Brass Jaw

Brass Jaw

Glasgow Art Club

Rob Adams

James Brown was frequently described as the hardest working man in showbusiness and the late godfather of funk would surely have found a kindred spirit in Brass Jaw's baritone saxophonist, Allon Beauvoisin, just as he might have hired Beauvoisin and his colleagues as his horn section.

The quartet is approaching its 10th anniversary and is currently in its third incarnation instrumentally. Having begun with four saxophonists playing in gutsy, gritty harmony while effecting a groovy contrapuntal flow, they moved on to trumpet and three saxes and now have trombone replacing the trumpet.

Their sound may not any longer offer the high-register pyrotechnics that Ryan Quigley's trumpet contributed but his replacement, Michael "the Mighty" Owers, has otherwise fitted in with the ease of a foot into a comfy shoe.

Their two sets in front of a standing-room-only audience here traced their recordings in chronological order, and while there's a noticeably increasing sophistication in arrangements over time they essentially hold to the worksong blueprint of catchy tunes, borrowing varyingly from gospel music's influence and played with admirable precision, where applicable, and lovable unruliness, where allowable.

Beauvoisin hardly gets time to draw breath. He's the motor that drives Owers, altoist Paul Towndrow and tenorist Konrad Wiszniewski's chorales and while the others take a break while one of them solos with unfailing, testifying fervour and imagination, the baritone is a constant accompaniment.

No mean feat when items such as the Beatles' Drive My Car set saxophone celebration against madly rising backdrops or Mr B's own Spineless recycles the chord sequence from John Coltrane's restless Giant Steps. Breathtaking stuff - literally - and presented with fun as well as expertise.