Hideki Kato “Green Zone”

"Green Zone"

(Doubt Music) 2005

Hideki Kato—bass, violin

Yoshihide Otomo—guitar

Masahiro Uemura--drums

Angry, political, and biting, Hideki Kato's new "Green Zone" is a brilliant take on the anger he felt in response to the imperialist invasion of Iraq by United States' forces. The title, "Green Zone," of course refers to the area around the central army command center in the middle of Baghdad. It's an area that is supposed to be safe from suicide bombers and missiles, but of course, is hardly that. People die there every day.

Kato calls his CD "a documentary film without pictures," and the description is accurate. In the tradition of jazz, he wants to tell a story; but unlike jazz, his stories are angry, disturbing and highly politicized. In other words, this is not a CD for the faint of heart.  Every story, whether "Oil and Water," "Agent Orange," or "Hope Against Hope," speaks sharply and directly about one aspect of the current disaster.

And they speak loudly. This is electric jazz trio at its most vitriolic. Otomo on guitar has rarely played with such passion, Uemura on drums with such power, and Kato on bass drives them and pulls them forward every step of the way. Their collaboration was an unusual one, as Kato, now living in New York, has only rarely and recently returned to Japan. Recorded live at Shinjuku Pit Inn when he finally returned last year, the sound quality is excellent, even when the bass and electric guitars are blasting away with Hendrix-like fury and the drummer flailing like a banshee.

What Kato captures is a range of expressiveness. His aural documentary responds to the world, but comes from within. This expressionistic style will surely not appeal to many listeners, and quite frankly, the frightening intensity of the music is seriously disturbing at times, but it was a CD that simply had to be made. A few other jazz musicians have made similar political statements, Charlie Haden's Liberation Orchestra for one, but none have done so with such agonizing effect.

The range of feelings, though, extends farther than at first listen. The group has a sense of irony, even playfulness at times. The music often drops down to bluesy musings, as on "Enemy Within" and moments of calm minimalism, like on "Curtains of Grief." These "recovery" periods give the listener a chance to reflect on the issues in between the cathartic outpourings. That balance shows not only how deeply Kato feels about the current outrages perpetrated in Afghanistan and Iraq by a country that has betrayed its own ideals, but also how fully he can respond as an artist still in control of his artistic form while shaking with anger.

This uncompromising set of songs will definitely not suit everyone's tastes, but then it was surely not intended to. As a musical statement, though, it is a work of power, feeling, imagination and insight that many will clearly and deeply understand.