Mezzanine, by Greenhouse Ensemble
It's probably fair to say that most fusion jazz listeners expect the jazz they hear to be infused with some genres, but not others.
The folk music germane to Quebec? Greenhouse Ensemble, all of whose seven members hail from that Canadian province, are on their second album of that manner of fusion. Mezzanine finds the septet in a heavier mode than its predecessor, Rez-de-chaussée, with further incorporation of electric guitar and electronic effects.
In so far as those moments when Greenhouse's rustic side intersects with Celtic influences via their fiddler, the result is comparable to what might have become of Irish new age group Metamora had they absorbed more heft into their aesthetic. Whether the Greenhouse sound emanates from brass, strings, or their battery of percussion, Roxane Reddy is likely to be wordlessly singing to it somewhere in the track, like a parallel to Elizabeth Fraser's vague vocalizations, only informed and surrounded by plyers taking cues from a nearly wholly different playlist than the Cocteau Twins' inspirations. The cumulative effect through Mezzanine's 11 tracks is a journey to a place to serenity, a peacefulness with whistling and humming, but not without tumult and turbulence before that soft landing.
