Despite the lip-service paid to
bebop and
modal jazz -- particularly the playing of legends such as
John Coltrane and
Miles Davis -- by the late-'60s countercultural scene, few of its
rock bands actually attempted to translate the interest into music. The sole album from
High Treason, however, was steeped in the genre, thanks in large part to leader and schooled keyboard whiz (check the
Bach-like Baroque progressions of
"Circadian Rhythm")
Edgar Koshatka.
High Treason marries extensive
jazz interplay with a darkly atmospheric type of
rock that took its cues, right down to the shared coed vocals, from
the Jefferson Airplane. The music ultimately isn't as accomplished as anything in that band's catalog, but it is for want of distinctive songwriting, not because
High Treason lacked the chops or ideas to compete with the top-flight artists of the day.
High Treason has musicianship to spare, a profusion of adventuresome moments. But at just six numbers, it is very much an album that puts musical skills before songs. Vocalists
Marcie Rauer and
Joe Cleary sound much more at ease on the funky
country-soul of
"Maybe, Maybe," the finest actual song on the album, than they do on the
jazzy and
psychedelic material (the embarrassing scat interpretation of
"Subterranean Homesick Blues," for instance).
Rauer, in particular, tends to over-sing at times, presumably in an effort to sound more like
Grace Slick. The instrumentalists suffer no such problem. On the final two cuts,
"The Witch" and
"Fallin' Back," the band delves all the way into straight
jazz during extended instrumental passages with electric results. But both also highlight the problematic nature of the album. As wonderful as the music can be -- and each song has scintillating flashes -- there simply is nothing to take away except the memory of the outstanding playing. ~ Stanton Swihart
