In Music Peter Roth Trio - Group Chat

 A Conversation in Music 

How strange: you type in "Pete Roth Trio," a match pops up, you hit buy, and it's there effortlessly, no fanfare, just music pouring out. The music itself is a lot like that.  

"Improvisation on the  Largo from the New World Symphony" sounds like three people looking at each other across a room and going, I will do this bit,  you do that. Very organic, spontaneous and collegiate. The mood of this piece is languid, like a late-summer afternoon lying on the grass and looking at the sun. It briefly reminds you of the tune it's based on.  That done, it stops. I love how this music stops just when it should.

Part of the charm is its playfulness: spindly guitar, oozing the tune; the drummer rides along in the shadows, but when the guitarist ignites, bass and drums push him upwards, another one of many examples of musical empathy- then, when the ride returns, the drummer has a few moments at code red, but it's never obviously a drum featurette.   

"Dancing with Grace" appears to be searching for a blues idiom; the most understated guitar playing ascends, moves into a smooch, and the drummer just ticks along. 

You might need an ego to plug in and play, but what flies between these three isn't ego; it's supportive, undistracting, accommodating, and highly appropriate. The drummer snaps away whilst the bass adds a few extra modest, rich, warm flourishes. Because the guitarist isn't screaming at you, the music frequently creates that kind of space. I would say it's a hallmark—the absence of noise.

"Original Sin" rides along on the nagging bass riff; the guitar buzzes gently around and keeps playing what are loosely known as guitar solos. At first, they're warm and gentle, but they grow more intense, riding higher and higher. As a consequence, the drummer gets more excited, with an extra roll, the slightest hint of polyrhythmic vitesse and then slides back before the most charming, romantic, elegant interlude returns, which stops just when it should; With the ride along, the guitar riffs in a kind of deep echo from Clapton in 69. The drummer wakes up, rolls and pushes, and then we stop. This team is definitely not afraid of discipline.

"Group Chat" begins with intense, nagging riffs and repeatedly breaks out into some nice lyricism; the drummer even throws in some delightful snare drum rolls. Then comes some funk, jangling bass, and echoing, repeating neurotic guitar, but the lyricism hinted at so briefly earlier comes out and delivers the full works—a wonderful payoff moment. Intuitive musicians knowing exactly how to deliver.

They may be understated, always playing the percentages correctly, possibly 60% sound, 40% the absence of, but on Summertime they remind you we know music, we know tunes, and we can give it some poke. The bass plays the tune, the drummer plays the tune, the guitar improvises around it, playing earthy dark sounds. It's at times funky. You could dance to this.     

"Hardcase, soft centre." The drummer stays in familiar territory, with a fast-paced ascending shuffle propelling the music at a nice pace until it calms right down into an exploratory lullaby. These conversations are so open you are drawn to sit in the middle of the music. Aggh, we are off again; the drummer propels the music forward, a nagging motif from the guitar, then a more muscular approach and the drummer, as he always has, will clatter the tune. The hardcase returns and ascends. By now you know it's going to end just when it should, and it doesn't disappoint.  

Fabulous, spacious, intelligent conversations—full of confidence, patience, and no desperation—and it's fascinating how the three talk to each other; it draws you in to join them and listen—repeatedly.   

How lovely to write about music again and to hear the drummer play again.