The members of the LAGQ come to the ensemble with eclectic musical tastes: John Deaman honed his skills playing Chet Atkins tunes; Bill Kanengiser was a follower of the prog-rock band Yes; Scott Tenant was an avowed flamenco fan; and Andrew York dabbled in styles from bop to grunge before taking a serious look at classical music. It’s no surprise, then, that the four pay homage to guitarists past and present whose musical orbits extend way past the classical world. From rock legend Jimi Hendrix to Gypsy jazz giant Django Reinhardt to the Brazilian sibling virtuosos Sergio and Odair Assad, the quartet meanders through myriad styles–each of which, in the hands of these players, has parity with the other. By juxtaposing jazz with bluegrass and metal with flamenco, the quartet offers a much more catholic view of good music than many of their “classical” contemporaries would tolerate.
These arrangements are fun, and the quartet makes some clever decisions. For example, Bryan Johanson’s Pluck, Strum and Hammer is a newly written tribute piece that cleverly evokes Hendrix’s stylistic innovations instead of trying to emulate his inimitable sound. But the real question is how all these diverse genres sound when music by some of their most representative and iconic composers and artists are arranged for acoustic guitar quartet. The answer, unfortunately, is that this cute concept doesn’t quite hold up as a satisfying listening experience, especially when heard as a whole album rather than individual selections.
From piece to piece, the four-guitar texture is simply too similar to create a memorable impression–and that’s a shame, considering how utterly distinct and strong the original performers’ voices actually are. And despite the LAGQ’s undeniable talent and professed love of all these genres, their performances aren’t seamlessly idiomatic in each style. (Admittedly, that’s a lot to ask of any performer, but then again the LAGQ invites the inevitable comparison when it takes on a project like this.) The result is a bland album that makes you long for Reinhardt’s own wry, crackling wit, Frank Zappa’s grit, and the ethereal glow of John McLaughlin’s Mahavishnu Orchestra. Guitar Heroes is a well-intentioned idea (and the disc boasts excellent sonics), but the execution just falls flat.
