John Dikeman: No Kings

Recorded live in 2022, No Kings documents a volatile meeting between a formidable European horn partnership and American free jazz royalty. In 2015, expat American saxophonist John Dikeman initiated a trio with bassist William Parker and drummer Hamid Drake. Five years later, he invited Portuguese trumpeter Luis Vicente to join them, resulting in the quartet heard here on its second album, following Goes Without Saying, But It's Got To Be Said (JACC Records, 2020). The reedman and brass player share a deep connection, also affirmed by House In The Valley (Clean Feed, 2023), where they improvise on the trumpeter's compositions.

Similarly simpatico, ever since Parker and Drake first met under the aegis of German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann's Die Like A Dog Quartet in 1993, they have become everyone's dream team, performing with luminaries such as Fred Anderson, Kidd Jordan and Jemeel Moondoc, as well as Dikeman. With their flexible, unbounded swing elevating the music, almost anything sounds good. Still, fortunately, they are dealing with much more than minimum fare here, as all four enjoy a continually evolving exchange of ideas.

With his quick-fire gobbets, timbral exploration and melodic bent, Vicente at times recalls the late trumpeter Roy Campbell Jr, another regular colleague of the rhythm pair. However, without the Americans' hard bop roots, he prefers to skate above the pulse rather than get in the pocket. Nonetheless, he provides a pleasing contrast to Dikeman. A powerful player with a big tone, the saxophonist proves more partial to the groove. He tempers his Albert Ayler-inflected eruptions with lyrical flashes, but remains the most likely source of high octane fire breathing on the bandstand.

Together—as the horns entwine, come to the fore or drop out—they create a sort of supercharged update on New Orleans polyphony. As per their customary practice, Parker and Drake switch to other more exotic instruments—flutes, double reeds, guimbri, hand drums—partway through the nearly hour-long performance, offering variety and a restorative lull. However, while avoiding homogeneity, the energy also dissipates somewhat during this interlude, which likely works better in a live setting than on disc. As pace and density pick up, Drake transitions back to his kit, and Parker sets up an irrepressible lope on the guimbri (a North African lute), which reignites the fractious interplay so successful before. Although tracked as a single piece, after applause, a presumed ten-minute encore ensues—a tasty digestif uniting the foursome in airy dialogue.

Even with irregular encounters, the quartet maintains a collective identity -one which highlights the communal over the regal -honoring the legacy of the 1960s New Thing, while taking it places much more nuanced than might ever have been imagined.