I knew, climbing the stairs to the Xerox Auditorium, that Andrey Razin & Second Approach was likely to be the most unusual group I would hear at this year's jazz festival. All of the music on the band's website is either on the edge or way over it, but that was what intrigued me about it. I was not disappointed.

The show started with an empty stage, but voices filled the air, chanting in an abstract, but melodic manner. As the bassist, pianist, and vocalist entered, they made it clear that their approaches to their instruments were not going to be the traditional ones. Razin went right for the inside of his piano, plucking the strings. Bassist Igor Ivanushkin picked up his bow, but he too headed to the piano to hit some of the attached chimes. And vocalist Tatyana Komova sang beautifully in her own musical language.

Later Komova used her vocalese to evoke teasing, pleading, arguing, kvetching, grumbling, stuttering, and many more attitudes and emotions. Everything her mouth could do was available to her; breathing into the microphone became a major component of one composition. 

In terms of technique and versatility, Razin was perhaps the most extraordinary pianist I've heard in eight festivals. He had classical chops (and Béla Bartók sensibility) and he used his skills to play percussively, frequently turning the piano into adrum kit of many colors. 

The show was far from crowded, but John Nugent deserves a lot of credit for introducing this group to an American audience.

Later, at Max's, the Lionel Louke Trio was not as far out, but the group had some things in common with Second Approach. The three musicians had worked together a long time (10 years) and could seemingly read each-other telepathically. And, although his group was more traditional, Louke made some decidedly weird noises with his mouth and exploited electronically stored harmonies extensively in his final tune. The net effect was to turn him into a one-man Ladysmith Black Mombazo. 

The trio took very seriously the jazz dictum that playing should be in the moment. That meant only four tunes in a set that lasted an hour and a half because there seemed no prearranged structures or limits to solos. Louke's musicians were also superb --- they have to be to keep up with him --- but some of the solos went on way too long.

Nothing was predictable. Even when the group played a standard like "Sky Lark," they kept ragged, impressionistic time. Louke's guitar tone was sometimes so bright it sounded like steel drums. But on other tunes it was just right, with a beautiful ringing tone.

Tomorrow night I'm looking forward to hearing the wonderful British singer, Tessa Souter and an experimental hybred, Michael Occhipinti & Sicilian Jazz Project.