Between them, these two quartets feature six young players, four from the UK, one from America, one from Canada. As the oldest of the six is not yet 35 years old—and several are much younger—they provide heartening evidence that there are plenty of good young improvisers around and that not all young players aspire to be boppers.
The Convergence Quartet teams pianist Alexander Hawkins and bassist Dominic Lash (both also in Barkingside) with cornetist/flugelhornist Taylor Ho Bynum from Baltimore and drummer Harris Eisenstadt from Toronto. The quartet's music is an unpredictable amalgam of jazz from various eras plus free improvisation; it employs the syntax of jazz but constantly subverts our expectations with interjections of improv.
Opening with a flourish from Eisenstadt, who then lays down a rhythmic base with Lash, “Miscellaneous” seems to be following a well-trodden path, until Bynum joins the fray and things become far more interesting. After some sustained growling notes (straight out of early Ellington, no less) Bynum repeatedly plays a simple four-note theme before launching into a totally free improvised duet with Lash. At the end of this, the simple theme is restated, before Hawkins fires off a rapid-fire fractured solo, supported by thunderous drumming that enhances the drama created by the piano.
The clear message of this opening track is sustained throughout the album: “Expect the unexpected. Don't assume. Don't relax!”
Repeatedly, Bynum is the wild card here, the joker in the pack, the subversive—his contributions keeping everyone on their toes. There is fine playing from all concerned, but Bynum really makes you take notice. His stunning solo on “Convergence” is beautifully constructed, with a clear dramatic curve leading to a great climax; along the way, he even manages a call-and-response dialogue with himself. Remarkable.
Barkingside is a less than salubrious outer London suburb (which, the members of the quartet point out, none of them has ever visited!). It seems to have been chosen less for its location than for its name, in particular its canine connotations, as the three track titles are all names of obscure breeds of dog. Odd.
Despite sharing two of its members, Barkingside sounds very different to The Convergence Quartet, having no hint of its jazz syntax. Rather than focusing on individual contributions, Barkingside, predominantly, all improvise simultaneously, creating a free flowing, ever shifting soundscape. Alex Ward's clarinet is the sound that dominates the group, constantly probing, goading, reacting, making things happen.
At times, Ward almost takes the role of soloist, leading the foursome to some thrilling peaks, but he is never less than fully aware of the others and is ever ready to make an unexpected swerve in reaction to them.
In a similar vein, Hawkins' piano clearly displays free jazz influences, piling up torrents of notes in a display of technique that is breathtaking. However, he never becomes the sole focus of the group and is just as impressive when adding spare, economic punctuations to four-way exchanges.
Altogether, the level of group empathy displayed here is scary given that the musicians had played comparatively few gigs together before these recordings were made. Barkingside have a very bright future.

John Eyles, All About Jazz


Is Barkingside an ensemble name or simply an album title? The distinction ends up of little consequence as fine print reveals that none of the four improvisers who comprise the group “have ever been to the outer London suburb”. At just under an hour, the disc collects three performances, two from a Cambridge gig and the third from a London set at the 2007 Freedom of the City Festival. The instrumentation is that of a conventional jazz quartet, reed plus rhythm section, but the ensemble directs its focus toward transposing that familiar template to the format of free improvisation.
Alex Ward’s clarinet is a bit unusual for the context and he brings to the straight horn a bevy of extended techniques, some of which parallel the vernacular of Canadian Francois Houle. Reed pops, mouth-puckered expulsions, coarse-grain multiphonics and relatively straightforward melodic phrasing all come into play on his palette. Drummer Paul May evinces influence from another Paul, this one answering to the surname Lytton, in his preference for kit accoutrements, abstracted clatter, and textured noise. In the closing minutes of the opening “Alopekis” his rubbed cymbals sound vaguely like a tamboura with their web of resultant drones. In the final third of “Carnauzer” there’s a segment where it sound like he’s repeatedly lobbing quarters into an ashtray balanced on snare head. Later, it’s possibly either bicycle crank or hand mixer, I’m not sure.
For pianist Alexander Hawkins the imperfect analogue seems to be Veryan Weston, as he applies gesture-laden dissonance to fragmentary chords and clusters. Bassist Dominic Lash divides time productively between pizzicato and bow, channeling strident energy through either means of sound production. Communication is a near constant and the two longer pieces unfold in episodic fashion with various combinations undertaking ideas collectively or in intentional opposition. The music is heavily percussive in places, not the least because of May’s contributions, but the four also accord close attention to dynamics, receding from stentorian tumult to near silence on numerous occasions. At roughly a third the length of its bookends, “Basenji” begins with in an almost chamber jazz vein before crumpling into more carefully-timed collisions and explosions.
Like the institutions of state government and private medicine, the improvised music community doesn’t spend much time pondering succession planning. Groups like Barkingside and labels like the indefatigable Emanem are doing the heavy lifting in that regard, ensuring that as older improvisers regrettably retire and expire the art form continues unabated.

Derek Taylor, Bagatellen


The four players who make up Barkingside (Emanem 4147), three of whom have strong links with Oxford, are all professionals in the world of free improvisation, a form that has grown from its beginnings in the 1960s into a musical landscape that now has extraordinary variety. Clarinettist Alex Ward is here very much a leading sound with his extraordinary leaps and scurls, closely followed by Alexander Hawkins' virtuosity on piano. Together with Dominic Lash, bass and Paul May, percussion, they create a shifting carpet of sound in which the level of response and understanding between all players makes the album such a rich and exciting example of music lying on the exuberant fringes of jazz and new music.

Paul Medley, The Oxford Times


This quartet’s name derives from the fact that none of the involved parties has ever been to the outer London suburb of Barkingside. If this means something in particular or it’s some sort of secret code we really don’t know. This aside, the four companions were recorded in different occasions - the first two tracks in Cambridge, 2006, the third in 2007 at the Freedom of the City festival. All three improvisations contain large doses of chiaroscuro interplay, with rare moments of clamour; basically, they sound like seamed preludes and interludes with ample spaces given to single instrumentalists to demonstrate a prowess that goes beyond the collective homogeneity. Alex Ward’s clarinet timbre is both matter-of-factly and highly refined, his control of nuances total during interchanges and soliloquies demonstrating that the meaning of “note squandering” is unknown to him. Pianist Alexander Hawkins introduces a half-formal, half-unchained method of choosing colours, resulting in several pictures of nervous positivity, still devoid of hypertensive gestures. The orthodoxy factor is taken care of too, courtesy of double bassist Dominic Lash whose work on the instrument is refreshingly snappy but, at the same time, almost sartorial in choosing links and connections. Paul May is the tickler of the group, always suggesting new frames which he promptly disintegrates, sprouting rhythmic concepts one after another with youthful enthusiasm. An ensemble that leaves a positive impression without actually doing nothing truly astounding. That speaks volumes.

Massimo Ricci, Touching Extremes