Music / Jazz
Review: Modulus III, Jam Jar
To call this gig ‘long awaited’ barely does it justice. The combination of post-lockdown gig starvation and the kind of devoted fanbase Modulus III had previously quietly attracted ensured it sold out in a matter of hours, weeks ago. You could have assembled a mini-fest of musical supergroups from the audience, too, reflecting the respect this improvising trio have among their jazz and rock peers. And then there’s the Jam Jar itself, its former warehouse vibe now transformed by chaotic artwork into a proper venue. Lord, but once the socially distanced tables were fully occupied it felt quite … real, like an event was happening.

Drew Morgan in cello mode
And an event it certainly was, combining finely crafted moments of music with the element of spontaneous surprise that improvisation should always bring. Whatever Modulus III play it is always made up on the spot, a process that benefits from regular workouts together, so it was inevitable that after the pandemic hiatus they would start with caution. Drummer Matt Brown set up a spare, open beat, Dan Moore added light, sketchy Fender Rhodes piano and Drew Morgan plucked fluid runs from his cello. That quiet opening gradually roiled up, however, with synth bass and full-toned drumming that evolved into an intense synth duo based on a pulsing drone of shifting harmonics. Through that tapestry Drew’s Moog produced the kind of indefatigable arpeggio riff that Terry Riley taught Philip Glass which Dan underpinned with a sonorous John Carpenter bass line. The drumming spread open again, then subtly expanded to fill the space available and bring things to a close.

Dan Moore, master of the electronic voices
It was a great crowd-pleasing opener that laid out the band’s stall in a nutshell – unhurried conscious music carefully assembled with economic precision and a collective understanding of tone and timing. The result, for all its spontaneity, thus always sounded like real music yet never felt held back. Drew was never afraid to make bold melodic statements and follow them wherever they might go, Dan continually adjusting the electronic voices to intensify the music’s colour and Matt always able to shift the dynamics and weight of percussion in ways that inevitably steer the others onto fresh ground.
is needed now More than ever

Deranged samba meister Matt Brown on drums
There was humour aplenty on the way, like the moment when Matt’s impression of a deranged samba band falling apart finally received a warning growl on electric piano announcing Dan’s deftly conjured Latin jazz groove. This was swiftly disputed by Drew’s anarchic synth and a free interlude followed that somehow emerged as a solid four-to-the-floor rock groove. It was reminiscent of the Velvet Underground but with soaring cello instead of John Cale’s viola. As with all their pieces it stopped just when it felt enough has been done with the idea.

Drew Morgan channelling Terry Riley on synth
All kinds of influences emerged, from Kraftwerk and Can to Terry Riley and Philip Glass via Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock, in a knowing celebration of all the exhilaration electronica has brought to jazz and rock from prog through to minimalism. It’s all at their fingertips – quite literally – and this performance reminded us of quite how alive live music can be. Hearing this unique creation assemble before our very ears made us happily complicit in the moment and left us more than satisfied (albeit bawling for more, natch).