Mahavishnu Orchestra
"The Lost Trident Sessions"
(Columbia/Legacy)
First things first, this album shreds. It's not often that a lost and forgotten classic finds the light of day a quarter century after being recorded, but that's what happened with the Mahavishnu Orchestra and "The Lost Trident Sessions." In 1973, guitarist John McLaughlin and his bandmates entered London's Trident Studios to record a follow-up to their highly acclaimed album, "Birds Of Fire." A bruising quintet that centered on the dazzling interplay between McLaughlin, keyboard player Jan Hammer, violinist Jerry Goodman, bassist Rick Laird and drummer Billy Cobham, the MO was an electrifying rock band in draped in jazz-fusion clothing. McLaughlin himself was already considered a virtuoso, having played on groundbreaking Miles Davis albums like "In A Silent Way" and "Bitches Brew." Armed with blinding speed and technical virtuosity to spare, he could (and would) bounce back and forth between sublime acoustic renderings and full-on metal assaults. An uncompromising bandleader, McLaughlin was reluctant to share songwriting duties with the group. After completing these recording sessions, the band was unable to agree on its release. Instead, the MO presented Columbia Records with a live recording that would serve as their third album, "Between Nothingness And Eternity." This would serve as the quintet's last official recording and the end of their imposing musical legacy, until now.
More than anything else, the original Mahavishnu Orchestra was a relentless touring organization. On the road constantly, the musical rapport that developed between members was nothing short of telepathic. Their instrumental call-and-response vocabulary became so intense that it was virtually impossible to distinguish McLaughlin's rapid-fire guitar from Jerry Goodman's screaming violin and the radical moog synthesizer work of Jan Hammer. With the brawny drum theatrics of Cobham and Rick Laird's fluid, probing bass guitar, there were no weak links in this fine-tuned music machine. As one of jazz-rock's prototypical ensembles, the Orchestra pioneered an aggressive style of soloing, often at extremely loud volume. Unfortunately, tensions within the group caused them to disband six months after the Trident Sessions were completed. The awesome music they made in London was caught in industry limbo, shelved, and completely forgotten. While three of the unearthed compositions did appear on the live album, there's really little to prepare one for the vigorous assault of these mythic studio recordings.
On the eleven-minute opus, "Dream," the group opens with a gentle acoustic display before getting down to the business at hand. Building towards the main theme in idyllic fashion, the soloists suddenly switch over to electric instruments as McLaughlin and Hammer jump out for the first of many impressive solos. Churning out evil, bluesy guitar chords and mindbending clusters of single-note excess over Cobham's machine-gun drumming, this is high decibel jamming worthy of Cream or Hendrix's Band Of Gypsies. If there had been just one incredibly expressive soloist featured in this band, they still would have been noteworthy. The fact that both Goodman and Hammer passionately excel on their instruments as much as McLaughlin did puts the MO in a class by themselves. Goodman matches McLaughlin note for note on both electric and acoustic violin, spurring the guitarist into some of his most raucous exhibitions to date. When the imposing front line of McLaughlin, Hammer and Goodman enter the song's coda in perfect unison over loping bass and drums, it's abundantly clear that the Mahavishnu Orchestra had become a marriage of equals.
On McLaughlin's "Trilogy" we're again exposed to the introspective and explosive aspects of the MO. Playing Eastern-inspired interludes and alternating dynamically between louder and softer passages, the band showcases a true melodic sensibility juxtaposed against the inherent tendency to jam like crazy. With Billy Cobham driving the band like there's no tomorrow, Goodman takes a scorching ride on the violin with McLaughlin and Hammer pouring it on behind him. Trading licks at blinding speed, Goodman, Hammer and McLaughlin totally lose themselves in one another's incendiary playing. McLaughlin's palette of savage tones and maniacal distortion occasionally overwhelms his comrades, but this only inspires them to push the instrumental envelope even further. While Laird's bass is often relegated to a supporting role, he keeps pace with the featured soloists and maintains a prominent position in the overall sound. On Hammer's composition "Sister Andrea" McLaughlin takes yet another spellbinding solo before the band's trademark atmospherics kick in to high gear. Although Hammer plays acoustic and electric piano with remarkable skill, his visionary work on synthesizer really stands out. Of course, Hammer went on to refine these rock-jazz techniques with Jeff Beck on the immortal album, 'Wired."
Five great musicians, one incredibly heavy band. While John McLaughlin kept the Mahavishnu Orchestra going long after these men parted company, his latter groups never attained the transcendent heights of the original quintet.
by Mitch Myers
copyright 1999 New City Communications, Inc.