and colorful motifs, or thematic nuances and a certain strata of consciousness that makes a world of common sense. There are selections where they both play acoustic guitars, but it is mostly Abercrombie's hopped up sound through an amp over Towner's bold and beautiful unplugged instrument, tossing in a piano overdubbed on two tracks…

On this solo recording, Ralph Towner returns to the elementary sounds of his classical and 12-string guitars for inspiration. Though an accomplished pianist, French horn, and trumpet player, Towner has left all of them out of Anthem's stark mix. And it's a good thing too. There was a time when his love of the Prophet V synthesizer and his piano improvisations covered over the gracefulness of his trademark signature on the guitar.

If there were ever any doubts as to Ralph Towner’s consummate abilities, though one would need to travel far to encounter them, they can only have been put to rest with the release of Blue Sun. A near highpoint in Towner’s extensive discography, it might have shared the summit of 1980’s Solo Concert were it not for a few frayed threads. Towner’s compositions are already so harmonically dense in their solo form that other instruments merely externalize what is already so internally apparent to them, so that the intimate pickings of “The Prince And The Sage,” “Mevlana Etude,” and “Wedding Of The Streams” hover most clearly before our ears. At the same time, there is something skeletal about his playing that cries for flesh. Not for want of completeness, nor out of lack, but rather through the his balance and inward posture, a flower-like duplicity that embraces both blooming and wilting in the same breath.