THE CACTUS OF KNOWLEDGE

Rabih Abou-Kahlil's twelfth album seems to encapsulate almost all the traits of the man and the characteristics of his music that so endear him to his fans. At this point in his career Abou-Kahlil is clearly comfortable with being the vehicle that takes complex jazz music and creates collaborations that result in really memorable performances.

For 'The Cactus of Knowledge' Rabih has assembled a dozen musicians, most of them heavyweights in the jazz world. I'm not familiar with all of his music, but a quick scan of liner notes from previous albums indicates this is one of the larger, if not the largest group he's every worked with in the studio. There's a lot of brass in this ensemble; in fact, except for the percussion, clarinetist Gabriele Mirabassi and cellist Vincent Courtois it's pretty much all brass.

That said, Mirabassi takes a central role on the album, acting at times as a complement to Abou-Kahlil's oud fingerings and at other times supplanting him in almost- solo fashion. She shines particularly brightly on "Fraises & Creme Fraiche", the one song on the album that ratchets down the tempo to a laconic, reflective pace.

Aside from that piece and "Ma muse M'amuse", where Courtois gets a chance to lead with his cello, the rest of the album is pretty hopping and energetic, and at times the artists seem almost frantic in their improvisation. I'm not any kind of expert on the technical aspects of jazz music, but I suspect part of this impression stems from the fact that the group is working with some incredibly complex components in the music, not the least of which are the very challenging and Eastern-inspired time signatures (6+5+5+3/16 on "Oum Saïd, for example). And yes, I had to look that up as I'd have no way of figuring it out myself.

There are little treats all over this album, from the extended sax solo on "Got to go Home" that crosses the line between jazz and rock so many times that the two styles blend; a gorgeous clarinet passage that's followed by a brass (mostly sax) interpretation of the same arrangement on the toe-tapping and lively "Maltese Chicken Farm"; and a brass/ percussion frenzy on "Pont Neuf" that somehow manages to sound all the world like a klezmer band despite the fact it was composed by an Arab.

There's plenty more to hear besides this; the entire album could probably be used as backing music in an aerobics class considering the energy it both exudes and inspires. In fact, there is a DVD version of these songs recorded with a live audience where Abou-Kahlil has the listeners actively participating in the music by getting out of their seats and swinging with the band. I've not see the thing except for one piece in an on-line video, but that was enough to convince me everyone went home feeling they got their money's worth as well as made some human connections at that concert.

I find it difficult to write about jazz music at times, owing mostly to my lack of technical knowledge of the genre, which I suppose is akin to a child trying to expound on particle string theory. But Abou-Kahlil's music is jazz for a world audience, an audience that includes those who don't live and breathe jazz but who are very interested in exploring their world and everything (and everyone) in it. Abou-Kahlil gets that, and I suspect this pretty much describes his attitude toward life as well.

This is a great album full of vibrant, complex music, and highly recommended to just about anyone. I'm tempted to give it a five star rating, but the bar is pretty high for this guy since I've heard what he's capable of on other albums, so four stars it is but on a scale that's frankly different than the one others are judged on.

peace