Kinga Glyk: Real Life

Throughout daredevil bassist Kinga Glyk's Real Life there are several moments which border menacingly on mainstream Euro-pop and wanna-be fusion. Fortunately those (intentional or unintentional?) moments are heavily outweighed and outnumbered by thrillingly incandescent moments which lend themselves to that old catch-all street phrase of the '60s, '70s, and '80s: "Man this is some really high powered s**t!"

Because Real Life is high powered. And should be. Maybe that is the lesson to be learned from listening—live life high powered. Sure we all felt that way at Glyk's age (26) but why must the ensuing years cut us off at the knees? Dance kids dance! What else are you going to do in this time of dark skies, poisoned air, and arid land?

With a robust cast of young 'uns alongside her—aerophonist Casey Benjamin (Robert Glasper), drummer Robert Searight, keyboardists Caleb McCampbell (Beyoncé), Julian Pollack (Marcus Miller), Nicholas Semrad (Lauryn Hill), and longtime collaborator, multi-instrumentalist Brett Williams (Marcus Miller)—Real Life floats and crunches as it informs and satisfies.

Aligned in mind and mission as were fellow monster players and predecessors—Stanley Clarke, Jaco Pastorius immediately come into focus—that the bass should know no bounds—Glyk fires it up and keeps the flame burning. There is something definitely akin to Black Sabbath vs. Joe Zawinul happening on the metal crankingly seductive "Unfollower." Be it a surefire, mid-'70's throwback to those great burbling records by Billy Preston and Stevie Wonder or a vintage Herbie Hancock drop/funk driving "Who Cares" is anyone's guess, but who cares in the end when everyone wins?

Produced by Snarky Puppy's multi-instrumentalist, bassist & originator Michael League, Real Life, though is arguably too reliant on lush, dreamlike synth-phonics, snaps and pops with a precise and hip hoppy, 21st century crackle which is hard to resist. Harder still to resist is the slamming fusion homage "Swimming In The Sky," wherein Searight and Gym are locked in big time punching the track to higher and higher heights. (On a separate but tangentially musically related note, the track's changes may remind some of Little Feat's manic mid-period jazz splash "Day At the Dog Races.") "That Right There" in a word, is just ferocious. Like Glyk's playing. Like mostly ninety percent of Real Life.

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