Groucho Marx's refrain that "whatever it is, I'm against it" could also be an anthem for the American guitarist Bill Frisell though, in his case, an uncompromising character is camouflaged by an amiably tongue-tied and uncombative public demeanour. Most contemporary jazz soloists blow hailstorms of notes; Frisell plays a few that hang in the air or vanish into slurred, enveloping chords. Where current postbop refers back to 1960s jazz or the urgent sounds of Coltrane and Miles, Frisell's affections are for country music and a lazily stretching, warped-harmony take on American popular song.
On this tour, Frisell has opened up those enthusiasms to yet another vocabulary with only a passing acquaintance with jazz. He is partnered on this trip by not only his regular playing partners but also the great Malian guitarist Djelimady Tounkara, a relationship that began with an impromptu performance at the Barbican two years ago. Though Frisell's and Tounkara's respective approaches to the guitar could hardly be more different, the connections between the kinds of music they like are obvious. And as a celebration of the art of spinning colourful variation from simple song-forms, the London concert is a delightful encounter.
Frisell and Tounkara are supported by the former's regular associates, with Greg Leisz on slide guitars, Jenny Scheinman on violin and Sidiki Camara on handdrums and percussion. The frequency of jaunty twochord vamps as the underpinning of the music, and the absence of a deep low-end to it made the early episodes sound rather tentative and becalmed, until the players gained the confidence to play at odds to the simple shapes.
But Frisell's minimalism on a slow country blues brought a succession of steely - and distinctly Americansounding - lines out of Tounkara, and the African launched into a dazzling intro of starburst runs and jagged figures ebbing into silences on its successor. Playing unaccompanied, he also occasionally veered into flamenco-like figures. Frisell, with Scheinmann, offered glimpses of yet another culture - Celtic music - in some exquisite exhanges of long lyrical fiddle lines and hollow chords. By the second set the hesitancy was vanishing, with Leisz tellingly intervening, and Tounkara sounding like an African Django Reinhardt on acoustic guitar before coming to the front of the stage with the electric to whip the audience into handclapping participation on streams of glittering improvised melody.
· At the Opera House, Newcastle (0870 703 4555), tonight, then touring.
