Satoko Fujii Quartet: Dog Days Of Summer

Satoko Fujii Quartet's Dog Days Of Summer has been a long time coming. It is the re-emergence of one of her most exciting bands, the Satoko Fujii Quartet. They had a great run from 2002's Vulcan (Libra Records) until 2008's Baccus (Muzak Records). Then the group went into a dormancy. In the meantime, Fujii has released over a hundred albums—including twelve in 2018 alone—in every imaginable format, from solo piano to big bands and almost everything in between.

For those familiar with the music of the Satoko Fujii Quartet and who have hoped for the reconvening of the group, Dog Days Of Summer will represent the familiar: sonic aggression, bombastic blasts of collective mayhem, powerhouse rhythms and Fujii at her pounding, jazz-rock percussive peak. But there is something new: a stronger focus and a more cohesive group dynamic while featuring some of the most inspired solo sections from every member of the band.

Hayakawa Takeharu (formerly known as Takeharu Hayakawa) may be the most assertive bassist in the world. His solos and his rousing contributions within the group dynamic shiver the rib cage, the liver and kidneys; while drummer Tatsuya Yoshida's percussive muscularity shakes the nerves and rattles the brain, carrying the capacity to vibrate the framed photo of Tony Williams off the bandstand (if anyone were disposed to put one there).

Trumpeter Natsuki Tamura provides piercing cries, plaintive wails and soft, subtle, poignant, understated backing for Fujii when the pianist is in an immersion-in-the-beauty mode as she is on the closer/title tune. She goes there on every tune on the set. It is the juxtaposition of calamity and stunningly refined execution—the understated aspect of Dog Days Of Summer—that makes it so compelling. This may be the key to the step forward for the Satoko Fujii Quartet in 2024. Even in the most garrulous, seemingly argumentized moments of group squabbling, deep listening reveals someone doing something subtle, interesting and unexpected. And beautiful.

This quartet has a way of slapping one upside the head. And—full disclosure—it is easier to write about jackhammers and torrential storms than it is to describe the elusive aspect of sonic gorgeousness of the most adventurous kind, combined with intuitive give-and-take interplay. This may be why past reviews of the Satko Fujii Quartet's work dwell more on the heavy metal bombast than the subtleties of this music; on an initial listen, it may seem headbangingly simple, like a garage band stomping out their rudimentary tunes. On the third and fourth spins, with the ears tuned in and the mind in the right place, an engaging complexity and virtuosity shine through.

Welcome back, Satoko Fujii Quartet. Now if the pianist can be convinced to revisit her trio with bassist Mark Dresser and drummer Jim Black, who recorded in roughly the same time frame as the early Satoko Fujii Quartet, another circle would be unbroken.