David Gilmore Group

By NATE CHINEN (May 10, 2006)

The jazz guitarist David Gilmore has worked with a
roll call of groove-minded progressives over the last
20 years, appearing on numerous heralded albums.
But his discography as a solo artist consists of a
single title, "Ritualism," which he produced and
released himself in 2001.
That would be an unusually slender output for any
experienced jazz musician; for a musician of Mr.
Gilmore's caliber, it's virtually anemic. So it came as
good news that his second album was finally
scheduled to arrive. Just as heartening was the sampling of new music from the
album that Mr. Gilmore offered at the Jazz Gallery on Saturday night.
There were just five compositions in the first set, but each was sturdy and
serious, and distinct from the rest. What they all had in common was a driving
propulsion, a result of Mr. Gilmore's interaction with Brad Jones on bass and
Terreon Gully on drums. Most of the tunes also featured sophisticated rhythmic
frameworks; "Vertical Path," for instance, packed each measure with
subdivisions of four and five beats, and then further complicated the ensuing
meter with a recurring syncopation.
If it sounds tricky, that seems to be the point. While the current jazz fashion is
to streamline uneven time signatures, Mr. Gilmore structures his pieces so that
every irregularity produces a useful tension. That might suggest a throwback to
1970's fusion, but there's a crucial twist: as a guitarist, Mr. Gilmore often uses
the clear tone and fierce attack of George Benson in his early hard-bop phase.
That soulfully articulate style was another rewarding constant on Saturday
night. Mr. Gilmore used it to best effect on "Snake Theory," an angular theme
with a crackling hip-hop beat, and "Protean Way," a slippery piece that was
imbued with bluesy flourishes by the pianist Luis Perdomo. Each of those tunes
featured an intricate melodic line played in unison by Mr. Gilmore and Ravi
Coltrane, on soprano saxophone.
Mr. Coltrane and Mr. Perdomo sat out a piece in which Mr. Gilmore
demonstrated some African-derived thumb-and-finger picking. They returned for
"The Eleventh-Hour Blues," a swift modal workout with a slight resemblance to
John Coltrane's "Mr. P. C."
Naturally, John's son Ravi, playing tenor, laid into it from the start. His solo
was a depth charge, peaking in intensity during a stretch where the bass and
piano dropped out, leaving only Mr. Gully's thrashing drums and cymbals.
Mr. Gilmore was impressive on "The Eleventh-Hour Blues" too, working with a
stream of eighth notes, a succession of pecking phrases and some shapeshifting
chord arpeggios.
But if the song's title reveals anything about his working methods, let this
announcement serve as motivation: Mr. Gilmore's new album is due on Mr.
Coltrane's RKM label in the next couple of months. The clock strikes 12, not a
moment too soon. - The New York Times

By NATE CHINEN (May 10, 2006)

The jazz guitarist David Gilmore has worked with a
roll call of groove-minded progressives over the last
20 years, appearing on numerous heralded albums.
But his discography as a solo artist consists of a
single title, "Ritualism," which he produced and
released himself in 2001.
That would be an unusually slender output for any
experienced jazz musician; for a musician of Mr.
Gilmore's caliber, it's virtually anemic. So it came as
good news that his second album was finally
scheduled to arrive. Just as heartening was the sampling of new music from the
album that Mr. Gilmore offered at the Jazz Gallery on Saturday night.
There were just five compositions in the first set, but each was sturdy and
serious, and distinct from the rest. What they all had in common was a driving
propulsion, a result of Mr. Gilmore's interaction with Brad Jones on bass and
Terreon Gully on drums. Most of the tunes also featured sophisticated rhythmic
frameworks; "Vertical Path," for instance, packed each measure with
subdivisions of four and five beats, and then further complicated the ensuing
meter with a recurring syncopation.
If it sounds tricky, that seems to be the point. While the current jazz fashion is
to streamline uneven time signatures, Mr. Gilmore structures his pieces so that
every irregularity produces a useful tension. That might suggest a throwback to
1970's fusion, but there's a crucial twist: as a guitarist, Mr. Gilmore often uses
the clear tone and fierce attack of George Benson in his early hard-bop phase.
That soulfully articulate style was another rewarding constant on Saturday
night. Mr. Gilmore used it to best effect on "Snake Theory," an angular theme
with a crackling hip-hop beat, and "Protean Way," a slippery piece that was
imbued with bluesy flourishes by the pianist Luis Perdomo. Each of those tunes
featured an intricate melodic line played in unison by Mr. Gilmore and Ravi
Coltrane, on soprano saxophone.
Mr. Coltrane and Mr. Perdomo sat out a piece in which Mr. Gilmore
demonstrated some African-derived thumb-and-finger picking. They returned for
"The Eleventh-Hour Blues," a swift modal workout with a slight resemblance to
John Coltrane's "Mr. P. C."
Naturally, John's son Ravi, playing tenor, laid into it from the start. His solo
was a depth charge, peaking in intensity during a stretch where the bass and
piano dropped out, leaving only Mr. Gully's thrashing drums and cymbals.
Mr. Gilmore was impressive on "The Eleventh-Hour Blues" too, working with a
stream of eighth notes, a succession of pecking phrases and some shapeshifting
chord arpeggios.
But if the song's title reveals anything about his working methods, let this
announcement serve as motivation: Mr. Gilmore's new album is due on Mr.
Coltrane's RKM label in the next couple of months. The clock strikes 12, not a
moment too soon. - The New York Times

by Marty Cutler

IT’S ONE THING TO PLAYINTRICATE POLYRHYTHMS
over shifting, complex meters. It’s quite another to
groove so naturally in that environment that the listener
is drawn into the pulse without counting or trying to
quantify the feel. David Gilmore does all that, as well
as weaving lyrical, yet earthy lines through lush
harmonic structures—which has helped him back up
artists as diverse as Joss Stone, Don Byron, Wayne
Shorter, Mavis Staples, Steve Coleman’s M-Base
Collective, Melissa Etheridge, and Trilok Gurtu. His
tones range from edgy and distorted to mellow and
clean, and his playing reveals echoes of Grant Green,
Pat Martino, Miles Davis-era Pete Cosey, and B.B.
King. However, as influenced by his classical
percussionist father, Gilmore’s musical life began by
banging on pots and pans.
“When I was 14 or 15, I picked up the beat-up guitar my sister had been taking lessons on,”
he explains. “It’s not like I heard Jimi and thought, ‘That’s what I want to do!’ I had been
playing drums for a couple of years, but I started playing more guitar when my brother began
playing more drums, and then I just took off with it.”
Before long, Gilmore began studying with Berklee College of Music’s John Baboian, who
introduced him to jazz. (The guitarist currently teaches at Berklee alongside his former mentor.)
Gilmore listened to pop and funk while in high school, but he also discovered jazz-fusion bands
such as the Mahavishnu Orchestra and Return to Forever, which exposed him to playing in odd
meters. “I gravitated toward different meters when I started getting into jazz, and when I got to
New York, I hooked up with Steve Coleman and M-Base Collective, who were exploring them
in depth,” says Gilmore.
“Sometimes it can sound very stiff and contrived when a player or composer is not very
comfortable in those meters, and they need some sort of anchor point to stay in the rhythmic
form. You have to develop techniques for feeling and internalizing rhythms, because,
ultimately, you don’t want to count. You have to feel rhythms in your body.”
“When I sit down to write a piece of
music, however, I’m not consciously
thinking of 7/4 or 5/4. I’ll hear an idea,
and put it down in some form—using a
guitar or a sequencer—and, later on, I’ll
figure out what meter it’s in and write it
out. Also, meters can usually be written
in more than one way. For example,
‘Vertical Path,’ the first tune on my new
album, Unified Presence [RKM], is in
9/4. But you could easily write it out in
compound meter as 5/4 plus 4/4. Or,
you could subdivide it into 4.5/4—
where there would be short beats and
long beats—but it still works out
mathematically to 9/8.”
Given Gilmore’s predilection for
complex rhythms and rich harmonic structures, it’s no surprise that he often experiments with
musical concepts. “On my previous album, Ritualism, I mixed in some of the ideas I developed
while working with M-Base, such as cell notation, in which the note relationships are written in
terms of half-step intervals up or down from a given note,” he says. “For example, D is two
half-steps above C, so you’d write it as C 2. Identifying the number of half steps gives you
information you can use to take the harmony in different directions. If you view the groupings
in terms of their relationships with each other, you could go in the opposite direction, or invert
them. This is nothing new. A lot of this comes from Bartok, who applied these concepts to
Hungarian folk melodies.”
Although clean acoustic and electric guitar tones predominate on Unified
Presence, Gilmore is no stranger to music technology. On an upcoming
album by his band Kindred Spirits—featuring bassist Matt Garrison, tabla
master Aref Durvesh, and his brother Marque Gilmore on drums—the
guitarist blends live and software instruments to find new sounds. “I’m using
Roland’s GI-20 Guitar-MIDI Interface, which gives me access to numerous
software synthesizers— including most of the built-in sounds in Apple Logic,
all of the Native Instruments stuff, and Spectrasonics Stylus RMX,” details
Gilmore. “I’m getting back into using guitar synths again, but in a way that’s
more organic by morphing synth sounds with guitar sounds.”
- Guitar Guitar Magazine/ May 2007

by Marty Cutler

IT’S ONE THING TO PLAYINTRICATE POLYRHYTHMS
over shifting, complex meters. It’s quite another to
groove so naturally in that environment that the listener
is drawn into the pulse without counting or trying to
quantify the feel. David Gilmore does all that, as well
as weaving lyrical, yet earthy lines through lush
harmonic structures—which has helped him back up
artists as diverse as Joss Stone, Don Byron, Wayne
Shorter, Mavis Staples, Steve Coleman’s M-Base
Collective, Melissa Etheridge, and Trilok Gurtu. His
tones range from edgy and distorted to mellow and
clean, and his playing reveals echoes of Grant Green,
Pat Martino, Miles Davis-era Pete Cosey, and B.B.
King. However, as influenced by his classical
percussionist father, Gilmore’s musical life began by
banging on pots and pans.
“When I was 14 or 15, I picked up the beat-up guitar my sister had been taking lessons on,”
he explains. “It’s not like I heard Jimi and thought, ‘That’s what I want to do!’ I had been
playing drums for a couple of years, but I started playing more guitar when my brother began
playing more drums, and then I just took off with it.”
Before long, Gilmore began studying with Berklee College of Music’s John Baboian, who
introduced him to jazz. (The guitarist currently teaches at Berklee alongside his former mentor.)
Gilmore listened to pop and funk while in high school, but he also discovered jazz-fusion bands
such as the Mahavishnu Orchestra and Return to Forever, which exposed him to playing in odd
meters. “I gravitated toward different meters when I started getting into jazz, and when I got to
New York, I hooked up with Steve Coleman and M-Base Collective, who were exploring them
in depth,” says Gilmore.
“Sometimes it can sound very stiff and contrived when a player or composer is not very
comfortable in those meters, and they need some sort of anchor point to stay in the rhythmic
form. You have to develop techniques for feeling and internalizing rhythms, because,
ultimately, you don’t want to count. You have to feel rhythms in your body.”
“When I sit down to write a piece of
music, however, I’m not consciously
thinking of 7/4 or 5/4. I’ll hear an idea,
and put it down in some form—using a
guitar or a sequencer—and, later on, I’ll
figure out what meter it’s in and write it
out. Also, meters can usually be written
in more than one way. For example,
‘Vertical Path,’ the first tune on my new
album, Unified Presence [RKM], is in
9/4. But you could easily write it out in
compound meter as 5/4 plus 4/4. Or,
you could subdivide it into 4.5/4—
where there would be short beats and
long beats—but it still works out
mathematically to 9/8.”
Given Gilmore’s predilection for
complex rhythms and rich harmonic structures, it’s no surprise that he often experiments with
musical concepts. “On my previous album, Ritualism, I mixed in some of the ideas I developed
while working with M-Base, such as cell notation, in which the note relationships are written in
terms of half-step intervals up or down from a given note,” he says. “For example, D is two
half-steps above C, so you’d write it as C 2. Identifying the number of half steps gives you
information you can use to take the harmony in different directions. If you view the groupings
in terms of their relationships with each other, you could go in the opposite direction, or invert
them. This is nothing new. A lot of this comes from Bartok, who applied these concepts to
Hungarian folk melodies.”
Although clean acoustic and electric guitar tones predominate on Unified
Presence, Gilmore is no stranger to music technology. On an upcoming
album by his band Kindred Spirits—featuring bassist Matt Garrison, tabla
master Aref Durvesh, and his brother Marque Gilmore on drums—the
guitarist blends live and software instruments to find new sounds. “I’m using
Roland’s GI-20 Guitar-MIDI Interface, which gives me access to numerous
software synthesizers— including most of the built-in sounds in Apple Logic,
all of the Native Instruments stuff, and Spectrasonics Stylus RMX,” details
Gilmore. “I’m getting back into using guitar synths again, but in a way that’s
more organic by morphing synth sounds with guitar sounds.”
- Guitar Guitar Magazine/ May 2007

By Phil DiPietro: November 21, 2006

Let’s break it down. You won’t find this statement in
David Gilmore’s bio or on his website, but here it is:
Gilmore is one of the baddest guitarists on the planet.
Here’s why—rhythmic acuity. If I were to write a book on jazz, one of its
chapters would be titled “Instrumentalists Who Play Linear Rhythms,” or maybe
“Harmony As A Drum.” I’m talking about players like Vijay Iyer or Marc Cary
on piano, saxophonists like Rudresh Mahanthappa and Steve Coleman, and
guitarists like Gilmore and... well, who else exactly?
The blank is pretty big. Certainly, there is a long list of musicians who move a
lot of air in their lines, who weave in and out of rhythm masterfully, with
impeccable command of time. Gilmore comfortably fits in this category. But
let’s take this observation to the next level—to the guitar as drum. This doesn't
refer exclusively to chordal or “rhythm” playing, but playing the linear line, the
single notes, as a rhythm—at times locking with the dominant rhythm and at
others interlacing, or speeding ahead and then throttling back, connecting
perfectly to the “lock” of the bass and drum.
Put another way, Gilmore’s 8th, 16th, 32nd and 64th note lines are not merely
that: they have their own groove, their own “pocket.” Gilmore's burning
rhythmic intent is something very few other players display, or even have at
their disposal. And if they do have it, they cannot use it as consistently and as
stunningly as he can.
Gilmore's rhythmic acuity is based on family tradition—passed down from a
father who is a graduate of the New England Conservatory in percussion, and
a brother, Marque, who has played with Graham Haynes and Sting, and who
is one of the world’s elite drummers. David Gilmore himself began as a
drummer, and in a sense, he’s still at it.
Here’s another thing. Gilmore has a deep and abiding respect for the jazz
guitar tradition, especially the fat-bodied bop kind...
Gilmore also falls in the
tradition of guitarists who are
unabashed in their spirituality.
But his is refreshingly dogmafree.
Take this quote, regarding
the title of this recording, from
the stellar liner notes by Bill
Milkowski: “Unified Presence to
me refers to the spirit, the
universal mind, the universal
presence of consciousness
within all of humanity. And it suggests that we are ascending to a level of
oneness, if you will. It also refers to the unified presence of the musicians on
the record, and that musical in general is a unifying force. It’s a language that
transcends all languages.”
It's these three elements—the sophisticated and ever-present rhythmic emphasis,
the bop essence and an accepting spirituality—that combine to impart the
palpable aura of mystic intensity pervading the Unified Presence session,
pushing it into the circle of the premier releases of 2006.
For this project, Gilmore has plucked mightily from his circle of gifted friends to
form a band capable of transmitting his complex (this is some difficult music to
execute) yet hard-grooving (not so difficult to listen to) offerings. One of
bassist’s Christian McBride’s recordings, starring Gilmore, is called Vertical
Vision, and Unified Presence begins with the leader ripping his axe some new
F-holes through an odd-metered 3-D chessboard of “Vertical Path,” with his trio
line-up of McBride and drummer Jeff “Tain” Watts.
But the tone and the vibe here are not so reckless as on Ritualism, Gilmore's
previous disc. That’s due to the aforementioned bop element centering the tone
and leavening the vibe. There are complex, odd-time, unison passages melding
to 4:4 walking-bass swing, then shifting to intricate bridges, but all are ball-and-chained to McBride’s cavernous acoustic sound and Tain’s rocking ride
cymbal. As the performance moves through Gilmore’s dancing solo, into
McBride’s, rendering the massive instrument to his will, to Watts' trading of notfours
with the duo, you can imagine each member confidently smiling,
effortlessly navigating and grooving this thicket of form.
The second track, “Protean Way,” offers a welcome opportunity to take a
deep breath. With a cadence that inhales and exhales, saxophonist Ravi
Coltrane massages the melodic line and the listener with his soprano. A brave
cat to have ever considered picking up that instrument, Coltrane now has his
own patent on the Coltrane family soprano glow. Here he progressively builds
to controlled fever pitch, wending his way angularly through the harmony.
Besides his musical contributions, Coltrane can take credit for presenting
Gilmore at a level concomitant with his talent, assembling and releasing
Unified Presence on his own RKM imprint. The musical bond between the pair
peaked this summer when the two players did a string of dates and a weeklong
engagement at New York’s Birdland, as co-leaders of a quintet including Luis
Perdomo, Drew Gress and EJ Strickland.
Want easily digestible comple - AllAboutJazz

By Phil DiPietro: November 21, 2006

Let’s break it down. You won’t find this statement in
David Gilmore’s bio or on his website, but here it is:
Gilmore is one of the baddest guitarists on the planet.
Here’s why—rhythmic acuity. If I were to write a book on jazz, one of its
chapters would be titled “Instrumentalists Who Play Linear Rhythms,” or maybe
“Harmony As A Drum.” I’m talking about players like Vijay Iyer or Marc Cary
on piano, saxophonists like Rudresh Mahanthappa and Steve Coleman, and
guitarists like Gilmore and... well, who else exactly?
The blank is pretty big. Certainly, there is a long list of musicians who move a
lot of air in their lines, who weave in and out of rhythm masterfully, with
impeccable command of time. Gilmore comfortably fits in this category. But
let’s take this observation to the next level—to the guitar as drum. This doesn't
refer exclusively to chordal or “rhythm” playing, but playing the linear line, the
single notes, as a rhythm—at times locking with the dominant rhythm and at
others interlacing, or speeding ahead and then throttling back, connecting
perfectly to the “lock” of the bass and drum.
Put another way, Gilmore’s 8th, 16th, 32nd and 64th note lines are not merely
that: they have their own groove, their own “pocket.” Gilmore's burning
rhythmic intent is something very few other players display, or even have at
their disposal. And if they do have it, they cannot use it as consistently and as
stunningly as he can.
Gilmore's rhythmic acuity is based on family tradition—passed down from a
father who is a graduate of the New England Conservatory in percussion, and
a brother, Marque, who has played with Graham Haynes and Sting, and who
is one of the world’s elite drummers. David Gilmore himself began as a
drummer, and in a sense, he’s still at it.
Here’s another thing. Gilmore has a deep and abiding respect for the jazz
guitar tradition, especially the fat-bodied bop kind...
Gilmore also falls in the
tradition of guitarists who are
unabashed in their spirituality.
But his is refreshingly dogmafree.
Take this quote, regarding
the title of this recording, from
the stellar liner notes by Bill
Milkowski: “Unified Presence to
me refers to the spirit, the
universal mind, the universal
presence of consciousness
within all of humanity. And it suggests that we are ascending to a level of
oneness, if you will. It also refers to the unified presence of the musicians on
the record, and that musical in general is a unifying force. It’s a language that
transcends all languages.”
It's these three elements—the sophisticated and ever-present rhythmic emphasis,
the bop essence and an accepting spirituality—that combine to impart the
palpable aura of mystic intensity pervading the Unified Presence session,
pushing it into the circle of the premier releases of 2006.
For this project, Gilmore has plucked mightily from his circle of gifted friends to
form a band capable of transmitting his complex (this is some difficult music to
execute) yet hard-grooving (not so difficult to listen to) offerings. One of
bassist’s Christian McBride’s recordings, starring Gilmore, is called Vertical
Vision, and Unified Presence begins with the leader ripping his axe some new
F-holes through an odd-metered 3-D chessboard of “Vertical Path,” with his trio
line-up of McBride and drummer Jeff “Tain” Watts.
But the tone and the vibe here are not so reckless as on Ritualism, Gilmore's
previous disc. That’s due to the aforementioned bop element centering the tone
and leavening the vibe. There are complex, odd-time, unison passages melding
to 4:4 walking-bass swing, then shifting to intricate bridges, but all are ball-and-chained to McBride’s cavernous acoustic sound and Tain’s rocking ride
cymbal. As the performance moves through Gilmore’s dancing solo, into
McBride’s, rendering the massive instrument to his will, to Watts' trading of notfours
with the duo, you can imagine each member confidently smiling,
effortlessly navigating and grooving this thicket of form.
The second track, “Protean Way,” offers a welcome opportunity to take a
deep breath. With a cadence that inhales and exhales, saxophonist Ravi
Coltrane massages the melodic line and the listener with his soprano. A brave
cat to have ever considered picking up that instrument, Coltrane now has his
own patent on the Coltrane family soprano glow. Here he progressively builds
to controlled fever pitch, wending his way angularly through the harmony.
Besides his musical contributions, Coltrane can take credit for presenting
Gilmore at a level concomitant with his talent, assembling and releasing
Unified Presence on his own RKM imprint. The musical bond between the pair
peaked this summer when the two players did a string of dates and a weeklong
engagement at New York’s Birdland, as co-leaders of a quintet including Luis
Perdomo, Drew Gress and EJ Strickland.
Want easily digestible comple - AllAboutJazz