Mike Keneally and the Metropole Orkest: The Universe Will Provide

The Universe Will Provide is not for everyone. Mike Keneally’s latest launch into the musical ether falls into the cliché category of “you’re either going to love it or hate it”. But it’s true. It’s hard to imagine someone having a middle-of-the-road reaction to this piece of work.

For a musical virtuoso like Keneally, acclaimed for his ability to play with disparate talents ranging from Frank Zappa to Steve Vai to the Metropole Orkest, making an album like this almost seems like the next logical step. And The Universe Will Provide is anything but logical.

Keneally had just started to master his first instrument, the keyboard, when he moved with his family to California from New York in the early ’70s. Upon hitting the left coast, he took it upon himself to add the guitar and drums to his repertoire. He was struck by classical compositions, and spent much of his time imitating the old masters. But when Keneally heard Frank Zappa at the age of ten, everything changed. Keneally continued his pursuit of aural grace until fate intervened in 1987. A spot opened up in Zappa’s band when Steve Vai left, and Keneally was given a shot with his hero. He went on to tour with Zappa for the next four years, until Zappa passed away in 1991.

Ironically, it is the span of time before he fell under the influence of Zappa that Keneally has chosen to concentrate on for his latest record. Those not familiar with Keneally’s work, or sympathetic to modern experimental classical music, may take some time to warm up to The Universe Will Provide. With its dissonant harmonics, it’s an album that’s difficult to wrap your ears around. Fans of jazz fusion will recognize elements from such classics as Miles Davis’s 1991 album Miles and Quincy Live at Montreux. Others might treat the album’s seeming meandering as mere soundtrack wish fulfillment. In fact, there are several cuts on The Universe Will Provide that seem to demand visual accompaniment. It’s easy to imagine the music chasing alongside Erik Estrada on an old episode of CHiPs. Whether this is due to Keneally’s earlier work with the master of psychedelic pastiche, Frank Zappa, or through true intention of the artist is hard to say.

Keneally chose to collaborate on The Universe Will Provide with the Metropole Orkest, a big band founded in 1940’s by Dolf van der Linden. For over half a century, it solidified a name for itself as one of the premiere European jazz orchestras. Over the years, the ensemble has recorded with artists ranging from Tony Bennett and Natalie Cole to Lee Konitz. It is for this versatility that Keneally chose the orchestra to accompany him on his current project. The Metropole Orkest is just as comfortable bringing the intensity that rock and roll demands as it is outlaying the subtleties of chamber music.

Keneally and the Metropole Orkest open the album with “Blue 68”, a soft spoken piece reminiscent of one of Mozart’s minuets. The track does an excellent job setting the tone for the rest of the album. Keneally spends some time in his liner notes talking about how the music on The Universe Will Provide is really a collaboration between his modern and eight-year-old self. He goes on to dedicate the album in its entirety for the enjoyment of the eight-year old inside all of us. The dedication sums up the feeling of The Universe Will Provide nicely. This is not to say that it’s simplistic. It’s just a highly playful piece of work that utilizes sound as much as it does chord progressions and harmonies. “Archaic Peace Strangers” is a perfect example, with its lilting slide trombone and downshifting between guitar and horn riffs. Or “Four Slices of Toast”, which is as childlike and psychedelic as anything on the album. Other tracks sound like they’ve been pulled from film scores. “Room” has a free jazz quality that could easily find itself in a Bruce Willis action/adventure spectacle. “All of Them Were Quiet” wears shades of Phillip Glass’s Heroes Symphony.

As the disclaimer at the top of the review states, this isn’t an album you’re going to put on your stereo and take to immediately (unless, of course, you’re already well acquainted with Keneally’s work). This is an album that asks you to place yourself in a very specific mental space before you’ll be able to appreciate it. Whether you’re able to do this really depends on how much you remember of what it means to be eight.