Eugene Chadbourne is responsible for some of my favourite musical moments, as well as quite a few I’d rather forget. The Hills Have Jazz is a disc to add to the positive side of the ledger – in fact, it’s the kind of album that could win over a lot of Chadbourne skeptics. No vocals. No mildly-amusing comedy routines. No electric rake, balloons or other paraphernalia. No lo-fi, no sloppy editing. A nice, in-tune, non-abused guitar (on loan from Eugene’s buddy Wes Craven). A bundle of great tunes by Sun Ra, Dolphy, Coltrane, Dameron and Oliver Lake. A rotating cast of (little-known but excellent) LA players that includes drummer Richie West, Chadbourne’s old partner from Camper Van Beethoven. The cover art . . . well, actually, the cover art is as cheesy as always. (Can’t win ’em all.)

As for the music? There are, as you’d expect from Chadbourne, some cheerfully wayward swingers: the band handles a couple of Eric Dolphy tunes and Dameron/Basie’s “Good Bait” with a light touch and campfire-singalong looseness. Other tracks are surprisingly dark in mood. Sun Ra’s “Space Jazz Reverie” is nightmarishly intense, for instance, and Bill Barrett gives a mournful harmonica-blues vibe to Lake’s “Heavy Spirits.” Chadbourne turns Trane’s “Miles Mode” into a hypnotic, mournful groove piece on which his banjo might almost be a sitar. Best of all is the killer guitar/drums duet on “Nonaah”: Lonnie Johnson meets Roscoe Mitchell!

Aside from the music, there’s another reason you should own this disc: Chadbourne’s liner notes, one of the most remarkable prose narratives ever to grace a CD booklet. The tale begins at the grave of Bela Lugosi, takes a winding path that includes a day on the set of Wes Craven’s new film and an awkward e-mail exchange with Larry Coryell, and winds up with a supernatural encounter in the hotel room where Chet Baker met his demise. (Chadbourne feels an odd kinship with the trumpeter: “Chet Baker and I have something in common, I think: we both sing as well as play, and according to many critics we both sing badly.”) It’s a bravura and hilarious piece of writing, and also quite thoughtful too: Chadbourne speaks of how this session “fulfilled a kind of ideal of playing jazz: taking the themes and making them sing in a way that is personal and special.” You can say that again.

Nate Dorward

Cadence, November 2005