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> CAREER HIGHLIGHTS - PHOTOS - REVIEWS - RESUME

>> CHURCH OF LOGICK - HOWL - JEWEL IN THE LOTUS - GREEN TROMAN STREET - A LOVE SUPREME - BOOK OF THE LAW

>>> JAZZREVIEW magazine - Coventry Telegraph - Birmingham Post

This Birmingham quartet lifts its name from a Medeski Martin & Wood tune (on their Combustication album), but direct pastiche is not the Church Of Logick's mission. It's just a hint towards some of the electric grooves to come. Keyboardist Steve Tromans has written all of the gig's tunes, and he's joined by Frank Moon (guitar), Mike Green (bass) and Carl Hemmingsley (drums).

As I arrive, the opening "Leviathan" is already slicing through the depths, dominated by a bleeding guitar swell that's reminiscent of Robert Fripp's layered excertions. Tromans is karate-chopping his keyboard in obsessive mode, setting up a jangling funk vamp. Green is pulsing tar-thick basslines around Hemmingsley's ringing drum crash. Actually, I end up sitting right in front of his kit, thus enhancing the beat-heavy experience.

This is one of the Church's denser outings. Moon opens up to a more conventionally jazzy guitar sound during the next few numbers, in line with John Schofield when in groovesome mode. There's room for thoughtful spaces, some semi-acoustic sounding electics. Green sets up a near-inaudible repeat bass figure then slowly, slowly raises the volume and emphasis, trimming his sound with fraying effects as he coaxes Hemmingsley into a similarly gradual development. The sticksman will leave long spaces then make a sudden blow, eventually constructing an acoustic version of a drum 'n' bass break. So many drummers have now become adept at this process, and it works particularly well here, when supported by the hard cycles of the other three band members.

They set out to make "Speed of Thought" a one minute piece. I wasn't stopwatching it, but methinks they succeeded. It slaloms through several sections in the Zorny manner, invigorating in its rush of hyperactivity. During the interval, it seems like Logick have scared off a goodly portion of the audience. These free-entry 'commuter jazz' sessions normally feature the music in its post-bopping mainline form.

The peak of the second set is "Victor Jara", named after the Chilean poet and singer. Once again, building intensity is the plan, with tattooed drums goading Moon's twanging guitar in the Morricone manner. There's only one stretch of the set that loses its grip on this listener, where Moon starts to sound like Allan Holdsworth (in his present bland state) and Tromans whips out the old warbly Moog palette. This is an outbreak of bad 1970s fusion, but the overwhelming majority of the Logick set was considerably more forward-thinking.

Tromans is continually proving his diversity, developing a strong voice as a composer and steadily building up his portfolio of different bands for different musical concepts.