Shawn Maxwell: J Town Suite
Shawn Maxwell

Saxophonist Shawn Maxwell is hardly the only composer to have drawn inspiration from his hometown, Springsteen the perhaps quintessential example; he’s probably the first, however, to have built an entire album around Joliet. Located southwest of Chicago, Illinois’ third largest city is where Maxwell was born, where he went to high school, took his first music lessons, and attended Joliet Junior College, and where his countless experiences proved invaluable as imaginative fodder for the making of his twelfth album.

J Town Suite is no one-dimensional idyllic vision, however: like David Lynch’s Lumberton, Joliet has a dark underside, as evidenced by the presence of a now-closed penitentiary and the gang fights that Maxwell sometimes witnessed. As gritty as it is, Joliet is, for him, still home, and like the unwavering love a parent has for a trouble-making child, the affection Maxwell has for the rough and in places downtrodden locale is strong. After all, without it, he wouldn’t be who he is now. While the album wasn’t recorded at Joliet, it was laid down nearby at Electrical Audio in Chicago.

Each of the nine tracks has a fascinating backstory that’s fleshed out in Neil Tesser’s helpful liner notes. But the recording hold ups perfectly well as a pure musical statement stripped of supplemental content, especially when the material is stylistically varied and the writing packed with oblique melodies, minor-key modes, and skewed rhythms. The foundation’s jazz, yes, but hints of funk and rock surface too. Still, no matter how different one composition is from another, the set’s held together by the Joliet concept.

That Maxwell’s honed his writing over many albums is shown by the confidence of the writing. It helps too that he’s ably supported by keyboardist Collin Clauson, electric bassist Michael Barton, and drummer Greg Essig on the date. Maxwell himself is a versatile player as comfortable wielding alto and soprano saxophones as flute. The performances bear the leader’s signature in the compositions and the quartet’s in its performances. Much of this tight band’s identity stems from the coupling of Clauson’s Fender Rhodes, Barton’s throb, and Essig’s expert stickwork with the leader’s woodwinds.

To start, Maxwell takes us to Joliet Central High with the oft-funky “Steelmen March,” Steelman the name of its sports mascot and “March of the Steel Men” its pep song. Consistent with that, the piece is animated by an enticingly slinky march groove and a pied piper-ish alto sax figure you might find yourself humming long after the tune’s over. Don’t be surprised either if its freewheeling Fender Rhodes-and-drums episode conjures the image of Chick Corea and Tony Williams laying it down on In a Silent Way (not the only time that happens on the release, by the way).

Next stop is the family-owned Joe’s Hot Dogs for “Fries or Rings in the Back,” the query barked by a staff member to new customers joining the growing late-night queue. With Maxwell serving up serpentine soprano lines alongside a brooding backdrop, the lugubrious setting turns out to be considerably more exotic than such background info might suggest. Referencing the city’s newspaper (and Maxwell’s stint as a paper delivery boy), the frenetic “Herald’s News” counters the haunted quality of “Fries or Rings in the Back” with a spirited if brief romp. The maximum-security penitentiary in nearby Crest Hill is the subject of “In the Shadow of Statesville,” with Maxwell’s flute lending the ponderous meditation a deeply reflective tone.

Titled after a local trumpet player who was instrumental in getting Maxwell started on saxophone and familiar with the Chicago-area jazz station WDCB, “Jerry” works its fluid way through buoyant jazz, funk-rock, and downtempo episodes. The album’s funkiest tune is undoubtedly “Hickory Street,” named for where his family lived until he entered fourth grade and sporting an instantly appealing groove and sunny soprano melody. Like many a Rust Belt city, Joliet’s seen its share of collapse, with “Bridge Closed” alluding to a general state of demise and “Ghost Mall on Jefferson” likewise referencing the downturn many an American city’s encountered. In the former, Maxwell’s soprano sax lunges acrobatically across Rhodes-sprinkled terrain; the latter, while slower by comparison, is enlivened by spirited alto declamations.

In fashioning a recording so eclectic and rich in mood, Maxwell’s created an album that accentuates the multi-faceted character of his hometown. As a result, he’s produced a set that makes Joliet, despite the myriad challenges it’s faced, economic and otherwise, seem like not the worst place in the world to be. Think of it as an affectionate yet still honest portrait, as well as one with lots musically to offer.
April 2024

Read Here. Textura

A record like this was inevitable. COVID-19 shut down our lives, outlets, schools, businesses, real conversations, music, art…things we took for granted in a free world.

Chicago-based saxophone composer Shawn Maxwell did what many creative artists did to cope.
He created, reflecting an inner and outer world in turmoil, reaching for happiness and hope regardless, holding onto the moments that distracted, focused, and despaired from the consequences of this one life on this one lonely planet — buffeted relentlessly with the byproduct of technology, ego, and creature comforts.
Maxwell and his gifted contemporaries touch on death’s vast, unpredictable scepter, social and economic injustice (George Floyd and BLM), climate change, political warfare, and immense pain in 17 disjointed, beautiful, and wondrous original tracks under the instrumental jazz umbrella of Expectation & Experience.

The upcoming May 21, 2021 album, Maxwell’s 10th, brushes virtuoso, versatility, and stylistic diversity with a depth of feeling — restlessness buttressing bursts of defiant, eloquent strains of full-blown, vibrant music almost literally dying to get out.

“This album consists of 17 original tracks that I composed in reaction to all that happened in 2020,” he explains. The tracks are short and impressionistic, one to four minutes in length, dribs and drabs, translating the energies and emotions of the instantaneous into a staccato rhythm that yearns to become more — and in certain places — does, with broiling momentum, clarity, and defiance.

The album features Maxwell on alto/soprano sax and clarinet, with 29 of his fellow musicians, all in charge of lifting spirits, reflecting the times, and getting as close to the listener as possible — forbidden, and thus, precious, now — the musical equivalent of touch.
The musicians included trumpeter Chad McCullough, vocalists Keri Johnsrud and John Stafford II, pianist Brenda Earle Stokes, drummer Ernie Adams, and bassist Stacy McMichael. Everyone recorded remotely from their homes.

They conjure the disjointed, the beautiful, and the wondrous through atmospheric tension, spherical movements, odd time signatures, and tone manipulation to answer the question: What would living in a global pandemic sound like?
Sometimes, glorious. Sometimes, scary. Inescapably infuriating. Suddenly sublime.

Sometimes, all of the above.

The ping-ponging schism between extremes is always at play here, whether tip-toeing through minefields, riffing off an insistent, anticipatory beat, or launching spectacles off miniscule crumbs.

“Expectation’s” intro sees Maxwell at his best, performing a sinewy, sensual solo — one found in every jazz ballad, wanting to sink into Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me,” yet never getting there.

“J.C. Jones” follows in lockstep — a natural evolution from standard to snazzy. The tune dedicated to “a great man and a good friend, James Calvin Jones, who passed away just before the pandemic took hold,” begins to veer slightly off-track, obsessed with a strengthening horn inquiry, and buoyed by violinist Marielle de Rocca Serra’s razor-thin classical/free jazz margins. Laughter and flow, Jones’.

Tim Seisser’s funk bassline swallows and subdues — in big, velvety gulps — the jumpy undercurrent of keyboardist Collin Clauson’s twinkly Mercury retrograde. Maxwell’s sax carves out a melody reminiscent of the pleasant, barbed-wire Muzak piped in elevators and supermarkets in the “Mad Men” era of plenty.

Such is “Empty Shelf,” a 3:46 lesson in false satisfaction, having the rug pulled out from under you from every direction, something we experienced in droves.

Maxwell also takes on the rhythmic narrative of an innocent “trip to the store…,” high-stepping along “in protective gear, dodging other human beings,” as Clauson’s ridiculously upbeat retrospective returns in a hyper state, an ominous turnaround, softly driving home the punchline — humming busily, “…only to stare at an empty shelf.”

The thoughtfully rendered ¾ ballad with 4/4 sections, “Quiet House” — for another friend, Evon House Thompson — is as lush and complete a musical tune as “The Great Divide” — about the ever-failing two-party system of political buffoons — is not.

“Quiet House” offers respite from the storm, a back-and-forth dance between wavy seas and a bed of daffodils to fall back on, and interstitial differences, a heart skipping a beat, love at first sight, a sea change that keeps us knock-knocking on heaven’s door. Guitarist Zvonimir Tot and Maxwell respond well together, setting the beatific scene for a nice compliment and tribute.

“The Great Divide,” however, is not as complimentary/complementary, and that’s intentional. Maxwell has tenor saxophonist Alex Beltran on the case, as the timing seems constantly off from one sax to another, neither really listening to the other, both in filibuster mode, leaving discord, noise. Politics as usual, while people die.

“Alternative Facts,” jittering along in 5/8 and 6/8, predictably follows the same discordant, jumbled time juxtaposition with weird-sounding instruments, harmonica (Howard Levy) straining and screeching for nothing. Credit bassist Steven Hashimoto and drummer Greg Essig for holding that unsettling, but dominating line.

Maxwell and his band go from harmony to discord, depending on the subject matter, but never lose the technical control.
Even in “The Great Divide,” “Alternative Facts,” and “Feeling Remote,” about the “anxiety and disconnectedness felt by teachers and students” in virtual learning…the off-beat staccato feel of the pieces are always enhanced with musicianship; nothing’s ever played wrong.

It’s the equivalent of a great opera singer trying to sing badly for effect. Jean Stapleton’s Edith Bunker in the “All In The Family” TV intro comes to mind.

“Breathe” takes a look at George Floyd’s death by going slow, poetic, poignant, pairing piano (Brenda Earle Stokes) with soft sax…choosing to focus on the sorrow of a tragic, senseless loss, on the gentleness of Floyd (by all accounts), rather than the brute force of another cop’s thin blue line.

“Every Day Is Monday” presents the mind-numbing effects of “Ground Hog Day” type repetition, when “customary markers of time are absent. The concept of days and weeks becomes obscured,” and only an ominous sense of foreboding (on Maxwell’s time-marking sax) is left. Mark Nelson (keys, programming) does a bang-up job of interweaving and layering compelling fills into a patchwork-quilt soundtrack. 1:42 plays like an entire inner-dystopian soundtrack.

“No Peace Without Justice” demands human voices. Keri Johnsrud and John Stafford II provide those voices, in bass time and light melody. Guitarist Craig Elliot serves as a musical drone, gazing admiringly upon crowds of protesters of all colors banding together all across the globe for BLM, and change.

“The Show Can’t Go On” cuts off music mid-stream, one by one, a frustrating, destructive Domino turn of musical events, and reality for countless working musicians counting on the next gig, often planned months, years in advance. Interruption in real time.

Maxwell next plays a 1:20 solo on the “Empty Stage,” infused with emotion, mostly loneliness, regret, helplessness, and yet, renewed appreciation for what was. You can picture countless musicians alone, doing the same, playing to an empty room or computer screen with pixelated faces — the ultimate echo chamber.

The second-to-the-last track brings in more musicians, as they feel their way around “The New Abnormal”…bass and drums to sax, growing more animated, pouring more of themselves into the spontaneous combustion, letting go of distractions, freeing themselves in this soulful jam session — as if it’s their last.

Tuning out to tune in. Bliss personified.

Maxwell blends his soulful twisting, turning signature into a climbing, grooving melody in “The New Abnormal,” as keyboardist Matt Nelson, drummer Greg Artry, and bassist Jeremiah Hunt build a home around a corrugated mess, find their own footing again.
Bittersweet, balladic “Experience” bookends the album on borrowed time, sax and bowed bass (McMichael), slowing the tempo down towards its inevitable conclusion, looping on a moving, spinning scale, one that never truly wants to resolve. Long after the bass splits off, Shawn Maxwell holds on, willing the notes, the groove, the music to keep going.

Expectation & Experience is available now.

Artist quotes from promos and liner notes.

Review, May 8, 2021

Carol Banks Weber

https://carolbankswebercoggie.substack.com/p/2020-in-measured-hindsight?r=17cguf

Do television broadcasts still contain those little news story teases followed by the promise, “Story at eleven”? I don’t watch television much anymore, so I wonder. But that phrase certainly still conjures up those images, and that serious tone, for those stories were all about rather serious, scary subjects, and, if I recall correctly, often contained warnings. So that was going through my head as I put on Story At Eleven, the new album from saxophonist and composer Shawn Maxwell. This album is different from his previous releases, in that it contains four long tracks, all connected thematically. All four are original compositions. Joining Shawn Maxwell on this release are Collin Clauson on organ, Michael Barton on electric bass, and Greg Essig on drums. The album was produced by Shawn Maxwell and Nick Eipers.
The album opens with “Appointment With…,” which kind of eases in, the first moments like a curtain being opened to reveal a new day, with the hope and magic of that moment. And then as we take a look, there is something uneasy about what we view, as if the daylight were a trick, and we are in some sort of twilight. Expectations are set aside, and we find ourselves at the beginning of a journey. There seems to be just one path to travel upon, sort of like in a dream where we feel there are no choices, and whether we know or not where we are heading, we must go. That repeated them indicates as much. Interestingly, just as the music is getting more intense and busier, starting to rush toward some sort of possible confrontation, there is a pause, a breath, a silence, almost like closing one’s eyes to avoid facing whatever it is. And it works, for when the music begins again, we are in a calmer state. Things then begin to build again, but there is not that same sort of apprehension, that same worry. And I love the work on drums here. As things then mellow a bit once again, the saxophone works as a soothing agent for a time, before leading us into more interesting territory. And then there is another pause, another breath, and the track returns us to that initial theme. It is as if we cannot escape that path. We are going to keep that appointment referred to in the tune’s title, one way or another.

“Internal Rift” begins with drums, but somewhat softly, as if at a distance. It’s not a beat that invites us to dance or sway, but a beat that seems to announce something, to call attention to a presence. The bass soon adds its voice, and we get the sense of something somber. When the organ is added, that somber sense continues. It has a strange, almost spiritual element too, the organ reminding me vaguely of church. It isn’t until Shawn Maxwell comes in on saxophone that the music begins to feel closer to us, and more inviting, though all the other elements remain in place. And then things change, and open up into a wider, brighter place. Or perhaps we are just now within the sound rather than looking on, and have adjusted our perspective, and we get some nice work on organ. Approximately halfway through the track, there is some hesitation. Perhaps we are unsure just how to proceed, and so we take short, tentative steps. And then, though we may still be unsure, we move more quickly forward, and things get gloriously wild. The track features some excellent work on saxophone and some intriguing use of percussion.

“Near Surrender” begins in a somewhat relaxed space. There is something tentative, yet pretty in the playing. Cautiously optimistic, perhaps. And interestingly, there is a lead on bass before long, that instrument seeming to suggest that things are going to be all right, for, though it emerges from the main theme, it feels able to step apart from it, if briefly. And then things take a sudden, unexpected turn, the saxophone leading the way, offering exclamations or interjections, before returning to that mellower place. Though now the saxophone is quicker to raise its voice, as if finding a way to create a new path and eager to lead us along it. There is an excitement in the playing. And soon there is a drum solo, one that is allowed to take its time to develop, which is great, for the power that emerges is felt much more strongly. The track returns to its main them at the end.

The album concludes with “Answer & Arrival.” Here the saxophone seems ready from the start to reach a more cheerful place, and feels more certain that it is possible. Sure, we’ll need some reassurance along the way, and the saxophone delivers it, along with the organ, in an early section. And then the saxophone freely expresses an excitement, even a joy, as the journey now seems something that we have a say in. We can alter the path, and therefore perhaps the outcome. At least, that feels to be the promise here. And yet, there is no rush forward. No need, now that we feel better about the journey itself. Things are lighter. And then when the goal is in sight, there is that final joyous push forward.

CD Track List

Appointment With…
Internal Rift
Near Surrender
Answer & Arrival
Story At Eleven was released on March 24, 2023.

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Chilled-out jazz noir licks roll through Shawn Maxwell’s spaced-out psychedelic chords of “J Town Suite.” With nods towards the jazz-rock fusion of Miles Davis’s “Bitches Brew.” The band’s interplay ties the experience together, as various instruments bounce off each other, resulting in a rich dialogue. A textural approach to the rhythm and melody results in an origami-like approach, with the sounds folding into each other. Layered to perfection, for all the different elements that define the experience, there is something outright liberating about how spaced-out and airy the experience is.

Heavy-set keyboards and a martial-like beat give “Steelmen March” a disorienting, multi-faceted quality. The highlight, “Fries or Rings in the Back,” has a cryptic quality. Horns and skeletal chords give the track a nebulous demeanor, always remaining just outside of focus, abandoning straightforward rhythm for something much more abstract. A substantial rhythm section lends “Herald’s New” a funky disposition. Whispered throughout the track is the eerie mood of “In the Shadow of Statesville.” Melodic sensibilities rise out of the stately “Jerry,” giving it a muscular demeanor as the buildup of the piece is a true joy. “Tap, Keg & Tavern” is hyperactive, with the drums particularly loose. A slower pace adorns the sheer communal spirit of “Hickory Street.” Unexpected angles take hold as “Bridge Closed” gradually becomes undone. Ending things on a minimal note is the finale of “Ghost Mall on Jefferson.”

Shawn Maxwell is an exceptional storyteller who creates a lyrical journey without saying a single word in the captivating “J Town Suite.”

https://www.shawnmaxwell.com
https://www.shawnmaxwell.com/discography/j-town-suite/

Read Here. Skope

On our recent trip to Chicago, I had the opportunities to interview saxophonists/ composers Sam Pilnick (posted here) and Shawn Maxwell (pictured left). Up until the days before we had lunch and chatted over a leisurely two hours, I did not know much about Mr. Maxwell or his music. I have a friend who has played his music on the radio but I had not listened to an entire album. Before we left home, “Expectation & Experience” (CoraStreet Records/ Jazzline) arrived in my in-box. Our conversation began with a discussion of creating an album during lockdown, especially an album that spoke to the health of a nation and of the artists whose music chronicles everyday life.

17 songs, none longer than 4:18 with five below two minutes and four under three, each with a different lineup –– “Breathe” pairs Maxwell (alto sax) with pianist Brenda Earle Stokes and was inspired by the footage of George Floyd’s murder while the following track, “A Change of Climate”, finds the leader on soprano sax with Paul Abella on cajon and tambourine. The lockdown gave the saxophonist ample time to reflect on the world and help amplify the belief that a musician’s role in society is not just to entertain but to inform, to help illuminate the road to change. “No Peace Without Justice” blends the wordless vocals of Keri Johnsrud and John Stafford with soprano sax and the acoustic guitar of Craig Elliot; the tune and the spirit of the music was inspired by the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020.

There are several songs relating to the loss of work for musicians. “The Show Can’t Go On” features Maxwell conversing on alto sax (left and right channels) propelled forward by the drums of Ernie Adams while the following track “Empty Stage” is a short but powerful alto sax solo sans accompaniment.

The composer also wrote a pair of tributes to friends: “J.C. Jones” celebrates the life of a person who meant a lot to Maxwell over the years while “Quiet House” is a ballad honoring the memory of Evon House Thompson, a gospel-singing friend of the saxophonist. The latter tune has a “virtual strings” arrangement by guitarist Zvonmir Tot.

Every musician on “Expectation & Experience” (the album takes its name from the first and last tracks) was recorded alone at home or in a studio. Yet, the music does not sound disjointed –– instead, this group of musical haikus allows Shawn Maxwell to air his political and personal views while entertaining the listeners. Many of the albums released in the past few months were recorded either before or during the pandemic: pay attention to the ones in the latter category (like this one) and you’ll hear musicians working and playing through the issues of the day.

For more information, go to www.shawnmaxwell.com. To hear more and to purchase the album, go to https://shawnmaxwell.bandcamp.com/.

While you are on Mr. Maxwell’s Bandcamp page, you’ll see “Millstream”, an album with his band recorded before the pandemic and scheduled to be his debut release for Jazzline. Maxwell plays alto and soprano saxophones with Collin Clauson (Rhodes, acoustic piano, Wurlitzer), Jeremiah Hunt (bass), and Phil Beale (drums) plus, on two cuts, Chad McCullough (trumpet, flugelhorn). While the pandemic album was often an acoustic project, Clauson’s keys and the dancing drums gives this music more of a “fusion” feel. Several tunes are quite funky such as the hard-hitting “Squared Circle” and “Sold Separately”. McCullough’s trumpet blends nicely with Maxwell’s soprano sax on the smartly played “Front Walk Over”” note how the two musicians come together and then go int a call-and-response before soloing simultaneously.

Go to Shawn Maxwell’s Bandcamp page, give a listen, and make up your own mind. What stands out for this listener is the witty melodies and fine musicianship.

I’d also like to thank Shawn Maxwell for taking the time to sit and talk to me –– we had never met but he was generous with his time and information and I look forward to catching up with his again the next time we’re visiting.

Richard B Kamins

https://steptempest.blogspot.com/2021/07/meeting-shawn-maxwell.html

Shawn Maxwell’s New Tomorrow is a quintet made up of five of Chicago’s finest musicians. Performing all original material, they specialize in a style of jazz that is heavily influenced and blended with several other modern genres. Focusing on composition just as much as improvisation, they reveal stunning melodies hidden within complex time signatures. This new approach in Maxwell’s writing brings a perfect blend of composition and improvisation for a new direction in jazz.

Artists

Shawn Maxwell – Alto Saxophone, Flute
Victor Garcia – Trumpet, Flugelhorn
Matt Nelson – Piano, Rhodes, Wurlitzer
Junius Paul – Acoustic & Electric Bass
Phil Beale – Drums

By Dan Healy

Maxwell’s latest disc with his New Tomorrow Quintet is an exciting extension of his edgy group approach that we have heard on previous albums. On Maxwell’s last album, Alliance, he used a larger ensemble complete with an unusual collection of instruments, including guitar, voice and French horn. On that work Maxwell used the larger ensemble to explore envelope-pushing odd meters in the context of interesting compositional textures and hues. The edgy odd meters are still very much present on New Tomorrow, except more within the context of funky, groove-based compositions. Although the funky odd meters hint at inspirational precedents, such as Steve Coleman and the Dave Holland Quintet, the album is very much a labor of love in Maxwell’s own voice.

Interestingly, in this particular recording Maxwell has chosen to utilize a trumpet to round out the group, specifically when the album rotates between three exemplary Chicago jazz trumpeters: Victor Garcia, Chad McCullough and Corey Wilkes. Maxwell showcases his ample saxophone work with his piercing, muscular alto tone and fresh, angular lines. He demonstrates this aptly on “Embraceable Excuses,” constantly generating unexpected twists and turns. Victor Garcia also turns in an emotive trumpet solo on this track with plenty of memorable trading between himself and Maxwell. McCullough and the leader engage in particularly superb dialogue on “Responsibility Run” and also excel on the deep funk groove of “Saturday Morning Dance.” Corey Wilkes shines with a muted trumpet on the track “Throw Away Tune #2.” Maxwell shows off his ample flute chops trading with McCullough on “Hitting Streak.”

All of Maxwell’s originals stand out. “Three Kinds of Heat” is one of the most memorable original compositions on the record, blending serpentine horn lines with a tight rhythm section groove. The playful “Whole Hearted Half The Time” provides an outstanding vehicle for the band too. This album is a highly recommended release in the funk vein from Maxwell.

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By Howard Reich

Was it jazz? Classical? Pop? Funk?

Ultimately, no single term encapsulates the music that Chicagoan Shawn Maxwell’s Alliance played Thursday night at the Jazz Showcase, which was just part of its allure. Better still, Maxwell presided over an ensemble of unconventional instrumentation, to put it mildly.

When was the last time you heard a front line featuring two saxophones and wordless vocals plus two French horns, two stand-up basses, guitar, drums and percussion?

Maxwell’s scores proved as unusual as his taste for instrumental color, the pieces shifting from jazz-swing rhythm one moment to classical downbeats the next, from bebop phraseology to long and incantatory phrases to perky, funk-tinged melody making. Not every Maxwell composition proved thoroughly effective, but the sheer stylistic breadth of this music – sometimes within a single work – made this a most unusual evening at the Showcase. And a welcome one.

Maxwell and friends started out light and bright with “Fun Five Funk,” which opens his newly released recording of this music, “Shawn Maxwell’s Alliance” (on the Chicago Sessions label). Even in this quirky little tune, however, Maxwell showed his predilection for exquisitely odd musical juxtapositions. As he set off a characteristically intense solo on alto saxophone, his composed passages for French horn and voice in unison brought an ethereal undercurrent to the proceedings.

Few in the audience likely would go home humming the long, winding, snaky theme of Maxwell’s “Iynes Crayons,” but there was no resisting its melodic pull – particularly as dispatched by Chris Greene’s soprano saxophone, Maxwell’s flute and Keri Johnsrud’s serene, wordless vocals. Maxwell’s sharp-edged, somewhat rough-hewn flute solo was not the most sensuous sound ever to issue from the instrument, but the sheer unpredictability of the ensemble writing kept at least one listener intrigued. Passages driven by Paul Townsend’s relentless backbeats were abruptly interrupted by quasi-classical sections for two exquisitely blended French horns. Nobody writes like this.

Maxwell showed his strengths in balladry with his “Ava,” which isn’t on the new album but was worth savoring. Greene’s soprano saxophone, Maxwell’s alto and Johnsrud’s subtle vocal lines captured the flow of this music, with Stephen Lynerd’s vibraphone adding to the mystique of it all.

The highlight of the set arrived with “From Parts Unknown,” an immensely attractive piece that showed Maxwell’s writing at its most clever. In effect, several melody lines cascaded atop one another, with ingeniously syncopated effects from Greene’s soprano saxophone, Maxwell’s alto, Mitch Corso’s guitar and Johnsrud’s vocals.

With all this sonic activity underway, musicians and technicians struggled a bit to find the right voicing and acoustical balance in each composition, since no two were quite alike. Overall, listeners need to hear Johnsrud’s vocals more prominently, for she sometimes was overwhelmed by all that sound.

Still, one had to admire the unusual nature of this enterprise and Maxwell’s boldness in pursuing it. He hears music differently than most and isn’t afraid to celebrate that fact on a grand scale.

hreich@tribune.com

Twitter @howardreich

Shawn Maxwell’s Alliance

When: 8 and 10 p.m. Friday and Saturday; 4, 8 and 10 p.m. Sunday

Where: Jazz Showcase, 806 S. Plymouth Court

Admission: $20-$35; 312-360-0234 or jazzshowcase.com

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“Nobody writes like this.” – Howard Reich, Chicago Tribune

As a composer, recording artist and performer, saxophonist Shawn Maxwell has endeavored to express his own unique voice. From his latest album Millstream (Jazzline, 2020) to his debut Originals (self-released, 2005), he has released nine albums of original compositions. The traditions of jazz form the foundation for Shawn’s music; he builds on that with material from the music he grew up with – rock, funk, hip hop, R&B, classical.  The result, as Hrayr Attarian wrote in Chicago Jazz Magazine, “is refreshingly distinct yet recognizably Maxwellian”. He’s not intent on following any rules – or on breaking them – but on continually expanding what his music encompasses.

“…a composer who’s confident in his artistic vision, and comfortable with the wide array of colors on his instrumental palette.” – Bobby Reed, Downbeat Magazine

For the past four years, Shawn has been touring the U.S. with his quintet Shawn Maxwell’s New Tomorrow. Their first album, Shawn Maxwell’s New Tomorrow (OA2/Origin, 2016), was named one of Downbeat Magazine’s “Best Albums of 2017”. The follow-up, Music in My Mind (OA2/Origin, 2018), was highly praised by critics and enthusiastically received by radio stations.  It was chosen as a Downbeat Magazine Editor’s Pick in June 2018.

“…jaunty, angular melodies, deceptive time signatures, and metronomic rhythm arrangements – sound as if inhabited by the ghost of Zappa…” – Neil Tesser

Shawn Maxwell’s Alliance (Chicago Sessions, 2014) was the eponymous album from another of his projects. A ten-piece ensemble including voice, two French horns, two upright basses and vibraphone, they were praised by jazz critics (another Downbeat Editor’s Pick) and named on several “best of the year” lists. So unusual was the music that publications as diverse as Folk and Acoustic Music Exchange picked it up; “Not exactly the sort of band you’re likely to hear in anyone’s notion of the mainstream and thus highly attractive to progressive ears”.

Alliance followed up with an E.P. later that year, Bridge (Chicago Sessions, 2014), which expanded on the sound of the group. “…a brief album full of rich musical ideas, colorful passages, and unique musical constructs.” said Dan Bilawky (AllAboutJazz.com).

“These days, Shawn Maxwell sounds like Shawn Maxwell, and that’s a great thing…” – Paul Abella, Chicago Jazz Magazine

Shawn’s groups also include a quartet, featured on his earliest recordings, Urban Vigilante, Maxwell’s House (Chicago Sessions 2011, 2009), Originals II and Originals (self-released, 2008, 2005).

“an exciting figure on the Chicago jazz landscape” – Michael Barris, Downbeat Magazine

As a Vandoren and Conn-Selmer artist, Shawn is a favorite of students from college age through elementary school, combining his pedagogical skills with a performer’s sensibility in Master Classes and guest appearances.

“This is bold music. Maxwell isn’t afraid to try out new ideas and take chances.” – Frank Alkyer, Downbeat Magazine

Millstream (Jazzline/Delta, 2020) and Expectation & Experience (Jazzline/Delta, 2021) are the ninth & tenth albums released by Shawn featuring all original compositions.

Shawn’s eleventh album, “Story At Eleven,” will be released Friday, March 24th, 2022.

Shawn’s style began to form in the school music programs of Joliet, Illinois. A celebrated performer in the Joliet Central High School band program, he went on to earn a B.A. in Music from Millikin University.

By Dan McClenaghan

Chicago-based saxophonist Shawn Maxwell has produced an excellent run of straight ahead CD releases in the past decade, sets like his two self-produced discs, Originals (2006) and Originals II (2008), and Maxwell’s House (Chicago Session LTD, 2010) before he changed his game up with Shawn Maxwell’s Alliance (Chicago Sessions LTD, 2015), a shift away from mainstream quartet – sax and rhythm section – to a walk-on-the-mini-big-band wild side, with a group that includes French horns, vibes, a vocalist and additional saxophones. So what about the trumpets?

Maxwell seems to have avoided – on record – the standard quintet configuration – sax and trumpet, backed by a piano/bass/drums rhythm section. But he rips into the genre here, and does so in a dynamic, modernist style that gives the music a far-from-standard treatment

As to the trumpeters, Maxwell uses three of them, rotating them in and out like basketball subs in an all star game: Victor Garcia, Chad McCullough and Corey Wilkes.

As usual, Maxwell has penned all the tunes, beginning with deep groove “Embraceable Excuses,” featuring Victor Garcia on trumpet. Junius Paul’s steroidal electric bass, combined with Phil Beale’s pounding drums, lay a muscular foundation, and Matt Nelson’s Filles de Kilimanjaro (Miles Davis, Columbia Records, 1968)-like electric keyboards pump up the alto sax/trumpet give-and-take from Maxwell and Garcia. “Work In Progress” draws the sound away from the dance-able, celebratory mood of the opener into a dark, exploratory territory. Maxwell’s solo is ominous. The rhythm guys shine on this one – with a dark shine, like it’s coming off of a chunk of obsidian.

“Throw Away Tune” features Corey Wilkes on trumpet, with a gorgeous muted sound on a smooth flowing ballad. “Saturday Morning Dance” sounds like a tune written for a big band, opening with a trumpet/sax fanfare before McCullough takes flight on a soaring solo. “Hitting Streak” showcases Maxwell’s sound on flute alongside McCullough’s fiery trumpet, adding a different flavor to the uplifting, catchy groove’s of this first-rate band.

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