Byron Asher's Skrontch Music: Lord, when you send the rain

The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 was the most destructive one in American history. Seven states were affected and the political fallout saw Herbert Hoover reach the White House by 1929. The saxophonist Byron Asher believes another political action was the development of New Orleans jazz, early in the twentieth century, in direct resistance to the racism of Jim Crow Louisiana. On his rootsy reflective debut, Byron Asher's Skrontch Music (Sinking City Records, 2019), he sought to represent these twin histories of the city's jazz scene and anti-Jim Crow activism. Now this follow up project, Lord, When You Send The Rain, bags its title from a James Baldwin poem and its artwork from a photo of the 1927 disaster.

Asher has described Louis Armstrong's early works with his Hot Five and Hot Seven groups as "beautiful, accessible, the roots of everything we do." Asher himself dives deep into the crazy quilt of Delta music traditions, whilst using a multiracial and inter-generational team. All done with impressive mastery, his writing often echoes the layered composing of Cassie Kinoshi and the soulful bounce of Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Other possible comparisons become clear as the record progresses.

Fannie Lou Hamer's voice greets us from 1968 on opener "The Problem With Mississippi." She tells us Mississippi is not actually Mississippi's problem, Mississippi is America's problem. Her words arrive in echoed and spliced form over organ-like electronica from Peter Bowling. Then comes a sobering intro of brass, bowed bass and Oscar Rossignoli's poetic piano, like a grief ritual. Gradually this swells into a humid festival of righteous reeds, driven by Asher's sax, never too raucous but quietly joyous. Another slow burner, "New Louisiana Hoodoo Blues" maintains the mysterious sadness of its opening chords, the piano rolling gorgeously under each solo.

"The Break" has fragments of speech from a Katrina survivor amid bashing drums, horns blaring and all these elements trampling upon each other. Asher is surely striving here for the harrowing chaos of rising floodwaters and people caught up in survival mode. The ensemble plays it steamy and moody on "Re: Backwater Blues" where an emphatic chorus relieves the tension made real by slashing percussion. "Duet" sees Asher's sax jibber and jab against itself for two minutes, before the catchy "Threads" brings a hot parade of Latin melodies and Havana rhythms, an arousing mambo to kickstart any carnival.

The closing two cuts share one origin, as "Ma Rainey's Barrelhouse Blues" grafts Asher's own take onto the Georgian diva's 1923 recording. The original's tinny bawdiness is given a decadent yet dreamy lustre, as if Rainey's ghost is present demanding a wake then a shindig. "Papa likes his outside women, Mama likes her outside men" is a line from the above track and this piece, a life-giving song, imbibes some of Rainey's unsinkable spirit. Doug Garrison's beats are full of pep here, as Asher and Rossignoli rip loose in raptures, while the band unites for a lovely balmy hookline.

Like jazz cats playing the blues and all its rough stuff, Asher's group is proudly versatile. It can dance without restraint or be deeply expressive as required. Lord, When You Send The Rain makes for a resounding and passionate narrative, the latest act in a very human story.

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