With By A Thread, John Ellis follows up his critically-acclaimed One Foot In The Swamp, and he does so by largely shifting courses from its funk-laden predecessor. This time around, he dives deeper into harmonically complex waters, but true to his distinct voice as a songwriter, Ellis never sacrifices his penchant for classic hooks. “Little Giggles" is a sure contender for his most memorable melody yet with its sweet sing-song head that's as soulful as it is sweeping. On “Umpty Eleven," the quintet's front-line harmonize on a contagious lead line set atop of an easy rolling shuffle. The aforementioned “Ferris Wheel" is a full-tilt burner that lets the band stretch out, yet always returns full-circle to its soaring refrain.
“I wasn't particularly trying to make a jazz record, a funk record, a world music record, but rather to make a record that is an honest attempt to create a personal sound," state Ellis. “Personally, I love music that falls into many different categories, so the goal was really just to create good music."
By A Thread is marked by compositions that are often cinematic, creating uniquely palpable moods and atmospheres from one song to the next. “Swirl" is aptly titled with a dreamy progression that gently floats and flutters. It's a trait that has appeared before in Ellis' music, perhaps inspired by the wide open spaces of his childhood in rural North Carolina. A counterbalance is the film noirish aura of “Wishing Well" on which Ellis plays bass clarinet. It seems to suggest an open-ended story line that doesn't so much tell a tale as it hints at unsolved mysteries before disappearing altogether.
Another distinct element of By A Thread is the focus on group dynamic. Ellis and his quintet largely fly without a net, leaving behind the special guests and studio perfections of his previous outings. Recorded in just two days, the band is clearly in command of the material and consequently they navigate the tunes improvised sections with confidence and finesse. The quintet's players and instrumentation remain consistent from track to track. The major variable is Ellis who alternates between soprano and tenor saxophone, bass clarinet and ocarina. “Tall Drink Of Water" and “Old Man" are especially good examples as they take their own sweet time to organically expand, evolve and resolve. The former slowly builds section by section into a terse drum and bass rattle highlighted by Mike Moreno's thoroughly post modern guitar flights of fancy. The latter contains a rapturous piano solo by Aaron Goldberg amid the group's flowing interplay that masterfully morphs between colors and textures as the tune unfolds.
“By A Thread was recorded after a series of weekly gigs at the Knitting Factory's Tap Bar. During those gigs I had the opportunity to develop some new music and to play with some different musicians who lived in New York City. I had wanted to get a band together here that I felt as strong about as the group I had been working with in New Orleans. The idea was to make a record that was more a document of a working band," explains Ellis. “I had also been rediscovering, perhaps even craving, harmony after playing so much rhythm-based music (with Charlie Hunter), and so I had some tunes that drew more from that element of my playing than on my previous Hyena record."
But before the funkier side of John Ellis' musical personality is altogether dismissed, one must look no further then the slithery, down-tempo groove on “Lonnie." While not the New Orleans-flavored funk that's become his signature, it surely makes clear that a funky underbelly is part and parcel of Ellis' approach. Here, Aaron Goldberg jumps to Fender Rhodes and Terreon Gully holds down a syncopated pulse on cowbell, while Ellis' deeply resonant tenor is front and center. The album closer, “Moore's Alphabet," written for Galactic drummer Stanton Moore, also delivers a funk-heavy, feel-good groove that brings By A Thread to a close with an exclamation point.
“By A Thread as a title gets to the point of where everything is at on so many different levels. It describes this vulnerable tightrope walking feeling that improvising can have, and that making a record as a process of discovery can also have. As you hang on for dear life, you cultivate, above all, a feeling of trust with the musicians you're playing with," concludes Ellis. “Successful music, which I feel comes through you rather than from you, requires risk-taking and in that risk exists the capacity for failure. You have to accept that in order to succeed in my opinion. Falling is always a possibility. You hang on by a thread."
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