JAZZIZ profiles Mute for After You've Gone

Michael Roberts spoke to members of Mute for Jazziz's Fall 2024 issue. Full text below:

Prelude: Speaking Volumes
by Michael Roberts
Jazziz, Fall 2024

Prelude: Speaking Volumes
With its singular approach to jazz and its cultural references, Mute says plenty.

The spark that led to the creation of Mute, an effortlessly innovative quartet, was struck by accident. Drummer Dayeon Seok invited saxophonist and clarinetist Kevin Sun, bassist Jeonglim Yang and pianist Christian Li for a casual jam at her Brooklyn-area rehearsal space sometime in 2016 or 2017. But Sun says, “I don’t think it was her intention to start a band. It began as a one-off.”

That changed quickly. According to Li, “the actual group dynamic developed when we set up some gigs in both China and Korea. The path was really amazing as to how it affected how everybody plays together.”

The band mates’ intuitive interactions have only strengthened over time. On After You’ve Gone, Mute’s sophomore release, Sun, Li, Yang and Seok navigate a thrillingly wide range of material with ease despite the demands it presents from both technical and thematic standpoints. “Even if I try to bring something that could come across as fussy, it ends up sounding like music because of the personalities of the musicians,” Sun notes.

Mute is frequently described as “Asian- American,” an identifier of dubious accuracy; Seok is a native South Korean who moved back to Seoul a few years ago. Sun doesn’t mind the label, seeing it as effective shorthand. However, Li fears it carries the risk of “closing the door on the way some people can relate to the music.”

The dialogue between artist and listener is particularly important on “China Boy,” a highpoint of After You’ve Gone. The oft-covered 1922 tune sports lyrical references to “oriental moonbeams” and “almond eyes” that offend modern sensibilities. But both sections of Sun’s two-part arrangement eschew the words, as well as the Dixieland style applied by most interpreters. “It was originally a lullaby,” he points out, and on part one, “we take a darker approach to it.” Part two, in contrast, delivers a wild free-jazz workout. “After You’ve Gone,” the offering’s title track, is also a chestnut. Dating back to 1918, it’s been performed by artists as varied as Bessie Smith and Phil Collins, usually as a hard-swinging rouser. But Mute chose an unusual path. “The idea was to play it slow and moody,” Sun says. “Christian’s really good at evoking the depths of twilight and beauty through harmony and texture.”

Li moves in quite another direction on “Reaganomics,” one of his most complex compositions. For him, “it was more about capturing the coldness and disassociation of modern economic policy —something that’s very lacking in human warmth.” In contrast, the pianist’s “Two Way Mirror,” an homage to saxophone great Wayne Shorter, is as reverent as it is joyful. “I’m a huge fan of Wayne as a composer,” he stresses. “So I tried to hear a melody he would play and how it would go with his sound.”

The members of Mute maintain busy schedules outside the group. Sun runs Endectomorph Music, the label that issued After You’ve Gone and The Fate of the Tenor, a vibrant live album featuring Sun with bassist Walter Stinson and drummer Matt Honor, which arrived earlier in 2024. In October, he plans
to unleash another solo effort, That Lights a Star, abetted by Li, Stinson and drummer Kayvon Gordon. But Mute remains a priority, in part, because of the way the players combine the head and the heart.
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“I don’t think we’re a super conceptual band,” Sun says. “Jeonglim brings an irreverence that makes everything earthier and more direct, just like Dayeon brings grace and accessibility. I have to give it up to all of them, because they make this music sound lively instead of just a concept.”