Gross Means by Gerald Bailey

WHAT breed of album is this you hold in your hands? Gerald Bailey, the leader on these sides setting the proceedings aglow with golden lines pulled down from inspiration's ethereal Dionysian nirvana, is a trumpeter cast in the Miles Davis cool bop mold. Exercising the limitations of those three storied valves, he wrenches immense melancholy blue and rough diamonds out of his brightly shining communicator hewn from brass. Bailey's hip-hop-informed, self-described "bedroom jazz" strongly reflects 20th Century, northeastern Tri-State boom-bap, in its cyclical auditory structures and varied, emotional tonality. On Gross Means Bailey's constructed a run of characteristics in contrast, balancing brilliantly soulful modes of both robotic-electronic and chilled-smooth organic sonic nature 'n'texture.

A short few years have passed since the journeyman musician and multi-instrumentalist's last creation, Climate Migration, though much has changed in the world. Gross Means portrays these changes, as they affected the world and affected the artist. The quiet and shifting tides of pandemic and post-pandemic shutdown tempered creation somewhat, yet the strident, bright'n' lively thrum'n'clatter of Migration Climate remains. In-on Gross Means these sounds are marginally supplanted by an introspective, groove-based drive brought on by forced hermetic isolation. These raw, minute musical morsels, are informed by a necessary revolution in the mind's eye-in reaction to daily struggles and time-poorness-navigating the inner sanctum and finding their way earthside, with hypnotic, mood-evoking compositions.

Of Gross Means' moods, there's a concentrated righteous anger periodically more prevalent in Bailey's horn work blowing skyward past the stars ("Sandboxing"), where Migrant offered more muted modes, and previous clouded shades become thunderous claps ("Raised By Conservatives"). These changes decorate Bailey's loose-limbed, clattering percussion and concise, studied minimalism, among them deconstructed Louisianan Second Line rhythms ("Lost Gold"), the ominous, 'ambient industrial'-slanted apocalyptics of "Bench Seat," mellow glimmers of Mulatu Astatke's hypnotic Ethiopian jazz ("One Weak Vacay"), and the spiritual sunshine vibrations of "Sitcom Saturday" buttoning up the proceedings. Gross Means is transporting, existing after the bell's of business have rung for the day, on darkened steam-filled streets, weaving its heartfelt, lyrical voicings of hope in life's cycles, juxtaposed with the clattershot percussive activity of internal mania.

Expanding'n'augmenting Bailey's own varied contributions is a small cast of celebrated colleagues, aside his own bass guitar, drums, Auto, PVC bass Aute, Augabone, Augelhorn, Aute, toy Grand Piano, and synths (Fender Rhodes, Roland Juno-106, Teenage Engineering OP-1), as well as trumpet. Those players provide additional drum assistance (David Ageo, Dan Bailey, Harry James-the latter additionally supplying the evocative cover art collage), synth textures (Chris Geddes, Kyle Hodges), bass (Jake Vinsel), flute (Brad Wagner), burns'n'turns "free" ('ly) on sax over'n'across "Decorator Crabs," while remaining tethered to tradition he most notably an arranger for several Lady Gaga compositions).

Potions Music, and the artist, have bestowed upon me the honor of preparing you for a deep head-nod with deep thoughts in tow, grokking an artist who, without words, taps into the primal ID. These moments are exciting, unique, and rare, where creation facilitates an intuitive love affair with the listener. At the closing of the album you'll find yourself light, fulfilled, conflicted, perhaps even ready for action, intoxicated by Gross Means' post-hip-hop jazz serving a bona fide electrophonic tonic.

With L.U.V.,

Jeremeigh A.M. Kergylle, Got Kinda Lost Records

Summer 2024 (Chicago, IL)

Chicago based composer and trumpet player Gerald Bailey currently leads several groups combining acoustic instruments, jazz and music technology.