On a cold spring night in 2022, the Ahmed Jazz Quartet [Ahmed] at one end of the long, narrow warehouse of Glasgow's industrial-chic Glue Factory. Their muse and namesake Ahmed Abdul-Malik was there in spirit. The setlist consisted of just one song: the late jazz musician's “Oud Blues,” which runs about four minutes in the original 1961 version. So far احمد [Ahmed] they were done with it, they had been playing for almost an hour.
Wood blues is a recording of this stunning performance – at once a cover song, an avant-garde improvisation session and a driving jazz concert. Ahmed [Ahmed] have been honing the conceit for a decade: At every show, they pick an Abdul-Malik composition and turn it inside out. Pianist Pat Thomas discovered the little-known bassist and udonist in the 1980s and immediately recognized his importance. Born Jonathan Tim, Jr. in Brooklyn to immigrant parents, Abdul-Malik changed his name to affirm his Islamic identity and Sudanese ancestry. His family was from the Caribbean, not Sudan, but he reached further back, reclaiming his diasporic African heritage. As a bandleader, Abdul-Malik incorporated Arabic instruments into his ensembles—kanun, darbuka, a violin tuned in fourths and fifths. His late 50's and early 60's albums like Jazz Sahara and East meets West introduced the new form of modal jazz alongside the landmark recordings of Miles Davis and John Coltrane.
Thomas wanted to revive Abdul-Malik's music, to turn a footnote into a title. Saxophonist Seymour Wright shared his interest and joined Thomas Smith's trio [ISM]with bassist Joel Grip and drummer Antonin Gerbal, forming احمد [Ahmed]. Together, they are something of a supergroup, each player a star in a different constellation of the European improvised music scene. They only play live, without practice or advance planning. But from their separate cities—Thomas and Wright in London, Grip in Berlin, Gerbal in Paris—they always think of Abdul-Malik. When they play one of his songs, all that thinking comes out in a torrent of sound.
Wood blues it's both thrillingly violent and fervently faithful to Abdul-Malik's transformations of the material, altering the original beyond recognition while keeping its spirit alive. The recording begins with the audience chattering as Grip plays the bass of “Oud Blues”. Thomas adds melodic piano flourishes and Gerbal lays down a shuffled beat. Wright supports with short percussive clicks from his sax, then expands those clicks into bursts, trading licks with Thomas, who hits the keys with increasing force. There is a shift in the hall as the audience falls silent. Piano and sax merge into a single pounding attack. Gerbal keeps time with a steady tom-tom beat, and Grip carries the melody into battle. The moment can't last long, and soon the band is moving from a frenzied rhythm, Thomas pounding the piano, Wright blowing with terrifying force, the crowd now shouting, screaming, dancing.