CO2

Live at Shinjuku Pit Inn
February 6, 2003

Hiroaki Katayama—tenor sax
Eiichi Hayashi—alto sax岳晴
Takayuki Kato—guitar
Takeharu Hayakawa--bass
Yasuhiro Yoshigaki—drums

Eiichi Hayashi told me after the show that, “Playing free is the start of being a human being.” If so, CO2 is a very, very human band. They play with a wide-open concept of what free jazz can be, not limiting themselves to conventional definitions or standard boundaries. They play without constraint, and the result is unpredictable, cathartic and yet warmly human. The tension between avoiding predictable musical patterns and maintaining immediacy and closeness to the audience makes CO2 more than just a clever band name.

The first two numbers got off to a slow start, with all the members noodling around, looking for openings and directions. These two numbers stayed mid-tempo, and felt more like stretching and warming up than anything. That was probably wise, though, as the rest of the numbers were explosive, full-throttle adventures that taxed the stamina of every one in the quintet, and in the audience.

For CO2, the term “rhythm section” section should perhaps be changed to “arrhythmic section.” They occasionally dipped into a 4/4 beat, but then, only briefly, and almost like a passing memory. Yoshigaki’s drumming pegged out a wide array of sonic space, while Hayakawa sought for depth. Mainly, both the bass and drums headed in their own separate directions with a strong-willed sense of where they wanted to go. That created a slippery, yet weighty base for the other players. Kato’s guitar sporadically hit chords, blues riffs, or arpeggios, but mostly served as disruptive force, yanking at the sound with samples, scratchings, and intriguing noises.

On top of all this, Katayama and Hayashi traded explosive sax solos. They were happy enough to lay down a basic melody line on their intriguing originals, but after that, it was layer on layer of intense sonic lines. What impresses most is the incredible energy both of them pack into the sax. They didn’t look exhausted afterwards, but most of the crowd was. Their power, though, becomes infectious, releasing energy alongside their biting lines and abrasive attacks.

The harshness that most traditional-minded listeners will hear, though, is really a cover for the honesty and directness they bring to the music. There’s no canned phrases, no prettiness just for the sake of it, and  no compromising. Their heavy breathing releases plenty of CO2, all of it well-directed. Ultimately, though, what they offer is as much oxygen as carbon dioxide, a genuine breath of fresh free air.