Afric Pepperbird

London International Jazz Festival...

2011-11-15T22:26:00.001Z

Tomorrow marks the start of the now annual trip to the London International Jazz Festival. So many tantalising gigs that we've already missed, and many more that we'll miss because I'm yet to discover a reliable way of being in more than one place at a time.

A really good cross-section of modern artists lined up though - Marcin Wasilewski; Stefano Bollani; Martial Solal; Empirical (with Robert Mitchell); Roy Haynes; Peter King; Henry Threadgill; John Escreet; Bill Frisell, and best of all Archie Shepp with my all time favourite pianist Joachim Kühn, who stunned me back in the '90s with one of the most intense solo performances I've ever witnessed. That wild unkempt hair says it all, this man takes no prisoners...

We may find a few more gigs to see, perhaps Arild Andersen and Tommy Smith's ECM 'tribute', but come what may I'll be armed with the trusty iPad and Pages App and sending my missives to Jazz Journal editor Mark Gilbert for instant publication on the website.

Hopefully they'll appear online the following day, though I doubt I'll have time to do much for Afric Pepperbird. If however you're in any way curious about just which shade of scintillating Joachim conjures, you may well find the answer here...

Fred Grand

Gateshead Namaste...

2011-10-09T11:59:00.000+01:00

Quite a lazy summer for live music - since Glasgow we've only been to see three gigs. It's not that there hasn't been plenty happening on the vibrant Tyneside scene, but more to do with the fact that so little of it is music that I can genuinely get excited about. That said, I read Paul Bream's frank commentaries on the current arts funding crisis with a great deal of concern. I sincerely hope that the resurgence of interest in contemporary styles that I played a small part in kickstarting - remember Derek Bailey, Peter Brötzmann, Jemeel Moondoc and the Vandermark 5? - won't be allowed to wither in the face of the lethal combo of savage cuts to the arts and the sometimes blasé apathy of people like myself. Newcastle is now an established international hub, although this present crisis is a reminder of just how reliant on the endeavours of a few activists (and an annual pot of grant subsidy) it still remains.

In the current financial climate the message from the top seems to be one of 'sink or swim' - if you can't self-finance, why should the taxpayer bail you out? That's a whole essay in its self, but needless to say there are very few places in the world where the complicated set of factors peculiar to the promotion of a minority music can be truly left to market forces. Upfront costs to the promoter of instrument and venue hire, cautious ticket pricing, the capacity of local venues themselves - breaking even is virtually impossible in the provinces, underlning the need to subsidise minority arts so that culturally valuable traditions can both survive and grow.

Of course this is all highly subjective, and some would argue that subsidising 'improv', a music for which audiences still barely scrape into double figures despite lots of local exposure, is the duty of any responsible and culturally 'switched on' Government The enduring value of jazz in its broadest sense is surely inarguable by now, making its subsidy as essential as that of ballet or opera, but perhaps it is part of the overall master plan for 'improv' that it will be enthusiastically picked up by an evangelical army of Big Society volunteers? All joking aside, I do fear that talented guys like Mark Sanders, John Edwards and Steve Noble will find it increasingly difficult to perform the music they love in front of audiences outside of London.

It all seems somehow different in our capitol city, but if gigs in the provinces start to dry up then the impact will surely be felt by London based artists too Two of the three gigs we've seen since the Glasgow trip were at the South Bank Centre, prototype for The Sage. The first gig formed part of the summer of Festival of Britain commemorations, one of a series of four gigs celebrating different aspects of British jazz. Soweto Kinch led a brilliant quintet (which included Byron Wallen and Jim Hart) through a programme of Joe Harriott's music, largely drawn from the 'Abstract' LP. Really getting under the skin of the man and his music (and from a contemporary perspective), this was as successful a tribute as you could ever hope to hear, and I have to say that it was also much more stimulating than Vandermark's relatively conservative 'Straight Lines' project of a few years back. Proof also that in the right place (i.e. London), otherwise neglected corners of British jazz can still be celebrated in front of packed houses.

The main event which had first drawn us to London took place the following evening. Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock and Jack De Johnette wowed a packed Royal Festival Hall, where punters had paid around £75/head for the privilege. But a privilege it certainly was, with the trio in relaxed but expansive mood. Any hangovers of Jarrett's debilitating viral illness seem long gone, the trio storming through two sets and four encores. Artistry of the very highest level, it was one of those rare experiences (just like Stanko's Glasgow show) which seem almost perfect.

Last night we were back to the rather less glamorous provincial scene, travelling through the cold and the rain to Gateshead Old Town Hall to hear Arun Ghosh's quintet. A very different line-up to the one billed - no Idris Rahman or Shabaka Hutchings, but Corey Mwamba popped up on vibes to temper the slight disappointment. Ghosh's energy was infectious, but only a disappointingly small crowd turned out to see one of the most refreshing voices on the UK scene (making this a highly subsidised event, to return to this by now rather obvious thread). Playing material from his soon to be released second album, it was evident just how naturally Ghosh fuses collective improvisation with the Eastern influences of Alice Coltrane and Pharaoh Sanders, the energy of rock, and the formal disciplines of European music.

I couldn't help but notice that an upcoming performance by Julian Siegel for Jazz North East clashes with Christian Wallumrød's show at The Sage. With such a small local audience for promoters to scrapple over, this dilution of impact and lack of local co-ordination doesn't really make a lot of sense. I'm sure that many would potentially go to both gigs, but I know from my time at Jazz North East that these things do happen from time to time, and that once the bookings are made there's very little that can be done but to hope that your event is the more attractive of the two. Faced with this choice it'll be the Norwegian visitor who'll be getting our dollar, but how about a joining of forces to present the two groups as a double bill?

London Jazz Festival is not far away, and for the second year running we'll be combining some Christmas shopping with my birthday. I'm already excited about seeing Joachim Kühn (with Archie Shepp), Marcin Wasilewski with Stefano Bollani and Martial Solal, Bill Frisell, and Roy Haynes. We may even check out Henry Threadgill, although the inclination to wade in his rather strange but fascinating musical treacle isn't really there at the moment. So good to have the option, though...

Fred Grand

Glaswegian Kisses...

2011-07-17T12:19:00.012+01:00

Over the years I've been to Glasgow International Jazz Festival many times, though I haven't paid it a visit now for at least a decade. A few fallow years with little of interest, coupled with the constant stream of quality music presented locally at The Sage, has made the festival somewhat superfluous in the overall scheme of things. Happily that has now changed, as memories of all those previous trips north came flooding back during our visit to the 25th anniversary edition of the festival.

Looking through the festival brochure, I must have driven Louise crazy as I recalled evenings spent listening to the likes of Max Roach, Bill Frisell, Tony Williams, Paul Motian, Bobby Hutcherson, McCoy Tyner, Nils Petter Molvaer, Chico Freeman, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, and the Mingus Big Band. Did you know that I once saw Idrees Muhammad playing with John Hicks and Steve Grossman in Glasgow? Back in the 90's it was almost an annual pilgrimage, and I was often accompanied by the late Chris Yates and son Stephen. We 'discovered' rising stars like Joshua Redman, Robert Mazurek and Jacky Terasson before they were famous, and the unique ambience of the Old Fruitmarket always seemed to offer up something to savour. Significant and formative experiences in my jazz education, to others I guess my memories will be little more than a gratuitous list of names, but Louise certainly approved of our favourite watering hole, the Babbity Bowster, which was just as I remember it.

The last time I was up there was to hear a scintillating Pharoah Sanders in the Old Fruitmarket, which I don't think was even part of the festival. Since then, this most unusual and character-full venue has had a massive overhaul, and if I'm not mistaken the main stage has moved to the opposite end of the hall. There's now a whole complex of music stages in the City Halls, and the Merchant City is really thriving. Tinderbox, home of some of the best fresh coffee either of us have ever tasted and fresh continental cakes including divine friandes, was just around the corner. Even before hearing a single note of music had been heard, it was great to be back!

The lure of Tomasz Stanko was the irresistible force that had initially drawn me back to Clydeside, and with several other events taking place over the same weekend a plan quickly came together. It was a shame that we'd missed Mulatu Aststake, Tommy Smith's Karma and Kit Downes's trio earlier in the week, but taking in the entire event would have been too much of a stretch. Stanko was originally billed in an intriguing double header with Lee Konitz, though serious ill health prevented the venerable saxophonist from appearing. Left fronting Florian Weber's trio 'Minsarah' alone, out of Konitz's adversity Stanko produced an almighty triumph! This was undoubtedly one of the greatest gigs I've ever seen, the great trumpeter in complete command of his unique voice as he floated through through many of his best known pieces. Minsarah were new to me, though I've been aware of Weber for a couple of years. This free-wheeling trio enveloped the music as if it were their own, and in many respects Stanko's great legacy does indeed belong to every contemporary European artist. Stanko's status as one of the greatest living jazz improvisers was emphatically underlined in this near perfect performance.

Following hot on the heels of Stanko, in the rather more intimate surroundings of the Tron Theatre, was another top drawer European dish. Edition Records certainly have a class act on their hands with 'Meadow'. John Taylor, Tore Brunborg and Thomas Strønen collectively and individually held the audience rapt with their delicate improvisations. Playing entirely acoustically, their close listening and sensitivities to nuance were impeccable. Brunborg, surely the most considered and calculating improviser I've seen for a long time, stuck entirely to tenor. It was good to hear his more extrovert side emerge from time to time, and although very much under the spell of Garbarek I can think of musical touchstones that are far, far worse.

Speaking of Garbarek, he was in fine voice with the Hilliard Ensemble at Durham Cathedral last week. With licence to improvise, he literally walked-the-talk up and down the central knave. His well-established connection to Eastern musical influences made him very much at home with the Armenian liturgical roots of much of the material. Like Stanko or Frisell his biggest asset is that unique musical voice, and no matter what musical company he may keep that voice always stays true. Cynical doubters of this project, perhaps unimpressed by its crossover appeal, need to re-examine their position quickly!

The other Glasgow gigs were in many respects there to pad out the main events of the weekend, though there was something good to take from each. Leon Russell's deep south boogie was fine in small doses, whilst Ramsey Lewis's run through the bulk of his Earth Wind & Fire produced gem 'Sun Goddess' (1974) was an unqualified success. Courtney Pine's 'Europa' was a great show, combining crowd pleasing entertainment with a strong cast of gifted artists including Zoe Rahman and Omar Puente. Ridiculously young guitarist Andreas Varady showed that he'll have a great future ahead of him if he survives puberty, and during his relaxed afternoon set his regular quartet was joined by Ryan Quigley on a slowed down 'Giant Steps'.

I've got a neat pile of CDs to review at the moment, including the latest Gary Burton ('Common Ground') which marks a stunning return to form,. The new Tonbruket disc consolidates Dan Berglund's post E.S.T. direction of travel away from the jazz mainstream, whilst Laszlo Gardony's latest shows what an under-rated player he continues to be. I can't quite make my mind up about John Escreet's densely formed fusion, though with Wayne Krantz in the group it can't be too bad. As far as live music goes, we'll pass on tonight's Newcastle gig by Paul Dunmall, so next up for us will be a London break taking in Soweto Kinch's Joe Harriott tribute and Keith Jarrett's 'Standards' trio...

Fred Grand

Stern Words...

2011-06-28T19:05:00.001+01:00

The latest Jazz Journal is out now, and my interview with Mike Stern has made it as a cover feature. Looks superb, and top marks to editor Mark Gilbert for taking a chance with a feature on a musician who most would agree doesn't really fit with the tastes of the normal JJ constituency!!

Needless to say I'm delighted, and the fact that Stern waxes lyrical about bop should surprise and wrong foot a few people.

Off to Glasgow soon to catch a few gigs at the International Jazz Festival - Tomasz Stanko followed by Meadow (Tore Brunborg, John Taylor and Thomas Strønen) look like the stand outs - and hope to blog again after the festival...

Fast taste, slow read...

2011-05-16T16:17:00.006+01:00

One of the features I used to love in Jazz Review was the Fast Taste column. I don't think I did it more than three times, but receiving a box full of 30-40 CDs and choosing about 15 to encapsulate in just a few words was a very different type of challenge. How often do you see Cecil Taylor and Paul Whiteman reviewed in the same column? Sadly the column is no more now that the magazine has morphed identities, although we do still do brief reviews of single discs in Jazz Journal.

Back to the present, and my new release of the moment, even displacing Matthias Eick from his lofty pedestal, is the Nils Økland's latest disc on ECM. Just over an hour of concentrated beauty, and the perfect marriage of Scandinavian folk music and contemporary classical composition. The label is in fact having a great 2011, and I'd also highly recommend recent releases by Julia Hülsmann, Marcin Wasilewski, Iro Haarla and Colin Vallon.

On that positive note, here's my last ever Fast Taste from August 2008. The Michael Adkins disc wasn't actually in the box, but Michael contacted me diredtly after stumbling across this page and after hearing the disc and loving it I was happy to slip it in anyway.

Apologies to those who have contacted me recently offering CDs to review - I've just been so busy that I couldn't possibly have taken on any more work. Things are starting to quieten down again now, and perhaps I'll get round to exploring some new sounds soon.

JULIAN “CANNONBALL” ADDERLEY Live In Italy 1969 (Gambit Records 69289)

Numerous releases culled from radio footage and concert archives of the Adderley brothers’ quintet with Joe Zawinul are available, and often there’s little to choose between them. Most offer at least one version of ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’ and ‘Walk Tall’, capture the leader’s loquacious banter between tracks, and balance acoustic and electric instrumentation. This disc actually presents two concerts just days apart, but despite the title only one was actually recorded in Italy. Standout track is ‘The Scavenger’, which flirts with modal chaos, and whilst the remainder is firmly in line with expectations, it’s a nice document of the group in a period of musical transition.

MICHAEL ADKINS QUARTET Rotator (hatOLOGY 660)

Prior to having my interest piqued by Rotator, I knew nothing of Canadian tenor saxophonist Michael Adkins. With a full-bodied sound, thoughtful oblique phrasing and an intelligent use of micro-tonalities, Adkins’ voice lies somewhere beyond Joe Lovano. The thrill of hearing Paul Motian at his most expansive is to a large extent Adkins’ achievement, the drummer seemingly spurred on by the inherent drama of the music. Motian adopts its confident swagger through many points of disintegration, and no storm is too turbulent, yet the patterns are never predictable and an underlying calm enigmatically remains. Pianist Russ Lossing and bassist John Hébert complete a highly responsive quartet, and if you like melodies with your freedom, you’ll need to hear this.

CHET BAKER with DICK TWARDZIK The Complete 1955 Holland Concerts (Lonehill Jazz LHJ10334)

A very young Chet Baker obligingly corrects the program notes to announce that Dick Twardzik will be playing the piano this evening, not Russ Freeman. Given the short career of the almost mythical pianist, the discovery of these tapes comes as welcome news even 53 years on. Drawn from performances in The Netherlands on consecutive days, it hardly matters that some of the material overlaps. Baker’s sound is as fragile and bell-like on the ballads as the pianist’s is heavy-handed and blocky, but together they made a great pairing. Twardzik died in Paris of a drugs overdose barely a month later, and Baker’s announcement that “…we hope to be back in a year or two...” was, with hindsight, wildly optimistic. Variable sound quality, but an invaluable document.

CLIFFORD BROWN Four Classic Albums (Avid Jazz 2CD AMSC950)

The stream of un-copyrighted material currently being re-issued is something of a mini-thread in this column. Challenging times undoubtedly lie ahead for the major record labels, which stand to see former Crown Jewels disappearing unless they can compete on quality and price. Here is a case in point – four great Clifford Brown albums from the mid ‘50s, collected, crisply re-mastered and sold perfectly legally. For the record we get Brown & Roach Inc., Study In Brown, Jam Session and odd man out New Star on The Horizon (a 1953 date with Art Blakey on drums). Original artwork is a little small, but the liner notes survive intact. Such historic music should need little comment or introduction to such a discriminating readership, and suffice to say that if you don’t yet own all of the material, this release deserves serious consideration.

XAVIER CHARLES/IVAR GRYDELAND/CHRISTIAN WALLUMRØD/INGAR ZACH Dans Les Arbres (ECM 2058)

A laminal and very organic post-AMM soundworld, this is not the kind of release you immediately associate with latter day ECM. Extended techniques include piano preparations, scraping percussion, flutter-tongued clarinet and even some ‘just’ intonation banjo. There is a hypnotic, almost ritualistic quality to the way in which tension builds and releases. My over riding impression is of an unsettling journey through one of Caspar David Friedrich’s dense, dark forests. Dans les Arbres is both an album and a group title, so I suspect the effect is wholly intentional. Intriguing and unsettling in equal measure, this should satisfy fans of ‘new’ music and ‘improv’ alike.

KENNY CLARKE Telefunken Blues (Jazz Track Records 940)

A mix & match package offering two complete albums with original covers and liner notes. Telefunken Blues comprises two sessions. The first prominently features the vibes of Milt Jackson, and with Percy Heath’s bass we almost have the MJQ. Frank Morgan’s searing alto and Walter Benton’s fruity tenor alter the dynamics however, with outstanding results. Basie-ites Frank Wess, Henry Coker and Charlie Fowlkes bring a lighter swing to the album’s B Side, whilst the remaining music was originally released as The Kenny Clarke-Ernie Wilkins Septet (1955). More of an arranger’s date really, but Klook’s unaccompanied ‘Now’s The Time’ still sounds right out there.

GRAHAM COLLIER Down Another Road/Songs For My Father/Mosaics (BGO Records CD767)

Independent label BGO has virtually cornered the market for quality re-issues of material from what I regard as the ‘golden era’ of British modern jazz. Here we have three complete albums spanning the years 1968-70, and a subtle shift can be traced in Collier’s music over the course of the two CDs. Post-bop explorations of freedom and structure are the starting point, dallying occasionally with rock before finally acquiring a greater open-endedness of form on Mosaics. Harry Beckett, Stan Sulzmann, Alan Wakeman and John Taylor are all generously featured, yet even with their considerable talents it is the music’s Euro-centric re-examination of sounds from across the Atlantic that leaves the deepest impression. So many options exist for the musicians, and Collier’s urgent musical structures make the perfect frame. Delicious.

WAYNE HORVITZ GRAVITAS QUARTET One Dance Alone (Songlines 1571-2)

Along with Pat Metheny and Bill Frisell, Wayne Horvitz is one of the great exponents of ‘Americana’ in contemporary jazz. In this, the second Songlines album from his Gravitas Quartet, his fascination with melding improvisation and through composition is further explored. Peggy Lee’s cello and Sara Schoenbeck’s bassoon add both texture and counterpoint, whilst Ron Miles’ plaintive trumpet states folksy themes and splutters into abstraction with equal alacrity. More spiky than its predecessor and with fewer typically Horvitz-ian pieces, this is nevertheless a quietly impressive addition to an uncommonly individual body of work.

CAROLYN HUME Gravity and Grace (LEO RECORDS LR515)

This is British pianist/composer Carolyn Hume’s fifth outing for Leo, and to my ears her most satisfying yet. A haunting series of meditations, the pairing of Hume’s rich, brooding piano with the classically trained voice of Sonja Galsworthy and the cello of Oliver Coates creates what could easily be a suitably elegiac soundtrack for a classy Claude Chabrol mystery. Minor key and spacious, there’s an economy and grace recalling the best ECM New Series crossovers. This is contemporary chamber-jazz with a magnetically irresistible luxuriance.

JOE McPHEE with Paul Plimley & Lisle Ellis Sweet Freedom – Now What? (hatOLOGY 602)

Discerning readers will probably own this1994 landmark already, but its re-issue is nevertheless worth bringing to wider attention. A beautifully crafted and highly personal take on Max Roach’s Freedom Suite (1960), three under-sung talents operating on the cusp of free-jazz and improvised music create something truly heartfelt and poignant. There’s a far greater connection to the tradition here than in much of McPhee’s work, and the questions he poses, both musical and metaphorical, are clearly as relevant as they were for Roach. ‘Triptych’ makes the hairs stand up on the back of the neck, and the faster of the two takes of ‘Mendacity’ should meet anybody’s definition of swing. If you only ever buy McPhee disc, make this the one.

ZOE & IDRIS RAHMAN Where Rivers Meet (Manushi Records CD004)

An exploration of colliding cultures, Where Rivers Meet may come as something of a surprise to listeners only familiar hitherto with Rahman’s trio. In essence it’s simply a more explicit statement of her dual heritage, expanding the instrumental palette and making viable jazz vehicles from Bengali source material. Idris Rahman, her brother, gets equal billing, and his pithy clarinets are at various times augmented by the voices of other Rahman siblings. The modal stasis and the influence of traditional Raga forms bring echoes of the more transcendental moments from Alice Coltrane’s Impulse! works of the early ‘70s. Where Rivers Meet is an impressive statement from one of Europe’s rising stars.

FRANK ROSOLINO Let’s Make It (Lonehill Jazz LHJ10331)

Trombonist Frank Rosolino is legendary for all of the wrong reasons, his tragic personal life overshadowing considerable prowess as a musician. A leading light of the late ‘50s West Coast jazz scene, these two albums from 1957 and 1958 capture him at his peak. The Frank Rosolino Quintet sees him fronting a group with Richie Kamuca and Vince Guaraldi. The pianist adds a marvellous piquancy to the date, and Kamuca’s soloing and counterpoint is the essence of ‘cool’. Harold Land and Victor Feldman come in for the 1958 session, and the more varied selections and arrangements make it slightly the more interesting date. An original in every way, full justice is done to Rosolino’s much feted ability to get around the horn using wild intervallic leaps and astonishing agility. Impressive.

CECIL TAYLOR Jazz Advance (Fresh Sounds FSR-CD 485)

One consequence of the march of time is the advancing frontier of non-copyrighted material ripe for re-issue. Here we have a seminal classic that should need no introduction, lavishly re-issued under the nose of Blue Note with reproductions of the original artwork and liner notes. Such audacity can’t ever be as shocking as the impact this music still holds, straddling traditional jazz and the as yet uncharted territories ahead. Fresh Sounds add three live tracks from Newport 1957 (originally issued on Verve), making it pretty much a definitive edition. Even if you never travel any further down this progressively difficult road, no serious collection should be without such a bona fide milestone as Jazz Advance.

HIROMI UEHARA Hiromi’s Sonicbloom – Beyond Standard (TELARC CD83666)

Post-fusion reconstructions of jazz standards are a dime-a-dozen, usually needing a high degree of artistic judgement to avoid collapsing under their own portentous weight. Few such worries for young Japanese pianist Hiromi, who brings largely fresh approaches to such evergreens as ‘Softly, As In A Morning Sunrise’, ‘Caravan’, and even ‘I’ve Got Rhythm’. Not unlike latter day Chick Corea, she abounds colour and energy and avoids sounding musically moribund. David Fiuczynski shares the solos, and although he’s the kind of testosterone oozing axe-man I normally avoid, his vulgarity is a strangely pleasant foil for Hiromi. Sonicbloom – how apt!

PAUL WHITEMAN King of Jazz 1920-27 (Timeless Historical CBC 1-093)

It’s sadly ironic that one of the earliest popularisers of ‘jazz’ in the United States should be a white man called Whiteman, who rarely played with anything more than a jazz veneer. The ‘King of Jazz’ certainly embodied the complex racial politics of the ‘Jazz Age’, and this selection offers a useful taster of his work. Musically credible enough for ‘long-hair’ collaborations with George Gershwin (Whiteman actually played at the premiere of Rhapsody In Blue in 1924), it’s also true that numerous famous employees, from Bix Beiderbecke to Jack Teagarden, were stifled by the syrupy dance-band-cum-tea-room arrangements heard here. Bouquets to Timeless though for such a well presented survey of music with massive historical significance.

LESTER YOUNG Jazz Giants ’56 (Lonehill Jazz 10330)

I already own a Verve release of this late Prez monument, but now courtesy of controversial label Lonehill Jazz it resurfaces with similar artwork and extra material. The label may at other times have taken advantage of Andorra’s relatively lax 25-year copyright protection loophole, but this music falls outside of the more general 50-year period in any event. Coming from Young’s last great flush of creativity, there is something especially moving about the brittleness of his sound on the ballads. Although much of the emphatic authority is gone, it’s great to hear him front a hard blowing septet that includes Roy Eldridge, Vic Dickenson, Teddy Wilson and Jo Jones. The extra material is the sprawling 27 minute ‘Funky Blues No. 2’ from a 1954 Norman Granz Jam Session. The group features Eldridge alongside precocious young admirer Dizzy Gillespie, but strangely not Prez.

Fred Grand

Up In NEON...

2011-05-02T13:56:00.001+01:00

It was good to get out for some more top quality live jazz last Thursday night. This time it was Stan Sulzmann's NEON, a truly co-operative quartet (sans contrebasse) with acres of space for these supremely gifted players to weave their own webs. Almost co-led by vibes-man Jim Hart, at least in terms of its public face, the presence of Tim Giles and Kit Downes is also crucial in shaping the music's sometimes crab-like motions. Internal duos and trios hung mobile-like within tight, overarching structures. The group's improvisations were never predictable and always supportive of the overall objectives of each piece. Never cliched or trite, new life was even breathed into Monk's 'Bye-Ya', a piece which has be played so many times over the years (in a generally linear way).

Pity my short interview/profile of Stan & NEON didn't make it in time for the latest Jazz Journal, but if it's in the next edition then the chances are they'll still be on their protracted and episodic mini tour. Like many others, I'm enjoying the continuing rise of EDITION RECORDS, and readers of Jazz Journal will know that the latest Phronesis disc was my pick of the year. I've also recently given good write-ups to Neon's Catch Me and the new Marius Neset, and I'd love to do something more on Dave Stapelton's outfit in the near future.

An unfortunate quirk of timing - read on - means that a London trip clashes with the Edition Records showcase at this year's Manchester Jazz Festival. Buoyed by the highly enjoyable back-to-back gigs of last week, I rashly took the plunge and spent a small fortune on a couple of tickets for Keith Jarrett's London show in July. It's still a massive wrong/regret that to this point I've never seen Jarrett perform live, and I'm really quite glad to be putting that little niggle to bed. With Peacock and De Johnette the improvisations should reach rarefied levels, and there's always the potential for an artistic tantrum if anybody dares to cough, or even breathe. Hopefully Louise's sore throat will have cleared by then.

I'll sign off with another review from the archives...

The Moutin Reunion Quartet

Sharp Turns

Nocturne/Blujazz (NTCD 4501)

The Speech; Kuki’s Dance; Trane’s Medley; A Good Move; Time Apart; Two Hits on the N.J.T.P.; A Blue Dream; Sharp Turns.

Bonus DVD: Take It Easy; Echoing; Bird’s Medley; Surrendering; Something Like Now.

Rick Margitza (ts); Pierre de Bethmann (p, elp); Francois Moutin (b); Louis Moutin (d).

Recorded March 2007 NYC and DVD shot live in Chicago, January 2007.

Despite their relatively tender years, Parisian twins Francois and Louis Moutin have both done the rounds in jazz, playing with an illustrious roll-call of regional and international figures, from John Abercrombie to Albert Mangelsdorff. Because they’ve been in such heavy demand their paths haven’t always crossed, and this quartet, founded in 1998, was their very own musical ‘re-union’.

The group’s aim is to unite many aspects of jazz’s past with the present, and both ex-Miles Davis sideman Rick Margitza and pianist Pierrre de Bethmann have been present from the start. Although playing mainly original compositions, the tunes nevertheless fall into a fairly generic space somewhere between Atlantic and Impulse! period Coltrane. Everybody from Branford Marsalis to Tommy Smith has explored this sound over the years, and the best exponents always bring personal touches and embellishments to stand them apart from the crowd. The Moutins choose tightly-drilled fusion unisons and locked-groove vamps as their signature, and Margitza’s affinity for Coltrane via Brecker is perfect here, heard to great effect on standout tracks ‘Kuki’s Dance’ or ‘A Good Move’.

Unadulterated acoustic jazz predominates, and sometimes only the subtlest of tweaks, such as the wordless vocals in the fadeout of ‘The Speech’, offer clues to the brothers’ back-to-the-future intent. Pieces such as ‘Trane’s Medley’, a meticulously arranged walk through a selection of the master’s better-known pieces featuring just Francois and Louis, offer not a trace of ‘cross-over’. ‘Time Apart’ is a ballad framing a beautifully virtuosic bass solo from Francois, and Margitza plays an unaccompanied coda that is either breathtaking or a student’s étude, depending on your standpoint. The electric piano on ‘Two Hits’ is a less subtle gesture towards a younger jazz constituency, but unlike Sleepwalker, a Japanese group who strip down and reformat the same era with more heart-on-the-sleeves, the Moutins occupy a curious limbo. Great virtuosity abounds, but sometimes the music sounds so airbrushed that barely a figurative hair is allowed to fall out of place.

Ultimately Sharp Turns has the potential to unite several generations of listener. My copy was a special limited edition dual format CD/DVD. Concert footage shot in Chicago prior to the recording of the album shows that in a live context this band really do let their hair down. Although the main album is solid enough and won’t disappoint, it adds little to the previous three. Ultimately I found the concert footage far more engaging, and fans should act quickly and get it while they can.

Fred Grand

Round-up...

2011-04-28T09:51:00.009+01:00

Far longer between posts than even I'd have liked, but this blog isn't about to be declared dead. Far from it, recent projects have confirmed just how much I enjoy writing about jazz. If time permitted there'd be far more, but with a hectic day job and an onerous college course (work-related) my free time ain't what it used to be.

So, what are those recent projects which have re-kindled my enthusiasm for writing? It's simply a case of stepping up to do more features and interviews on top of my allocation of review discs, and no more than that.

The next edition should have a short interview/feature that I recently completed with Stan Sulzmann on the subject of his new 'Neon Quartet' (with rising star Kit Downes). Then there was this year's Gateshead International Jazz Festival, which I covered once again - Louise loved Debbie Harry, but it was Stian Westerhus, Eivind Aarset (with Food) and Mike Stern who really grabbed me. Joe Lovano with his new 'Us 5' group was fine, but I missed half of his show as I had to nip backstage to interview a hyper-animated Mike Stern. In a little over 10 minutes he fired me up with his infectious appetite for music, and surprised me with his genuine love of be-bop. The interview is now written up as a 2000 word feature and should hopefully make it into Jazz Journal in the coming months.

All in all it has been a good 2011 for jazz so far. The new Matthias Eick disc on ECM is easily the best thing I've heard, but Brad Mehldau's new 'Marciac' set is also quite stunning. Vijay Iyer's latest Indo-Jazz fusion, Marius Neset's wonderful 'Golden Xplosion' and Erik Truffaz's 'Istanbul Sessions' all stand out from the crowd too. In terms of live music, other than the festival there has only really been Larry Coryell (with his Mumbai Jazz project) and Kyle Eastwood at the Sage a couple of nights ago that we've turned out for so far this year.

Good to see Paul Bream surviving the national austerity by securing more Arts Council grant for his 'On The Outside' series. Apart from Michael Wollny later this year, and possibly Charles Gayle/Han Bennink and Mats Gustaffson's 'The Thing', there's not really a lot there to get my pulse racing though. In fact, seeing the Glasgow Improviser's Orchestra with guests Lol Coxhill and Evan Parker at this year's Gateshead Festival was probably the low point of the year. Even with elements of conducted improvisation, the language was as tired and predictable as ever. Evan Parker will always be an honourable exception, a link to the music's early '70s Golden Age, but for the majority of performers in this increasingly stilted idiom there's little excuse. Those who still consider this music to be avant-garde really need to reset their antennae, but I suspect that for many the music's process has its-self become a sacrosanct article of faith.

On that note, I'll leave you with a review of an old CD by Ted Nash, in which I suffer the ultimate public humiliation of praising Wynton Marsalis...

TED NASH

Still Evolved

PALMETTO RECORDS (PM 2092)

The Shooting Star; Jump Start; Still Evolved; The Competitor; Bells of Brescia; Point of Arrival; Ida’s Spoons; Rubber Soul.

Wynton Marsalis (t); Marcus Printup (t); Ted Nash (ts); Frank Kimbrough (p); Ben Allison (b); Matt Wilson (d). Recorded 8/02.

Known principally for work with both Ben Allison’s Herbie Nichols Project and Jazz Composer’s Collective, and no stranger to reed section duties with the Lincoln Centre Jazz Orchestra, saxophonist and composer Ted Nash now steps out as leader of his own post-bop quintet. There are many remarkable things about this record. but for Nash to have coaxed the unfeasibly pious Wynton Marsalis down from his ivory tower to play as a sideman with such fire and creativity is little short of sensational. In an attractive, varied and frequently infectious set of compositions that linger in the mind, this is contemporary jazz of rare and genuine distinction.

Marsalis shares the trumpet chair with the equally impressive Marcus Printup, and the contrast between the two is interesting to observe. Printup plays more comfortably in the blues idiom and the material he’s given seems to acknowledge that. Nash’s own style is relatively unflamboyant, a dark sinewy improviser who prefers to stay inside the changes. It is actually Marsalis who takes most of the risks - his growls and upper register exclamations on ‘The Shooting Star’ sounding almost avant-garde (albeit if only in the same manner as Freddie Hubbard’s most outward bound moments from the ‘60s). The title track is the type of relaxed retro-swinger that could just as easily have been performed by The Vandermark 5 as a dedication to Shelly Manne. ‘The Bells of Brescia’ gives Marsalis a chance to re-examine Miles’ way with a ballad, and he plays beautifully. Matt Wilson consolidates his burgeoning reputation with a probing presence throughout, whilst both Allison and Kimbrough demonstrate the virtue of familiarity gained as regular working partners.

Nowhere is the band’s togetherness better felt than on ‘Rubber Soul’, where the collective delight at an in-the-pocket performance is preserved for posterity as the tapes are allowed to roll. Still Evolved looks both backwards and forwards equally convincingly and is unreservedly recommended.

Fred Grand

(Jazz Review, July 2003)

Winter Wonderment-land...

2011-01-05T19:26:00.003Z

A belated Happy New Year to friends and readers, and at last time for me to catch up with Afric Pepperbird once again.

A bit too late to review of our trip to the London Jazz Festival in November, but just to say it was great - so much music packed into barely three days. Manu Katché, Stefano Di Battista, Eric Legnini (twice), Denis Colin's Societé Des Arpenteurs, Hadouk Trio, Brad Mehldau's 'Highway Rider' (with Joshua Redman and the Britten Sinfonia), and even Robert Glasper playing with a local youth band in the Barbican foyer as we sat around waiting for a tube to Kings Cross.

Katché played such a brilliantly relaxed set that it was an object lesson in how it should be done, whilst the Mehldau performance was very special (not least because of the vast scale of the work). Really enjoyed the French showcase at the Barbican on the Saturday afternoon. After being sent into the best possible kind of trance by Didier Malherbe's Hadouk Trio, a really tight visceral set by Denis Colin's band (pronounced Den-nee Co-lan, though not by the English M.C.) offered proof that there're more first-rank bass clarinet players in France than just Michel Portal and Louis Sclavis.

Having now finished the latest batch of reviews for the magazine, including a couple of ECMs (Giya Kancheli and Stephan Micus), the new Eric Harland and Stan Sulzmann's latest edition of the Neon Quartet, I'm sitting back listening to Mosaic's Larry Young set (wow). Hoping to do a small feature on Neon for the magazine soon, and it has to be said that Kit Downes and Jim Hart deserve their equal billing. They elevate the disc from what may have been just another Sulzmann set into something fresh and vital. My next batch includes Erik Truffaz's Istanbul excursion, a new disc by Danish saxophonist Marius Neset (with Jasper Høiby on bass), and two more that I've already managed to forget.

For now I'll simply leave you with a link to a few snaps taken on my new iPhone 4, which I finally succumbed to buying. Bought principally for its camera, I haven't been disappointed and it's great to have it in the pocket to capture those unexpected sights whenever I'm out and about. Not exactly the 'Leica' that Steve Jobs claimed it to be, but I've already got a Leica and it does a decent job nevertheless.

Good news that Mike Stern has replaced Kurt Elling in the double bill with Joe Lovano at this year's Gateshead International Jazz Festival. Louise is excited about Debbie Harry, of course, but I must say that Stern has started off a train of feverish anticipation in me...

Fred Grand

Kenny Wheeler at 80...

2010-10-31T14:52:00.012Z

How can it be that one of the defining voices in European contemporary jazz is now an octogenarian? As he hobbled onto the stage of a sparsely packed Hall One at The Sage last Wednesday night, supported by a natty black walking stick and the helping arms of John Taylor, you'd no longer put money on Kenny Wheeler if he ever needed to catch a bus in a hurry. I'm certainly not naive enough to assume that the musicians I love and admire are blessed with Peter Pan's DNA, but the spectacle came to me as something of a shock. The last time I saw Wheeler lead a big band, around twenty years ago on the CMN Music For Large & Small Ensembles tour, most of these guys looked like they were in their prime. Not exactly ravaged by time, the effects of a couple of decades of ageing give certain sobering perspective on your own place in the world.

Even if Wheeler hadn't fluffed most of his notes on the opening theme, I'd have been feeling more than a little melancholy. As the night wore on it became easier to accept the flugelist's limitations as a player. He warmed up, and he sensibly stuck to the lower end of the horn for much of the time. Despite the shorter solos and distinct lack of the trademark stratospheric interval leaps, his sound remains unmistakeable and his writing never less than glorious.

Inevitably, with some of the lustre removed from his soloing, it was his compositions that were the real stars of the show. Old pieces such as 'Mark Time', 'Double, Double You' and 'Old Ballad' rubbed shoulders with instant classics written specially for the tour. Despite ample outwards evidence of Wheeler's waning physical capabilities, there's no doubting his mental acuity. Even if he hung up his horn tomorrow, I'm sure he'd have many telling contributions to make as a writer in the years ahead.

Wheeler's band was packed with familiar faces - Evan Parker, Henry Lowther, Ray Warleigh, Duncan Lamont, Julian Argüelles, Chris Laurence, Stan Sulzmann et al - but it was John Taylor who was the standout soloist of the night. Sounding more highly charged than he has at any time I've heard him since the '70s, the pianist more than made up for vocalist Diana Torto's over-exposure. Superficially similar in style to Norma Winstone, she clearly doesn't live and succeed by the same exquisite judgement and 'less is more' credo. This may come to Torto later, and despite my comments she certainly has an extraordinary range.

Whatever sadness I may have felt about the diminution of Wheeler's powers and the tangible passing of decades, I instantly feel better when I compare his highly personal and original music to that found on the CD reviewed below...

OSIAN ROBERTS & STEVE FISHWICK QUINTET

On The Up And Up

HARD BOP RECORDS (HBR 33003)

The Hit; I Loves You Porgy; Hand Grenade; A Pocketful of Grease; The Road To Philly; Now That I Am So In Love; The Knife; Swanee River.

Steve Fishwick (t/flh); Osian Roberts (ts); Olivier Slama (p); Dave Chamberlain (b); Matt Fishwick (d); Matt Home (d on 2,4,6,7).

There is something a little discomforting about this record. Recorded in Pontypridd in 2006, it sounds for all the world like the first edition of The Jazz Messengers at the time of their now legendary 1955 engagement a the Café Bohemia. Just as there’ll always be Civil War re-enactment groups, it shouldn’t really be too surprising to find jazz’s rich traditions receiving similar attention. Hearing relatively young men tackling pre-modal fare seems a little unusual in today’s world, and the degree of replication found here is quite phenomenal.

Opening the disc we have ‘The Hit’, and with very few leaps of the imagination we could be listening to the soundtrack to an action sequence in a mid ‘50s film noir. I’m always partial to a bit of that, and as an opening statement it leaves no doubt that Fishwick and Roberts have this era nailed. ‘A Pocketful of Grease’ is tight funky ¾ blues, Fishwick giving a sizeable nod in his solo to Donald Byrd. His flugelhorn feature on Gershwin’s ‘Porgy’ shows great maturity and poise, whilst co-leader Roberts’ ‘The Road To Philly’ makes a sturdy vehicle for some elegant Mobley-esque tenor. Pianist Slama shows his appreciation of period chord voicings on a trio take of Harold Ouseley’s rarely played ‘Now That I Am So In Love’, whilst ‘The Knife’ is a dedication to Pepper Adams, another genre-based ‘original’ which openly references its source.

I’m not sure how many would guess the decade in which this disc was recorded in a blindfold test, so fastidious is the group’s approach. The graphic design on the ‘artwork’ may be a mite too faux, but sound engineer Daniel Edwards can take lots of credit for his authentic sound recording techniques. Avoiding the dramatic studio separation of instruments, a vintage character is particularly noticeable in the ensemble passages. In summary then, whilst the much loved originals in my collection from Messrs. Dorham, Mobley and Silver & Co. are in no way improved here, it would be quite a different proposition to catch Fishwick and Roberts belting this stuff out live. The Valleys are alive, with the sound of hard bop anthems!

Fred Grand (originally published in Jazz Review)

Scott Colley...

2010-10-19T18:55:00.003+01:00

Long time since I blogged, but very little to report recently. Just finished a stack of reviews, including William Parker's new Curtis Mayfield compilation on AUM Fidelity, the new Mike Formanek (ECM), Bill Frisell's Savoy Jazz debut, Christian Muthspiel's surprisingly successful Yodel project, and best of all the new disc by Scott Colley (which has prompted this post).

Along with the new one by Phronesis (which I was also fortunate enough to review), the disc is definitely a contender for jazz CD of the year. Heavily featuring Bill Frisell, who heads straight back to his ECM years for inspiration and is in magnificent form, none of the slight reservations I had about Architect of the Silent Moment apply. In liberating himself from the interesting-but-done-to-death late '60s Miles sound, Colley has come into his own as a force.

Not much live jazz to get excited about round here, although I did miss the Mujician/Aki Takase double bill in Gateshead last week. Missing Eugene Chadbourne caused less anxiety, but I'll probably check out Kenny Wheeler's 80th Birthday tour next week as I have fond memories of seeing the Music For Large & Small Ensemble's CMN tour in the late '80s.

We really enjoyed the 'Way To Blue' Nick Drake tribute at The Sage last Sunday, and I suppose Danny Thompson and Zoe Rahman added some jazz cred (if that's important). With a well balanced cast of singers ranging from too quiet (Vashti Bunyan) to too loud (Krystle Warren), the middle ground was safely held by Green Gartside, Robyn Hitchcock, Scott Matthews and Teddy Thompson, who consistently struck the right notes. With some of the most beautiful songs ever written at their disposal, this show was a real treat. Having a full string section playing the original arrangements certainly helped, and we have a clear contender for gig of the year.

With the new David Sylvian disc as my listening of choice at the moment, I think you can safely say I'm sympathetically disposed to this sort of thing right now. Here's a thought to close with - is David Sylvian now the only acceptable face of UK improv?

SCOTT COLLEY

Architect Of The Silent Moment

CAMJAZZ 7793-2

Usual Illusion; Strip Mall Ballet; El Otro; Architect Of The Silent Moment; Masoosong; Feign Tonal; From Within; Smoke Stack; Window Of Time.

Ralph Alessi (t); Craig Taborn (ky); Scott Colley (b); Antonio Sanchez (d).

Guest appearances by Dave Binney (ss); Jason Moran (p); Gregoire Maret (hca); Adam Rogers (g).

Recorded December 2005.

Scott Colley is a busy man. Notable associations include Herbie Hancock, Jim Hall and the late great Andrew Hill. Rather less frequently than providing the backbone to a host of top-flight groups, he steps out as a leader. As you’d expect, it is at the helm of his own vessel that his musical bent can best be gauged, and quite an expansive bent it is too. Complex and contemporary, structured but loose, appreciative of the past but always open to influences from other genres.

The core group is the quartet featuring Alessi and Taborn, though guests appear at choice moments to expand the music’s palette. Colley’s choice to open out into an electro-acoustic world is certainly voguish, though it has to be said that Taborn’s superb Thirsty Ear projects take the aesthetic a lot further. Save for the free passage in ‘Feign Tonal’ and the percussive rubato of ‘El Otro’, this is recognisably music from the tradition. Colley is nevertheless an astute musical Janus, his group sound spanning late ‘60s Miles (on the cusp of going electric), and looking as far ahead as M-Base for its off-centre rhythmic schemata. The opening ‘Usual Illusion’ introduces the quartet and foreshadows a lot of the tumultuous music that follows. Alessi’s fiery trumpet shimmers above Taborn’s fractured electronic textures, Colley’s forceful lines bringing direction while Sanchez’s busy percussion often skirts tastelessness but keeps things edgy. Next we get a walk on from extraordinary harmonica virtuoso Gregoire Maret. The delightfully titled ‘Strip Mall Ballet’ sees his oblique and fleet phrasing making a mockery of an instrument not normally noted for its improvisational agility. Maret’s contribution to the spacious ‘Masoosong’ provides a welcome break to Sanchez’ pummelling attack on the title-piece and is certainly the disc’s melodic high spot. Binney plays some slick modal soprano on ‘From Within’, while Jason Moran steps forward to accompany Taborn for a fascinating intro to Andrew Hill’s ‘Smokestack’.

The clash of acoustic and electronic keyboards casts the music in a new light, one that Moran’s recently departed mentor would probably have appreciated. All of the remaining compositions are Colley’s, and though not as accomplished a writer as exceptional bassist/bandleader Dave Holland, his music goes well beyond the utilitarian. The closing ‘Window Of Time’ deserves a special mention - its open-ended form, rhythmic displacement, and echoes of Americana providing an intriguing closure, as well as hinting that Colley has a lot more music inside him for the future.

Fred Grand

33 Recent Photographs...

2010-08-25T21:53:00.008+01:00

Just a few recent photos, both high and low res, to show that my blog and (therefore) I are still in business.

Seems to be something of a coastal theme going on, and we were very lucky to be in Whitley Bay at the same time as a beautifully leaden sky. Thanks for that must go to Louise's Dad, who we were keeping amused for the day. Why else would we be in Whitley Bay?

Must make the effort to take more photographs, and perhaps when I get my iPhone 4 (I'm warming to the idea, but only because of its impressive camera) I'll be posting more regular photo-journals...

Tommy Smith Interview...

2010-08-06T18:56:00.009+01:00

As the title of this post suggests, my recent Tommy Smith interview is the subject that has prompted me to write again. Of course you're not going to find it reproduced here, but it's now the cover feature of the latest edition of Jazz Journal, and quite a proud moment for me too.

To read the thing in its entirety you'll need to buy the magazine, and that won't necessarily be easy given that it's about as easy to find in the shops as a first edition Shakespeare folio. Worth a try though, and if you get stuck there's always a chance it'll get reproduced on Tommy's website. If not, I'm sure it'll appear here one day, after a respectful interval.

Not much else to mention by way of news, but worth mentioning our recent trip to Manchester to be part of the audience for the live broadcast of Jazz On 3 (or is it 'Jez On 3'?). The Beeb obliged with free tickets after I entered our names in the pre-concert ballot. Thoroughly surprised to have been selected, we were left to hastily arrange transport and accommodation. It may be many years before I enter, let alone win, another competition, so it would have been foolish to look this gift horse in the mouth.

Excellent music from a packed Band On The Wall, starting with the great Arun Ghosh quintet (with Idris Rahman and Corey Mwamba), moving on to a solo guitar and electroncis piece from the Cinematic Orchestra's Stuart McCallum (another Mac user!), and finally in the early hours of the morning a riveting set by a trans-Atlantic quartet featuring Gwilym Simcock, Mike Walker, Steve Swallow and Adam Nussbaum.

It really was live, no delays, and everything sent straight to air just as it happened. The late start allowed time for dinner on Rusholme's legendary 'Curry Mile', and the following day we had lots of time for browsing around this surprising city. Louise picked up a neat little illuminated toadstool at a fascinating emporium of kitsch called Oklahoma, and I managed to avoid the temptation of an iPhone 4 at the Apple Store. Still haven't made the leap, and at the moment see no reason.

Shame we had to miss the tribute concert to Chris Yates happening in Newcastle at the same time, but I'm sure that Chris would have felt the same way as I do about memorials and tributes. Glad to read that it went well and raised cash for some well-chosen charities, but if there had to be a memorial then I'd say that Sonny Rollins dedicating his upcoming show at The Barbican would be a more fitting epitaph than Alan Barnes at The Corner House, but I suppose you've 'gotta keep it real" (and The Corner House, Chris and Alan Barnes have a long intertwined history).

Back full-circle, Tommy Smith dedicated his show at this year's Gateshead International Jazz Festival to Chris, and that very afternoon we exchanged some warm recollections of the man. That's the way it should be...

Kenny Garrett...

2010-07-03T10:24:00.005+01:00

Time for another review, this one picked from the last days of Jazz Review, the magazine established by the late Richard Cook (of Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD fame). In many ways a difficult piece to write because I wanted to be unequivocally positive about one of the most distinctive saxophonists of his generation. The disc was frankly a bit of a let down though, and honesty is always the best policy. If something doesn't work (even on its own pretty limited terms) then potential buyers need to know. One of the great things about digital music consumption via outlets such as iTunes is that you're no longer obliged to buy albums in their entirety, if some of the tracks are weak enough to receive a critical health warning.

Not a lot of live jazz to get excited about locally at the moment, despite two festivals within a 10 mile radius over the next week or so. Good to catch Jerry Douglas last Wednesday (playing with Elvis Costello), and Douglas could hold his own in any musical company, as he's proven more than once in collaborations with Bill Frisell. A more satisfying gig however was the one by Suzanne Vega, whose stripped down band (also with a guitarist named J/Gerry - Gerry Leonard) were simply perfect. Vega had a Blue Note contract for a short time at the turn of the noughties, and there's a depth to her writing and sincerity in her delivery that speaks of gritty authenticity. Not somebody I'd ever previously given much time or thought to, I approached the gig with an open mind and was rewarded. Bonus marks to Louise for suggesting this gig!

The Tommy Smith interview is wrapped up now and should be published soon, and with no CDs in the house to review at the moment I can simply listen for pleasure. Unless, of course, I get distracted by the Tour de France...

KENNY GARRETT

Sketches of MD: Live At The Iridium

MACK AVENUE (MAC 1042)

The Ring; Intro to Africa; Sketches of MD; Wayne’s Thang; Happy People

Kenny Garrett (as/bcl/keys); Pharaoh Sanders (ts/voc); Benito Gonzalez (p/keys); Nat Reeves (b); Jamire Williams (d). No recording date.

Garrett’s collaboration with Pharoah Sanders, which began so promisingly on last year’s Beyond The Wall (Nonesuch), continues on this live set from New York’s Iridium club. Although clearly pitched as a homage to Miles, both ‘The Ring’ and ‘Intro to Africa’ offer the unmistakeably brooding and modal feel of the classic Coltrane Quartet of the mid ‘60s. Both saxophonists play with a searing intensity, Garrett actually out screaming Sanders on the opener. Harmonic parameters always remain clear though, Gonzalez’ forceful chordal vamps gnawingly insistent as the horns sail majestically overhead. For almost 25 minutes Garrett seems to be on top of his game, but it all starts to fragment spectacularly after the title-track. Spacey Fender Rhodes and Maupin-esque bass clarinet colourings first herald an unexpected but not entirely unpleasant change of course.

What follows is less endearing, and the musical dichotomy couldn’t be starker. Over 20 minutes of puerile locked-groove funk, wispy synth-washes, tastelessly deployed wah-wah saxophone and nauseating happy-clappy audience participation reveals an artist in the throes of creative schizophrenia. Garrett was of course present throughout most of Miles’ latter years as a recording artist, and the pursuit of pop aesthetics was never far down their gold laméd agendas. I’m generally sympathetic to the saxophonist, but the effects of this musical mix and match are not unlike jumping into cold water after a roasting steam bath. Although I’d have no hesitation in recommending at least half of this disc, it falls some way short as a package. One to hunt out online and download in part, if you’ve already made the leap to virtual media consumption.

Fred Grand

Beuys will be Beuys...

2010-06-19T19:37:00.001+01:00

Fresh from a trip to London, here's a few low-res images taken on the iPhone which partly encapsulate the break. It was great to see one of my favourite pieces of art at Tate Modern (Joseph Beuys's 'The Flock After The Pack'), one which I wondered if I'd ever see...

We also caught some cracking contemporary jazz at Ronnie Scott's from Kyle Eastwood's tight 'Metropolitain' band, had a memorable curry at Aladin's on Brick Lane, made good use of the iPad, did a modest amount of shopping at budget outlets including Skandium and Fortnum & Mason, and walked ourselves into the ground.

While Louise was at the conference which provided the pretext for the whole trip I was pleased to catch up with my buddy Gregg Brennan, the now ex-Toronto based drummer/bandleader who has set down roots in London to get closer to the European music that inspires us both. The hours flew past, and hopefully it won't be long before he's got a band together to play his own stuff.

At the moment I'm putting the finishing touches to the interview I did with Tommy Smith last March, but as soon as I get that out of the way I'll make a concerted effort to do some more blogging and to get some old reviews posted. Not much live jazz coming up (I'm NOT going to hear Wynton Marsalis), but I'll be a happy spectator at a couple of gigs Louise has singled out - Suzanne Vega, then Elvis Costello's latest Americana inspired group (which should include the great Jerry Douglas)...

Fred Grand

Jan Kopinski's 'Mirrors' @ The Sage...

2010-06-07T18:15:00.002+01:00

Anybody remember Pinski Zoo, that British harmolodic funk unit which enjoyed moderate to fair success in the '80s and '90s? Although the '80s revival is pretty much everywhere at present, the re-entry of tenor saxophonist Jan Kopinski into my world was prompted by something altogether different. Performing a suite-like piece called 'Mirrors' at The Sage's Hall 2 last Saturday, the event formed part of a wider series of Polish jazz, and indeed performing art, marketed as POLSKA YEAR!

Of course Pinski Zoo are still around and occasionally reform, but opportunities to hear this slightly maverick original are all too scarce. The last time I saw him in fact was with what was then a new post-Zoo band known as 'Ghost Music', and that was so long ago that I can't even hazard a guess as to when it was. This particular series of three gigs opened with that well-known Pole Nigel Kennedy, and concludes on Wednesday with a return visit by Marcin Wasilewski's brilliant trio. I missed Kennedy and his acclaimed Polish group and will also sadly miss Wasilewski due to another comittment, but I was more than happy to renew acquaintances with this talented post-Coltrane man. A multi-media event, the gig also revealed several impressive and undersung dimensions to his art. Relying heavily on structured composition and tonal arrangement, this was certainly no free-funk burnout.

Performing beneath a large rear-projection screen, the images and music were complimentary without being over-powering. Kopinski's Reflektor project also sets music to moving images, but this project was something far more personal. Film footage sourced from several of the saxophonist's trips to Poland (dating back to the '70s) was carefully spliced and looped by Jim Boxall. Making an evocative backdrop for the loosely suite-like piece which Kopinski had titled as 'Mirrors', the work succeeded in its intended aim of portraying an intended evocative almost dream-like inner journey. It was hard not to feel the oppression of the communist era, and very noticeable how covert the footage of those years looked. Religious iconography seemed to be placed in opposition and suggested some brighter form of hope, but the over-riding impressions I took away from Kopinski's voyage were those of displacement and loss.

Joined by long-time collaborator (and Pinski Zoo member) Steve Iliffe on piano, his allotted role was pretty much that of accompanist. Setting the tone and building tension with repetitive vamps and slightly jarring Tyner-ish ostinatos, from the very outset the group's music more akin to control and discipline of the ECM school than the riotous Prime Time inspired antics of Pinski Zoo. Texture and timbre were all important here, and Kopinski's deployment of voice (Aniko Toth) and viola (Janina Kopinska) gave a suitably chamber-ish aspect to large sections of the work. Son Stefan played electric bass, and the hyper-kinetic Patrick Illingworth's drumming brought us closest to the dense laminal of Pinski Zoo. Sombre meditations on painful tragedies, a joyous (and Ornette-like) excursion into its folk music, menacing evocations of its political and religious turmoils (set to a backdrop of powerful iconography) and several apparently random but somehow symbolic vignettes all made for an engaging programme.

The music of 'Mirrors' placed Kopinski closer to the mainstream of contemporary European jazz than I've heard him at any time before. Highly impressionistic and with strong narrative and pastoral streaks, the biggest measure of tis success was the ease with which it imparted at times complex emotional content. Closing with a long claustrophobic piece which he called 'Corn Field', the disappointingly small crowd didn't clamour for an encore. The package deserves far wider exposure than I fear it will receive, and top marks to The Sage for picking it up...

(Fred Grand)

Gateshead International Jazz Festival...

2010-03-31T16:28:00.017+01:00

I can't really write too much about last weekend's Jazz Festival at The Sage because I'm going to be reviewing it for Jazz Journal, but that shouldn't stop me from at least giving you a little flavour of the event.

Jerry Dammers' Sun Ra and Alice Coltrane homage was no more and no less than great fun, evoking the spirit of their music without in any way taking a curate's view. The theatricality (where else would you see Roger Beaujolais dressed up as a Sphinx?), the trance-like grooves, the loose-ness of the ensemble playing, the humour and the quality of the soloists in the band (when they got a chance to let rip) was mightily impressive. It also turned out that Louise went to the same college in Durham University and at exactly the same time as flautist Finn Peters, though I doubt she'd have recognised him beneath that mask if she hadn't spotted his idiosyncratic posture first!

I gave Hession-Wilkinson-Fell a miss, still haunted by the time I promoted a gig of theirs at the Live Theatre and pulled an audience of under 15 people (as well as being more than a wee bit disinclined for a bruising head pummelling). As a bit of a bonus though I'll reprint a related review below.

I wasn't too disappointed that Dammers clashed with what was probably another predictable show by the great Stan Tracey either, but after a performance so complete in itself who needs more?

Dan Berglund was a little confused on the Saturday afternoon, thanking the audience more than once for 'coming out to see us tonight'. Purists would say he was confused about the identity of his music too, but just as I loved his new CD (my review in this month's JJ, buy it if you can find it) for its openness to a whole host of genres beyond jazz when I heard it, I was impressed by the gig. Abdullah Ibrahim's reformed Ekaya did his beautiful music full justice, with the delicate horn arrangements 'just so'. The pianist took a back seat for much of the show, choosing his notes as if his life depended on it. Straight afterwards the energy levels rose somewhat, with the most spirited performance of the weekend coming from Arun Ghosh's band (with Idris Rahman on tenor sax). Their burning modal improvisations were full of Eastern tinges, a marriage made in heaven.

Sunday started with me going backstage for an hour long interview with Tommy Smith (lots of great material to transcribe and write up), and then it was into the Jazz Lounge where we stretched out in comfort to listen to some stimulating music by three bands from London's Loop Collective - Gemini, The Golden Age of Steam and Phronesis. Great to hear talented young players doing all original material without boundaries. Phronesis were the pick of the bunch, but in a different mood it could have been any of the three groups.

After a trip over to the Quayside for some Italian food (served and eaten in record time) it was back to hear the evening performance from Tommy Smith and the SNJO. 'Rhapsody in Blue' and a tribute to Buddy Rich comprised the evening's repertoire, and they're a well drilled unit playing to a very high standard. Tommy was in fine form on a couple of lengthy tenor solos, and Paul Towndrow and Ryan Quigley made up the best of the rest. Tommy dedicated the set to Chris Yates, and I've no doubt Chris would have approved of the swinging straight-ahead fare.

I've probably already written more than the 500 words I've been allocated for the article by the editor, and I'll have to make sure that the finished piece bears no resemblance to this preamble.

Now for that special bonus, if that's not over stating things too much. Here's a review of a Brötzmann disc, originally published in Jazz Review. It is probably the only time I've ever been in the audience at a gig that was later released as a commercial recording, and quite a night too...

(Photography Credit: Copyright Mark Savage)

Peter Brötzmann/Alan Wilkinson Quartet
One Night In Burmantofts
Bo’Weavil Recordings (Weavil 27CD)

a: Greetings Herr B and Herr K; b: Cormorant Number 2; Bird Flew; All Back To Paul’s

Peter Brötzmann (ts/cl/tarrogato); Alan Wilkinson (as/bs); Simon H Fell (b); Wlili Kellers (d).
Recorded Leeds Irish Club, November 1996.

Burmantofts is the name of a district in Leeds, once the home of a famous manufacturer of ceramic pipes and construction materials who adopted its name. Known also at various times as The Leeds Fireclay Company, the business no longer trades. Both Wilkinson and Fell have strong historical ties to Leeds, and Hession/Wilkinson/Fell are probably the UK’s foremost high energy free-jazz group. Over the years I’ve seen them working in the city with many distinguished guests, and it’s quite serendipitous that I now get to review this CD, over a decade after I was there in the audience.

Not surprisingly, musical sparks fly in all directions from the non-ceramic pipes of both Brötzmann and Wilkinson, reaffirming my long-held view that this was one of hell of a night. Opening with Brötzmann’s trademark hog call on tenor, the band quickly dive in as both reedsmen lock horns and head for the sun. Fell is heard at his most direct, needling the music forwards, whilst my abiding memory of the gig, Kellers’ all-enveloping drumming, is beautifully captured in a pleasingly grainy mix. The drummer lays down a shimmering cymbal haze similar to Sunny Murray, but with the flick of a wrist unleashes a devastating onslaught that gives him the presence of two drummers – think of Rashid Sinan on Frank Lowe’s Black Beings.

Wilkinson’s baritone generally packs a harder punch than his shrill alto. Standing alongside a giant like Brötzmann is no place for the feint of heart, and he’s certainly man enough for the job. That said, this is far from wanton noise. Each of the four extended improvisations offers quieter nuances and lyrical beauty, sometimes close to silence. Even when the band is fully-charged they’re always playing in the same ‘zone’. The availability of five different reed instruments opens out the sound field, and Wilkinson’s baritone in its self adds a thrilling extra dimension.

Whenever I hear Brötzmann’s strangulated goose cry on tarrogato I find it hard not to tremble. With his celebrity reaching a whole new generation of listeners there’s been no shortage of new recordings of late. This one stands out from the crowd, candidly capturing him at his prime. Everything you could possibly want is here, and Kellers is the final clincher should you be wavering. Bold and bracing, the communion lasts unflaggingly through a ride that ends at ‘Paul’s Place’. The ‘Paul’ in question is presumably drummer Paul Hession, who stood aside for Kellers. Knowing Paul, he’d have been only too happy witness such glorious take-no-prisoners free jazz, even from the audience. I know that I certainly was.

Fred Grand (Jazz Review, 2008)

Nik Bärtsch and Ronin @ The Sage...

2010-03-11T19:01:00.016Z

We took advantage of an unexpectedly mild and still evening to walk across the water for some pre-concert food (using a foot bridge, not some small miracle). The brightly coloured reflections of solid blocks of light on the Tyne actually reminded me of Bärtsch's light show, and I was eager then to get inside and hear some music.

There was a slight sense of deja vu about this gig. It was barely 12 months since this exciting Swiss group last appeared on Tyneside and they're still pretty much playing the same set, which draws largely from their recent ECM release Holon. Last time they played in Hall Two on a double bill with Marcin Wasilewski, but this time they were in the more intimate Northern Rock Foundation Hall. Although not sharing the stage with Wasilewski's last night, Ros Rigby's pre-concert announcement included the well received news that those supremely talented Poles will in fact be returning to The Sage on June 9th. I like a good bit of symmetry, don't you?

I didn't expect a radical change of direction from Bärtsch, and I wasn't disappointed. There's a lot to admire in the somewhat predictable nature of Bärtsch's music, even without the proverbial 'sound of surprise'. Yes, the gig which followed was very similar to another performance still fresh in recent memory, but given the nature of Bärtsch's music I'd actually be concerned if that wasn't so. Repetition and slow evolutions that are subtle and often difficult to detect are the defining elements of this music. Many would struggle with the notion that complexity and precision should be placed on a higher pedestal than spontaneity and self expression, the eternal verities of jazz, the truly democratic music. What would the jazz police think of Bartsch? Few, if any, were in the highly appreciative audience so the question fortunately never arose.

Slowly evolving (but logically interconnected) cells are threaded through Pupato and Rast's machine-like percussion, and the bewildering complexity of the group's polyrhythms would surely need some pretty advanced music analysis software to crack the exact time signatures. The group were certainly tighter and more 'road tested' than last time, and although still very much a collaborative affair with only modest scope for individualism, I sensed a slight loosening of the reins. Björn Meyer very nearly emerged as principal soloist, his bass singing in a way that only Jaco Pastorius and a handful of disciples have ever been able to accomplish. Meyer's grin broke rank with the group's more cerebral front, the bassist pretty much assuming the role of heart of the machine.

It was gratifying to se such a good turn-out, and the Sage's smallest performance space is actually one of their best if it's an intimate club-like experience that you're after. Jazz North East are presenting Liam Noble's trio performing the music of Dave Brubeck as I sit here tonight typing these words. In many ways there's a cute symmetry there too. Brubeck built his reputation on unorthodox time signatures, and Bärtsch has pushed the limits of what is possible with a regular jazz rhythm-section to almost ludicrous extremes. Building on both the lessons of elegant minimalism and the fusion of jazz with the visceral pleasures of 'plugged in' post-rock, Bärtsch is combining choice elements of style from a diverse range of sources with the same level of craftsmanship as John Zorn.

Although there's a way to go before Bärtsch exploits his music's full potential - a few melodic hooks to soften the severity of the experience wouldn't hurt - he's nevertheless carving out a thoroughly individual niche. I'm sure that Noble is doing his best to deconstruct the past this evening, but after a night spent listening to music that boldly faces the future, I couldn't be tempted to join them. I worry that large swathes of the jazz public often appear to be several decades behind the times. Many still consider 'free jazz' (a 50 year old art form) to be something new, challenging or dangerous. The truth is that jazz's cutting edge is a far quieter place and it lies elsewhere. Ronin are situated at almost the diametric oposite of free jazz and improvised music, yet there is as much passion and soul put into their comparatively small gestures - watching this material in live performance only affirms that. Fans of both Brubeck and 'Fire Music' would probably have hated Bärtsch. We left happy.

Fred Grand

Nils Petter Molvaer @ The Sage...

2010-02-27T16:01:00.009Z

A blog with a time lag, nevertheless quite excusable in the circumstances. Although the gig in question took place last Sunday, almost a week ago, the week has been dominated by the sudden and sad demise of Smokey ('Felix'), our venerable cat. This is not the time or place for details, but I mention the event simply because it has cast such a dark shadow over the week.

The last time I saw Molvaer was on the 'Khmer' tour, playing with a large and extremely loud band at the Glasgow International Jazz Festival. That would probably make it 1997 or 1998. My good friend Andrew was with me that time, and we were both blown away the group's rock-style presence and power. Good as those memories are, the trumpeter's career has subsequently gone off the boil, a series of albums in the same vein as Khmer rarely reaching the same heights and showing little evolution or development. Last year's Hamada was definitely a return to form, it's controlled soundscapes gracefully unfolding around strong melodic threads from the East. Perhaps a sign that Molvaer has reached some sort of cross-roads, I went to this gig hopeful for another Glasgow, but in truth didn't really know what to expect.

From the outset it was clear that Sunday's gig was going to be a more stripped down affair, though no less intense (or at times claustrophobic) than that great Glasgow show. Playing in my favourite Hall 2 at the Sage, the group consisted of just three men and several Apple Macs. Anybody who knows me will be aware of my devotion to the cult of the Mac, and it's fair to say that both the venue and the hardware made me predisposed to like this show. Starting with processed trumpet and looping vocals (sung into the trumpet bell by Molvaer and passed through his trusty Mac), guitarist Stian Westerhus then crouched and produced deep glitchy bass notes by touching together the contact ends of a pair of wired leads. The effect was slightly unsettling, and somewhat add odds with Molvaer's own spiritually reaching lyricism. Drummer Audun Kleive stood patiently in the wings, the stage bathed in darkness and eyes drawn to the (again Mac generated) visual backdrop. When the drummer did eventually join the party the music immediately shifted from ethereal Hassell-ian 'Fourth World' to the dense, raw and extremely dark side of post-Agartha Miles.

Not a bad place to be, and with Westerhus refusing to play anything resembling a 'lick' it also showed in Molvaer far more avant-garde vitality than previous formulaic efforts. This concert consisted of a single piece, unfolding over 95 incident packed minutes. The visuals often responded to the pace of the music, Persian tapestries and moving grids of molten lava providing a complementary experience. For sure there were longeurs as the musicians pulled back to re-group their collective energies, and some passages undoubtedly went on in the same vein for far too long without revealing anything of any great interest.

There's a great 50-60 minute album in this material, and as it would happen, Hamada is its title. What you wouldn't get from listening to this music at home though would be the insight into the processes that lie behind it's making, Presented in person, loud and close-up with visuals and all, Molvaer's provocative and highly charged music gains an important context. Several agitated audience members seemed to leave early, perhaps disappointed not to be hearing the Nordic folk of compatriot Jan Garbarek. Another apparently fell victim to the strobe-like effects projected onto the backdrop during a particularly grungey passage.

Even for somebody like myself who has heard Hamada several times, there were many surprises here and the show was far from predictable. Westerhus's bowed guitar sounded truly cello-like (an entirely different technique to Raoul Bjorkenheim's brutalism), Kleive's machine-like rhythms hit you like a truck, and Molvaer's command of his effects rack is as much a part of his musical persona as it is with Jon Hassell. The group's forays into abstract territories are improvised music of the very best kind. Completely in the service of his lovingly nurtured sound-scapes and utterly free of self-indulgence, there was a logic running through the performance which was unmistakeable.

At one point the angle at which we sat saw Kleive apparently grow a halo from the visual backdrop, something which Louise thought was far from coincidental (given his Jesus-like features). When I told her after the gig that Kleive once played with A-ha, we were truly talking of a revelation.

This gig's depth charge-like impact makes it seem better and better as I reflect back after what has been a testing week. Top marks to Molvaer, who goes back on to my imaginary 'A' list, and with little else of this quality going on in the region at the moment it looks like a strong contender for the performance of 2010. I've been asked by the magazine to cover the Festival in March, but only Dan Berglund's Tonbruket really stands out at this stage. With an open mind and wide-open ears, I'll prepare to be surprised...

Fred Grand.

The Ex & Brass Unbound @ The Sage...

2010-02-01T08:50:00.010Z

I wasn't going to bother going to this gig. I knew a couple of albums by The Ex (the two with Tom Cora), and I hardly thought it would be the kind of gig where either Ken Vandermark or Mats Gustafsson would get much of a chance to show what they can do. Factor in my now distant relationship to the punk era, and considerations of Louise's need not to hear this kind of thing, and it looked eminently missable.

That was until a former workmate called and asked if I wanted to go (I was tempted to say former anarchist punk, a bit of an 'in' joke, particularly as he now drives a rather beautiful Audi estate car...) He's one of the few people I know who would even have heard of The Ex, and the chance for a catch-up over some music was in the end a more than sufficient lure. So. it became a quiet night-in for Louise and a noisy night out for me.

Using The Sage's Hall 2, I was surprised by the respectable turn-out for this event. Support was provided by Zun Zun Egui, whose collision of Krautrock, Afro-beat and hardcore was interesting if not compelling. After 30 minutes they'd been through their repertoire, and for the last 15 of their set they'd really outstayed their welcome. It was The Ex & Brass Unbound that most people wanted to hear.

Getting Mats Gustafsson and Ken Vandermark onto the same stage at the same time isn't that difficult, and their cutting-edge retro free-jazz (the contradiction is deliberate) is about the best that there is. Ken has been keen to distance himself from past rowdy DIY-punk associations for some time now though, and you won't hear him pushing his discs with The Flying Luttenbachers as high watermarks of his career. I remember talking to him about those days several years ago and he seemed more than a little embarrassed. The Ex seem to have a unique pull though, his pal Gustafsson is clearly less reticent, and this being a special event to mark the group's 30th anniversary Ken clearly decided 'what the heck'. Filling out the brass section (and right at the opposite end of the stage) were Wolter Wierbos and Roy Paci, more of whom later.

When the gig finally got underway it was divine mayhem. The Ex did exactly what they do best, rough and ready and extremely loose, their energy actually out-did the horns for much of the time. Vandermark and Gustafsson huffed and puffed, and despite being two of the most lethal saxophonists on the planet they struggled to penetrate the wall of sound created by these like-able Dutch dilettantes. It wasn't all down to excessive amplification either. The triple fuzz guitar attack was really too close to the frequency of the baritone and tenor saxes, and when Ken got out his clarinet he was a metaphorical needle in a haystack. Much of the time he looked disinterested (even bored), but as the evening progressed he found his feet, and a way into the mayhem.

Wierbos and Paci fared better at their end of the stage, their rasping brass attack really enhancing the group's sound. Arrangements were basic to say the least, real back-of-a-beer-mat stuff, but that's part of the group's charm. Could you really imagine them with a slick horn section punching out the riffs? I even recognised two of the pieces ('State of Shock' and 'Hidegen Fujnak A Szelek' from Scrabbling At The Lock), and this led to a vague feeling of smugness that I won't try to condone. As the gig wore on there were small chinks for Ken and Mats to cut through the din, and hats off to The Ex for sticking to their guns.

It was almost a shame to have to get into that Audi and drive away...

Fred Grand

Jan Garbarek @ The Sage...

2010-01-27T18:24:00.009Z

I'm tempted to just cut and paste the review of Jan Garbarek's previous appearance at The Sage, but that would be more than a little unfair. Last night's performance was subtly different, with some of those differences being for the better, and others for the worse.

First the bad. The programme was extremely similar, and almost 18 months on you'd perhaps expect at least some evolution. For what is essentially a very structured and form-conscious music, Garbarek's group weren't even as slick as they'd been in November 2007. He played a little too much soprano (there seemed to be a problem with the mechanics on his tenor), and Yuri Daniel's identity is still a little blurred. He made a great short notice stand-in for Eberhard Weber, but as a replacement he lacks the grace, melodicism and taste of the great German. Some of his sound processing bordered on Metheny-esque vulgarity, but I do approve of his grasp of funk and the added edge that he brings to the group. Oh, and finally, Brünninghaus still looks like a Smurf.

Now we move on to the good stuff. As billed, Trilok Gurtu replaced Manu Katché, and in so doing he not only brought a much wider range of textures and sounds, but he gave the music a looser feel (perhaps turning the comment about the group's relative lack of slickness in the previous paragraph into a positive). He also made clear the well established influence of Indian music on Garbarek's work. He's a virtuoso, a heavyweight, and easily the best percussionist to work with the group since Nana Vasconcelos. Let's hope he can be a permanent fixture - heck, he's a busy man, but it's not as though this group tours prolifically.

Just being Jan Garbarek is almost enough. He occupies a special place for me, and his singular sound evokes so many good memories and feelings. The deceptive simplicity of his music is great too, and I love trying to figure out how he moves through his harmonic progressions. His ability to make a note hang above an ever changing backdrop of colour is often breathtaking. Unpicking the links to Ayler, Ornette, Jim Pepper and Coltrane is a good sport too, although as time goes by it becomes easier and easier.

So, it certainly wasn't a wasted evening. This time we were just three rows from the front so it was as much a visual as an aural experience. It's perhaps a little disappointing to think that if he returns in the next couple of years the performance probably won't be that much different, but from the earliest days with George Russell, Keith Jarrett and then his own projects he's remained consistent. Change with Garbarek is glacial, and he's no less a musician for that. He's confident of his voice, and people also happen to like it in large numbers.

With a reprisal of Mission: To Be Where I Am as an encore, it was in so many ways the very essence of Garbarek...

Fred Grand

PS: A happy New Year (very belatedly) to any readers. More posts soon, I hope. Ken Vandermark and Mats Gustafsson with The Ex lined up for Sunday, and millions of old CD reviews still to post...

Chris Yates (R.I.P), with references to Henry Grimes...

2009-12-02T18:39:00.007Z

I haven't posted a review of the Henry Grimes-Paul Dunmall-Andrew Cyrille gig last Thursday as yet, partly because I haven't felt inclined too, but mainly because of the sad news that Jazz North East secretary Chris Yates suffered a suspected heart attack on the way to the gig, and died within 48 hours.

Like many people in North East England, a lot of my exposure to top quality jazz was a result of Chris's sterling work. Long before we had The Sage, and in times when jazz was so unfashionable it spelled commercial suicide, Chris was flying the flag for the music he passionately believed in. His enthusiasm was infectious, and nobody will ever forget his slightly bumbling persona, stooping to speak into a ridiculously low microphone to announce forthcoming events.

I remember how thrilled I was when he asked me to replace Noel Proudfoot on the committee in the late 90s, and although we had many disagreements about the music, his generosity was unbounded. He was always the first to back new initiatives aimed at audiences beyond the comfortable mainstream core, and that marked the beginning of the shift that Paul Bream has emphatically consolidated.

When I put on Hession/Wilkinson/Fell at the Live Theatre and we got an audience of 15, that would have been enough for many to pull in the reins. Not Chris though, and shortly after we broke the 100 barrier in the same venue with Derek Bailey. Ultimately the strain of constantly balancing promotion with full time work (and many other interests) proved too much for me and I was the one who called time. I can only marvel at how Chris effortlessly balanced his work at the university with his family life and his role as both a reviewer and a promoter. That is a mark of both his organisational acumen and his dedication.

I'll carry many great memories of Chris, most of them private and personal ones. My involvement in jazz at the level of more than a mere fan started with the helping hand that Chris gave me, and I won't forget that. For a man who proudly boasted that he hadn't missed a Jazz North East gig for several decades, we were all shocked to note the impact of his declining health over the last year or so, and coincidentally Louise and I were sitting with Dave and Pam from the committee discussing this very topic before this very gig.

Even in his absence you always felt that Chirs had an in loco parentis presence, and I suspect it will be that way for some time to come, given how closely he was identified with the organisation. That in no way minimises the massive part that Paul and Dave both currently play, and it is some consolation that the organisation looks to be in a strong position to build on his legacy.

Ironically, I think he'd have enjoyed the Grimes gig more than I did. Apart from the sheer surprise of seeing and hearing Grimes after so many years where he was off the map, the main interest came from Andrew Cyrille, who at least tried to bend and shape an otherwise predictable flow of what now seems to be known as 'fire music'. After Dunmall had done a stint on each of his instruments I felt that there was nothing left to add and it became a mercifully short gig. It had a directness and underlying blues feeling that I know Chris valued highly, (and if only...).

Instead of a proper review of the gig I'll simply post a review of a recent Grimes CD, an oddity I wasn't totally won over by, despite my obvious reverence for the bassist. After last Thursday I'm more inclined to go back to his work with the Gerry Mulligan Quartet. Mulligan, like Chris, was a key figure in my early appreciation of jazz.

Enough of life's circular flow, for all of those who knew Chris it's time for some serious contemplation...

HENRY GRIMES
Solo Bass & Violin
ILK MUSIC 2CD set (ILK 151)

Solo Improvisation

Henry Grimes (b, vn) 3/08.

Recorded in New York in March 2008, this un-edited solo performance could turn out to be the masterpiece of Grimes’ second career flush. This is the same Henry Grimes who anchored the Gerry Mulligan Quartet in the late ‘50s, also playing countless mainstream gigs with everybody from Benny Goodman to Coleman Hawkins before moving to New York and hooking up with Sonny Rollins and, significantly, Cecil Taylor. Just as the ‘New Thing’ was gathering momentum, Grimes quietly ‘disappeared’ into a world of menial day jobs for 35 years, presumed lost, before dramatically re-emerging in 2002 amid much excitement.

Interestingly, his return was nurtured by his modern day equivalent, William Parker. Both bassists share phenomenal facility and have a huge sonorous presence. Abstract, bittersweet and tumultuous, every sinew-jarring plucked and bowed note is preserved faithfully on this richly detailed recording. To sustain a solo performance of this duration and keep it interesting is no easy task, even for a player of Grimes’ stature. Occasionally he’ll switch to violin for brief interludes, and the same logic and clarity of expression is brought to each instrument. Undoubtedly demanding on the listener and with inevitable longeurs, this some times tortured journey goes directly into the mind of a great musician without any filtering. Highly recommended.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review)

Tomasz Stanko's 'Dark Eyes' Quintet @ The Sage...

2009-11-18T20:15:00.005Z

After a long pause, plus a few days to let this event sink in, it's time to put something out on the blog again. Amazingly, to me at least, Sunday evening was the first time I'd ever seen and heard Stanko live. I've been a fan for many years, and as you'd probably imagine from the title of this blog, Balladyna is one of my favourite albums. I love his gravelly burr, smokey half valve slurs, wild interval leaps and uniquely bleak and portentous way of phrasing. I follow his music wherever it goes, and with him being such a rare visitor to these shores you can imagine how delighted I was when I noticed the listing for this gig a few months ago.

Helping me through the long wait was the release of the new disc, 'Dark Eyes', which went to the top of my pretty small play list when it arrived last month. With the Wasilewski trio I thought he'd found his best and most stable group since the '70s, and in truth that's probably the case. This new project, a darkly elegiac film soundtrack, saw the formation of a young and relatively unknown quintet from every corner of Scandinavia. A slightly harder edge and a more pronounced jazz sensibility, the group mark a welcome new strand to his career.

Jakob Bro, electric guitarist (a Telecaster, no less), is the most noticeable departure from Stanko's recent projects. Running the fairly small gamut from Abercrombie to Frisell, he added colours and textures which expand the music's palette. Take him out of the group and the sound would have been closer to the group from the '80-'90s with Tony Oxley and Bobo Stenson which first drew me to the trumpeter's work. Bro's control was impressive and his imagination vivid, and although not everything he did worked, I appreciated his refusal to play licks or cliches.

The group played in The Sage's intimate Hall 2, probably my favourite venue for live music bar none. We has seats that put us close to the action, and it was also good to see a large Polish contingent in the audience (the gig formed part of a Polska! festival). They played one set of almost 1h 45m, and it was essentially a reprisal of the album, slightly re-ordered to allow a better flow. The extra minutes were made to count, though it was Stanko, Bro and pianist Alexi Tuomarila (very much a '70s Jarrett-man) who were the main soloists. Bass guitarist Anders Christensen didn't really solo as such, but he didn't put a foot wrong, and despite looking like Flea he played with impressive sensitivity. Finnish drummer Olavi Louhivuori was similarly impressive, his armoury taking in everything from pastoralism and impressionistic strokes to complete abstraction and kick-ass aggression. In short, this is a versatile and highly mobile group.

Stanko let his horn do the talking, his gaunt features and tall but slender frame projecting an enormous presence and awesome power. As with the Gustavsen gig (reviewed in the last post) the sound engineering belied the fact that this was a live performance, and these pristine standards seem to be becoming a feature of many touring ECM artists. That's not to say that the performance was airbrushed, far from it. The soundstage may have been optimal, but a pristine recreation of the album wasn't the outcome it may have been with lesser artists who don't share Stanko's questing spirit. Listening to his fast post-bop lines the link to late '60s Miles was more obvious to me than it had ever been.

We left completely satisfied, and in a year of great gigs this stood out there on its own. Lots more live music to come, including Henry Grimes next week, Andy Sheppard with Michel Benita/Rita Marcotulli, Jan Garbarek, Nik Bärtsch and Nils Petter Molvaer. We've even booked to see Jerry Douglas next year as part of a tasty looking 'Transatlantic Sessions' package, so inspiring was Sunday's performance. The best live performances should always be inspiring and uplifting, stoking the flames and whetting the appetite for more. The worst simply leave me cold and have me irritatedly glancing at my watch. Tomasz Stanko delivered one of the best.

Fred Grand

Tord Gustavsen Ensemble @ Queens Hall, Edinburgh...

2009-10-19T17:01:00.008+01:00

It may have taken a few days to get this posted, but then it has also taken a few days for the effects of the gig to sink in and fully hit home. Just as Tord seems to consider and deliberately execute every stroke of the piano keys, a pause for reflection probably wasn't a bad idea really, although in truth there's little I could have done to write up the gig any earlier having only just arrived home after a few days of much needed holiday in Edinburgh. What I suppose I'm trying to say is this: Friday night was deeply impressive, and I don't often leave a concert hall feeling so completely satisfied. In order to set in in context and get some perspective takes a decent amount of time, so rather than stringing together a list of superlatives and pressing 'publish', I've taken some time to reflect.

Although I've enjoyed his trio of trio discs for ECM and enthusiastically greeted Restored, Returned when I first heard it last week, it should be noted that I didn't go along as a committed fan ready to enthusiastically lap up anything he offered. Despite having had other opportunities to hear him play, this was the first time I'd actually committed to going out to hear him live. I went into the gig looking for some confirmation of his talents, needing to be fully won over. The '70s is really my favourite decade for Manfred Eicher's iconic ECM label, and the Esbjörn Svensson effect - a superficial reinvention of the piano trio to a point where they're proliferating at a rate which makes them too hard to properly evaluate - has also made me harder to impress when it comes to this old established format.

It turned out that in much the same way as with Marcin Wasilewski earlier this year, first hand experience was enough to make the breakthrough. There's really nothing like seeing a good live performance to help understand what makes a musician tick. Last Friday I feel as though I may have got close to understanding where lies the bottom of Gustavsen's estimable depths, and as a result I now feel more comfortable to embrace him as an outstanding talent.

The opening night of a 10 date UK tour and the first time that this particular quartet had played together in concert, Gustavsen seemed to sense that something special was in the air. Everything about the leader was hushed and respectful, and his quiet introductions of the musicians - Tore Brunborg, Mats Eilertsen and Jarle Vespestad - spoke volumes about how pleased he was to be there with them. Integral to the performance was the sound engineer, brought on the tour as the Ensemble's 'fifth member', and rather like seeing true high definition television for the first time, you wish that standards could always be as high and are surely in for a disappointment next time you go back to a standard presentation. In some branches of jazz such clinical precision may not be necessary, but for Gustavsen's subtle gestural music it is imperative.

Unlike the latest CD, where the fifth ensemble member is vocalist Kristin Asbjørnsen, last Friday's music was purely instrumental. Gustavsen has worked with vocalists - notably Silje Nergaard - in the past, but for this tour the band were cut back to a four piece. From several short lullabies to feature pieces such as 'The Child Within' and 'The Swirl', the new album was the group's main focus, and the same low key and thoughtful modes of expression predominated. 'The Gaze' stood out among the newer pieces, though everything that the quartet did was in truth perfectly executed. Only on the Spanish-tinged modal piece 'Where We Went' did the group seem to let go, a strictly relative relative observation in as much as the ensemble's letting simply consisted of digging in to a deep modal groove. Normally I'd be looking for dirty blemishes, grit and grease as a sign of authenticity, but Gustavsen establishes a convincing exception. He has no need for any of that in his music, and you only need to see him writhe at the piano stool to know that he's lost in the process, as deeply involved in the act of making music where everything counts as any expressionistic avant-gardist.

If there was anything about the music that was disappointing then it was Brunborg, only because he relied so heavily on Garbarek for his voice and direction. Rather like hearing a Coltrane disciple with no twists of individuality, the effect is slightly uncomfortable when you strongly believe (as I do) that jazz should be about individual expression. For a Norwegian to lean so heavily on an influence is of course no worse than the hundreds of Coltrane disciples around the world who bring nothing new to the table, and as far as this particular project is concerned it must be said that Brunborg's approach was perfectly fitting and appropriate.

The long-haired almost bear-like bassist Mats Eilertsen oozed cool concentration, his rich woody tone and guitar-like virtuosity recalling the heyday of Palle Danielsson. Vespestad seemed to be in a constant state of slow motion or suspended animation. A heavily miked drum kit meant that the smallest gesture resonated around the walls of this beautiful old hall, and given the group's almost holy asceticism - they even closed the set with an 'evening prayer' - the former church made a fitting arena for such a deeply moving and in some ways ritualistic performance.

This trip had started out as another hardly required excuse to have a weekend away in Edinburgh. What we witnessed at The Queens Hall on Friday was something very special, and after the sonic-slugging that characterised much of 'On The Outside' last week it was impressive proof that intensity and passion can be just as powerfully realised in quieter ways. Anybody can play loudly and with a lack of discipline, but to distil so much emotion into such a potent brew is something that you don't encounter every day. To say that 'less is more' misses the point because the same quiet approach that Gustavsen shares with Cor Fuhler and latter day Crispell is not actually 'less'. Welcome to my quiet revolution...

Fred Grand

On The Outside Festival: Day Three...Marilyn Crispell, Rob Brown, Günter 'Baby' Sommer et al...

2009-10-12T19:07:00.009+01:00

The final day of the festival proved to be the busiest, but the most rewarding of the three. The quality of the music remained high, the atmosphere among the musicians light and friendly, the audiences attentive and enthusiastic, and I'd even go as far as to say that I started to warm to Alan Tomlinson's idiosyncratic trombonery by the close of play. His duet with 'Baby' Sommer in the last set was in all honesty one of the festival's highlights - a theatrical display full of absurdist humour and ironies. Rasping trombone and marching band beats, it could almost have been an offshoot of the Zentrall Quartett.

Starting for us at 11AM, the pace of the day didn't really let up until midnight. We'd arranged to take Marilyn to see the coast - just like me she's a great fan of the sea, and Tynemouth was the destination. Louise postponed her shopping mission to come along and enjoy the morning, and to me this was really what 'artist liaison' should be about. OK, with such a large scale festival staffed by overworked and under appreciated volunteers it may be an unrealistic ambition, but showing visiting musicians something other than hotel rooms and concert halls is an enriching and rewarding thing. We walked for a couple of hours, including a trip along the pier in high winds, and Marilyn enjoyed it so much that on her recommendation Rudi Mahall and his partner took off on the Metro later that afternoon to see it for themselves.

It was back to the festival for 2PM, and highlights of the afternoon set included Marilyn's group with Chevillon and Taylor, and the established duo of Rob Brown and Daniel Levin. As the musicians worked their way through the matinee, a fiendish plot was being unhatched by Raymond MacDonald to divide the evening session up into twelve short groupings selected by the musicians. I say 'fiendish' because I was the person charged with having to round up the groupings and get them on stage one after the other. In the end it was a breeze, the musicians by and large needing no prompts to get up and play.

Following a breathtaking solo by Marilyn and an equally engaging duet with MacDonald, the artists' selections commenced. Turnover was rapid, and the audience had a chance to hear everybody at least once. Rob Brown did a nice duet with Günter and Marilyn, Bruno & Chad drew the biggest applause with a highly rhythmic workout, and I've already mentioned the pleasant surprise of Alan and Günther.

Crowds were consistently good throughout the festival, but with such an outstanding line-up it's disappointing that more didn't travel from Scotland or the South. Perhaps marketing needs to sharpen up and the web presence increase if there's a next time, because although crowds for this kind of music will never reach blockbuster levels there's still room to grow.

The biggest threat to the continuance of this festival is the need to secure ongoing funding. As the crowds dispersed just before 11PM, many will have been wondering if they'll get the chance to do it all again next year. Paul chooses to remain optimistic, and I don't blame him. If nothing can be done then he should be proud of the festivals that he did pull off against so many odds, but you can bet he'll be doing his damnedest to see that we're all back next year.

Our last act of the 2009 festival was to drop Günter back at the hotel and wish him a safe journey home. I never imagined I'd ever see him up close in the UK, and to get the opportunity to see and hear him play in so many contexts was unforgettable. A niche music this might be, but it has a place. Let's hope that one of those places is still Tyneside in 2010. As Herr Sommer remarked when we shook hands in front of the hotel, 'It's up to you!'. Words to live by, and if there's anything I can do to help, I will.

Fred Grand

On The Outside Festival: Day Two...

2009-10-11T08:38:00.009+01:00

Just a short write up of yesterday, before today gets underway. The festival really seemed to take off on Saturday, with some consistently high quality sets. The artists are settling in and getting to know each other, and the atmosphere is warm and friendly. Günter got his bag back and lit up the stage three times yesterday with his uniquely theatrical performing style, and the arrival of Bruno Chevillon (late due to a missed flight) added yet another dimension.

After the smooth running of the opening night it started to feel a bit chaotic behind the scenes, but amazingly things appeared normal at the front of the house, everything running just about on time and to the schedule. Perhaps traumatised after shock exposure to the affectionately re-named 'trombone loon' (aka Alan Tomlinson) on Friday night, Louise opted to go shopping in the afternoon. My first challenge came when Rob Brown couldn't be found before his 4PM slot, and after searching the building high and low several times I had to think on my feet, asking young Scottish tenor/baritone saxophonist Graeme Wilson if he'd mind filling in. Keen as mustard he took to the stage, only for Brown (delayed by a late-running Metro) to appear as they finished their first piece. The result? A dramatic entrance and a real bonus in the form of a quartet with a two horn front-line that for me turned out to be the day's highlight.

Günter was the next person to go Missing In Action, although it later turned out that he'd been behind the curtains on the stage all the time. He's already a big favourite with the crowds, and I'm pleased to finally get my chance to see him live after many years of admiration. Marilyn only played once, but found more space in today's ensemble, the Ducret/Chevillon combo was as tight as I'd imagined, and Fuhhler continued to impress with his work inside the piano. The young Dutchman closed the evening in a group consisting of his piano, two cellos and two bases. Another of the day's best groupings, their chamber-ish 'new music' recalled the New York avant-garde of the 50s and was just the kind of contrasting change of pace and direction that the evening needed.

Our work ended in dropping Bruno off at his hotel. No wrong turns down any one-way systems this time, just the cattle-market of Central Newcastle on Saturday night to negotiate. Bruno was the second ECM recording artist to hop into my car in as many days, making this a very acceptable way to close out another tiring but successful day. For Sunday morning we've arranged to take Marilyn sight-seeing, and then the music begins again at 2PM. I'm looking forward to her solo set in the evening, and also to artist programmed segment of the festival. Hopefully I'll find the time to blog all of that tomorrow...if not Monday.

On The Outside Festival: Opening Night...

2009-10-10T08:20:00.011+01:00

Louise and I are pressed willingly into action all weekend at what may be the last 'On The Outside' festival, unless future funding can be secured. With another fine international roster of avant jazz and improvised music people, if this has to be the last of the line then the high quality roster of artists assembled promises a fitting closure to the series. Of course I hope that financial backing can be found (even RBS would be welcome, if they're still frittering money away on events sponsorships), as there's nothing quite like it in the UK, and i'd be hard pressed to name another festival anywhere that adopts the same fecund approach to group improvisation.

We've got the same behind-the-scenes role as last time - loosely termed 'artist liaison' - only this time the job has been made a lot easier by the introduction of outside caterers. Last year's Indian/Chinese/Italian takeaway menu co-ordination was quite a challenge, and if I remember rightly it even delayed the start of the festival on the first night! Other than picking up Marilyn Crispell from her hotel (and spiking the ire of several drivers and pedestrians as I made a hash of going the wrong way into a one way system - it was dark and confusing), there hasn't been too much to do so far. Things have gone like clockwork, though Günter Sommer, whose luggage is still in Amsterdam, may disagree.

Musicians have pretty much rounded themselves up on time and been ready to play without needing any encouragement. This has even left some time to listen to the music, a mixed blessing in many ways as I'm not as receptive to free improvisation as I once was. The opening night was a good chance to scope out some of the musicians, and the combinations of personalities by and large worked well. Opening with Scots saxophonist Raymond MacDonald alongside percussionist Chad Taylor and cellist Daniel Levin, a promising start was made. Levin's dark timbres and Taylor's light touch gave MacDonald lots of space to blow, and his Lacy-esque soprano in one particular calm passage was great to hear.

This ostensibly structureless music generally finds its own recurring structure, however. Calm-swell-crescendo-repeat just about sums it up, but that's not to minimise the surprise element, as musicians unlearn their instruments and use 'extended techniques'. The next group, with the twin guitar attack of Marc Ducret and Chris Sharkey, had plenty of that to offer. Rarely sounding guitar-like, Cor Fuhler's shimmering piano which underpinned the axe men's antics was for me the most interesting feature. Ducret is a nice guy with a winning smile though, and it was good to have a chat with him about his new base in Copenhagen, and the many new projects he is involved with there. His old brother in arms Bruno Chevillon arrives on Saturday, and I'm looking forward to hearing the two together at some point.

Next up was a solo intro by trombonist Alan Tomlinson, later joined by Rudi Mahall and local bassist Andy Champion. We missed most of their offerings because of the excursion to the hotel to collect Marilyn, although Tomlinson's eccentric 'bubble and squeak' may have been hard going had we stayed. Crispell was much as I imagined her, and although I've heard her play several times and know a good few of her recordings, she's the undoubted 'star' of the event. It was good to get a bit of time to chat and make her feel welcome. With minimal fuss and turnaround she was soon on stage with Rob Brown, Marcio Mattos and Chad Taylor (standing in for the equipment-less Sommer). I find Brown a bit shrill, although I'm a big admirer of the string of discs he's made with William Parker's formidable quartet. Marilyn's more minimal aesthetic didn't really have the space to find voice, although she did add interesting colour and direction to the music on several occasions. Hearing her in a quieter setting later during the weekend should bring out the best in her, and I can't wait.

The last time I saw Chad Taylor was almost a decade ago when he performed at a no-fi gig by the Chicago Underground Duo that I co-promoted. That night the musicians slept on the floor in my flat, and it shows how far things have come (and what a great fund-rasing job Paul Bream has done) that now they are provided with good quality accommodation in central Newcastle. With afternoon and evening sessions on Saturday and Sunday to come, I'll hopefully get a chance to blog a few more impressions, although I've got a feeling that today is where it starts to get a lot busier...

Fred Grand

Al Haig...

2009-09-19T10:31:00.003+01:00

No time for shirking, time to get some more old reviews posted. There seems to be a bit of an Al Haig thing going on at another blog I've recently enjoyed visiting, and if you're curious I can offer a link to this very CD. Of course, such downloads should only be for research purposes. If you like what you hear you should always support the artists directly.

The services such blogs perform for avid and curious listeners can't be underestimated though. I for one have discovered lots of new music that I've later gone on to buy as a result of sampling other folk's libraries. I hope that this educational and close knit community ethos amongst jazz aficionados isn't stamped out by the record industry. We aren't interested in mainstream releases, and our holy grail consists of long out of print (almost unobtainable) music as rare as any antiquity.

Removing the opportunity for felicitous encounters which inspire listeners to go out and expand their collection seems counter-productive. Where a release is out of print and never likely to be re-issued ever again, the enthusiast's quest to hear the material seems to me to be entirely different to the consumer that is simply looking for a free copy of the latest Peter Andre CD to stick on their iPod. Thanks to blogs like the one I mention above, I now know about Tony Dagradi, and I'm off to Amazon right now to see what I can find...

AL HAIG TRIO
Un Poco Loco
SPOTLITE JAZZ (SPJ701-CD)

Confirmation; Naima; All Blues; Laura; Voices Deep Within Me; Never Let Me Go; How Deep Is The Ocean; Un Poco Loco; The Theme

Al Haig (p); Jamil Nasser (b); Tony Mann (d), (Recorded September 1978).

Although not a Be-bop pioneer, Al Haig kept a high profile during the music’s very earliest days, quickly assimilating and embracing the example of Bud Powell. His legacy includes historic recordings with Parker, Gillespie and Navarro, as well as tenures with Chet Baker and Stan Getz and immortality via Miles’ Birth of the Cool nonet sessions. Long periods of inactivity, including jobbing as a cocktail pianist, effectively divide his career into two phases separated by a twenty year gap.

British record label Spotlite was instrumental in helping Haig to attain recognition as a giant of bop, returning him to the studios late in 1973. An Indian Summer followed, before Haig passed away in 1982. Un Poco Loco, recorded in 1978, is further fruit from the Spotlite partnership, and a fine example of Haig at his peak. Accompanied by regular bass partner Jamil Nasser and British drummer Tony Mann, it’s good to see how much Haig had moved with the times and built on his roots. Although renditions of “Confirmation”, Un Poco Loco” and “The Theme” survive from the Be-bop book, there is a far more expansive side to Haig’s work in evidence. Happy to embrace Jamal, Cedar Walton and Chick Corea as influences, Haig’s style nevertheless remains personal. Readings of “Naima” and “All Blues” further indicate a musician open to change.

Although the trio never abandon progressions or probe as deeply into harmony as more interactive trios from the Bill Evans school, Haig works within the structures to turn in some thoughtfully impressive work. Nasser’s bass is a muscular backbone well at home in this environment. Aside from his long tenure with Ahmad Jamal, Nasser also worked with Phineas Newborn and Harold Mabern, and yes, this is the same man who also worked with Eric Dolphy and Booker Little. Standouts include an elegant “How Deep Is The Ocean”, a breakneck run through of Walton’s “Voices” (complete with “Salt Peanuts” quote) and a rhythmically hypnotic take of the Bud Powell composed title track. Although it won’t shake the earth or move mountains, Un Poco Loco is a rewarding way to spend an hour, and a reminder of a talent so nearly lost to the vagaries of jazz fashion.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, May 2006)

John Etheridge...

2009-09-16T17:37:00.006+01:00

How can it be so long since I last blogged? The Horace Tapscott CD has arrived and been devoured, I've recently discovered a nice hidden Tommy Smith gem (Nomade by Loic Dequidt's Quartet, Kopasetic), and I've also got a new job!! Snow Leopard is installed on the Mac (and apart from a few glitches here and there it is a vast improvement), and I've been sneaking in some miles on my roadbike in the early hours of the morning, before leaving for work.

The new job is probably less interesting than the reviews, so let's just say I'm pleased to be making a change that gives me a bit of a promotion but keeps me in a more-or-less related field of work. Last Friday afternoon, to mark the occasion, we sat decadently in the garden drinking champagne at 4PM. Not the kind of thing we do every day, but nice anyway.

As for the musical offering, I'll go for a John Etheridge CD (only because guitar maestro Martin Taylor has started following me on Twitter, clear evidence that Afric Pepperbird has some intrinsic merit, if not also a sign that there's little jazz to be found on Twitter).

Hell, this review even gives Taylor a flattering reference. Not sure I've ever reviewed a Taylor disc, so if you're reading this Martin, it's high time I gave it a go...

JOHN ETHERIDGE
I Didn’t Know
DYAD (DY 024)

Guitar Makossa; God Bless The Child; I’ll Take Les; Now’s The Time; Motherless Child; Mercy, Mercy, Mercy; Lullaby of Birdland; I Didn’t Know; My Romance; Outline; Come Sunday; Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man; Strange Comforts; With The Wind; Goodbye Porkpie Hat; Swing Low Sweet Chariot.

John Etheridge (g)
Recorded 2003-4

There’s something about the guitar that seems to produce irrational worship amongst its devotees. I know many amateur guitarists who wouldn’t dream of buying recordings or going to hear live music described as “jazz” unless their instrument of choice happened to be centre stage. John Etheridge has benefited from generous coverage over the years in specialist guitar magazines, and like Metheny or Scofield he’s a ‘jazzer’ who’s managed to penetrate the consciousness of bedroom pickers far and wide. In many ways, this recording is for them, consisting as it does of short solo pieces on a variety of guitars, all makes and models described in assiduous detail in the accompanying booklet.

The use of overdubbing may worry some, placing Etheridge a notch or two below Joe Pass or Martin Taylor in the blow-your-socks-off stakes, but you’d still struggle to be unimpressed by his speed and dexterity. The material allows for a variety of approaches, from the straght-ahead ‘Now’s The Time’ to a funky version of Scofield’s ‘I’ll Take Les’, and the fusion influences of his own 'Outline’. Stadium-rock pyrotechnics are strictly off limits, and the general restraint with which he plays could surprise those who haven’t heard him for some time.

Where ‘I Didn’t Know’ seems to fall down, however, is in the way that it so often resembles a pile of pages torn randomly from an artist’s sketchbook. Many selections are faded early or simply too short for any improvisational depth to be developed. Standouts tend to be the more fully realised pieces, and include a doom-laden ‘Motherless Child’ that recalls the barren beauty of prime Bill Frisell, the languid funk of Joe Zawinul’s ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’, and the lovingly deconstructed ‘Goodbye Porkpie Hat’ (with shades of Delta Blues). A long way from his roots with Soft Machine, and for that matter from recent acclaimed tribute projects to the music of Grappelli and Zappa, and although it may not be a release for the wider jazz community, it should certainly satisfy fans of the guitar as totemic icon.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, October 2004)

Christian Scott: Anthem...

2009-08-25T17:57:00.006+01:00

Yikes, the last time I posted anything here was the 9th of August! Whilst I'm certain that there won't be anybody, anywhere in the world, currently experiencing withdrawal symptoms as they're starved of new material, it's still a little bit more of a gap than I'd like. So what's my excuse?

Really there isn't one. Things have certainly been busy, and a new batch of releases for the next edition of Jazz Journal (seven in total) has accounted for most of my time at the computer. The good weather has seen me getting out a bit more on my road bike, and my relative lack of fitness and advancing age has lengthened the recovery time between rides. Spending far less time at the computer in a typical evening to make the most of our evenings at home is another factor, so I suppose it's fair to say that there's no single excuse, but lots of reasons why postings aren't more regular.

To get things back on course again, here's a write up of a disc by Christian Scott which complements the Wallace Roney piece quite well. It went into Jazz Review some time last year, and with the demise of that magazine it'd be nice to post the remaining reviews in my archives over the coming months. After that it'll be back to Rubberneck and Avant.

Next major jazz event has to be the re-issue of Horace Tapscott's Dark Tree, though I'm almost tempted to venture north again to see Tommy Smith and Gary Burton doing a Wayne Shorter programme. If only it wasn't for that damn big band...

CHRISTIAN SCOTT
Anthem
CONCORD JAZZ (COJ30209.2)

Litany Against Fear; Void; Anthem; Re:; Cease Fire; Dialect; Remains Distant; Uprising; Katrina’s Eyes; The 9; Like That; Anthem (Post-diluvial Adaptation).

Walter Smith III (ts); Louis Fouché (as); Christian Scott (t, cn, flh, p); Aaron Parks (ky), Matt Stevens (g); Luques Curtis and Esperanza Spalding (b); Marcus Gilmore (d); Brother J of X-Clan (voc on 12).

Perhaps the most enduring legacy of Miles Davis is seen today in the number of trumpeters still seeking to popularise a blend of jazz, rock, funk and hip-hop. From Ron Miles through to Wallace Roney, Erik Truffaz and Nils Petter Molvaer, many have ‘plugged-in’ and tried their luck. Almost to a man they’ve improved on Miles’ latter day efforts – let’s face it, his final decade was pretty lightweight – and so it is with Grammy nominated Christian Scott.

Rewind That (Concord, 2006) deserved its place in my end of year ‘best of’ list, and the same post-rock rhythms, inter-woven rock guitar lines and doom-laden pedal chords are all found here. Written in the wake of Hurricane Katrina - Scott is himself a Crescent City native - this is a disc pregnant with emotion. From the opening chords of ‘Litany Against Fear’, a pensively brooding melancholia is laced with the optimism of Scott’s declamatory trumpet. ‘Anthem’ starts with the kind of urgent piano vamp that Matthew Shipp would recognise, before settling into a beautifully reflective groove that could play for hours. The impetus behind the sombre ‘Katrina’s Eyes’ should be obvious, whilst ‘The 9’ stands out with a more upbeat and overtly ‘jazz’ feel. ‘Like That’ adds moody reverb-laden Rhodes to the mix, though Aaron Parks’ sentimental solo is a little cloying. A reprise of ‘Anthem’, this time offering the thoughtful polemic of rapper Brother J of X-Clan, closes out this impressively mature and coherent statement and programmatically it makes perfect sense.

With his fat, furry tone, Scott could no doubt hold his own in any neo-con blowing session. That would somehow waste his talents. He already has a very personal music, both of its time and ‘in the tradition’. Too early to speak of his place in the pantheon of great, he’s nevertheless doing just fine for now, thank you.

Fred Grand

Wallace Roney...

2009-08-09T12:31:00.002+01:00

Continuing the Edinburgh connection, here's a review from 2006 of a disc by a band I'd seen just beforehand at The Hub In Edinburgh. A memorable gig, but the disc fell a little short...

WALLACE RONEY
Mystikal
HIGH NOTE (HCD 7145)

Atlantis; Mystikal; Stargaze; Just My Imagination; Hey Young World; Poetic; Baby’s Breath; Nice Town; I’ll Keep Loving You.

Wallace Roney (t); Antoine Roney (ts/ss/bcl); Geri Allen (p/elp); Adam Holzman (ky); Matt Garrison (b/elb); Eric Allen (d); Bobby Thomas Jr. (perc); Val Jeanty (turntables), (May 2005).

I’m sure that nobody will be surprised to learn that the new release by trumpeter Wallace Roney has something of the influence of Miles about it. If you missed his 2004 release Prototype (High Note), you may not yet be aware that electric Miles is currently exercising the mind of the official heir. We’re not talking about the out and out funk of On The Corner or the epic jams of Agartha, but Silent Way and even Bitches Brew have suddenly appeared on Roney’s radar. I saw the gig in Edinburgh that was given Mike Pyper’s approval in JR 72, and I too marvelled at Roney’s awesome command of his music. I was surprised to at just how far ‘out’ he ventured in a live setting, suggesting there’s plenty being left in the locker when he visits the studios.

Mystikal then is far more reigned in than the gig, but despite a few wobbles it generally builds on the largely fulfilled promise of Prototype. The addition of DJ Val to the cast is a major advance. Her contributions are more seamlessly integrated into the music than any turntablist I’ve yet heard, exactly the kind of innovation that Roney needs to embrace to sidestep accusations of an overly retro approach. Rest assured he’s not merely pitching for NuJazz cred, Mystikal at least matching any of his discs in the tradition of the Shorter-Hancock quintet for uncompromising improvisation. Jeanty’s contributions veer between narrative comment and sonic texture, always unobtrusive and in service of the music. It’s a Shorter composition, “Atlantis”, that opens. Allen’s piano meshes with Holzman’s Rhodes to locate things somewhere around late 1968. The title track follows and is a purely acoustic affair, that is until Jeanty inserts a telling voice sample which leads into the motoric funk of “Stargaze”. So far the transitions seem natural, the direction clear.

Less successful are the slightly too saccharine version of The Temptations’ “Just My Imagination” and the insipid reggae plod that is “Hey Young World”. A traditionalist reading of Kenny Dorham’s “Poetic” precedes another late 60’s quintet workout, a further slice of charged funk, and the tender balladry of the closing “I’ll Keep Loving You”, performed as a duet with his wife Geri Allen. Although I’d recommend Mystikal without too many qualms, its predecessor seemed more even and assured. Time for the less Janus-like outlook of his mentor to be asserted? I for one will be watching Roney’s next moves with interest.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, January 2006)

Roy Hargrove, Enrico Pieranunzi and Tommy Smith/Makato Ozone Quartet @ Edinburgh Jazz Festival...

2009-08-03T18:13:00.011+01:00

Time to rediscover the art of macro-blogging (or is is it just blogging?) after tweeting some some short comments about the weekend's activities on Twitter. Principally a mini RSS reader for me, it was nevertheless good to be able to post short real-time comments about each of the three gigs as soon as they'd happened, and using Blogger's Twitter widget here on Afric Pepperbird to have them instantaneously appear on this page. I just love putting technology at my service where it can be of a real use, and I think this was a pretty good example. And for anybody who followed the tweets, yes, we did go to the Botanical Garden (Louise deserved some non-musical activities, after all), and it wasn't too bad, even for a decidedly disinterested non-botanist like me.

First up was the now not so young lion Roy Hargrove. Well, before that honourable mention must go to our favourite Indian/Gujarati restaurant Ann Purna, where we ate before ambling along the road to the Queens Hall. Superb hospitality, subtly spiced and delicious food, and I'm just sorry we can't get there at least once a fortnight. Now onto the Hargrove, who I last saw at the same venue some 15 to 20 years ago, at the height of his newness. That night he had spark, and an energetic quintet with Marc Cary and Antonio Hart, to belt out the tunes with unmistakably sincere passion and fire. This time he delivered a solid festival set with enough variety to please an eager-to-be-pleased crowd, but it was clear that he now has a set of laurels on which he can rest. Justin Robinson, who I have at times enjoyed a great deal on record, was langorous and strangely behind the beat for most of the night. Hargrove played high notes with a fair amount of precision, but nothing that the late Freddie Hubbard wouldn't have done in his sleep, and young drummer Montez Coleman played with an all consuming passion and volume that at times threatened to sink the music. He could do well to listen to Billy Higgins' masterclass on Hargrove's Public Eye, but I doubt he will. Apart from a pianist in a kilt and an engaging enough warm-up from Brian Kellock before Hargrove arrived on stage, there's not a lot more to be said. And so to bed...

Saturday brought a fresh day, and with it some fresher musical winds. A trip to the aforementioned horticultural mecca was washed down with a nice lunch at Hendersons (incidental detail, but bear with me...), before we headed off to The Hub, possibly the best venue I've ever seen used for live jazz. Everytime I go there I'm impressed not only by the building (a converted church) and it's intelligent use of space and smart interior design, but also the brilliant acoustics. I've seen a few gigs there now, including Arild Andersen and Tommy Smith on the same weekend last year, but it doesn't really seem to get much use for jazz between festivals. Shame, as it is infinitely better than the dull acoustics and hardwood pews of the Queens Hall.

First up was Enrico Pieranunzi's trio with bassist Darryl Hall and facially hirsute drummer Enzo Zirilli. Anybody who has ever heard the great Italian maestro will not be surprised to learn that this was melodic improvisation at its subtle and creative best. Playing a mixture of standards and self-penned pieces, the time just flew and his 75 minutes was over all too quickly. Much is quite rightly made of Keith Jarrett's artistry in this same field, but I bet that the American holds the lesser known Italian in extremely high regard. Perhaps only the late Michel Petrucciani (who, in another gratuitous aside, I once saw perform solo at the Queens Hall) has in recent times operated in this area of jazz so well, and the wellspring of Bill Evans continues to gush serenely.

After a quick glass of wine in a nice little place at the top of the Royal Mile (a place with a ludicrously high count of tacky tourist traps), it was on to the last gig of our festival. Tommy Smith is an Edinburgh legend, and anybody who introduce a tune he wrote 23 years ago (and subsequently recorded for Blue Note) and still be performing on a stage as big as this has made themselves a career to be proud of. I'm a big fan, and my admiration goes back almost 23 years, remembering as I do his early days on the UK circuit after he'd returned from Berklee. Forward Motion, the Azure Quartet, the Standards Quartet, the Paris Sextet, and more recently Arild Andersen and the Forbidden Fruit Quartet - all have entertained and delighted over the years. I like the fact that for all his admiration of Coltrane and Brecker he is still rooted in his homeland, playing with a Celtic and Northern outlook that smacks of authenticity and sidesteps charges of imitation.

For this gig, we were treated to a first-time quartet. They met and rehearsed at 5PM, and performed at 8:30. Of course Smith and pianist Makato Ozone (ex-Miles and Gary Burton) have played and even recorded together before, and Smith is also no stranger to Chris Minh Doky, but to play sophisticated contemporary jazz as advanced as this and sound like a regular working group is quite a feat. Danish power drummer Jonas Johansen (who Smith introduced as Johannes Johansen, before quickly correcting himself and giving a witty aside about the newness of the band) was an excellent example of the need for taste when hitting hard. He found his place in the music with a natural ease, but despite his awesome technique and big presence he knew the importance of allowing space for the music to breathe. Tony Williams and Jack DeJohnette had it, and so does the young and exuberant Dane. I'm keen to hear his trio with Steve Swallow and Hans Ulrik, but that will have to wait for another time. All of the musicians introduced their own pieces, and you could write an essay on each. Smith's 'Ever Neverland' was nice to hear again (23 years after it was written), and his Nordic, Garbarek inflected ballad 'Celtic Warrior' brought out the best in the bassist, whose long drone like improvised intro brought the great Palle Danielsson to mind. The bassist let slip that he was thrilled to be in Edinburgh because of the James Bond connection ('the real James Bond') while introducing his slippery piece 'Sniper', and I also enjoyed his Brecker-ish burner 'Certified'. Ozone played highly charged acoustic piano in the Tyner/Corea tradition, and although I've never really listened closely to him in the past I was suitably impressed. His post 9/11 statement 'Where Do We Go From Here?' was the most intense moment of the evening, an emotionally charged hymn of great intelligence and hope. I'm glad they stuck around to play two sets and an encore, and although logistically difficult given their geographical spread and busy diaries, I hope that they can find a way to record.

A touch of shopping on the Sunday morning and then off to Waverley station (with a heavy heart to be leaving this city mid-festival). We should really have stayed longer and found ways to catch The Thing and Atomic, but so much is packed into the Festival these days that if you're not living in the city you have to be selective. I'll get a run down on Stanton Moore and Elephant9 from my good friend and Edinburgh resident Andrew (he may even Twitter it), but for now that's it for us. The festival has come along way since its mainstream biased origins, although I did catch a significant deviation the year I saw Sun Ra at Meadowbank Sports Hall (1991?), and I can't wait to get back there for more next year. I wonder who Tommy will be be with at The Hub on the first Saturday of August, 2010?

Fred Grand

Anthony Braxton...

2009-07-11T17:01:00.006+01:00

After 7-10 days working on the latest batch of reviews there's been little time for blogging. Some good stuff though - the 'new' Freddie Hubbard live set from 1969 (Blue Note), and Louis Sclavis' killer 'Lost On The Way' (ECM). Getting back into the habit of writing copy every 4 weeks or so is taking time - Jazz Review with its bi-monthly publication was a lot more sedate. So far it's been no problem, and we even managed a weekend away in Glasgow last week to see, erm, The Eagles at Hampden Park. Neil Young would have been far more enticing, but I don't mind at least half a dozen of their 70s hits and they played them all with panache. The tireless guitar heroics of Joe Walsh made it interesting enough musically for even a stuffy jazz critic like me.

I struggle with the idea of live music in stadia, but for certain types of act it works well. A better compromise may be larger indoor arenas (such as the o2) with their better acoustics. Thanks to the iPhone I managed to successfully bid on and win a Jim Pepper CD during the support act, but there will be no attempt at a full review as the music was a bit out of my normal frame of reference and I'm already struggling to write anything meaningful.

All in all it was a nice trip away, and all the more notable for a priceless moment of high surrealism during a visit to Kelvingrove to see Dali's famous 'Crucifiction' painitng. A large procession of bowler hatted, sash and apron wearing Orangemen marching to the accompaniment of helicopter surveillance to drown out their whistles, and mounted Police to pacify the drunken hordes, takes some beating. Dali would surely appreciate the irony of the situation.

Later in the month we'll be back to Edinburgh to catch a few gigs at the annual Festival. Reviews of those shows should appear shortly afterwards, but for now I'll go back to posting old stuff from Jazz Review. This time we'll have some Braxton, as I'm sure most readers of this blog gravitate towards the avant-garde...

ANTHONY BRAXTON
Quartet (Moscow) 2008
LEO RECORDS (CD LR 518)

Composition 367b; Encore.

Anthony Braxton (sopranino/ss/as/cbcl); Taylor Ho Bynum (cor/flhn/t/vtb); Mary Halvorson (elg); Katherine Young (bsn) 29/6/08.

Braxton’s Diamond Curtain Wall Quartet could be exactly the succour that Braxton-ians who failed to get to grips with his Ghost Trance Music have been waiting for. In contrast to the drone-like stasis of his GTM, this music is more expansive in scope. Spanning over 70 minutes, ‘Composition 367b’ is by turns torrential and rarefied. The chamber-like piece has a compositional architecture that nevertheless allows significant space for collective improvisation. Braxton largely sticks to alto-saxophone, his occasionally wayward chops in excellent fettle. Fans of his contrabass clarinet won’t be disappointed either, the lugubrious beast making a cameo appearance at around fifty minutes into the piece. Bynum huffs and puffs in the upper register on assorted brass, but his superficially random flow always finds a logical route back to the musical ‘home’.

Aside from the leader it is perhaps Halvorson’s spiky guitar webs, threading their way through the piece and anchoring the horns, that is the group’s dominant voice. Her distortion drenched chords spring from Derek Bailey’s palette, and I always thought that the late guitarist was one of Braxton’s best foils. This new quartet brings together so many different facets of the leader’s music. Even Braxton’s off-kilter nods to jazz tradition, missing of late, are here if you listen closely. The closing ten minutes dramatically crystallise much of the preceding chaos into a solid form and are a breathtaking sleight of hand. This group may not reach listeners in the same way as the great quartet with Crispell, Dresser and Hemingway, but it opens up some fertile new ground and confirms that Braxton is still a major force to be reckoned with. Sound quality is as good as I’ve heard on any of the saxophonist’s releases, and if you’ve skipped a few dozen of his last discs, now seems like a good time to get back in touch!

Fred Grand

James Finn, Dominic Duval, Warren Smith...

2009-06-18T17:33:00.003+01:00

Here's a review of an interesting disc by a relatively new voice. Old time free-jazz, but played with plenty of conviction, and a good excuse to try out an extended bullfighting metaphor...

JAMES FINN TRIO
Plaza De Toros
CLEAN FEED (CF034CD)

Toreo de Capa; Plaza de Toros; The Phantom Bull of Seville; El Tercio de Varas; Eyes of Angelina; El Tercio de Vanderillas; El Tercio de Muleta; La Estocada; Toro Bravo

James Finn (ts); Dominic Duval (b); Warren Smith (d), (12/03).

The parallels between bull fighting and free jazz are not inconsiderable. Both involve the playing out of a passionate drama, both demand high levels of concentration by the protagonists to avoid unecessary risks, both divide the public, and both can be painful spectator sports. Tenor saxophonist James Finn is a relative newcomer and has escaped my radar until now. A release apiece on both CIMP and Cadence is about all you’ll find of him on disc find at the moment, but Finn seems to be anything but a green gilled newcomer.

Plaza de Toros is his conceptual portrait of the various stages and rituals of Spanish bullfighting. Joined by regular associates Domininc Duval and Warren Smith, the trio are well equipped to negotiate the troughs and peaks of this imaginary spectacle. Finn has a huge tone that has the gruff burred edges of Rollins. His style is far more direct and emotionally immediate however, somewhere between late Coltrane and early Frank Wright. The music is certainly loose, but never out of control. Finn, like an experienced Matador, knows just when to make his move to deliver the coup de grace. At times the trio appear to be shadowing the beast, waiting for the crucial moment to attack with one collective adrenaline surge. The opening ‘Toreo de Capa’ represents the first encounter by the Matador with the bull, the trio setting the scene as if sizing up the task ahead. Duval plays a guitar-like chord formation that recalls Jimmy Garrison, whilst Smith provides sudden flutters of movement. We then go through all of the various stages of the ritual, climaxing in the collective elation of “el Tercio de Vanderillas” - the ultimate confrontation.

By the time we get to “Toro Bravo”, the moment where the courage of both man and beast are applauded by the crowd, we’re left slightly bruised, pondering the drama of a sport without a true winner. Even without the overarching concept this would stand up as quality neo free-jazz, a victory for all three of the strong personalities involved. I often suspect that a lot of fakers are currently playing in this increasingly popular idiom. Happily, Finn doesn’t seem to be one of them. Recommended.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, July 2005)

Tagged for your convenience...

2009-06-09T22:22:00.009+01:00

After a marathon session of site maintenance, all of my posts now boast new tags making it easier for visitors to navigate their way around the blog.

Satisfying an autistic craving and possibly inspired by the recent flourish of creative activity at Apple Inc., I hope that the new system will encourage readers to go back to earlier posts.

As always, comments are welcomed!!

Till Brönner...

2009-06-08T19:09:00.005+01:00

Been busy for the last 10 days with new reviews - rather a lot of them - for Jazz Journal. No longer Jazz Journal International, strap line "The World's Greatest Jazz Magazine - 62nd year of Publication", the June issue of the magazine nevertheless looks good and shows real promise. Some of the changes to layout made by the editor (and a lot more subtle little tweaks to come) make me confident that within 6 months or so it'll have been dragged into this century without losing any of its integrity and all the stronger for it.

Time to continue mining the Jazz Review archives now, this time with a review of a disc by Till Brönner. I'm no great fan, but he's far from repugnant. As one of the editor's wild card picks in the last batch was his latest disc "Rio", it seems like a good time to post this. There was a lot of other good stuff in the envelope - Bobo Stenson & Plunge, Jon Hassell, Marc Sinan/Julia Hülsmann, Air, Roberto Fonseca, Phillip Johnsotn and Seb Pipe if you must know - and all will be published here in due course and after a respectful interval.

More regular updates to follow, along with improved indexing/tagging of the blog too, I hope...

TILL BRÖNNER
Oceana
Verve Records (06025 1708231)

Bumpin’; This Guy’s In Love With You; Love Theme From Chinatown; In My Secret Life; The Peacocks; I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry; Subrosa; Pra Ditzer Adeus; It Never Entered My Mind; River Man; Danny Boy; A Distant Episode; I’ll Never Fall In Love Again; Tarde.

Till Brönner (t/voc); Larry Goldings (p/ky); Gary Foster (as); Dean Parks (g); David Piltch (b); Jay Bellerose (d), Carla Bruni (voc on 4); Madeleine Peyroux (voc on 6); Luciana Souza (voc on 8).
No recording date.

German singer/trumpeter Till Brönner has been occupying the same jazz-pop hinterland as Madeleine Peyroux, Jamie Cullum and Diana Krall for over a decade now. Starting his musical life in thrall to be-bop, Brönner went on to play with Horst Jankowski’s Big Band before cutting a hard bop date that featured the great Ray Brown on bass. It was perhaps his discovery of Chet Baker in the late ‘90s that set him on the course that has led him to Oceana. Brönner now takes his music back to a more traditional jazz-based sound than previous ‘urban’ projects, tempos all falling at well below medium and decidedly ‘after dark’. A string of ‘star’ cameos from Peyroux, model Carla Bruni and Luciana Souza don’t interrupt the mood or flow of what is a masterfully produced ‘mood’ piece from Larry Klein.

Brönner’s trumpet, often harmon-muted, is warm and breathy, his lines displaying a great economy that betray some very well thought out phrasing. The melodic building blocks of each piece are simplicity its self. Take the hypnotic blues vamp that the opening instrumental ‘Bumpin’ is built on, for example. Brönner’s singing voice is rich and engaging, even if his enunciation of English is less than perfect, and the nearest he comes to dropping a clanger is the rather too saccharine and kitsch version of Bacharach’s ‘I’ll Never Fall In Love Again’, which gatecrashes the after hours feel by moving up-tempo.

A delicious reading of Nick Drake’s ‘River Man’ more than makes up for this lapse, and elsewhere Brönner carves some very satisfying instrumentals, the best being ‘Love Theme From Chinatown’ (with a liquid solo from Foster that Art Pepper would have been proud of), Jimmy Rowles’ ‘The Peacocks’, and the slightly country hued ‘A Distant Episode’. Larry Goldings is understated but ‘just so’ throughout, delivering a master class in musical method acting. I’m always prepared to be skeptical about pop masquerading as jazz, but Brönner thankfully has it the other way round, coming to the music on Oceana from very strong jazz roots. Perhaps not one for the absolute purist, but anybody who likes a rich production, and finds enough jazz in Cassandra Wilson’s Blue Notes to satisfy, should warmly receive this impressive disc.

Fred Grand

Robert Mitchell @ The Cluny…

2009-06-01T17:00:00.003+01:00

After his starring role during the visit to Tyneside of US saxophonist Matana Roberts in April, it was with huge anticipation that I looked forward to the visit of Mitchell’s latest band ‘3io’ (sic). His impact had been massive that night – I was aware of his growing reputation but sort of typecast him after hearing his ‘Panacea’ project. I’d even failed to register him on Steve Coleman’s ‘Sonic Language of Myth’, but there was no disguising a major talent when I finally did manage to see him in person. In the challenging context of AACM alumni Roberts’ quartet he projected as a truly gifted improviser with a musical signature that extends all that I consider to be good in jazz. Echoes of Hancock and Tyner bordered swirling vortices of post Taylor abstraction. Throughout it all ran an architectural awareness of form that confirmed he was more than just a mirror of influences.

Whenever I go to The Cluny I remember the early days of no-fi, and think of the occasions I played free-jazz to bewildered alternative rock audiences with Mr Warthog. It has happy memories, and although under new management has managed to keep a lot of its original character. The evening started well. Sitting at a table with Louise, we were catching up with Paul Bream when Mitchell entered the room, walking to the table with his hand outstretched to say ‘Hi, I’m Robert…’. He then proceeded to tell us about his recent trip to Algeria and riff a bit about the gig with Matana, before retreating to the privacy of his dressing room to meditate. If awards were won for being a genuinely nice guy, Mitchell would garner bouquets every day of the week.

The ‘3io’ presented on this tour is actually an unplugged version of Panacea, sharing the same line-up of Mitchell, Mason and Spaven. Their musical reference points still included something decidedly ‘urban’, but even when tacking pieces associated with Massive Attack and Busta Rhymes there was a solid jazz undertow. Opening with a tribute to the late Bheki Mseleku (‘Cycles’), Mitchell patiently built a solo that encapsulated all of the promise I’d been feeling. If I was surprised by anything that followed it was more the restraint than the artistry.

Most of the pieces were taken from last year’s Gilles Peterson Worldwide award winning album ‘The Greater Good’, and now that I’ve had about a week to listen to the recording it’s fair to say that these were extended workouts. Mitchell’s trio would under normal circumstances be an equilateral triangle, but given the great talent of the pianist they inevitably fall into his giant shadow. Mason played stick bass, which sounded less than woody but still held his corner, whilst Spaven’s accents and brushwork were tasteful and apposite. Bill Evans via Hancock and early ‘70s Jarrett was my abiding impression, and if you have the talent and are prepared to bare your soul musically there are few more rewarding territories for a pianist in contemporary jazz. Mitchell has it, and the pieces floated past like cotton wool clouds.

Recounting his experiences in Algeria, playing with local musicians whilst under armed guard, it was clear that music is Mitchell’s passion. Each solo he played saw him dig deep to wring out as much as he could, rather like an athlete always trying to their Personal Best. It is that wholehearted commitment, allied to a fertile imagination, formidable technical facility and deep understanding of form that make him special.

Gilles Peterson’s gongs may not have the clout with traditionalists that, say, a Downbeat Critic's Poll might carry, but surely it’s only a matter of time before his reputation extends further. Sadly the turnout on the night wasn’t great, but that’s a sign of the times. Mitchell has all the ingredients and is at the very least every bit the musical equal of Robert Glasper, who offers a similar take on the present. Somehow Mitchell just needs to inveigle a wider public profile. In a country that celebrates mediocrity as talent, I wish him luck.

Fred Grand.

Jazz Review is morphing...

2009-05-13T16:30:00.010+01:00

In case you haven't yet picked up the new edition of Jazz Journal International, you may not know that the long running magazine has recently merged with Jazz Review. In a crowded market place this makes sense, and given its outstanding longevity and worldwide reputation it also makes sense that JJI should be the dominant partner in the merger.

I hope that something of Jazz Review's probing outlook is retained, and am confident that editor Mark Gilbert is the man to ensure that it does. JJI has a reputation as a mainstream bastion with very few concessions to post bop music, but Mark has consistently championed the contemporary scene and he should be able to provide the right balance.

I cancelled my subscription to JJI in the late '80s with a letter of exasperation pointing to the lack of contemporary coverage, but I can't underestimate the influence the magazine had on me as I found my way around this sometimes daunting and formidable body of historical and living music. I still respect its role in opening my ears to a lot of great artists and recordings, and its scholarly and reverential approach to this great music has never been in doubt.

So, irony of ironies, I now find myself with reviews published in the May edition of a magazine that I once indignantly cancelled a subscription to. Just as well I've mellowed in the last 20 years and now have a more inclusive outlook. Here's hoping I can be part of an exciting new future for a great old institution...

Fred Grand

ICP Orchestra in Edinburgh...

2009-05-11T11:46:00.014+01:00

For those who haven't encountered the ICP Orchestra, how would I best describe their music? Their acronym derives from the description Instant Composers Pool, and to my mind this only goes so far and was probably more pertinent when they started out in Amsterdam in the late '60s. The wholly improvised elements of each concert are fairly few and brief, and what they offer now is a more eclectic amalgam of incongruous juxtapositions. A mischievous undercurrent runs through everything they do, not to mention a potent whiff of absurdity. They'll play off beat jazz from Thelonious Monk and Herbie Nichols in the style of a '20s Swing band before departing into total abstraction and then returning with some traditional Dutch marching band music. A segue into a short section of Viennese 12 tone music, rudely disturbed by Han Bennink jumping up from his drum set to let out a loud Indian war whoop, could well be their next departure. They're not to everybody's taste - subversive, anarchic, funny, and cerebral, or just puerile and predictable? These are the questions I always wrestle with whenever I hear them, but last week's gig finally seemed to offer answers to me!

They came to Edinburgh with their strongest and most stable line-up for years. Wolter Wierbos and Thomas Heberer provided the brass, Ab Baars, Michael Moore and Tobias Delius the reeds, Mary Oliver, Tristan Honsinger and Ernst Glerum the strings, Han Bennink the percussion and Misha Mengelberg (of course) held it all loosely together on piano. The gig started with just Wierbos and the reeds, playing a post serialist improvisation with clarinets before Mengelberg entered and ran through a series of duets. Oliver and Honsinger entered to take the music further into improv/serialism territory, and 15 minutes had passed without a bar of anything recognisable as jazz. Were they playing with the audience, deliberately giving them a hard time for their own amusement?

With the solemnities out of the way and their long hair musicianly credentials firmly demonstrated, the fun began. A string of Mengelberg originals and several warhorses from Monk and Nichols (including '12 Bars' and 'Round Midnight') followed. Bennink left and entered the stage at will, wandering freely around the room and indulging in some of his Dada-ist stunts. Baars and Delius got generous solo space, and Thomas Heberer shone as a truly outstanding talent on the trumpet with no imitators or discernible influences. He has the same oblique approach to building a solo as Micheal Moore, and both men took their moments well and played some incredibly inventive solos.

'Loons' was Louise's verdict, and it'd be hard to disagree with that assessment. The concert hall equivalent of Lars von Trier's 'The Idiots', to play this kind of madcap poker-faced needs a certain amount of detachment. The humour may be hard to get beyond at first, but it should also be evident that these comic devices are not intended to mask any musical shortcomings. Knowing in general terms what the ICP Orchestra are all about gave me useful prior knowledge, but by paying close attention to the detail of the soloists and dynamics of the group work I found something of substance that was extremely rewarding in its self. Mengelberg disappointingly didn't take too much of the spotlight, and it'd have been good to hear him stretch out over a few pieces with Glerum and Bennink. On another occasion he probably would, but the tonal and timbral variety which the strings, brass and reeds offer the pianist from a programmatic perspective allow for an almost bewildering series of possibilities in each show, and the high turnover of ideas is evidence of just how little coasting there is.

This band is packed with large musical personalities and their unique and instantly recognisable voices were both playing to to the crowd's expectations and often exceeding them. Yes, some of the humour is knockabout, and listen to them too often and you could even find it goes stale. I won't go over the top and make parallels with Ellington, who also boasted a stable band of talented individuals who played very singular music, but it would be enough to say that the ICP Orchestra offer something genuinely unique. No matter how far the music breaks down, the group's great strength of a distinctively retro modernism always re-asserts its self, the ICP brand sound fully intact.

Predictable unpredictability or unpredictable predictability? Each can choose depending on whether they're a glass half empty/full type. As with all good things, moderation is essential. I rarely play their recordings and only catch members of the band playing live periodically, but this helps to keep it all fresh. If I see them again in 5 years time that will be enough for me. I know that it'll almost certainly be wonderful evening, and one so unique that only they are capable of providing it. Yes, I lost my skepticism...

Fred Grand

John Abercrombie & Julian Argüelles...

2009-05-08T14:32:00.013+01:00

I'll leave the review of the ICP Orchestra until later because in many ways it will be a lot harder to write up than this pretty straight forward gig last Tuesday at Edinburgh's Queen's Hall. The short break in Edinburgh was just what we needed, and although the weather was poor we had no problem filling the days and the nights. This gig was the second we'd seen in as many evenings, and both made the perfect excuse for a visit to a beautiful city. There may have been no music on the third night, but we were lucky enough to catch a rare cinema screening of Connery as 007 in You Only Live Twice (1967) at The Filmhouse. How apt to catch this ludicrously enjoyable film in Connery's backyard, and I could write an entire post about the antics of a slightly disturbing German cinema-goer who sat in the row in front of ours and began shouting at the top of his voice for the projectionist to turn the sound down as soon as the opening sequences began to roll. Clearly furious at what was in all truth a pretty normal cinema experience, this was an Ernst Blofeld-esque moment to treasure!!

I first saw Argüelles over 20 years ago. Just as I was getting into jazz his career was gathering momentum and he seemed to pop up everywhere - from the big bands of Kenny Wheeler to CMN tours backing up countless visiting Americans. I was in the Midlands as a student in the mid to late 80s and the Wolverhampton bred Argüelles seemed to be so ubiquitous that I barely gave him any thought. Thinking back, I supose I saw in him a quiet guy who could clearly play, serious about his music but not particularly interesting or notable when compared to the many more exciting players I was discovering at the same time.

His brother Steve, a forward looking drummer who went to Paris to seek creative outlets, was always a better proposition to my ears. Neither seem to be particularly active at the moment, and several years have passed since my last encounter with the saxophonist. In the interim he's 'upgraded' and moved to Scotland, as well as spending some time in the US rubbing shoulders with some pretty heavyweight company. The trio of John Abercrombie, Mike Formanek and Tom Rainey he's currently touring with is top notch by any standard, the kind of group capable of going into any contemporary musical terrain - from free floating structures to straight ahead jazz via rock. I was intrigued beforehand at the prospect of seeing jut how the quiet Englishman would mesh with such a forceful bass/drums team, though the guitarist's pastoral streak seemed to offer a more obvious compliment to Argüelles' wispiness.

So how did it all stack up on the night? As unassuming as ever, Argüelles seemed pleased, if a little overawed, to be fronting such a group. He stuck exclusively to tenor, and for the most part played his own compositions, some written especially for the tour. Abercrombie played yet another of his handmade guitars, and Formanek had one of those small half size touring basses that seem to be increasingly popular as airlines get more and more greedy when it comes to carrying heavy and bulky luggage. It cramped his style a little, but I think that the lack of projection was more down to his amp settings and Abercrombie's continual changes of volume than the instrument its self. Rainey was as unpredictably inventive as ever, clear evidence that less is more when you make it count. Put them all together and, for all the bright moments, I'd have to say that we got something significantly less than inspiring.

On record I love Abercrombie and can listen to him for hours. His harmonic abstraction is about as far out as tonal music can be taken and his sound for ECM is always crystalline. Live, I'm yet to have a fully satisfactory experience from the guitarist. Constant knob-twiddling and over use of the effects rack (often within the same solo) make for a disjointed feel. Surely he's spent enough hours playing the guitar at this stage of his career to know what kind of sound he needs for each piece? Whilst Arguelles was silky smooth, Abercrombie often appeared ragged, only really cohering on his own piece 'Line Up' and Cole Porter's "Everything I Love'. He's never a man to take the obvious route from A to B, but a combination of spongy reverb-laden amp settings and Argüelles' harmonically bland music didn't really do him any favours.

Often compared to Elgar because of the very English type of lyricism in Argüelles compositions, I've come to the conclusion that for all his qualities he simply represents a type of jazz that I don't really enjoy. He plays with the speed and precision of a post-Brecker lick machine but his sound has the same ethereal presence as Jan Garbarek, who I love so much. To truly work the folksy ascetic path needs fewer notes to create vast musical spaces. The diametrically opposed fast and flash approach of Brecker school demands muscularity and a certain brash edge. With Argüelles, one competing influence cancels out the other and he ends up with neither. Despite being in the company of an ECM stalwart, a muscular bassist and one of the most inventive drummers you'll find, the results were curiously underwhelming. I'd love to have heard Tommy Smith fronting the same band, and his great musical grounding and situational flexibility would surely have succeeded.

Argüelles is clearly at ease and has offered a consistency within his chosen form of musical expression that cannot be disputed. His tunes are well conceived if slightly unmemorable, and his solos are extremely accurate in their execution. It would be unfair to suggest that he's a musical bore, and there were enough moments in this gig to make it worthwhile. Ultimately I suppose the problem is this - in over 20 years Argüelles' music has simply failed to force a way into my consciousness. It plays around the periphery without ever making the breakthrough. A lot of people in the disappointingly small audience seemed to agree, and there was no clamour for an encore. If the meek are ever to inherit the earth, Argüelles shows that the winning of hearts will perhaps be something he finds far harder than the winning of minds.

Fred Grand

A trip to the coast...

2009-05-02T09:57:00.006+01:00

Some photographs from a recent trip to the coast around Sunderland can be seen here. Excellent light and a stormy sky, and my favourite moss encrusted rocks!!

I'll need to put in a few hours practicing with the controls on the new Leica, and one or two shots needed some adjustments in Lightroom, but overall I'm happy with the compositions, and nothing has been cropped.

Charles McPherson...

2009-05-01T17:15:00.005+01:00

Lots happening this week, so much in fact that I almost forgot the Charles McPherson post. Of course he isn't Scottish, but somewhere in the distant past there's clearly a murky and probably shameful connection. We're off to Scotland for a few days to take in a couple of gigs (reviews to appear later) and some civilised surroundings.

McPherson used to be a regular visitor to the UK and I saw him two or three times with below par pick up bands. Put him in the right company though - as he is here - and he's a different beast.

More on the ICP Orchestra and John Abercrombie next week. Abercrombie - could that be Scottish too...?

CHARLES Mc PHERSON
Live At The Cellar
CELLAR LIVE (CL000726)

Spring Is Here; Illusions In Blue; Blue And Boogie; How Deep Is The Ocean; Manhattan Nocturne; Star Eyes.

Charles McPherson (as); Ross Taggart (p); Jodi Proznick (b); Blaine Wikjord (d).
Recorded July 2002.

It’s impossible to speak of Charles McPherson without at some point making reference to his guiding light, Charlie Parker. A significant association with Charles Mingus would normally be sufficient talking point, but with McPherson everything always seems somehow to get back to Bird. This superb live date recorded at Vancouver’s Cellar Restaurant & Jazz Club on a hot summer night in 2002 strongly suggest that the saxophonist has more to offer than a handful of respectfully memorised and technically daunting licks.

Although aged 63 at the time of the gig, the energy and tangible emotional drive of McPherson’s soloing make an instant impression – the torrents of sweat he reportedly shed on the bandstand will have to be taken on the booklet writer’s word. I’ve seen McPherson play on a number of occasions and know that the make-up of pick-up group can make or break the gig. On an uninspiring night, Parker is the most readily available fallback. A more capable group brings with it the confidence to stretch out and express something more personal, exactly what we find happening here.

Pianist Ross Taggart, who also plays saxophone, seems particularly sensitive to McPherson’s needs, and the collective sound of the trio is more Tyner-Garrison-Jones than anything from Parker’s lifetime. Take McPherson’s composition ‘Illusions In Blue’, for example, a modal waltz where time and harmony are pushed well beyond the customary parameters of bebop. ‘Star Eyes’ may begin with the familiar vamp, but once the theme is dispensed with there is a stridency and angularity to McPherson’ playing that speaks of something far more contemporary than Parker’s controlled approach.

‘Spring Is Here’ and ‘Blue & Boogie’ are both taken at a blistering pace, surely the moments where those rivulets of sweat reached their peak. ‘How Deep Is The Ocean’ reveals a sensitive balladeer, and ‘Manhattan Nocturne’, another McPherson original, is a pleasing contemporary ballad with a noticeable bossa lilt.

I won’t pretend for a moment that he has shed Parker’s influence, but the quality of this band pushes McPherson to reveal a far more individual side than most listeners will have heard hitherto. As convincing a statement of the living spirit of jazz as you’ll hear all year, and conclusive proof that he is also the worthy keeper of a mighty flame.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, April 2005)

Paul Towndrow...

2009-04-19T17:54:00.007+01:00

After an afternoon in the garden spreading bark chippings, it's time I did something a little more relaxing. The blog has again been neglected, but I'm determined to keep posting at least a couple of things a month and get more of my old reviews out there.

Continuing the Scottish Jazz theme, here's a review of a disk by a player who cut his teeth in Scotland before doing a Tommy Smith and crossing the Atlantic to polish up his act. A pretty impressive CD, but not really the breakthrough it may have been as Towndrow is hardly yet a widely acclaimed force. Described in The Guardian as 'a turbo charged amalgam of all your saxophone heroes', you'd be wise self-censor the hyperbole and ask how many other young players could be described in the same way. The dedication to Trevor Taylor (publisher of Avant Magazine, where I started) is noteworthy though, and as a barometer of the state of contemporary jazz today it'll do nicely enough (even if it doesn't have you in raptures).

There'll be more soon as the countdown to our next trip to Edinburgh continues, but I may be struggling to find any more reviews of Scottish artists. Would Charles McPherson be stretching things too far...?

PAUL TOWNDROW
Out Of Town
KEYWORK RECORDS (KWRCD006)

Rubix Cube; Signs Of Life; Tricky Trev; Say As I Do; Cryogenics; High Point; Trivia; East Wall Base.

Paul Towndrow (as/ss); Steve Hamilton (p); Michael Janisch (b); Alyn Cosker (d), (3/05).

With so many promising young talents cutting debut CDs then disappearing as quickly as they emerged, Paul Towndrow has already travelled further than many. A Tommy Smith protégée, Towndrow received his grounding at the Scottish Jazz Institute and the University of Strathclyde, before going to the Boston’s renowned Berklee finishing school for a year. Working with George Garzone and Joe Lovano amongst others, he has also toured with The Bad Plus (playing the music of Ornette Coleman), garnering praise and a smattering of awards along the way.

Out Of Town is his third disc as leader, and although it’s fair to say that he’s yet to make the same headway with the public as Soweto Kinch, this is the kind of accomplished outing that will do his reputation no harm at all. Starting with the edgy ‘Rubix Cube’, Towndrow’s astringent alto rides above Cosker’s free percussive splashes before the piece resolves into a fast post-bop workout. Towndrow generally pushes the envelope further on alto, reserving the soprano for balladry. Doubling on soprano and alto isn’t too common given their different pitching, but Towndrow is equally adept on either. “Signs of Life” sees him pick up the smaller horn to survive the ballad test with ease. The staccato and exaggeratedly Monkish theme of ‘Tricky Trev’, possibly a sly nod to FMR’s Trevor Taylor (who released his second album, Colours) shows a player not given to shirk a technical challenge, whilst “Say As I Do” ventures into stormier waters and recalls Gary Bartz in his prime.

Towndrow’s approach is more trans-atlantic than many UK based players, hardly a trace of pastoralism to be found in his decidedly urban lexicon. Traces of Arthur Blythe and Eric Dolphy surface occasionally, but if you’re looking for a ready comparison, Myron Walden is the closest contemporary I could name. Pianist Steve Hamilton should already be known to most readers via much high profile work on the UK scene. Here his piano has the directness of early Tyner, probing urgently throughout Towndrow’s eight distinctive compositions. Drummer Cosker has the kind of loose limbed unruliness of Jim Black, not a bad thing, whilst bassist Janisch anchors the quartet with his busy bass lines. Regardless of any speculation about where Out Of Town may take Towndrow’s career in the future, this is already interesting music now and you should buy it with confidence.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, September 2005)

Matana Roberts Quartet...

2009-04-05T12:45:00.010+01:00

With roots in Chicago's AACM, alto saxophonist Matana Roberts now bases herself in New York. Although she has an impressive string of recordings behind her already, she was an unknown quantity to me before yesterday's gig at the impressively re-vamped Live Theatre in Newcastle. Drawn by the hype which claimed her as a dead cert to be the next big thing in contemporary jazz, I naturally wanted to hear more. Let's face it , in marketing terms alone a young black female saxophonist with roots in one of the most significant avant-garde firmaments in the music's history is pretty significant. In extra musical terms alone the lure was pretty irresistible, and I arrived with an open mind, ready to be persuaded.

With a band comprising of some of the best talents from the British contemporary scene (Robert Mitchell, Tom Mason and Chris Vatalaro), and a ready made excuse to have a bite to eat at an Italian place on the Quayside before the gig, it all seemed too good for us to miss. As the evening wore on I started to form some conclusions, but more of that later. Initially I was completely disorientated by the new layout at the venue, so it was comforting to hear the customary superlative laden introduction to the band by Jazz North East supremo Chris Yates. Full credit to the organisation for taking a risk on this event, and for securing the use of such a superb facility for the night.

As the music unfolded in the almost ideal surroundings (I say 'almost' because although the electric keyboard laid on for the brilliant pianist Robert Mitchell was superb, you still can't beat the real thing), what I discovered was a confident and engaging young player steeped in Coltrane and with a massive musical debt to Arthur Blythe. Blindfolded, there were many moments durning the two sets when I could have sworn I was listening to big Arthur. Her direct bluesy phrasing, ambiguous intonation and avant garde expressionism are Blythe's unique trademarks, but what individual traits or of musical progressions of her own was she bringing to the table?

Mesmerised by her engaging stage presence and obvious submersion into the music, the respectably sized audience were certainly won over. Perhaps it's a combination of style and content that is responsible for most of the buzz. In terms of sheer virtuosity Mitchell eclipsed anything that Roberts could offer. Perhaps wisely she realised this and gave him a less up front role than you'd expect in a conventional quartet. Nevertheless he's an irrepressible spirit and he managed to probe every gap with often tumultuous results. No, what marked out Roberts most clearly in my mind was not really her playing but her approach to form. As a musical thinker and synthesist she's clearly looking both forwards and back. Her cell-like compositions are rich in detail and deep in their structures. Her homages to inspiring figures from the past are also sincere and personal. A great individual voice she may yet lack, but I'm in no doubt that there's nothing fake about her music.

At one time Roberts may have been seen as an enfant terrible, but almost 40 years after Ornette Coleman proclaimed the amorphous shape of jazz to come, the avant garde is becoming so assimilated into the mainstream that many of the flourishes that once drew public opprobrium are now part of the standard jazz lexicon. Free-time, atonal interplay, extended techniques - all are taught in the conservatory system that Roberts herself came through only relatively recently. What differentiates her from many of her peers is the extent to which she's been shaped by good old fashioned experience on the bandstand. Learning from older generations of musician at unofficial conservatories such as Fred Anderson's Velvet Lounge has done her a power of good, and if some of the hype is undoubtedly over stated, she's still deserving of our consideration.

The reverence she brought to Ellington & Strayhorn's 'Isfahan' was sincere and humble, her deconstruction of a little heard Monk-piece both worthwhile and true to her aesthetic. Whether playing original material or picking gems from other composers to cast in her mould, Roberts brought a mature assurance and authority to the stage and clearly has a good ear and no lack of taste.

Jazz's next big thing? I'd like to think she'll be on the crest of the same wave that William Parker and Matthew Shipp are both riding, and the potential is certainly there. With a winning personality, a hip and highly marketable public profile and enough musical sincerity to win over the sternest of critics, it looks like she'll be making waves around the world that she calls her home for a long time to come.

Fred Grand

Trio AAB...

2009-04-02T07:53:00.005+01:00

As promised after the recent trip to Scotland, here's a review that went into the magazine a few years ago of a CD that features two of the artists we saw in The Voodoo Rooms. My reservations about the blandness of of much of the stuff on the contemporary scene perhaps doesn't come through strongly, perhaps because I was genuinely impressed by the trio's efforts to integrate native folk elements into their music. I was convinced, and given my general skepticism that tells you much...

TRIO AAB
Stranger Things Happen At C
CABER (027)

Ant’s Milk; Station; Oddity; Yet; Sundance; Stuff Swing; The Clock; Fin; Curiouser & Curiouser; Two.

Phil Bancroft (ts, ss); Kevin McKenzie (g); Tom Bancroft (d), perc); Brian Finnegan (whistle).

Fresh from a recent Arts Council Contemporary Music Network tour of England, Trio AAB try something different on this, their third album. Known for post-modernist eclecticism and a puckish sense of humour, their earlier efforts sounded something like Trio Clusone colliding with Frisell/Lovano/Motian, whilst paying homage to Ornette Coleman’s Prime Time. Their approach is rather more subdued on this release, largely due to the presence on five tracks of Celtic whistler Brian Finnegan. He foregrounds a strand in their music that was always present, albeit a little submerged.

The disc’s lively opener ‘Ant’s Milk’, played by just the trio, perfectly illustrates that point, taking a folksy Scottish melodic motif, delivered forcefully on tenor, and placing it above a skittering drum’n’bass inspired rhythmic pattern, further adorned by McKenzie’s intricate harmolodic guitar webs. This is what the trio have built their burgeoning reputation on. ‘Fin’ perhaps gets closest to a true jazz/Celtic folk fusion, with McKenzie switching to acoustic guitar and Tom Bancroft playing bodhran. Brother Phil’s plaintive tenor makes no concessions to the genre, but the result is not dissimilar to some of the best of the music made by Tim Garland’s Lammas. Unlike that group however, the focus is not exclusively Celtic. ‘The Clock’ is more an African sketch (via Don Cherry) than a product of the Glens, though the similarity in timbre between the Irish Whistle and traditional wood flutes is striking. The essential point is that Finnegan sounds at home in the tight-knit unit of Trio AAB, and the music never sounds like a contrived attempt to ‘do’ some heritage.

‘Stranger Things Happen At C’ cleverly avoids a wholesale re-run of the trio’s hitherto successful formula. More a sideways step, it won’t disappoint existing fans precisely because it is such a logical extension of the trio’s long-standing interest in their roots. With a record label that has a goal of documenting jazz particular to its time and place, the Bancroft brothers succeed again with this recommended release.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, April 2003)

Marcin Wasilewski Trio & Nik Bärtsch's Ronin...

2009-03-25T15:53:00.008Z

Last week we took a short but well earned break in Edinburgh from our respective workplaces, and a good relaxing time blessed both with fine weather and live music was enjoyed by us both. Turning our backs on the North East during the weekend of the Gateshead International Jazz Festival was an unintentional statement about how un-alluring this event is becoming, and in any case it was a pleasure to get away and be part of a palpably more refined civilisation. Music certainly wasn't the reason for the trip north, but on the Friday we caught Colin Steele's Melting Pot in the opulent surroundings of the Voodoo Rooms. With a glittery ballroom setting that would probably lend its self well to cabaret, trumpeter Steele led his funky soul-jazz outfit through two sets of high quality bar music. All of the individuals in this long-established group are key figures in Scotland, and I've seen them all playing live many times over the last two decades. It was nevertheless a revelation to hear Steele, Phil Bancroft and Kevin McKenzie playing outside of their normal musical territory. It was also notable that they sounded a hell of a lot more interesting in this genre bound setting than they do playing their own rather dull contemporary stuff. Surely not the impression they intended to make, but being the person I am I noticed it anyway. Bancroft was a revelation with his in the pocket Joe Henderson-esque persona, and even the legendary local songstress Subie Coleman impressed with her earthy soul tinged stylings. In context it was perfect late night music in an ideal venue, and the facts that it was only 10 minutes walk to our hotel and that my good friend Andrew (who lives in the city) joined us made it a great way to spend a Friday night.

Meanwhile back in Gateshead, the one gig I actually wanted to attend was conveniently scheduled for 2:30PM on the final Sunday afternoon. Called simply the ECM double bill, this gig in the intimate setting of The Sage's Hall 2 was a showcase for two of the influential German label's rising stars. First off was the trio led by young Polish pianist Marcin Wasilewski, already high on my list of important contemporary voices after several impressive discs for ECM, including a series of recordings which injected new life into Tomasz Stanko's already brilliant career. Wasilewski put simply is a rare talent. Readers of this blog will probably know already how much I love the raw and passionate sound of ECM from the '70s, and it even takes its name from one of the best albums of that decade. This trio conjured memories of that era, in particular the brilliant string of early discs recorded by what later became Keith Jarrett's 'Standards' trio. Their music carried the same incendiary charge, and you could truly say that they were on, in and around every second of it. The free from ballads had no hint of cliché, even if they did sound unmistakably 'ECM-ish', and you only had to see the studied concentration and pained expressions of the performers to know how much the performance meant to them.

As with all great gigs, Wasilewski left me wanting more, but sadly this was a double bill and there was a strict guillotine. After a short break it was the turn of Swiss pianist Nik Bärtsch to present his own unique brand of electric jazz-rock-funk minimalism ('Zen Funk', as he calls it). The volume was several notches louder than Wasilewski's performance, and the improvisational element of the music several leagues below. Yet it was in a very different way just as impressive a perfomance. Even though I've heard all of Bärtsch's discs, both on ECM and his own label, I was taken aback by the impact his band made performing the music live. In the studio their 'moduls' straddle a fine line between intriguing complexity and tedium, but on stage there was a visual element that brought the music to life. Bathed in the glow of around a dozen strategically placed pink fluorescent neon tubes for much of the show, the visual aspect of the performance certainly appealed to Louise too.

Bassist Björn Meyer may have looked like he was auditioning to replace Flea in the Chilli Peppers, but the truth was that he had a very clearly defined role in this most precise and through composed music. Detailed textures, clockwork precision and suddenly exploding drama inspired by martial arts action were all group priorities asserted at the expense of conventional improvisation. By comparison with the relatively conventional Wasilewski this was the shock of the new. To a slightly lesser extent it left me wanting to hear more, and other than enjoying this event as I did, what really mattered was the indications about the health of ECM records, now in its 40th year and almost as old as me. The label has defined a sound and continues to trade on that sound whilst expanding into new territories. 'Zen Funk' may ultimately be a cul-de-sac, but Wasilewski's musicality was as timeless as it was awe inspiring. That's why this is still a label to watch, and anybody dismissing it as predictable and airbrushed is not only missing the point, but also the music.

Plenty more gigs to come, including another trip to Edinburgh to see the ICP Orchestra in a few weeks time. I'll also dig out an old review of Bancroft and McKenzie and post it later this week...

Fred Grand

Joe McPhee, Curtis Clark and, erm, Laurie Holloway...

2009-02-23T17:34:00.012Z

Normal services begins now. Postings of reviews published during the last decade will be coming at you thick and fast, with more words about more music than anybody will be able to handle. And to show that I mean business, here's another one of the 'Fast Taste' round-up columns. The idea is to collect together about 15 or 20 birds-eye views of new releases not deemed important enough for a full review, but worth bringing to the attention of readers nonetheless.

Some of the music is truly dreadful, and last time I was asked to do the column I was sent almost 50 CDs and still struggled to select enough for the review. Of course there are some gems hidden away here, Curtis Clark and Joe McPhee being the two standouts. Both deserve to be in every serious collection. I also enjoyed reviewing the Laurie Holloway disc, but for very different reasons. It's perhaps a reflection on the nature of the task that I've almost no recollection of ever hearing any of the releases reviewed here. The music that matters to me is another thing altogether, though. Just try stopping me from being excited about the re-issue of this...!!

NOEL AKCHOTE - Sound II (Winter & Winter 910108 2)
The French guitar maverick returns to Winter & Winter for another special project, as radically different to its predecessors as you’d expect from such a restless musical explorer. The “Sonny” in the title is Sonny Sharrock, and although not a composer of any great note, several pieces from his repertoire that clearly bear his unique stamp are covered. We also get a series of short improvisations infused with his spirit but offering a more personal perspective, with Akchote’s guitar being subject to various degrees of de-tuning. Images of Deep South share croppers adorn the lavish booklet, and unexpectedly there is a pervading air of acoustic Americana which somehow manages to link Sharrock to John Fahey. Impressive.

ARI AMBROSE - Waiting (Steeplechase SCCD 31560)
For a man in his early 30’s, Ari Ambrose is not at all what you might expect. Bypassing free and modal jazz, he makes a beeline to the great tenor players of the ‘30s and ‘40s, managing to accommodate little beyond pre-modal Coltrane. Now up to his sixth album as a leader for Steeplechase, he continues the patterns established on earlier outings, interpreting well-worn standards such as ‘East of the Sun’, ‘Without A Song’ and ‘Everything Happens to Me’ in the style of everybody from Lester Young to Don Byas. Interestingly, it is Ambrose’s own compositions that make the most impact, suggesting that a more fruitful source of inspiration for future recordings could well lie within.

JAMIE BAUM - Moving Forward, Standing Still (OMNITONE 15206)
Baum is a New York based flautist/composer operating in that peculiar area where jazz meets contemporary composition. This, her third release, is billed as a work inspired by Stravinsky, Bartok and Ives, amongst others. You might expect a pretty dry and solemn affair, but a cast of some of the city;s brightest contemporary improvisers, including Tom Varner, Drew Gress and Ralph Alessi, manage to steer the project away from anything too rarefied. Baum’s shape-shifting compositions, for all their apparent complexity, all have an underlying swing, melodic roots, dramatic tension and bags of space for the ensemble to cut loose. Quality stuff.

HAN BENNINK with Curtis Clark and Ernst Glerum - Home Safely (FAVORITE 1)
Really a Curtis Clark date, Home Safety is one of the most pleasant surprises I’ve had in a long time. All twelve compositions are from the US emigre pianist’s pen, and the surprise is that both Bennink and Glerum stick to exactly the kind of script they’re usually all too happy to lampoon. Hints of Red Garland and Bill Evans are filtered through modernists such as Kirk Lightsey and Stanley Cowell, all seamlessly absorbed into Clark’s vocabulary. Bennink largely uses brushes, whilst Glerum’s fat bass binds the trio together like glue. Authentic and sincere mainstream jazz, more shocking than any number of tired Bennink pranks could ever be. The only pity is that it’s taken ten years to surface on CD.

TIM BERNE’S BIG SATAN - Souls Saved Hear (THIRSTY EAR 57151)
As Tim Berne gets older his gargantuan compositions seem to be getting shorter and his soloing increasingly concise. Big Satan, a raucous trio consisting of Berne, guitarist Marc Ducret and drummer Tom Rainey, represent the rowdy side of Berne’s personality, and this new release is to my ears even more brutal than the formation’s 1996 debut. Ducret and Berne Scribble aural graffiti over Rainey’s remarkable drumming, which somehow controls the chaos. The pieces are relatively short, and the trend set on recent releases such as ‘The Shell Game’ and ‘Science Friction’ towards a more accessible and groove based music is temporarily reversed in this old school bloodbath. Not an easy listen, but would you ever expect that from Berne?

KENT CARTER STRING TRIO - The Willisau Suites (1984/97) (EMANEM 4105)
The string trio is a format increasingly returned to over the years by improviser and composer Kent Carter. The combination of bass, violin and viola offers a rich tonal palette fully exploited by his chamberish works. Recorded some 13 years apart, both performances share many common features. Although appearing to be heavily scored, Carter's compositions are primarily concerned with developing a coherent musical architecture to incorporate structured improvisation. The bulk of the disc is from 1984 and heavily features Carlos Zingaro’s soaring violin. Owing more to Bartok than Braxton, this work could even prove to be too straight for many improv die-hards. Interesting, but I’d be hard pressed to call it enjoyable.

‘PAPA’ JOHN DeFRANCESCO - Walking Uptown (SAVANT 2060)
‘Papa’ John DeFrancesco once again calls together the clan for another dollop of steaming hot organ jazz. John is a fine player much under the spell of Jimmy Smith. For this date his more famous organist son, Joey, is limited to cameos on trumpet and electric piano, whilst guitarist Johnny Junior adds rich-toned pickings very reminiscent of the great Melvin Sparks. The family is extended to include saxophonist Tim Warfield and drummer Glenn Ferracone, who both get into the spirit as if born in a juke joint. Selections include the classic ‘Sunny’, Curtis Mayfield’s ‘People Get Ready’ and a skirmish with Muddy Water’s ‘Mojo’ that to my ears sounds more like ‘High Heeled Sneakers’. It may not break new ground, but boy is it uplifting!

LAURIE HOLLOWAY - The Piano Player (UNIVERSAL 9867548)
With a long career in entertainment that includes spells on cruise liners, session work, TV music, accompanying many singers and musical direction of stage productions, Holloway now sets out to play some straightforward jazz. The pianist is no newcomer to this arena, having rubbed shoulders with many of the greats of the music, from Clark Terry and JJ Johnson to Stephane Grappelli. Sadly this is the kind of jazz-lite that would go down well , dare I say it, on an ocean liner. Twenty tunes, including a reprise of his original theme tune from ‘Beadle’s About’, are all played with little or no interpretation. I’ve no doubt that Holloway could do more were he to take some basic risks, but this is so polite it’s almost gruesome.

SUSIE IBARRA & MARK DRESSER - Tone Time (WOBBLY RAIL 014)
Ibarra and Dresser are two of the most respected improvisers on today’s scene. Both possess masses of technique, imagination, and distinctly composerly sensibilities. ‘Tone Time’ simply bristles with collective interplay. Throughout the session the two are continually listening to one another, working with rather than against one another. Ibarra has an arsenal of percussion alongside her standard kit, and Dresser often carries the lead instrument duties via nimble use of the bow. Rhythmic blocks, melodic motifs and even shuffling grooves are the raw material. Fifteen finely wrought miniatures, rarely anything less than absorbing, proving that improvisation can be fun.

BIRELLI LAGRENE GYPSY PROJECT - Move (DREYFUS FDM 36668 2)
Whilst Noel Akchote has taken a circuitous route in paying homage to his subject, Lagrene opts for the more well-worn path. As the name of the project suggests, the disc is a return to his duties as keeper of the Django Reinhardt flame. He largely resists the temptations of his youth to dazzle with technique, playing measured and authentic solos on both acoustic and electric guitars. The quartet may feature no violin, but Franck Wolf’s saxophones are a more than adequate foil to Lagrene. The title-track is of course the Denzil Best classic, and elsewhere a mixture of Reinhardt pieces, standards and originals remaining true to the idiom can be found. No surprises, but the flame continues to burn brightly in Lagrene’s dextrous hands.

JOE McPHEE - Oleo (hatOLOGY 579)
I seem to recall this 1982 session being released as ‘Oleo & A Future Retrospective’ in its earlier incarnation, but whatever the title you give it, it’s the self-same music. McPhee is joined by Andre Jaume, Raymond Boni and Francios Mechali in what is a smaller than average Po Music formation. Po Music was a philosophical method of improvisation based on the theories of Edward de Bono, and it seems to have died a death with 1990s ‘Linear B’. Although Boni’s effects rack sounds quite dated at times, nothing can disguise the great beauty of this music. ‘Oleo’ is the jazziest offering in the Po Music series, and also the one that strips McPhee’s process down to its barest essentials. Rarely has chamber jazz sounded better than on this seminal work.

JAMES MOODY - Moody & The Brass Figures (MILESTONE/OJC 1099)
With the exception of one piece taken on flute, this 1966 gem is primarily a showcase for Moody’s dark, muscular tenor. The core quartet of Kenny Barron, Bob Cranshaw and Mel Lewis are augmented on five pieces by a small brass ensemble arranged by Tom McIntosh. Sometimes recalling Gil Evans’ collaborations with Miles, most obviously on Gershwin’s ‘Bess, You Is My Woman Now’, the charts are strikingly unfussy and effective frameworks for Moody. Highlights include the opening ‘Smack-A-Mack’, which has a ‘Sidewinder’ like backbeat, and an unexpectedly free-floating rendition of ‘Au Privave’. A classy production that could easily stand with the best Oliver Nelson or Gerald Wilson from the period - enough said.

GERARDO NUNEZ - Andando El Tempo (ACT 9426 2)
Another helping of world-jazz from the label that seems to do more for this relatively new sub-genre than any other. Andalusian Gerardo Nunez is an acknowledged flamenco master, but this release is not the guitarist’s first foray into the world of jazz. The pieces are as melodic and rhythmically daring as you’d expect whenever flamenco is played, and special guests including saxophonist Peric Sambeat and trumpeter Paolo Fresu add jazz-cred. Don’t expect the blues, but Nunez’s improvisations do from time to time bear a fleeting resemblance to the gypsy jazz tradition. What impresses most is his unwillingness to compromise his own style, forcing others to seek out the common ground between musics. Unlikely to please purists from either camp, this nevertheless deserves a better fate than falling unceremoniously between stools.

WILL VINSON - It’s For You (SIROCCO SJL 1028)
A Londoner currently making a living on the ultra-competitive New York scene, alto and soprano saxophonist Will Vinson will probably be little known outside of the capitol. His angular compositions and unusual harmonic and rhythmic sense superficially resemble Greg Osby. Vinson is in fact far more of a magpie, appropriating elements the wider jazz tradition and combining them into a less schematic approach than the M-Base great. A young New York quintet that includes pianist Aaron Parks (who doubles on Fender Rhodes) and guitarist Sandra Hempel, tackle eight Vinson compositions very much from within the contemporary mainstream. A satisfying debut as leader, but a tad more individuality is required to make Vinson truly stand out from the crowd.

FRANK WESS - The Frank Wess Quartet (PRESTIGE/OJC 1103)
This 1960 recording was originally released as part of Prestige’s ‘Moodsville’ imprint with the intention of providing sophisticated ‘easy listening’ that didn’t compromise the jazz. As you’d expect from a leading light in the reborn Basie band, each performance is delivered with emphatic authority. From the outset the lights are low and the temps slow. Wess carefully selects seven ballads, taking four on flute and three on tenor. Pianist Tommy Flanagan is in his element in this type of setting and enjoys a generous allocation of solo space. Standouts include the blues ‘original’ ‘Rainy Afternoon’, in which the influence of Ben Webster looms large, and a neat arrangement of ‘Star Eyes’. Basking in the full warmth of the legendary Van Gelder sound, this is a thoroughly worthwhile reissue.

SPIKE WILNER - Late Night : Live At Smalls (FRESH SOUND FSNT 187)
Michael ‘Spike’ Wilner is a pianist who has paid a lot of dues in a short space of time. He has worked as house pianist in venues such as the Village Gate and Smalls, studied with notables including Harry Whitaker, Kenny Barron and Walter Davis Jnr, accompanied amongst other Jesse Davis and Maynard Ferguson, and even found time to forge a career in jazz education. Here he gets to be boss, leading his quintet through a varied programme of originals, as well as three pieces by Ellington and Strayhorn. The accent is never far away from the blues, and his hard-swinging group includes saxophonist/flautist Ian Hendrickson Smith and guitarist Yves Brouqui. It won’t set the world on fire, nor will it disappoint. Quietly impressive.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, December 2004)

Steve Grossman Quintet in Newcastle...

2009-02-20T19:38:00.007Z

The rather flat and ambiance-free zone that is the Corner House Hotel provided a pretty apt setting for this gig in so many ways. I went with few illusions, knowing that the Grossman who breathed fire with Elvin Jones, Miles Davis and Stone Alliance in the '70s was a thing of the past. I had my points of reference in the form of those dreary records he made for Dreyfus Jazz in the '90s, and even a gig I saw him play in Glasgow around a decade ago. That night he kept it tight and smouldering, backed by John Hicks, John Webber and Idris Muhammad. The Grossman of that event was a rather gaunt and sickly looking man, looking for all the world like he'd just been released from jail or demobbed from the military, wearing an ill-fitting suit and appearing in desperate need of daylight. The music though needed little stimulus.

I thought it only right to let Louise hear another former Miles Davis sideman, after the Scofield gig we enjoyed last year. Surely it would be great to get so close to such a legend in a such a small performance space? In some ways, yes, because the venue lends its self well to getting up close to the music. Yet for the most part, I was pretty underwhelmed. Grossman is certainly a man who has had his share of health problems. The fast lifestyle during his peak years in the '70s brought with it the usual addictions, and more recently his physical health has been challenged after an accident left him with three badly damaged vertebrae. The Grossman who stepped out to perform in Newcastle last night looked physically as though he was in much better shape than he'd been in Glasgow, but musically his powers had waned considerably. The Glasgow Grossman soloed at length and with lots of fire, whilst the Grossman of last night had the kind of frayed-about-the-edges sound of the late Lester Young and at times you'd even call him stuttering.

The material was hardly fresh either. The first set consisted entirely of bop and early hard bop standards, pre-modal and very, very chordal. To my ears, attuned as they are to almost nothing but free and modal jazz, it came as something of a shock. The second set at least saw the group, basically a quartet led by exciting British trumpeter Damon Brown, warming up and gelling as a unit. By the end of the night they managed to move into the '60s and tackle a modal 'tranish inspired piece ('Take the 'D' Train'), and even the bop somehow seemed to have a bit more spark (Monk's 'I Mean You' was nicely done). Interestingly Brown stuck entirely to cornet, an instrument rarely used in modern jazz by anybody other than Nat Adderley and on the face of it another retro nod. Clifford Brown and Lee Morgan (Joy Spring and Ceora were both part of the set) were Brown's main touchstones however, and both he and drummer Sebastiaan De Krom were for the most part in inspired form and took it to the limit.

Although I love hearing the electric piano in jazz, particularly the Rhodes, I detest modern digital pianos. Once upon a time the Corner House had an old upright, but these days a little Roland digital seems to be on hand whenever a piano is needed. It sounded flat and did Robin Aspland few favours. I know that the economics of providing a decent piano work against most promoters at anything other than concert hall level, but I find it sad when somebody like Grossman visits that there needs to be so many musical compromises made. A shadow of his former self with very little to distinguish him musically, this seemed almost to rub salt into the wounds. That said, I wonder why he's stepped back from the heady music he once made to settle into comfortable mainstream blandness? Younger guys like Eric Alexander do it so much better, and much as I love those Grossman landmarks of the '70s I find it sad to see him like this. Even a Steinway wouldn't have rescued this one.

The musty surroundings, the music of yesteryear, and a one time 'legend' well past his best and clearly in some discomfort whilst performing all came together with a poignant but surely unintended synergy. I'm sure there's a story to tell about the sheer hell Grossman goes through to hold it together and perform, but listening earlier to Stone Alliance at their brilliant best, and to Terra Firma, I have realised that I need to be selective in the memories I keep of this extremely important but for some time lost in the wilderness post-Coltrane voice.

On the plus side it was good to get out, see a full house for Jazz North East, see lots of familiar faces lapping it up, and also to have at least the chance to see somebody of this stature performing on Tyneside somewhere other than at The Sage. I don't know whether to pleased that the audience loved it, or despair at their lack of critical discernment. Yes, let's be charitable...

Fred Grand.

Eric Boeren Quartet...

2009-02-10T19:48:00.014Z

If anybody is left out there, sorry for the lengthy gaps between posts! As devoted followers of these pages and transient rubberneckers alike can't fail to have grasped, life has been disrupted lately by a house move. We've been 'moved in' to the new/old house for over three weeks now, but you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise if you were to take a look at the sheer volume of life detritus still waiting to be unpacked.

Priorities are everything at a time like this, and my CDs are all accessible, the Macs are networked, and the bike is set up in the garage on the static trainer. The cat is back to three meals a day and the wardrobes are filling up (though not with my clothes). We'll get there, and life is getting easier. A very welcome distraction came last Friday in the form of another of Paul Bream's 'On The Outside' series. It was an early return for our stroopwafel munching buddy Wilbert de Joode, playing bass in what could loosely be described as an Ornette Coleman tribute band.

Nominally led by trumpeter Eric Boeren who shared frontline duties with eccentric Amsterdam saxophonist Sean Bergin, the real star of the show was however drummer Paul Lovens, drawn into a jazz context whilst still maintaining his finely honed persona as Aachen's oldest naughty schoolboy. The group's language was very much based around the classic Coleman quartets and trios of the early to mid-'60s. Themes were played precisely and literally before improvisation and deconstruction took over. There was never a time when anybody strayed too far from home, the controlled shapeshifting of the group offering listeners the kind of soft end experimentation accessible to larger than usual numbers.

Perfect, had the room been capable of holding large numbers, and had large numbers shown an inclination to attend on what was a bitterly cold evening. The tiny room was full of period character, as well as bohemian characters, and there was nothing in the evening's music that left me with any feelings of doubt or disappointment. At times Lovens' explosive propulsion bordered on the ridiculous, exaggerating his accents with thrilling lunacy. I've only ever seen him play hard core improv in the past (Schlippenbach Trio), and this came as a breath of fresh air. You could easily imagine Han Bennink doing this kind of stuff, but much as I love him I was glad it was Lovens whose humour is more deadpan than slapstick.

Boeren had a certain amount of charisma without really being a convincing leader. His trumpet lines for me were just a little too convoluted to make sense. Bergin on the other hand showed vast reserves of musicianly skill, and Wilbert played the whole gamut and had a massive role in shaping the directions of each piece. Anybody who hadn't read the flyers might well have thought that this was his band.

Great music, good coffee, a Friday night out for Louise on Newcastle's jumping Quayside, and with this being an exclusive UK show it was also another feather in the cap for my friends at Jazz North East. Next week they've got Steve Grossman, a man who has been pretty much invisible since his stints with Miles and Stone Alliance. I saw him over a decade ago with John Hicks and he played up a storm that night, so I'm sure I'll be reporting back. For now though I'm still thinking about those crazy guys last Friday. I bet they drank the ferry dry on the way home the next evening...

Happy New Year...(at last)

2009-01-16T10:05:00.010Z

It's been a busy few weeks, preparing to move and all that. So far I've neglected not only most of my friends, but also Afric Pepperbird. It's only now that I'm putting that right by contacting folks, and also posting a few special pictures taken during a Riverside walk in Stockton on Boxing Day.

For all the years I've been interested in photography (as an amateur dabbler) I've longed for two brands of camera: Hasselblad and Leica. This Christmas I was fortunate enough to receive a small black Leica D-Lux 3, and I'm absolutely in love with it. Small, sturdy, stylish, functional, expensive and with so much manual control and such superb image quality it's hard to imagine any situation (other than one requiring a large zoom) that would faze it. Oh, and that retro leather case is something else!!

These first efforts show only the potential, and you'll notice they're in the unusual 16:9 widescreen format. I've now adjusted it back to standard 35mm format, and once I get the time (very soon I hope) I'll be experimenting some more. None of the images have been cropped or manipulated in any way.

I may be without broadband for a while, so blogging probably isn't an option in the next 7 days. For now, take a look at these photographs and start saving for a Leica of your own...

John Coltrane...

2008-12-30T20:00:00.009Z

Well, here we are. December not yet done and 10,000 visitors clocked-up without resorting to any desperate measures to lure in the visitors. Considering that this blog is two-and-a-half years old that's not a great amount of 'hits', but concerning its self as it does with some pretty obscure subject matter, and offering no free downloads, it isn't too bad really.

Christmas passed without further worsening of our ailments, and a nice time was had by all. I've just started on the latest batch of reviews for the magazine, and in between times I'm keeping busy building flat-pack furniture from Ikea and setting up data bases for the sheer hell of it on Bento 2. Louise is honing her skills as an electrician, and so far remains unfrazzled.

Amongst the latest batch of CDs to review is a monumental 2CD set by Henry Grimes, playing an uninterrupted bass and violin solo performance lasting almost 3 hours. Giantism, a feat of endurance, and some times hard work for this listener. Neverthless, I like it.

Time to get back to posting more reviews, and to finish off the year I'll go for something a little bit different. The following is a book review, or more accurately two book reviews. Only the Ratliff section was actually published, so here I'm presenting the piece in its entirety, 'for the first time', as they say.

John Coltrane, That should guarantee a few more 'hits'...

Coltrane: The Story Of A Sound
By Ben Ratliff
Hardcover 250pp Faber & Faber; ISBN-13: 978-0-374-12606-3

The John Coltrane Reference
Chris DeVito, Yashuhiro Fujioka, Wolf Schmaler and David Wild and edited by Lewis Porter.
Hardcover 848pp Routledge; ISBN-13: 978-0-415-97755-5

Author Ben Ratliff wasn’t even born when Coltrane died in 1967, aged just 40. Despite already carving out an impressive and enviable niche as a music correspondent for the New York Times, he doesn’t even turn 40 himself until next year. Why is this important? Well, unlike writers who were there to witness Coltrane emerge and evolve, Ratliff has a certain critical distance that allows him to approach the subject in something of a post-Coltrane manner. With so much received wisdom - sometimes bordering on mythology or worship - surrounding this musical giant, a fresh perspective is no bad thing.

Ratliff sets out to tackle much of the froth head-on, offering as many new questions as answers. The book’s title gives a sizeable clue as to its purpose. Although structured chronologically, this is not a conventional biography. For that approach we have Lewis Porter, and if you want something lighter for the coffee table, Ashley Khan’s excellent overview of A Love Supreme is heartily recommended. Ratliff takes a middle road, tracing the evolution of Coltrane’s distinctive sound in what is best described as a critical and cultural study. Loosely structured as a book of two overlapping halves, the first offers a critical skip through Coltrane’s recorded legacy, illuminated with wider reference to external influences on his musical development. The second is devoted to the reception of the music within his lifetime - a journey from frequent hostility towards deification and an all-pervading posthumous influence on countless followers.

Ratliff, as a music critic, is in a descriptive business, and although an engaging writer, he wisely knows that nothing he writes will ever surpass Ira Gitler’s ‘sheets of sound’ to describe the late ‘50s chord stacking. What his book offers in spades is a persuasive discourse, underpinned by diligent research, with many insights into how Coltrane reached his various landmarks - practicing arpeggios from an exercise book written for harpists that were never intended to be played by saxophonists, for example. Coltrane was nothing if not a hard worker, as Ratliff’s often amusing anecdotes about the prodigious practice regime illustrate. The importance of his association with Monk gets a welcome analysis and is often over looked. Compared to the association with Miles Davis that followed, there is little recorded evidence available for us to listen to today despite the many hours they spent together gigging. His description of the hothouse learning that was their residency at The Five Spot in the summer of 1957 is just one of many valuable and memorable sections in the book.

Where I feel that Ratliff sometimes falls down is in the more subjective side of his analysis. His view that it has taken thirty years to achieve a mainstream rapprochement between jazz pre and post ‘New Thing’ is debateable. This may well be true of the American experience, but in Europe it took less than a decade for Jarrett, Garbarek and the nascent ECM sound to reach the popular consciousness. That said, subjectivity goes with the terrain in any critical study, and I’d rather read a book that engages and challenges. By and large, much of what Ratliff presents in this book chimed with me.

A sympathetic treatment of Coltrane’s last years more than compensates for a possible over-concentration on the ‘50s. In fairness to Ratliff, the earlier decade when Coltrane’s sound underwent its biggest growth spurt, moving from a jobbing be-bopper to chord scientist in a relatively short space of time. After ‘Giant Steps’ it became more of a logical process of refinement, moving from modal to free playing with a solid bank of technique to draw on at will. Ratliff ventures the bold working hypothesis that Coltrane’s development can essentially be viewed wholly in terms of sound, a linear progression in which he abandoned musical structure in pursuit of ‘pure sound’. The idea is expounded at length, and although attractive in many ways it seems to me to be an over-imposition of hindsight. I doubt whether Coltrane ever really saw his work in such terms, which is not to say that sound wasn’t important to him. His obsession with mouthpieces attests to his attention to detail, though I suspect that it was something done primarily in the service of music. Viewing later works such as Interstellar Space purely in terms of sound seems to under-appreciate just how much Coltrane’s liberation from conventional musical structures was a logical extension of the old language, a more direct and even democratic form of musical expression.

Possibly because it remains such a controversial period so ripe for re-evaluation, Ratliff is at his best when writing about the period during and after the progressive alienation of Tyner and Jones. His unearthing of many contemporaneously published critical receptions of the ‘New Thing’ is fascinating and gives a better summary of the period than any I’ve previously read. Coltrane’s wanton and self-absorbed abandonment of a considerable body of critically acclaimed work is juxtaposed with insights gained, from Rashied Ali amongst others, of a warm and generous spirit who encouraged a new generation to express themselves through music. In the case of Frank Wright, who could barely play at the time of his first encounter with Coltrane, that generosity comes dangerously close to naivety. Ratliff draws on the social and cultural background, a time of strife and upheaval, and offers many thought provoking explanations. The rumours of Coltrane’s heavy use of LSD in the run up to his death are alluded to, but more on the veracity of those claims and their significance in terms of the trajectory of his music would have been welcome, and may even have supported Ratliff’s notion of a man in pursuit of raw sound-blocks.

Not even setting out to be the definitive Coltrane book, Ratliff very nearly succeeds in achieving this feat. Inevitably for such a project he must draw on biographical material and approach the subject in a linear and narrative style. More scholarly and granular musicological analysis is certainly available elsewhere, but Ratliff’s neat descriptive turn and alternately bold and temperate perspectives make this a provocative but highly readable work. If you’re after a book that deals with both the man and his music, placing it all within a thoroughly researched contextual framework, look no further.

In much the same way as with a telephone directory, The John Coltrane Reference is not a book you could sit down and read from cover to cover. Details of every live performance, broadcast and even media interview that Coltrane gave in his lifetime are all contained within. Edited by Lewis Porter, author of the most highly regarded Coltrane biography to date (John Coltrane: His Life And Music), it makes a great supplement to that work. Sometimes this weighty slab seems to be a series of lists for the sake of lists, bald factual chronology without analysis or comment. Flicking it open even randomly should however reveal fascinating nuggets of information. Did you know that Jack DeJohnette gigged with ‘trane at The Plugged Nickel in 1996, for example? Or that Clark Terry and Coleman Hawkins played opposite Coltrane’s explosive group with Pharoah Sanders when Live at the Village Vanguard Again! was cut? Reprints of contemporaneous reviews remind us of the controversy Coltrane generated at the time and sometimes prove a welcome antidote to the book’s dryness. Rather like Raltliff’s volume, this work offers something unique and not available elsewhere. You could argue that what is essentially a hard copy database may have been better published online, but as with your telephone directory there will almost certainly be times when you’re glad you had it to hand. Not a cheap book by any means, but for your money you’ll get a reassuringly solid volume that is exquisitely produced, lavishly illustrated and thoroughly researched. Unlike Ratliff’s work, this is perhaps a book only for hardcore fans, but a commendable venture nonetheless.

Fred Grand

Anna Brooks...

2008-12-21T22:01:00.009Z

Still short of 10,000 hits, I'm not going to resort to desperate tactics just yet. In fact, in true Afric Pepperbird style, I'm going to be wilfully obscure and post a review of a CD that hardly anybody will be interested in (save for the band members, their friends and their extended families).

That's not to be gratuitously critical of the music here - it's just a sad fact that there are too many records in the world, they're all too easy to download (legally and otherwise), and that to really make an impact you need to hit on something pretty damned exceptional. This record just doesn't cut through, but it'd be churlish to knock them for trying.

With work on the house temporarily suspended and Louise struck down with flu (or something very similar), I'm fortunate enough to be finished with my dose of illness and can sit back to enjoy the new Pendulum box set (with Randy Brecker matching Dave Liebman blow for blow!!) and lots of groovy Strata East rarities. You just can't beat music from the '70s, particularly jazz!!

There'll be no "Merry Christmas" greetings, but I do sincerely wish all of my readers health, good fortune and good luck for 2009...

ANNA BROOKS
My Time
RED KITE (CD 005)

Karmarama; Already There; Beans’ Dreams; By Twelve; Dink No Dink; Bad Hair Day; For My Sins; My Time.

Anna Brooks (as, ss); Alcyona Mick (p); Tim Crampton (g); Dave Foster (b); Carl Hemingsley (d).

Starting to make waves outside of Birmingham, appearances by Anna Brooks’ young quintet at the Cheltenham, Brecon and even Montreux festivals have drawn praise from seasoned and astute listeners. ‘My Time’, the quintet’s debut recording, is ultimately a good account of where British jazz education is taking us. Slick without being terribly heartfelt or gritty, the music makes all the right noises but seems to lack that certain ‘x’ factor which can’t be taught.

Coming in at the soft end of contemporary jazz, simple melodic hooks, lyricism and steady rhythmic pulses are the basis building blocks. As an alto saxophonist, Brooks has a direct style with a tone (though not vocabulary) strongly influenced by contemporary players such as Antonio Hart and Kenny Garrett. Her work on soprano is rather less interesting, showing a tendency to flirt with the lyrical mush of Jazz FM, fortunately staying just the right side of the line for the most part. The eight pieces are all Brooks originals and range from thoughtfully engaging to bland. ‘Karmarama’ is a bright opener that must work well when played live, whilst ‘Already There’ and ‘For My Sins’ are the compositional high spots for me, suggesting that the quintet can get inside of a piece of music and explore its full potential.

Elsewhere, ‘Beans Dreams’ and the title track merely tread water. Alcyona Mick’s tasteful contributions on acoustic piano may be less exciting than her plugged-in work with Chris Bowden, though nevertheless leave a good impression. With conservatory-honed techniques all round you wouldn’t expect much to be lacking in terms of polish, though the licks-based superficiality of some of the playing is a concern. Ultimately, enough still remains to suggest that there’s better to come as this group gain experience and understanding. This will certainly satisfy the group’s growing fan-base for now, and does their reputation no harm.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, May 2004)

Roy Hargrove RH Factor

2008-12-06T12:08:00.005Z

In a shameless attempt to boost the number of hits to this page and reach the magical 10,000 figure by the close of 2008, here's a reprint of a review of a commerically slanted offering by trumpeter Roy Hargrove. The review was the only one I've ever written where I've ever had an "(...Ed)" inserted. As I recall it, the late Richard Cook added a cynical remark about shifting units to my musings about whether or not there'd be a follow-up record made in the same style.

As it turns out Hargrove seems to be back playing more straight-ahead stuff now. Was he simply pitching to the jazz-lite/crossover market in a cynical and exploitative manner, or was it an example of an enlightened record label allowing him artistic freedom?

As long as this post gets me to 10,000 by December 31st I don't really mind, and if it doesn't then the next post may need to resort to placing a reference to 'XXX Porn' in its title to pique the public interest...

ROY HARGROVE & THE RH FACTOR
Hard Groove
VERVE RECORDS (065192 2)

Hard Groove; Common Free Style; I’ll Stay; Interlude; Pastor ‘T’; Poetry; The Joint; Forget Regret; Out Of Town; Liquid Streets; Kwah/Home; How I Know; Juicy; The Stroke.

Roy Hargrove (t); Steve Coleman (as); Keith Anderson (ts); Jacques Schwarz-Bart (ts); Karl Denson (f); Marc Cary (ky); James Poyser (ky); Bobby Sparks (ky); Bernard Wright (ky); Chalmers Alford (g); Cornell Deupree (g); Pino Palladino (b); Reggie Washington (b); M’shell Ndegocello (b); Willie Jones III (d); Jason Thomas (d); Gene Lake (d); Erikah Badu (voc); Q Tip (voc); D’Angelo (voc); Anthony Hamilton (voc); Rene Neufville (voc); Stephanie McKay (voc); Shelby Johnson (voc). Recorded Jan-Feb 2002.

When trumpeter Roy Hargrove burt on to the scene with Diamond In The Rough (BMG) in the late 1980s I felt sure that a new star had been born. A passionate soloist with a bright tone handed down from Clifford Brown through Lee Morgan, Hargrove had the vital spark missing in many of his more fastidiously retro contemporaries. A switch to Verve produced a somewhat disappointing string of concept-driven recordings that somehow stalled that early promise.

The latest attempt to place Hargrove back on the map involves both a musical change of tack and a radical image makeover. Now sporting dreads and calling on the services of string of stars from the worlds of rap and R&B, we are presented with the RH Factor. Regardless of how the industry comes to terms with the declining interest in jazz, the music of Hard Groove will be what most interests JR readers. Those hoping for a return to his post-hard bop roots will find little succour. Others more at ease with the latter phases of Miles’ career, or Steve Coleman’s mature M-Base sound, will almost certainly enjoy this vibrant new release. ‘Hard Groove’ is a kaleidoscope of contemporary black musical styles reaching far beyond any narrow views of jazz. We get hip hop, soul balladry and driving locked-groove funk - but always enough jazz to satisfy on the more cerebral level. “I’ll Stay” is a slice of organ-drenched soul from the Funkadelic songbook, and it’s nice to see that Ken Vandermark isn’t the only person to realise the jazz potential of Clinton and Hazel’s music.

Amongst many other highlights are ‘Pastor T’, which places Hargrove’s searing trumpet right up front, and ‘Out of Town’ which has a dazzling Steve Coleman cameo. Whether or not this disc hits the intended targets of the brash marketing strategy behind it, Hargrove’s statement succeeds artistically, and places him within the same populist musical continuum that Mile embraced after his Jimi Hendrix and Sly Stone epiphanies. The decision whether or not to continue in this vein may ultimately belong more with Verve than Hargrove. For now though, Hard Groove deserves to provide pleasure to those masses for whom it is unashamedly intended.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, August 2003)

Vacances Parisienne....

2008-11-27T11:58:00.006Z

Rather than expound about all of the wonderful things that we found and did in Paris, here's a link to the web album which gives a small flavour of things...

Stephan Oliva...

2008-11-21T20:12:00.005Z

As we're off to Paris for a few days I thought I'd keep things ticking over with another review posting. The titles of the compositions are appropriately Gallic, though the music its self is more culturally ambiguous. My onion analogy wasn't a subconscious bit of stereotyping, but instead of looking for non-existent connections in an increasingly dull pre-amble, I'll stop and get on with packing those suitcases.

Au revoir...

STEPHAN OLIVA
Itineraire Imaginaire
SKETCH (333042)

Preface; Marche Antique; Resonance D’un Silence; Spirales; Cercle Ouvert; Partance Imobile; Cecile Seute; Mouvement Interpromtu; Paradox; Tango Indigo; Passage En Marge; Ellipse; Postface.

Matthieu Donarier (ss); Jean-Marc Foltz (cl, bcl); Stephan Oliva (p); Bruno Chevillon (b); Nicholas Larmignat (d).
Recorded January 2004.

Pianist/composer Stephan Oliva seems inexplicably to have made fewer waves outside of his native France than such contemporaries as Bojan Z, Sophia Domancich or Francois Raulin. This, his fourth release as a leader, follows an earlier Sketch disc with a cast that included Marc Ducret and Paul Rogers playing personal variations on the music of Lennie Tristano. For Itineraire Imaginaire, it is the Garbarek-Stenson quartet, or Jarrett’s ‘Scandinavian’ quartet of the mid-70s that are the most obvious musical touchstones. Oliva, however, belongs to the same ‘new wave’ of French jazz as Louis Sclavis, and his melding of classical structures with jazz and folk music gives a readily identifiable French feel to the disc. Unlike Sclavis, whose music tends to be tight and chamber-ish, Oliva is not afraid to branch out into far more turbulent waters.

This disc is structured in a way that showcases his control of extreme dynamics - long improvisation based ensemble workouts interleaved by through-composed miniatures featuring different combinations of the members of his quintet. It is in these short pieces that Oliva’s classical leanings come very much to the fore, with the Viennese School and even the spatial characteristics of composer Morton Feldman coming to mind. To convincingly combine these diverse elements would be a dangerous high-wire act for a lesser musician, yet Oliva has little difficulty reconciling such disparate elements without sounding archly eclectic. ‘Spirales’ is a fine case in point - collective improvisation taken to the cusp of meltdown with only the faintest centrifugal pull before the group converge, control the velocity and spiral out with a tricky unison theme. The same approach surfaces on ‘Ellipse’, percussive piano and pulse-drumming giving way to to intricate ensemble work within more tranquil pools. Bruno Chevillon, anchor of many of Louis Sclavis’ best groups, comes through loud and clear, and the detail of Larmignat’s drumming is so well captured that you can vividly differentiate each individual skin stroke. Folt’s clarinets tend towards the strangulated goose vocabulary of mainstream European improvised music, his rather brutal approach providing a foil for Donarier’s liquid soprano.

Knotty and demanding music which rather like an onion reveals more layers the deeper you probe. Euro-jazz aficionados shouldn’t hesitate to seek out this fine release.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, September 2004)

Herbie Hancock @ The Sage...

2008-11-15T13:35:00.015Z

This time my blogging is a little closer to the event than last, in fact you could almost say it's on time. Just like Herbie, starting dead on 7:30 and playing one set lasting almost 3 hours. That would make the £30.00 ticket price seem reasonable if quantity was your only touchstone, but more importantly to me the quality of the music matched the epic duration. As Louise reminded me, the cost wasn't even that great when compared to some of the prices she's paid for 70's rock legends plying their trade in arenas and stadia. If anybody in jazz can legitimately charge a mint it would have to be Hancock, fresh off the back of his sublime Grammy winning Joni Mitchell project, and he certainly knows how to put on a show!

The music was all familiar stuff and spanned his career - from Cantaloupe Island to Rock It. With a new retrospective collection out in the shops it made sense to backtrack, and with so many great compositions to re-visit he could have written three or four tasty set lists. The make-up of his new sextet made the night's exercises all the more intriguing. Individually they're all known quantities, and most of them I'd seen before in other contexts. Terence Blanchard was a slick as ever and is surely one of the best trumpeters of today's contemporary mainstream. It was good to hear him play electric trumpet during the Headhunters pieces, and although it all goes back to Miles (via Eddie Henderson), the effects he used reminded me a lot of Palle Mikkelborg. Bassist James Genus (mainly playing fatback electric funk) and drummer Kendrick Scott (amazing on the 17 bar Seven Teens) were a tight knit team plucked from Blanchard's band, but the real wild cards were Swiss harmonica genius Gregoire Maret and African guitarist Lionel Loueke, whose idiosyncratic techniques brought many unexpected twists.

Impressive as Loueke was, Maret was the real star of the show. When Hancock genially introduced the band before the show Louise was skeptical about what a harmonica player could possibly bring to the table. I'd heard him before and I knew - he's one of the most creative and exciting soloists on any instrument currently playing jazz! His speed and fluency belies the difficulties of handling a pocket sized instrument, but put him on any instrument - saxophone for the sake of argument - and he'd still be a world class improviser. The way he blended with Hancock's electric keyboards on a the haunting rendition of Speak Like A Child truly made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and as we walked back to the car enduring an icy blast from the Tyne, it was Maret we were both talking about.

Last but not least we should mention Herbie. Turning 70 in less than two years, he looks as young as ever and is still a formidable showman. Forget his crowd pleasing guitar synth stunts on Rock It though, because fun as they were they were hardly typical of a night in which he dug deep at the piano stool. His solo Dolphin Dance was exquisite, and he was probably the one who ripped more shreds out of Loueke's fiendish Seven Teens than anybody. His intelligent use of keyboards were a reminder of what a pioneer he was in that field, and it being a retrospective kind of show it was good to feel the width of his output too.

This was living music, certainly not as great or as organic as Wayne Shorter's current quartet. If I was magically given the facility for time travel I'd have preferred to hear any one of theses pieces played as they were new and fresh. As that's not an option open to me or anybody else it's important to be realistic. What I heard last night was far from a let down. Last time I saw Herbie before last night's show was just after Miles' death, in a specially convened quintet with Shorter, Carter, Williams and Roney. The same comments would have applied to that gig - oozing class and satisfyingly free of stale odours, but not fresh enough for real greatness...

Fred Grand

Patricia Barber...

2008-11-10T16:59:00.006Z

Just this week I've started to make good on a promise I made in a review written over four years ago - to catch up on Patricia Barber's back catalogue.

My relationship to song-based music has been distant for a few years, but recently I've been listening to more and more singers and singer/songwriters - from Nina Simone to Neil Young, Cassandra Wilson to Nick Drake. That's probably due in no small part to the influence of Louise's tastes. Musical cross-pollination of the healthiest kind, you could say. I liked Barber's music as soon as I heard it, and my recent binge on her output confirms those first impressions...

PATRICIA BARBER
Live: A Fortnight In France
Blue Note Records (78214 2)

Gotcha; Dansons Le Giguel; Crash; Laura; Pieces; Blue Prelude; Witchcraft; Norwegian Wood; Whiteworld; Call Me.

Patricia Barber (voc/p); Neal Alger (g); Michael Arnopol (b); Eric Montzka (d).
Recorded 2004.

Although I’ve been aware of Barber’s growing reputation, and received repeated recommendations from friends over the last ten years or so, my reluctance to embrace vocalists has until now denied me the pleasure. More fool me, for Barber has the kind of dark and liquid-smooth alto voice, free of irritating tics and mannerisms, that I can listen to all day long. Throughout the course of this superb collection of songs, recorded live in three French cities, Barber not only impresses as a sophisticated and engaging singer-songwriter, but also as a pianist more than capable of holding her own should she make the unlikely decision never to sing again.

Her laconic wit and razor-sharp insights into all manner of familiar phenomena place her in the company of Mose Allison, and her approach to performance is both contemporary yet unmistakably an extension of the tradition. The material comprises a mix of originals and covers. Two instrumentals, the grooving ‘Crash’ and conventionally swinging ‘Witchcraft’ sit comfortably alongside a haunting and free-floating rendition of the Johnny Mercer classic ‘Laura’, an expansive deconstruction of Lennon and McCartney’s ‘Norwegian Wood’ and a fistful of originals that simply ooze class. ‘Danson La Giguel’ from her 2002 album Verse boasts lyrics, sung in French, by poet Paul Verlaine, whilst ‘Whiteworld’, based on the character oedipus from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphosis’ pits biting satire on contemporary trends in imperialism against an irresistibly funky backdrop. How many jazz vocalists could you name with such a wide scope?

The closing ‘Call Me’, despite being an almost throwaway encore, knocks spots off Eliane Elias’ overproduced version, reviewed earlier this year. Throughout these ten performances the musicianship is irreproachable and would carry even the lamest of voices, the band negotiating many stylistic challenges to meet Barber’s tirelessly adventurous approach. Guitarist Alger gets most of the solo space and has a contemporary palette that spikes up the music, whilst bassist Michael Arnopol and drummer Eric Montzka are almost telepathically conjoined, having played this gig so many times before. Established fans will welcome this document of a confident performer in her natural environment, whilst initiates like myself should take the cue to catch up with a back catalogue already stretching to eight recordings. Better late than never for me, and a prospect to relish!

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, November 2004)

Billy Cobham's Asère @ The Gala, Durham

2008-11-05T22:44:00.008Z

It seems to defeat the idea of blogging to post a review of a gig that took place almost 2 weeks ago. Isn't this culture supposed to be all about the moment, a commentary on daily life shortly after it has happened and while the experiences are fresh in the mind?

Afric Pepperbird has never been like that though, and much of its focus is on presenting reviews from the distant past that I've had published in various magazines. My ethics stop me from posting recently published pieces - the magazines pay me for my words and deserve the right to sell the publication to subscribers and on the news stands. Few people, if any, will buy the magazine solely to read my pieces, but a lengthy period of grace before anything appears here is only right, allowing time for the publication to be read, filed away, despatched to a bin or buried in a landfill site. For those reasons then, most of what you read here tends to be 'old' news.

What that has to do with my thoughts on a gig that I went to see in my home town almost two weeks ago should be about to become apparent. Unlike the Brad Mehldau gig, I didn't feel compelled to write anything much about Billy Cobham after the event. He's never been a drummer I've liked very much, and in many ways I find his musical aesthetics highly vulgar. It would have been churlish to sit at home and miss the event, complaining so often as I do about the lack of 'culture' hereabouts. With its Latin Jazz leanings I also thought that his latest band Asère would be a good show to take Louise to see. Not too deep in her family tree are South American roots, and I was right to make the effort to book tickets. For the most part it turned out to be a night of surprisingly traditional Cuban music that we both enjoyed, with perhaps less jazz than I'd have expected but lots of appeal for other reasons. After some reflection and a few weeks spent listening to some other Cuban music, the time has come to preserve my thoughts for posterity.

Of course Cobham looked slightly preposterous, a small figure sitting Tom Thumb-like behind an unfeasibly large drum kit. With so much percussion already in his band he still had to have more things at his disposal to hit than the the rest of the group put together. The line-up was unusual to say the least - only one brass or woodwind instrument, two acoustic guitars, no keyboards, electric bass, a gnome-like singer and three percussionists. Trumpeter Michel Padron was confident in the upper register, had a nice relaxed and bluesy approach to phrasing and a modern harmonic palette. He carried most of the serious solo work, although it was fair to say that this group was less about jazz in the head-solos-head sense than it was about playing traditional and rhythmically complex Cuban music. The twin guitarists were nice contrasts, Andres Valdes' flamenco stylings being more impressive on the night than Alejandro Albar's sometimes laboured steel strung offerings.

The band played two sets and the material was varied enough to avoid feeling same-y. Some of the more contemporary feeling pieces grabbed me more than the Buena Vista-like material, but the best moments actually turned out to be the most musically pared down. A percussion trio, with Cobham leaving his drum throne and sitting out front to play small hand persussion, could have been a snapshot from an imagined Havana street corner. Cobham of course had his moments of glory behind the kit, but by and large it was ego-less music and he kept a low profile. He started the second set with a showy but well controlled drum solo. Whereas most drummers could have been said to have used the entire kit at such a moment, with a kit of Cobham-like proportions he'd be lucky if he covered half of it. As his moment in the spotlight faded, he was then joined by bass and finally conga to build an impressive improvised duo-cum-trio.

As the set wore on a more pronounced party mood descended, the vocalist determined to get the theatre crowd out of their seats and onto their feet. Spurred on by his lewd hip-thrusts the crowd responded, and although I normally take a dim view of such frivolity at what should be a solemn creative rite, it was actually pretty good fun. Our next gig will be Herbie Hancock's new sextet in a week or so, and all things being equal a pretty prompt blog should follow. We're still busy as busy can be rushing round doing assorted chores, but along with taking some time out to do my latest batch of reviews for the magazine I'm determined not to let the blog fall too far behind.

Come on Herbie, don't let us down...

Fred Grand

Brad Mehldau @ The Sage...

2008-10-20T19:04:00.015+01:00

I'm a bit of a latecomer to the Mehldau phenomenon. For a good few years I was put off even the most cursory of investigations of his talents by the effusive, gushing hyperbole John Fordham wrote about the pianist in The Guardian every Friday. Even when Mehldau wasn't being reviewed, the artist under Fordham's scrutiny always ended up being compared to him (in terms of that general all-round genius quotient). Was Fordham on commission?

My interest should have been pricked, but I'm a stubborn and curmudgeonly type, happier celebrating an artist in obscurity than going with the easy option. It took two closely linked writing assignments, reviewing Metheny/Mehldau and Chris Cheek's Blues Cruise, to get me on board. It later transpired that my usually reliable attention to detail had failed to log that Mehldau was the highlight of Joshua Redman's highly listenable Moodswing, a personal favourite of recent times. The clues were being assembled in my mind you might say, but I'm too slow off the mark to be a real master sleuth. More like Columbo coming back for 'just one more thing' with a knowing glint in his eye, perhaps.

With hindsight Fordham had a point. Let's just say it now. He was right! Mehldau plays with unerring taste and deceptive complexity. His playing around the beat, harmonic tensions and amazingly strong left hand mark him out from the pack. I'm now fully on board and have just about caught up with my investigation of his expanding but still manageable discography. Impressive as it is, I always like to hear people live for confirmation of their talents, and all I needed was a chance to go and see for myself. With a top class international venue like The Sage on the doorstep it was inevitable that I wouldn't have to wait for very long.

That chance came on Saturday, so enough of this already tedious pre-amble. The first pleasant surprise was that the organisers had chosen to put the gig on in the smaller and more intimate Hall Two. A really nice medium-sized room, our seats overlooked the stage from right to left and were elevated enough to give an impression of being on stage with the trio.

The next remarkable thing was the trio's new line-up. Gone is Jorge Rossy and in comes Chick Corea's erstwhile drummer Jeff Ballard. I know my Canadian drummer friend Gregg Brennan was a bit sniffy about the change and is very much a Rossy man. By instinct I'm skeptical about Corea when it comes to matters of taste and judgement, but it has to be said that Ballard fitted perfectly with the trio's high levels of connectedness. Our seats overlooked his kit and it was great to see all of his many percussive details performed in such forensic detail. Using high measures of restraint Ballard coped admirably with the trio's re-constructionist aesthetic, suspending ego to just follow the music. Louise, in her continuing jazz-awareness building, was impressed with his use of 'woolly pom-pom sticks'. Ballard was a winner!!

The material was a mix of Mehldau originals, old standards and what he almost certainly hopes will be the standards of tomorrow. Opening with two untitled originals, a state of Jarrett-like trance was quickly induced. Samba e Amor was a finely wrought Latin excursion, then the trio opened up on Sonny Rollins' Airegin, trading fours in time honoured fashion. A slow examination of I Cover The Waterfront gave space for a long unaccompanied Mehldau arabesque, and again Jarrett came to mind. Unlike Jarrett, Mehldau doesn't gurn or grunt. His improvisations are no less wide ranging or rigorous, but accessibility comes easily. He has the rare gift of being an uncompromising but easy to digest musician.

Another remarkable Mehldau talent is his ability to pluck contemporary material and adapt it for improvisation. On Saturday there was no Radiohead, Nick Drake or Oasis on offer, but his choice of Sufjan Stevens' Holland was inspired. Stevens is an American folksinger/songwriter who draws on electronica and the post-rock scene, Unknown to me, I quickly sought out his Greetings From Michigan: The Great Lakes State so that I could hear the original. Its repetitive but beguiling harmonic cycle was emphasised and underpinned by bassist Larry Grenadier's richly woody bass-slides. The piece instantly drew me in was the highlight of an uncommonly brilliant performance, probably for both of us.

Encores tend to be obligatory and sometimes annoying, but on Saturday the only complaint I could have was that Mehldau only offered us one of them. A performance of concentrated improvisation of this quality, pushing the two hour mark, can't be bad really. Next up for us is Billy Cobham's Cuban band Asere on Thursday night. Let's hope my decision to buy tickets wasn't a Corea-esque lapse in judgement. Oh, and just one more thing...

Larry Coryell...

2008-10-05T13:03:00.006+01:00

In between cooling down after a bike ride and getting ready to do a shift of painting at the house, I thought there'd be time for another posting. I'm choosing this one for two reasons. Firstly there's another eBay connection - the only time I've ever had negative feedback was when I sold this disc. Apparently the buyer didn't like the fact that it was a 'promo', despite it being marked as such in my listing. 'Learn to read', I say.

The other reason is that I've been listening to a bit more rock guitar after seeing David Gilmour's Live In Gdansk on BBC4 the other week. How simply my mind works when you understand the connections. Next I'll be using the same reasoning to justify buying a Fender Stratocaster, if I don't curb my enthusiasms...

LARRY CORYELL with Victor Bailey and Lenny White
Electric
CHESKY RECORDS (JD 308)

Wolfbane; BB Blues; So What; Sex Machine; Black Dog; Footprints; Born Under A Bad Sign; Low Blow; Rhapsody & Blues.

Larry Coryell (g); Victor Bailey (elb); Lenny White (d). (No date available).

Described by Chesky as a collection of jazz, blues and rock ‘anthems’, Electric may seem on paper to be a recipe for lunk-headed fusion excess. This, however, is Larry Coryell, the man who emerged in the mid ‘60s playing forward looking music with Herbie Mann, Chico Hamilton and Gary Burton. His career may have taken a few questionable latin-tinged turns since then, but recent groups with John Hicks have revealed a clever and powerful player within familiar post-bop territory, reminding the jazz world that he’s still here.

The presence of White (ex Return To Forever) and Bailey (ex Weather Report) naturally makes Electric far more plugged-in by comparison. Yet despite obvious rock sensibilities, Coryell still reaches out to the core jazz audience with an ease comparable to John Scofield. The funky lope of Miles’ “So What”, for example, is a radical transformation, but one which shouldn’t offend too many purists. Coryell’s long melodic lines and burnished tone stand favourable comparison with Sco’s formidable benchmark, but that shouldn’t be any great surprise given his pedigree.

Some unexpected choices of material - Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” and Sly Stone’s “Sex Machine” to name but two - keep things sounding fresh. It’s certainly fair to say that exploration of nuances isn’t really within this trio’s brief, but the light and shade of “Black Dog” and neat segue into Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints” show that the trio are taking their business seriously. The shards of noise opening “Born Under A Bad Sign” aren’t the only passages to recall the grunge of Nels Cline’s Singers , though much of the material on Electric would probably a tad passé for listeners with a post-punk perspective. Think of the ‘80’s Gramavision discs of Scofield or John McLaughlin’s Free Spirits and you’ll understand where Electric is pitched.

This is the type of fusion that retains the grit of rock without adopting any of the gloss of overproduced fusion, or sacrificing the swing and spontaneity of jazz. Special mention must be made of Chesky’s use of cutting edge studio technology, giving a deep sound stage comparable to the best SACD releases. Against expectations, Electric is highly recommended.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, March 2006)

Gordon Beck...

2008-09-29T13:08:00.004+01:00

Other than to take a swipe at the parsimonious folks at the pretentiously titled 'Art of Life' records, I don't know why I'm giving this disc the oxygen of publicity for the second time. As you'll see I gave it a fair review, but when I tried to reduce my mountain of unwanted CDs by selling it on eBay, the record label reported me to the organisation and pulled the plug on the listing.

It's about time they learned the twin arts of appreciation and gratitude in times when the market for CDs is shrinking every day. Anybody want a free copy of this 'recommended' CD?

GORDON BECK QUARTET
Seven Steps To Heaven
Art Of Life Records (AL1018-2)

Backwards Bop; Gone With The Wind; JuJu; Isotope; Quiet Now; Solar; Seven Steps To Heaven

Pierrick Pedron (as); Gordon Beck (p); Bruno Rousselet (b); Philippe Soirat (d)
Recorded February 2005.

From Tubby Hayes to Phil Woods, Allan Holdsworth to Lena Horne, Gordon Beck’s 40-plus years in top-flight music are connected by a consistently propulsive style and unwavering faith in the core values of jazz. Whilst Stan Tracey may be better known and Howard Riley push more boundaries, Beck is surely Britain’s greatest pianist in the modern mainstream. A career spent largely as a freelance is testament to that, his CV showing a player coveted by many high profile employers.

Seven Steps To Heaven, recorded live in Paris in February 2005, sees Beck as leader, and his employees all are comfortably above par. The pianist has worked on many occasions with the bass/drums team of Rousselet and Soirat, even recording with them previously, but it is the four tracks with guest saxophonist Pierrick Pedron that really grab the attention here. Pedron fits perfectly into Beck’s post-bop agenda, playing with a wispy tone that sometimes recalls Art Pepper (‘Gone With The Wind’), though more often Bird via the swagger of Jackie McLean.

The material, including Wayne Shorter’s ‘JuJu’ and Joe Henderson’s ‘Isotope’ neatly matches the quartet’s ambitions, and is read with great reverence and a large amount of literalism. The quartet’s raison d’etre is to precisely to operate within this idiom, and they stick to the brief with considerable aplomb. Listening to the opener, Billy Childs’ ‘Backward Bop’, it is true to say that it could have been recorded at any time from 1960 to date. Pedron sits out on both this piece and Isotope’, whilst Denny Zeitlin’s ‘Quiet Now’, a Beck solo not recorded at these sessions, serves as a fitting interlude in a largely high octane gig. With the four quartet pieces pushing or exceeding the 10-minute mark, there’s both room to stretch out and insufficient time to waste. Beck and Pedron are always the principle soloists, but Rousselet and Soirat get their space, and ‘trading fours’ is another tradition that the quartet observes.

Just as Beck’s richly deserved reputation has been garnered by working with established figures, it is hoped Pedron’s bright talent gets a similar shin-up from this engagement. The way in which the pair burn through ‘Solar’ suggests that as long as the public has an appetite for this music, belying time and place, the saxophonist’s place is assured. Recommended.

Fred Grand

Branford Marsalis...

2008-09-14T12:20:00.004+01:00

Time to go back to posting some CD reviews on a more regular basis. Things are still busy here, but after taking some time out because of a bad back/sciatica I'm getting back into the swing of things. I've even done my first bike ride in almost three weeks this morning, and it was incredibly hard work. Almost as hard as painting a house from top to bottom, which is what Louise is doing as I write this. Have I no shame?

Anyway, let's start this mini re-launch with a big one - a Branford Marsalis compilation. The Marsalis family tend to divide opinion, but most can agree that Branford is different to his pious and over-zealous siblings. Developing over the last two decades into a fine and forthright player with an open-minded outlook, he's now pushing the boundaries into late 'trane territory, and he's a damn sight more interesting than many of vaunted today's tenors.

Those collaborations with Sting are long in the past, and if you think Branford is tainted by them (from a purist's perspective) listen to some of his more recent quartet discs - Braggtown would be as good as any.

Easy to take for granted simply because he's so famous, I nevertheless like him...

BRANFORD MARSALIS
The Steep Anthology
Columbia Legacy (512913-2)

Doctone; Maria; Royal Garden Blues; Evidence; Cain & Abel; Spartacus; No Backstage Pass; Sidney In Da Haus; The Dark Keys; Three Little Words.

Branford Marsalis (ss, ts) with various groups including Kenny Kirkland, Wynton Marsalis, Ellis Marsalis, Jeff “Tain” Watts, Larry Willis and Milt Hinton.
Recorded 1983 to 1996.

It’s easy to take Branford Marsalis for granted, easier still to overlook just how unique and commanding a voice he has on any of his chosen horns. Before I was even sent this new Columbia anthology I’d started to revisit his back catalogue and reappraise his work. His long flowing lines, deft rhythmic gymnastics, speed of thought, keen awareness of history, warm rounded tone and unerring ability to swing have put him at the top of his profession.

The ten selections on ‘The Steep Anthology’ (Steepy is a frequently self-referenced nickname) cheekily include a previously unissued live track, ‘Evidence’, presumably to entice completists to buy it. A ploy that would surely work for a Coltrane anthology, in Marsalis’ case it reeks of commercial opportunism, Columbia cashing in on a former star who has since flown the nest. Yet with a career spanning 15 years at the label, it’s hard to argue against the need for this type of release. It’s also hard to argue with the choices of music, though just as easy to pick alternative tracks from his consistently fine albums.

Limitations on playing time presumably de-selected his most free-flowing work with the piano-less trio that cut ‘Bloomington’ and ‘The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born’, and the sublime but lengthy reading of ‘The Peacocks’ from ‘Renaissance’ doesn’t make it either. With an emphasis on acoustic jazz we’re also denied ‘The Blackwidow Blues’ from ‘Buckshot LeFonque’, but for a fully rounded view we may have had to suffer some of his work with Sting, so let’s not complain.

Time may yet prove that Branford has taken the music in a more sustainable direction than his younger trumpet playing brother, and I certainly wish he were as influential on saxophonists as the all pervasive Michael Brecker. It’s time we all reappraised Branford, and this anthology is the ideal excuse. If you already have the albums on your shelves, simply dust off those scratched ‘80s jewel boxes, sit down with open ears, and appreciate his awesome talent.

Fred Grand
(Jazz Review, May 2004)

Arild Andersen @ The Hub, Edinburgh

2008-08-24T17:53:00.023+01:00

Thanks to Apple I can now easily edit and blog from my palm, wherever I happen to be. My temporary tardiness is the only inhibitor, with blogging slipping lower and lower down the list of priorities for now. All of that's of necessity though, with so much to do at the moment. Once the house stuff is sorted, Afric Pepperbird will be back to normal very quickly.

To make up for the dearth of recent postings, here's a very late review of a gig I was lucky enough to catch at the beginning of the month. It was part of a very nice weekend away with Louise in Edinburgh, taking in the shops, culture and food. We both very much enjoyed simply 'being' there in a great old city, with so much of real value and quality. Compared to the parochial backwaters we normally inhabit, where you expect to run into a brontosaurus every time you go to the supermarket, it was like being in another world, and it's fair to say that the music enhanced rather than detracted from the weekend (the measure of a gig involving jazz and a relatively recent convert).

It was good to catch up with longstanding friend Andrew at the gig too. He lives, works, and raises a family in the city, and although he's a highly discerning jazz fiend, he's always been a bit of a Euro-sceptic in terms of his likes and dislikes. Would an Arild Andersen gig with Tommy Smith be a good idea, given his preference hot, spicy and American music? Bland Eurojazz, as glacial as the fjord laden vistas which inspire it could be as welcome as a shark in a swimming pool. With the main attraction being a rare UK gig by one of Norway's Big Four, and yours truly being the keeper of a blog that takes its name from one of their high watermarks, attendance was pretty much mandatory for all concerned.

Any anxieties were strictly unnecessary as it happened. Although this was very much Arild Andersen's trio, the music was mid-lantic and fiery enough to keep Andrew happy. The folkish themes appealed to Louise. The group's turn-on-a-dime shapeshifting agility was breathtaking, and needless to say it's one of the best gigs I've been at for some time. All of this sounds too much like a conclusion before I've even described the gig, so I suppose it's time to scratch my head and think back to events more than three weeks previous...

The group, a new-ish working unit emerging out of Andersen's association with Tommy Smith, has re-energised the music of both men, moving it in an unexpected though not illogical direction. A session has already been recorded and is slated for a November release by ECM, so you'll soon be able to judge for yourselves. Edinburgh's favourite '80s fashion victim (and by now undoubtedly a national treasure) Tommy Smith brought his regular drummer Alyn Cosker as the third side of the triangle. I gather that Andersen used a different drummer in earlier incarnations of the unit, and much was made during the gig of the fact that this was the debut outing of a brand new formation. Despite the lack of even a rehearsal, there were no signs of any unintentional raggedness, and it'll be interesting to see whether or not Cosker keeps the gig.

Covering ground from Tryptykon to sTar, echoes of Garbarek were never far away. Folkish melodies floated over brooding ethereal pulses, sometimes giving way to fusion-esque and Eastern grooves. There were many overtly jazzy passages, from lyrical balladry to post 'Trane jazz burnouts. Smith excelled in this context, melding his very Scottish musical sensibilities with all that Stateside Berklee training in an entirely convincing way. Yet the entire trio seamlessly blended a number of styles and influences into the performance. Avant-garde ECM stylings of the '70s, ancient folk melodies, post-'trane skronk and rhythms with a contemporary edge could all be heard hat various times during their 90 minute performance.

The music was the perfect synthesis of Andersen old and new. He's one of the few bassists in the world commanding enough to lead a trio such as this from the centre of the stage, and there was no doubting that this was his group, despite its very democratic nature. His huge sound was almost always enhanced when he reached for the effects rack, creating multi-track basslines to play over in much the same way as Eberhard Weber. Fragments of Ayler's 'Ghosts' were unmistakable during one of his absorbing arco introductions, and with Smith so ready to push his usual envelope, this trio really could take you anywhere. Cosker enjoys a good rumpus, but his sensitive colourations brought something ego-less and very, very right to the group sound.

Now it's probably time to reach some kind of conclusion. A very special evening in a beautiful old venue perched beneath the Castle Esplanade, followed by some mild South Indian cuisine. Perhaps too mild? Let's not be harsh, and it hardly matters as these things are all relative.

All in all the gig was just one part of a weekend that was a pleasure in it's entirety. The only frustrations came in having to keep the iPhone 3G I'd acquired earlier in the day in its box until we got home. Hard to do, but also very necessary. Oh, and then there were the hideous reminders of the new football season on the train on the way back the next day from the pack of barely human (and inevitably drunken) 'fans', who ruined the journey for many families and holiday makers who simply didn't need them at all. Such is life.

My internet connection is likely to be disrupted this week, but with my new Apple device fully up and running I can still blog. Whether or not I do depends on progress elsewhere, and with my living room gutted in readiness for a new floor which is being laid later this week it may be next weekend before I add anything else. I'm also doing the 'Fast Taste' round-up column for the magazine this issue, though only one CD has appeared as yet. That leaves me with a tough decision whether or not to write 2000 words about Zoe Rahman, but I hope to slip in a review of Michael Adkins brilliant new CD on hatOLOGY records, sent to me after reading this very page. Thanks for that Michael, and I will get something sorted soon...