Charlie Parker/Dizzie Gillespie... Horace Silver/Jazz Messengers... Jim Hall/Bill Evans... Cecil Taylor

To be or not to bop (with apologies to Babs Gonzales...)


Bird and Diz at Carnegie Hall, 1947... Bop in the joy spring of its years... This is 'Confirmation' – of their greatness (I know - but - couldn't resist). Opening on drums, then the familiar theme in unison at a sprightly tempo. Bird up first, sounding relaxed, sudden flurries of notes breaking the line. Tone drenched in the blues, such a human sound. The double-tempo he frequently launches into and stays in for long stretches is stunning. Yet the tune is never far away – this is not just virtuoso playing over the changes. Gillespie next – soaring upwards to descend in rapid runs, brash, brassy and beautiful. John Lewis takes a solo from somewhere upstate by the muffled sound of it – way off-mike. Bass up briefly then theme and out. Rapturous applause etc... and rightly so. Glory Days.

Bop – to the birth of hard bop. Returning to the blues as grounding (although Bird was never more than a flicker away from them). Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers. Their first incarnation as a small group - Silver was to leave and Art Blakey take over the leadership. From 1955, playing his composition the ever-catchy 'Doodlin.' Silver takes the first solo, funky figures, a facet of his style that perhaps Bobby Timmons would inherit when he joined the band in 1958. Think Moanin' etc... Much dropping of 'g's, I'm thinkin'... Tenor next, Hank Mobley, sounding calm, a little detached almost, although spiking his passage with blues figures. Kenny Dorham then, as Silver plays an almost boogie woogie train figure underneath for the first chorus and a few bars into the second. Elegant and spacious trumpet. Blakey takes a piece, some hard hitting on and off the beat as his cymbals mark the movement through. Funky.

Onwards a few years – back to the cool, say, in 1962. Jim Hall and Bill Evans take a look at 'I'm getting sentimental over you.' Slow yet supple, weaving round each other in an intricate coupling, seamlessly moving between accompaniment and solo – blurring the partition, actually while not getting in each other's way - guitar and piano can create a muddy sound if the participants are not very careful. Here? Two hearts beating as one... well, I'm in a sentimental mood myself today... Intelligent and moving.

Cecil Taylor at the old johanna live and solo from the Montreux Jazz Festival in 1974, this is 'After All (Fifth Movement).' Repeating an opening chordal figure to suddenly spray a higher flash of notes across the deeper contrast. More complex harmonic terrain than above – yet still you find a bluesy snatch here and there that links to the tradition. Behind it all, however abstracted or disguised, the rhythms of jazz. European conservatory meets the Afro-American tradition (Cecil uses call and response as a major performative vehicle). Towards the end, thoughtful, rhapsodic and perhaps not so far removed from Bill Evans above...

A final thought on criticism - what it should be, as opposed to what it frequently has been and is, in all disciplines:

'Admit what you can’t conceal,' [Randall] Jarrell concludes in "The Age of Criticism," 'that criticism is no more than (and no less than) the helpful remarks and the thoughtful and disinterested judgment of a reader, a loving and experienced and able reader, but only a reader. . . . Remember that you can never be more than the staircase to the monument, the guide to the gallery, the telescope through which the children see the stars. At your best you make people see what they might never have seen without you; but they must always forget you in what they see.' (From here... ).

Not sure about the 'experienced and able' (or 'disinterested' - music is too intense an experience for me) but certainly 'loving' in my own case... and hopefully 'helpful' occasionally... I love the image of 'the staircase to the monument.' As a renegade from academe, how true those words are and how many critical 'monuments' exist, that should be knocked down for 'staircases.'

Oo-pop-a-da - to end where we started, with Babs Gonzales...




Charlie Parker (as) Dizzie Gillespie (t) John Lewis (p) Al McKibbon (b) Joe Harris (d)
Confirmation
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Horace Silver and the Jazz Messengers
Horace Silver (p) Kenny Dorham (t) Hank Mobley (ts) Doug Watkins (b) Art Blakey (d)
Doodlin'
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Jim Hall (g) Bill Evans (p)
I'm getting sentimental over you
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Cecil Taylor (p)
After All (Fifth Movement)
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Ummm... and eartrip magazine...

I was on the way out tonight (to hear some music, not in the sense of snuffing it, you understand) but when I stuck my head out the door something - guilt at lack of blogging or the cold wind or the gust of rain coming in on the breeze from Lincolnshire - or a combo of these factors - brought me back in again. I suppose one develops a certain blogging fatigue anyway - my posting have been somewhat sporadic for a while now. But one makes the effort - the rewards outweigh the hassle overall and I blog because I both enjoy it and (I think) benefit from the discipline... I had intended to post a review of the Pete Morton gig last week but did not want to duplicate a lot of what I said here in a long, rambling writeup sometime back so - back-burnered slightly, as I realised I could write about Pete from a different and broader angle concerning his relationship to contemporary acoustic 'folk' music which would cover some wider issues I have been concerned with. Soon, hopefully...

Some mp3s to follow later - but first a mention of a new venture - I received a mail alerting me to the first issue of 'eartrip' magazine, available here (scroll down) as a PDF download. Anyone interested in 'Jazz, Improv, Other' should grab this asap and support the venture -a lot of hard work has obviously gone into its production. Mucho informative and entertaining stuff delivered with energy and love - and I've only scratched the surface so far. Congratulations to David Grundy for getting this out...

So: search for the corkscrew and start uploading the music...

Pete Morton...

Recovering from last night - a brilliant gig (as ever - can't remember a bad one in over twenty years) by old favourite Pete Morton - review to follow, no doubt...

Art Tatum... James Emery... Oliver Nelson... Amina Claudine Myers... Bessie Smith

Art Tatum steps elegantly into 'A Foggy Day,' followed by the sour-sweet alto of Bennie Carter. From the album 'Tatum Group Masterpieces, Volume One,' a classic track. Carter is magisterial, imperious even, one of the great saxophonists in jazz, yet one perhaps overshadowed by Bird and Johnny Hodges on alto, perhaps because of his long time spent in the studios as an in-demand arranger. The evidence for his real standing speaks out in the theme statements and solos... Good overview of his astoundingly long career here...
Tatum still causes critical splits, with some not able to enter his sound-world of overwhelming, swirling, rapidfire piano. Me – I love him. You can hear his stride influences clearly here, overlaid with diamond-sharp runs and harmonic disruptions, Carter, however, well able to stand up to the gale force. Louis Bellson keeps it ticking over. I've often seen Tatum as the father, not just of the bop piano players, but of free jazz firebrand Cecil Taylor. Max Roach makes the same point, sort of:

'“Now you have people... who preserve the tradition. And then there are people who push forward, who perpetuate the continuum by trying out things. Cecil Taylor is more like Art Tatum than a guy who plays like Tatum. It may not always come off, but that’s what creativity’s about. .' (From here... )

Swooning, vertiginous bass introduces James Emery's '4 Quartets Fugitive Items,' taken from the 2003 release, 'Transformations.' Throughout, the bass keeps a strong jazz reference going underneath the more 'third-stream' writing and European nuances. Emery has a unique touch on guitar, spidering his finger-buster angular runs throughout in sudden dashes of cool brilliance. An interesting composition which allows space for Tony Coe, Franz Kogelman and the bass player, Peter Herbert to demonstrate their ease of performance with this complex music. I originally came across James Emery with the String Trio of New York way back – with Billy Bang and John Lindberg – playing similar chamber jazz – with a similar steely heart.

Oliver Nelson and company play 'The Meeting,' from the album 'Screamin' the Blues.' A soul-jazz feel to the swaying gospel roll and 'amen' cadences. Richard Williams chokes out some fierce trumpet. Then - Eric Dolphy, who especially on these earlier sides always sounds in a different galaxy compared to everyone else. Wyands takes a nifty solo without slipping too much into Timmons-y cliches y'all. Nelson next, that wide-open vibrato to the fore. I always find his playing intriguing in that he doesn't play complex lines particularly (and how to compete with the Immortal Eric?) yet he threads them through on interesting logic and tonal bending. Somewhat more interesting 1961 take on more rootsy jazz than many others - lifted by Dolphy's wild angularities...

Amina Claudine Myers channelling Bessie Smith. McBee opens here on fierce bass evoking earlier vocalised guitar styles ending on a repeating note that strums into a guitar-like backing as Myers enters vocally with the first chorus of 'Jailhouse Blues. Third chorus she brings in sharp piano chords and the drums kick in. She lets loose with a hard-hitting stomp of a solo that references the tradition – octave trills out of Hines, classic blues figures. Going out with the return of the bass – the star really of the track, although Amina does justice to a difficult task, given that her voice, good as it is, does not carry the massive emotional weight of the Mighty Bessie...

... who can be heard here doing the original. Power and soul...


Art Tatum
Art Tatum (p) Benny Carter as) Louis Bellson (d)
A Foggy Day
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James Emery
James Emery (g) Tony Coe (ts, cl) Franz Koglmann (fl-h) Peter Herbert (b)
4 Quartets Fugitive Items
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Oliver Nelson (ts) Richard Williams (t) Eric Dolphy (as) Richard Wyands (p) George Duvivier (b) Roy Haynes (d)
The Meetin'
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Amina Claudine Myers
Amina Claudine Myers (v, p) Cecil McBee (b) Jimmy Lovelace (d)
Jailhouse Blues
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Bessie Smith
Jailhouse Blues
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Berlin in April...

I'm in Berlin from April 17 through to 23 - any info on music/art scene welcome... improv/noise - you know what I like (as the Big Bopper once said...). Music up soon - funeral of much-loved family member later today so things unpredictable in their timing...

Pee Wee Russell... Peter Brotzmann/William Parker/Hamid Drake

Pee Wee Russell playing 'Minglewood,' a relaxed 12 bar blues. Opens on a hoarse chorus from clarinet – choked right back – spurred by old school skittering brushes from Osie Johnson. Buck delivers some elegant trumpet over a clarinet obligato. Pee Wee returns solo, higher and less granular yet no less angular -a diagonal querulousness that ends on a breathy deep goodbye. Buck back, subtley placed notes, in the next chorus hitting some higher stuff to raise the emotion with the register. Flanagan drops easily into mainstream mode, a spare line of some elegance. Back to the emphysema-tone of Russell for a chorus before Buck rejoins him, now muted for some old time wa wa, as they ride out together. Sublime...

Peter Brotzmann with William Parker and Hamid Drake: 'Never run but go 3.' Opens oddly enough in the same hoarse querulous register that Pee Wee sporadically employs above but with more aggression as Parker riffs and Drake gets almost calypso-ey... High-register squalls over hammered toms alternate with Brotz drops down into deeper chesty vocalised horn. Tough shit lightened and opened out at the bottom by the clattery surging drums. Parker hits a fast four in places to spring things along as the tenor splurts out a dense cloud of notes, all the way through varying his rhythms and lines – pro-active linchpin. Sudden drop out – sorry about that...


In the Videodrome...

Pee Wee and Ruby at Newport...

Brotz on tarogato...

For the sheer fun of it - George Clinton and co...


Pee Wee Russell
Pee Wee Russell (cl) Buck Clayton (t) Tommy Flanagan (p) Wendell Marshall (b) Osie Johnson (d)
Englewood
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Peter Brotzmann/William Parker/Hamid Drake
Peter Brotzmann (ts, tar, cl) William Parker (b, Doussn'gouni) Hamid Drake (d)
Never run but go 3
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Review: The Loughborough Folk Festival, 7-9 March, 2008

Festivals are always an interesting exercise in selectivity – choosing whom you are going to see invariably means that you will miss out on someone – But I picked a reasonably balanced path through the overall fandango, given I had other time constraints which meant that I would miss some of the earlier daily sessions and the last sunday night concert. Starting with Friday night, the inaugural performance of the Loughborough Folk Festival with Tom and Gren – favouritism, yes, we know them well... Followed by a fringe session at the Pack Horse, an open evening for a variety of mainly traditional performers - a wild night. Saturday – a quick look at Lisa Knapp before going to another superb singaround and the big concert of the evening – Waterson/Carthy, via some impromptu sideshows scattered around the building. Sunday – watched the local massed Morris crews before The Young Coppers backed with Shirley Collins' stunning 'America over the water.' Met a lot of old friends, made a couple of new ones. Drank too much, had a good time overall. Much food for thought, about what folk music is now in this country, what it was – and what it could be... More detailed breakdown below...




















Friday

No choice. Had to go and support the boys who are steadily making ground in their professional career. Tom Kitching and Gren Bartley, relaxed and on fine form in what was (potentially) quite an intimidating scenario as festival openers. A big crowd, who enjoyed their set – an interesting mix of traditional and contemporary musics and songs, drawing on a wide range of sources, American, English and beyond, plus self-composed material. I saw them only a couple of weeks ago on a club gig and was struck by the distance they had travelled in such a short space of time. Gren's voice has got much stronger and, by keeping to his own natural timbres, he is able to handle potentially awkward emotional/cultural areas – American blues and gospel - with a certain finesse. For example, his English voice gives their version of a raw American gospel song like Blind Willie Johnson's 'You're going to need somebody on your bond' a certain detachment that helps to set up a channel to the original rather than trying to copy it by crossing over into 'blackface' - which would be disastrous. Not sure why this works – but it does, as if by stepping back into your own musical culture you can better find a more accurate resonation with the source material. Tom Kitching's violin playing is expressive and strong throughout, the perfect fiery accompaniment to Gren's cool fast-picking guitar and vocals – plus his announcements are witty and he seems at ease with the audience. A demonstration of how to blend old and new succesfully...

Over to the Pack Horse for Frank's singaround session – one of those nights that make a festival special, where you can go off official ground and into a less regulated space. A chaotic evening – in the best sense as the room was jammed throughout by an audience good-naturedly accepting the cramped conditions especially at the back. A large battery of performers, high standard throughout, during which the local singers more than held their own with the visitors, both grand and anonymous. Overwhelmingly traditional – which is unusual for the broad church of the Pack Horse – but the atmosphere generated overcame the narrowing of genres. A great night, much talked about over the coming weekend. Frank came up trumps (again) with a lot of thought and hard work gone in beforehand that was masked by an easy conviviality and a light hand. Plus: the new regime at the Pack helps to make the pub a more pleasant place to visit than it has been for a long, long time... A quick shout to Theresa, the landlady, for her ongoing hospitality.





















Saturday

Unfortunately I missed the Distil showcase – would have been interested to check this out, the various collaborations and commissions involving electronics etc... But I went briefly to see Lisa Knapp – and left after about three numbers. Nice voice, but a shade too light for my taste and the performance did not hit any emotional resonators. The sound did not help either. No question of musical ability... worthy - but dull... Maybe she would be better heard in a more intimate club situation? . The problem being, I suppose, for a festival as overwhelmingly dedicated to orthodox traditional singing, if they brought in some of the current movers and shakers who are revitalising folk musics here and in the U.S.A., these may well be too far out for the audience they have, given the overall demographics of the musical comfort zone. Maybe not - it would be nice to see how Directing Hand, say, or Hush Arbors, to name but two at random, would fare in this situation...

The above comments do not mean that I have a dislike of traditional music. Far from it...the next session I attended was the 'Loughborough Tradition' singaround in the council chamber (so this is where they plan the wasting my council tax? Hmmm... Empty my bins weekly, you bastards!). Will Noble and John Cocking, the Orchard Family, Jeff Wesley were truly outstanding – although, and just by a whisker – Mike Waterson and Louie Killen took the overall prize for me. But this was not a contest - they were all good. The understated power and subtle emotions grabbed me mightily. But, hey, next time – turn the overhead searchlights off! An awareness of more professional lighting would have helped the overall ambiance. Too piercing, man, to quote the immortal Stan Freberg... Still, a masterclass...

So at last to Waterson-Carthy..... The Watersons were an old love of mine from when they first surfaced, way back in the folk day. Because he has been around for so long as well, Carthy you can take for granted - at your peril. Although he looked rough and was, apparently, suffering from a bad cold (much resort to tissues throughout!), in tandem with his wife and the younger duo - Saul Rose and Liza – he delivered a performance that was professional in the best sense of accomplished rather than slick, and powerfully emotional. They seemed to be firing on all cylinders – Norma Waterson and her blow-torch of a voice with her daughter alongside giving out the high-octane full-tilt folk boogie – interesting to see the familial similarity in hand gestures as they both reached out expansively, music of the body and heart as much as the brain, as if the songs they delivered were so deeply felt and embedded that they were being wrenched out of their physical being. Operating on a continuum that signalled back to the beginnings of the revival on the hotwire to the tradition – and forward in gestures of renewal - this was, yes a sentimental night on one level – but also fresh, vibrant – and fun, proving what can be achieved still in the mainstream of English folk. One number – missed the title, but chorus 'I wish that the war was over' - showed how an old song can still have relevance. The contemporary point wasn't jabbed in your face in a party-political or sectarian way but understated – which made it all the more poignant. The instrumentals were swung and bounced mightily – Saul Rose making a strong contribution here especially, (as he did throughout) coupled to Liza's violin, Carthy Senior's subtle guitar weaving in and out and solid underneath as and when necessary. And the vocals – Martin, assured and understated yet coming from deep inside the songs, buttressed by his wife and daughter - when Norma slides up from a note, in a melisma worthy of that other great diva Aretha – or Vanessa Bell Armstrong - she raises up the hairs on the back of my neck – ditto her daughter. Passionate heartfelt music.

Sunday














Arrived to check out the Morris crew – a colourful sight on a bright, sharp Sunday afternoon. They were led up the street by a posse of young skate-boarders which made me smile – I wondered if they were part of the processional dance, Skate Morris anyone? Skate Morris punks? Some local Arts initiative to involve da local youth? Perhaps not... But a nice thought... Launching a new genre of music as well?




If the Watersons were one of the definitive groups that inculcated an interest in folk music for me back in the sixties, so too were their southern counterparts, the Copper Family. Both of whom proved, it seemed, that despite the overall cultural sidelining of traditional music in England, some musical strands, frayed though they may well have been, still linked us to previous generations. In 2008, to see these sons and daughter – the Young Coppers - continue in their family singing tradition was fascinating – and moving. It may seem almost perverse that, in a crowded and mainly urban country, so many of our rural songs, as exemplified by the Coppers collection, still speak to us so clearly. Maybe this is more my hearing of it, filtered through those earlier memories, but these songs evoke a particular place as well as time – an area that admittedly I know well, which gives added resonance. A superb and relaxed performance that overrode some small criticisms. It was pointed out to me, for example, by a friend and local singer that six voices might clutter the songs' harmonies– a valid observation, although I think that, in places, the lines benefited from that added thickening because of the relative youth of the singers. And any overlap gave the music a spontaneous edge, a loose feeling - almost harmolodic, to use a term from another genre - that benefits this style of singing. Anyway, age and experience will broaden and deepen the timbres to the warm depths and breadths of their forefathers. And the occasional mistake actually added to the easy manner in which material was introduced and set in personal and broader context – not a dry lecture on 'heritage' but a demonstration of persistence. And a subtle frame for what much 'folk music' once was – people gathered to sing in an unselfconscious way. These songs are not ready to die yet...

The Sussex link continued... Actually discovered by Bob Copper and following his family today, Shirley Collins delivered her extraordinary show 'America over the Water,' an account of her journey with Alan Lomax through America in 1959, the readings from her book interlaced with images and extracts from the original recordings, aided by actor Pip Barnes, who ventriloquised the various American voices superbly. Clocking in at nearly two hours, including an interval, it meant that if I stayed I would miss a large chunk of Eliza Carthy's set. No contest. Eliza I could no doubt see again – Shirley Collins is a unique presence, my favourite singer in the English tradition and a sharp-witted commentator on the same. Which meant there was no way I would move before the end as I witnessed a superb evocation of rural America at the end of the fifties: closed and often isolated communities of poor but culturally and politically dominant whites and segregated blacks, suspicious of each other (de jure segregation may have been ended in 1954 with the Supreme Court ruling on Brown v Board of Education but...); the strong role of religion in both, ironically not acting as a bridge between them; the fervour of both spiritual and secular forces expressed through their musics; the songs that could be traced back to the British Isles and to Africa. The sheer weirdness... Heady stuff. A history lesson from one of the stalwarts of the English revival whose good-humoured forward-looking presence back then acted as a strong counterbalance to the bossy purist commissars of the day. Some marvellous musical examples spiced the show, further illustrated by a haunting succession of black and white photographs – over all of which, arguably, towered the majestic presence of Fred McDowell, a star in the making. My friend Nigel scored a coup – by getting the Shirley Collins autograph on his old vinyl copy of Fred McDowell recordings... reproduced below.














Heady stuff, vastly enjoyable and much future food for thought, delivered with charm, grace and a sparkling humour...

Overall, then, a fascinating weekend, the traditional bias counterbalanced by the quality of the music and overall good humour. The venue was up for the task, the staff helpful, the catering and drinks side reasonably priced and available all hours, the one session I attended off-site was a great success. Hats off to the organisers. And I may have invented a new genre: Skate Punk Morris. Wonder if Jello Biafra is interested in a new project?

Soon come...

The Loughborough Folk Festival review is almost finished - delays due to extreme fatigue this week -the usual nonsense. But here is a taster, three photos from the weekend...

Slight Return... John Butcher/Xavier Charles/Axel Dorner... George Clinton/Funkadelic

Back from the Loughborough Folk Festival somewhat late last night... now recovering from the weekend fun... review and photos to follow... later... The album cover above resembles the way my head feels today...

So: a couple of tracks to pick things up - and little chat: John Butcher, Xavier Charles and Axel Dorner play 'Pamplemousse,' from a live performance on August 26th 2000 at La Chapelle, Saint-Jean,Mulhouse. Interesting interview with Butcher here and in this month's Wire...

And by way of a contrast: George Clinton and the Gang - 'Maggot Brain.' 'Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time.' Eddie Hazell on fine form here... Soaring electric elegance... Woot! Or something. Get down, y'all...


John Butcher/Xavier Charles/Axel Dorner
John Butcher (ts, ss) Xavier Charles (cl) Axel Dorner (t)
Pamplemousse
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George Clinton/Funkadelic
Eddie Hazel,Tawl Ross (g) Bernie Worrell (key) Billy Nelson (b) Tiki Fulwood (d) Parliament, Gary Shider, Bernie Worrell, Tawl Ross (v)
Maggot Brain
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Blogging lite...

Things have been sparse on the blog front, I'm afraid... illness and other chores - the usual combo. Today and over the coming weekend, I'm attending the Loughborough Folk Festival - some reviews/photos to follow, no doubt. I will try to get some of the usual uploads on site if possible. Wonder how the festival will turn out? Wall to wall folk music for three days... Ummm - as my old oft-repeated gag goes, I'm more Thurston Moore (or Brew Moore, come to think of it) than Christy Moore and the line-up looks pretty conservative. But there are a couple of acts I rather fancy and I want to check out the younger bands. Who knows, could be some surprises? We'll see - hey nonny... On with the Ghost Dance...

Clifford Thornton... George Lewis/Muhal RIchard Abrams/Roscoe Mitchell... Toshinori Kondo... Ornette Coleman

A great part of the fun involved in this type of blog is in attempting to write about disparate kinds of music, attempting to capture something of the essence of the track... An impossible task, perhaps – but, like I said, fun...

From the classic album 'The Panther and the Lash,' a long track: 'Huey is free' by Clifford Thornton and a band he put together in Paris for a live date in 1970. Thornton was a teacher, musician and political as well as musical radical who died in relative obscurity in Geneva, 1983, unusual because he doubled – succesfully – on trumpet and trombone. The album title refers to Langston Hughes' collection of poetry.

Opening on a swinging bass vamp before piano, drums and Thornton's muted trumpet come in. Removing the mute, he plays open horn in declamatory style. Held up by a boiling rhythm section – scampering piano from François Tusques, tough bass from Beb Guérin and powerhous drums from Noel McGhie. The pianist takes a hurtling solo, at full throttle. The bass steps up next, framed by rattling, insistent percussion from McGhie. Recorded in 1970, free jazz had come of age by now – here you have music that is open, fiery, passionate - yet linked by a strong cultural hawser to the traditions it came from. And one must remember the strong political undercurrents in coming fresh to this music – Thornton was banned from France for his alleged links to the Black Panthers and this track especially wears its colours proud and strong – Huey being Huey Newton... Right on... Be warned – this track cuts off sharply from the bass solo...

'You know, the idea that art has to have a political basis seems a little too much like preaching to other people about what they should be doing. On the other hand, seeing artists as political seems almost intrinsic because of what you have to go through to get art before the public, or to make a space in which it can be interpreted or understood, thought about or debated.' (From an interviewhere...).

The above quote comes from George Lewis – heard here as part of a recent trio of old hands – with plenty of surprises still up their collective sleeves. The politics are more 'intrinsic' perhaps... Muhal Richard Abrams, George Lewis and Roscoe Mitchell have put some time in and ranged far and wide – their main link, I suppose, in the public eye at least, being membership of the AACM:

'The Chicago musicians have used just about every instrument imaginable to explore all possible textures of sound rather than relationships of pitch and tonality.' (From p113, 'As Serious as your Life,' Val Wilmer).

They play: 'Streaming,' title track of the 2005 album. All the music was freely improvised and indeed explores 'all possible textures of sound.' Starts with sonorous bass pounding on piano soon joined by percussion and going into a swaying circle dance as electronics(?) twitter: a long and fascinating journey ensues. Mysterious noise/sounds cued from Lewis's laptop around the core of the piano's well-recorded sonorities – many of the sound sources are hard to place – extended technique or electronic? - as tinkering percussion – bells and small instruments in the main – colour the field being inscribed and expanded. Swooshs, scrapes, amplified breath pulses – a move from the identifiable keyboard sounds through a mysterious landscape to end on a soft repeating figure that goes out to silence. As Creeley had it: 'FORM IS NEVER MORE THAN AN EXTENSION OF CONTENT.' (Famously quoted by Charles Olson in 'Projective Verse.') 'There it is, brothers, sitting there for USE,' (ibid) as Olson goes on to gloss the statement. Lewis, Mitchell, Abrams: three figures of Outward, then...


Toshinori Kondo played with Brotzmann in his Die like a Dog band. Here he is, on imperious form, with a solo album – 'Fukyo.' Indeed. A good review of which here...
This is the longest track – 'Ungetsu,' clocking in at 6 minutes plus – most are short, sharp stabs of icy brilliance. Commencing on swooning, liquid figures as a gorgeous melody unfolds. Echoes of Electric Miles, perhaps - and Bill Dixon - if you want to hunt the influences - but very much his own man. Scattering off among a flock of echo/delay splinters. One of my favourite contemporary musicians who amply demonstrates (as George Lewis does) what electronics can add to improvised music – forget fusion (in the main)...

Stomping backwards to one of Ornette's best line-ups, pre-Prime Time- a three horn bust-out with Dewey Redman and Don Cherry, girdered by Charlie Haden as a very young Denardo learns the ropes. 'Space Jungle' from the hard-to-get album 'Crisis,' a recorded live in 1969 but not released until 1972, I believe. Fast, swirling, ecstatic, on a cold, wet day here in God's Little Acre, this lights fires in the heart and soul... Ornette is diamond-hard, cutting through the front-line as Redman roars gutbucket tenor underneath, Cherry is there somewhere (an echoey mix) and Denardo acquits himself surprisingly well... Haden rock solid, the booming heart of the band. Collective improvisation that references backwards - and forwards... Really the blues...


In the Videodrome...

Just came across this band and dig them mightily - Blues Control...

Muhal Richard A live last year...

George Lewis with Derek

The other George Lewis playing his classic 'Burgundy Street Blues.'

Roscoe Mitchell explores Sound and Space...

Ornette last year...


Clifford Thornton
Clifford Thornton (cor, shn, v-tb, p, maracas) François Tusques (p, cel, balafon, maracas)Beb Guérin (b) Noel McGhie (d, perc)
Huey is Free
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Muhal Richard Abrams (p, bell, bamboo fl, taxihorn, perc) George Lewis (tr, laptop)
Roscoe Mitchell (ss, as, perc)
Streaming
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Toshinori Kondo
(tr, electronics)
Ungetsu
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Ornette Coleman
Don Cherry (cor, Indian fl), Ornette Coleman (as, tp, vln), Dewey Redman (ts, cl),
Charlie Haden (b), Denardo Coleman (d)
Space Jungle
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Joe Morris/Rob Brown... John Coltrane... Lennie Tristano...

Some of my favourite contemporary musicians – the Joe Morris/Rob Brown quartet, enclosing William Parker and Jackson Krall, playing 'Pivotal,' from their 1995 album, 'Illuminate.' Spirals of interlocking melody as the bass runs deep and the drums spatter: Krall has one of those especially dustbin-liddish cymbals that splash a grimy metallic shimmer across the soundspace. Not surprising to learn that he's a bespoke drum-maker and sound-sculptor (see here...). Morris emerges eventually, repeating a cranky fragment over and over until his usual linearity surfaces, albeit a craggy line - there is a scouring, almost Calvinistic purity to his playing, shorn of effects but not slipping back into the more cosy timbres of classic jazz guitar – informed by rock although transcending it. Parker comes up next, a twisting bounce that ebbs away to silence briefly – then Krall steps in, rolls across the kit in short phrases that drop off to a quick silence before extending his rhythm into a longer breath. Back for more collective weaving and sparring that ebbs away over sharp accents from Krall - eventually to
silence .

I truly dig Joe Morris:

'I'm not interested in being part of any doctrinaire, dogmatic scene led by anyone. I mean, I vote and I obey the law. I have a family and I pay my taxes. I'm not an anarchist because it's too organized around set principles. I prefer to be a kind of old fashioned hipster who doesn't fit in anywhere, quietly pissing off the people who spend their lives pissing off people with their anti-social contrivances. It's all been so predictable for so long. ' (From here...).

Indeed...

John Coltrane's first session as leader. Red Garland holds the piano chair on this session, alternating with Mal Waldron. I put up another track from this date a while back – interesting to contrast Waldron with Garland. Red G has a sparkle and bounce to his touch that renders him instantly recognisable, bubbling single note lines alternating with 'locked-hand' dense chordal passages – which he can overdo at times – I find monotony can set in, the sound become sludgy. Here – he's fine, a marvelous foil to Coltrane, whom, the more I listen to of his earlier stuff, the more I appreciate how far he stretched the music and what an innovator he was. It's all here – the seedbeds of the later fiery flights, although this is relatively brief, a heartfelt, deep performance of 'Violets for your furs,' introduced in late-night style by Garland before Coltrane beds down on the theme. A ballad player supreme – this is world-weary, questioning - and beautiful. Garland takes a solo, parallel chord style throughout, but only a chorus, undersprung by Paul Chambers' deep, supple bass. Coltrane then, to take it out, reshaping the theme with a few sudden flurries. A straight, short reading, but the pleasures here are the sheer finesse of the performance, the unique sound of the Coltrane tenor saxophone...

I suspect that Lennie Tristano would have concurred with the sentiments expressed in the Joe Morris quote above. From sessions he recorded in his studio in the early sixties, this is 'Scene and Variations: Carol/Tania/Bud.' Interesting review from 'Downbeat' here...

Starting off in two-handed fashion – apparently he may have influenced George Shearing's adoption of the locked-hands style, although the English pianist alleges here that he took it straight from Milt Buckner – ah, the minutiae of critical obsession - the first of the three sections is a dense chordal passage – suddenly breaking off for part two into a loping bass line that underpins the more familiar long-vista linearity. One interesting solution to playing solo piano. The third section is a long, flowing single line, mainly in the bass, returning to both hands briefly to thump out some chords. Unsung, old Lennie, unsung... and no one-trick cool jazz pony, let me tell you...





Morris/Brown Quartet
Joe Morris (g) Rob Brown (as) William Parker (b) Jackson Krall (d)
Pivotal
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John Coltrane
John Coltrane (ts) Red Garland (p) Paul Chambers (b) Albert "Tootie" Heath (d)
Violets for your furs
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Lennie Tristano
Lennie Tristano (p)
Scene and variations: Carol/Tania/Bud
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soon come...

Things have been a little hectic - swinging between the two poles that inform my present life -illness/exhaustion and being busy on various projects - so blogging back-burnered. But some tracks and a review or two are on their way...

Back Door... Derek Bailey... John Zorn...

I knew a guy a long time ago – Steve Williams, wonder where he is now? – who told me that he used to go out to a pub on the Yorkshire moors – the Blakey Inn – no relation to Art Blakey, I don't think, but a nice thought - to see this band, Back Door. I'd heard of them before (Steve and I met in Dublin in the mid-seventies), I bought the vinyl but can't remember where – London or Dublin or – wherever... but unluckily never saw them live. Anyway – when I was listening to Megaphone Man last week while writing my review, the way the bass functions in that trio reminded me of Back Door's Colin Hodgkinson - Back Door – in one of those weird synchronicities, as I type those two words I am listening to the Akron Family – just singing 'The sun's going to shine in my back door someday.' Wonder if there is a connection. Spooky... Anyway... this is Ron Aspery on alto, Colin Hodgkinson on electric bass and Tony Hicks on drums playing 'Vienna Breakdown.' With a sound that foreshadows, for me, Ornette Coleman's later Prime Time musics – this was recorded in 1972 . I don't suppose there is any chance that Ornette dropped in to The Blakey Arms for a pint? Looking for Art? Just had an absurd flash of various American jazz musicians wandering around the North of England in the seventies... Ornette spotted in to the Rover's Return – 'Eh, Jack, in't that Ornette Coleman?' 'Nay, Vera, it's freejazz night down the Legion next week.' Eeh, our Vera - sadly missed... (A tribute to the inimitable Vera Duckworth and her bereaved spouse. See, Murray, I win the bet!). Hodgkinson was a monster bass player – hence the connection in my head to Neil Fountain of Megaphone Man. All the tracks on the album are short, sharp bursts of energy that cross-wired jazz, blues and rock into a unique sound. Ron Aspery unfortunately passed away in 2003 – there is a long and fascinating interview with him here...

Haven't put up any Derek Bailey for a while, it seems... Here he is with Japanese band Ruins, belting through 'QuinkaMatta,' from 1995. Derek starts off on shards of electric guitar - then suddenly Ruins crash in at high speed, like the Spanish Inquisition. ('No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.' Enough of the jokes, already...). Furious bass and drums - Ruins compress so much into such a short space of time. A couple of repeated bass figures open up the density of sound here and there, setting up a groove at one point - that Derek gloriously surfs over...

Thrumming bass and cymbal-led drums as the two horns weave through the theme. John Zorn with his Masada cohort – Dave Douglas, Greg Cohen and Joey baron – playing 'Piram.' From the album: 'Masada Vol 2: Beit.' For me, a track of stunning brilliance, everything locking into place... Baron is a powerhouse, driving the band on remorselessly. Both horns take care of business, solo or chasing each other in dizzying flights. A swift Google of 'Piram' yields:

'Meaning: like a wild ass...
a king of Jarmuth, a royal city of the Canaanites, who was conquered and put to death by Joshua (10:3, 23, 26).'

Not sure if this was before or after he fit the battle of Jericho... But this track kicks like 'a wild ass.'

A swirling deep dark bass loops vertiginously, soon joined by some indeterminable rustling shard and high swooping electronics... Wolf Eyes! Track 4 from 'Mugger.' Power electronics/improv at its most electronically powerful -yet there is always a shaping intelligence to this band, however rough the going gets... this will test your speakers... If they are good enough for Anthony Braxton, they are good enough for me...





Back Door
Ron Asprey (as) Colin Hodgkinson (el-b) Tony Hicks (d)
Vienna Breakdown
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Derek Baily/Ruins
Derek Bailey (g) Masuda Ryuichi (b) Yoshida Tatsuya (d, v)
QuinkaMatta
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John Zorn/Masada
John Zorn (as) Dave Douglas (t) Greg Cohen (b) Joey Baron (d)
Piram
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Wolf Eyes (Aaron Dilloway, Nate Young, John Olson)
Untitled track 2
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Lee Konitz... Art Pepper... Dave Van Ronk... Mance Lipscomb

A 1961 date for Lee Konitz playing 'All of me,' with the late Sonny Dallas on bass and Elvin Jones on drums providing his inimitable polyrhythmic fire. The initial chorus stands as a paradigm for jazz improvisation – the tune is hinted at, prodded, approached obliquely – simultaneously familiar – yet unfamiliar. Dallas provides firm-fingered support and Jones slaps out ever-shifting, edgy and always provoking rhythms across the bass player's steady four. Konitz plays wonderfully, calm and pipingly clear. Elvin takes a solo and some fiery exchanges with Konitz towards the end, on top of his game throughout... One of Konitz's best sessions -and there are, of course, plenty to choose from...

Art Pepper opens 'September Song' playing a long introduction over a minor two chord vamp before finally hitting up the main theme. The rhythm section, sprung on Mitchell's taut, wiry bass, provide a sympathetic backdrop. Interesting comparison to Konitz: Pepper has a sharper, more acrid and bluesy edge to his alto. Mitchell is very full in the mix, backlining the veteran Flanagan's piano somewhat to sparse chording and Higgins to a distant clatter of brushes. Maybe its my sub-woofer... The piano emerges eventually to take a thoughtful solo, followed by Mitchell, who seems to be having a good day. Pepper returns to emote over the returning minor vamp, sudden flurries erupting contrasting with some blues licks and long bent notes. Art in 1979, the September of his years...

Dave Van Ronk died a while back. Obscure, perhaps, with regard to the mainstream of popular music, he was, nevertheless, a seminal figure, via his influence on Bob Dylan and countless others during his tenure as the Mayor of Greenwich Village. A point I suddenly realised was close to home – an old face I knew back in Paris many years ago having just contacted me via the Mayoress of Bastille, la belle Julie – Sivert, who spent some time with Dave Van Ronk when he was in New York a long way back, encouraged by him – Sivert being a rather damn fine guitar player himself. And – one of the first finger-picking songs I learned was 'Tain't nobody's business,' via Van Ronk's version in the old 'Sing Out' mag.http://www.singout.org/ Days of innocence... This is 'Did you hear John Hurt,' a song about listening to 'a little old feller, play a shiny guitar.' Which just slides in under the wire demarcating patronisation and genuine affection. 'Old feller' in question is Mississippi John Hurt, that is, whose rediscovery fed another strong line into the development of acoustic guitar techniques and understanding of previous musical afro-american cultures. Van Ronk rasps his way through the song, his gruff ginmill voice complemented by solid, ringing clawhammer. 'Blackface' or 'Channelling?' To revive my categories... I would say the latter... Van Ronk found something in the old folk/blues of yesteryear that hit him in the heart – as did many of us. Which poses many questions...


Wassily Kandinsky, in his Introduction to 'Concerning the Spiritual in Art,' says:

'Every work of art is the child of its age and, in many cases, the
mother of our emotions. It follows that each period of culture
produces an art of its own which can never be repeated. Efforts
to revive the art-principles of the past will at best produce an
art that is still-born... Such imitation
is mere aping...

There is, however, in art another kind of external similarity
which is founded on a fundamental truth. When there is a
similarity of inner tendency in the whole moral and spiritual
atmosphere, a similarity of ideals, at first closely pursued but
later lost to sight, a similarity in the inner feeling of any one
period to that of another, the logical result will be a [REVIVAL]
of the external forms which served to express those inner
feelings in an earlier age. An example of this today is our
sympathy, our spiritual relationship, with the Primitives. Like
ourselves, these artists sought to express in their work only
internal truths, renouncing in consequence all consideration of
external form.' (From here...).

Many would allege that Van Ronk tapped in to that 'fundamental truth.' I'm a trifle uneasy with any revivalists raising up 'the external forms which served to express those inner feelings' and comparisons of white/black blues singers that look to find 'a similarity in the inner feeling of any one period,' but there is a basic emotional integrity to Van Ronk's music that overrides my general misgivings...

Mance Lipscomb was also recovered to a late career by the folk and blues revival. Some may have called him, and others like him, a 'primitive,' as folk musicians where regarded as such. With the best of intentions, no doubt – different times... But there is more skill resting in these musicians than may meet the conventional eye. Usually called a 'songster' (like Mississippi John Hurt and for the same reasons of repertoire) because he sang across the genres (as did Leadbelly before him, come to think of it), the Texan guitarist and singer had a unique style based on finger-picking over a monotonal bass (as in Mississippi Delta blues) – which he varied as and when – here, dropping in some nice boogie runs on 'Corrine Corrine.' One of my favourite versions of the old warhorse...

'Lipscomb represented one of the last remnants of the nineteenth-century songster tradition, which predated the development of the blues. Though songsters might incorporate blues into their repertoires, as did Lipscomb, they performed a wide variety of material in diverse styles, much of it common to both black and white traditions in the South, including ballads, rags, dance pieces (breakdowns, waltzes, one and two steps, slow drags, reels, ballin' the jack, the buzzard lope, hop scop, buck and wing, heel and toe polka), and popular, sacred, and secular songs. Lipscomb himself insisted that he was a songster, not a guitarist or "blues singer," since he played "all kinds of music.'

From here...


In the Videodrome...


Mance Lipscomb...

The Failed Nasa Experiment sent me this – Sonny Sharrock at the Knitting Factory...


Art Pepper...

Lee Konitz and co...




Lee Konitz
Lee Konitz (as) Sonny Dallas (b) Elvin Jones (d)
All of me
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Art Pepper (as) Tommy Flanagan (p) Red Mitchell (b) Billy Higgins (d) Kenneth Nash (perc)
September Song
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Dave Van Ronk (v, g)
Did you hear John Hurt
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Mance Lipscomb (v, g)
Corrine Corrine
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Cecil Taylor... Ornette Coleman... George Clinton/Funkadelic...

A quick three - time has run away with me this week, embroiled in editing down a lot of our music and plotting for the launch of our cd/download label... coming soon, fingers crossed...


'Things ain't what they used to be.' They certainly weren't after Cecil Taylor had exploded onto the scene... despite the years of initial obscurity, he laid down some powerful markers. The old Ellington tune, here worked out by an octet in 1961, five horns, including Clark Terry – an old Ellingtonian (1951-59). Regarding Cecil's piano playing, Gary Giddins remarked that:

'...Taylor is almost like a tabula rasa in the sense that listeners read into him whatever they happen to know about music. People with a classical background will hear everything from Ravel to Messiaen or Mozart to Brahms, and those with a jazz background tend to talk about Bud Powell, Lennie Tristano, Horace Silver or Dave Brubeck, and so forth.' (from here - scroll down)

The brilliantly astringent diagonal comping and asides on this track remind me of Monk and Duke, to add two more perceived influences. Interesting to compare one of the Ellington band's versions of this tune on this vid with Johnny Hodges soaring free. Taking the tune at a fair lick compared to the more sedate tempo employed here. I can hear this congregation as a distant echo of one of the Dukal small band tracks - and Duke's piano playing did not pigeon hole easily into period...Although, as Giddins qualifies:

'While people always seem to hear references to the music that they know, at the same time, whether you love Taylor or not, he doesn't really sound like anybody else. That is the great paradox, that he is so much an original, yet he calls to mind so much of western music and so much of piano music.' (Ibid).


Shepp comments querulously over the ensemble as they state the theme. Cecil takes the first solo, pecking, hacking and surging up and down the keyboard over a pretty straight rhythm from Neidlinger. Shepp emerges next – although it sounds as if Taylor's accompaniment is a continuation of his own solo. Squally, bending and slurring tenor – in places sounding like Ben Webster in an alternative universe, to continue that Ellington analogy. Then Clark Terry – poised, taking his time – I doubt that he was ever ruffled by much – sneaking in a quote from 'It ain't necessarily so.' Brief bass interlude - then Roswell Rudd follows, sounding like he's having fun - some wry trombone rips. Taylor back for some spaced out chords that accompany the bass coming through for a couple of choruses. Lacy then – entering on a high long held note. Higgins getting more assertive on the drums as the ensemble join in on a collective improv. An odd look at Taylor playing on a conventional structure – here, a twelve bar blues. A track positioned on the hinge of history, old and new joined in a raggedly exhilarating mash - or something...

Swacking guitars, rambling riffing bass, thumping beat, that swirly theme – the first track of Ornette Coleman's ''Dancing in your head,' 'Theme from a Symphony, Part One.' Ornette taking collective improvisation to a different place – his own sax used as much rhythmically as melodically – alternatively gliding over and bouncing off the surging boil of the music. Harmolodics, anyone? Definitions? We'll get there in the end – a concept you understand intuitively rather than logically, perhaps... fascinating to try and follow the different lines weaving in and out, the beat never quite as solid as you think it is, moving like an unpredictable wave down the beach, powered up by the mighty Ronald Shannon Jackson. Recorded in 1975, this was the first outing for his electric line-up, soon to become known as Prime Time.

One of the links between Ornette's electric bands and Miles Davis's voodoo jazz rock may well be George Clinton's Funkadelic. From the wild and wacky album 'Maggot Brain,' here is 'Wars of Armageddon.' Everything AND the kitchen sink chucked into this. The great Eddie Hazell rises occasionally out of the bongo_ridden swamp like a wah wah God but this is wacky collage in the main over an infectious driving rhythm. Love the cuckoo clock... More pussy to the power, y'all... Etc... Apologies to the thought police... not...

I'm hoping to get more tracks up this weekend... energy (and Armageddon) permitting. Vaya con dios...

Cecil Taylor
Cecil Taylor (p) Steve Lacy (ss) Roswell Rudd (tr) Archie Shepp (ts) Charles Davis (bs) Clark Terry (t) Buell Neidlinger(b) Billy Higgins (d)
Things ain't what they used to be
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Ornette Coleman
Ornette Coleman (as) Robert Palmer (cl) Bern Nix, Charles Ellerbee (g) Jamaaladeen Tacuma (b) Ronald Shannon Jackson (d)
Theme from a Symphony Part One
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Funkadelic
Eddie Hazel,Tawl Ross (g) Bernie Worrell (key) Billy Nelson (b) Tiki Fulwood (d) Parliament, Gary Shider, Bernie Worrell, Tawl Ross (v)
Wars of Armageddon
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Review: Megaphone Man: Live at the Tabernacle/Blue Canoe Records...

Megaphone Man are: Neal Fountain, bass, Jeff Reilly, drums, Bryan Lopes, tenor saxophone. Originating out of Athens, Georgia, they call themselves an 'avant garde and improvisational punk jazz trio.' Whooee... a lot of musical freight jammed uncomfortably into that description. But: after listening to their album; 'Live from the Tabernacle,' on the Blue Canoe label ... I realise how difficult it is to throw a convenient verbal rope over their music. 'Jazz,' fair enough – although they eschew the word on its own – wisely:

'Although all members shy away from calling themselves a jazz trio, their music contains full elements of jazz--and then some. "We all have wide varieties of music in our backgrounds," states Fountain, "so I think it best not to call ourselves a 'jazz band' per se.”' (From here...).

Yet: playing with faultless technique married to improvisational nerve and enough rhythmical flexibility and veering from the backbeat to edge into - and way through - 'jazz' territory. But qualified by their own hints at wider intentions – this ain't bebop and is not intended to be. 'Per se.' In the year 2008, this is hardly a problem – except for purists. To further unpick: 'Punk' – in the sense of going for it, hell for leather, crashing the boundaries, without fear, rather than in a more narrow confrontational sense. (Refer back to 'purist'). 'Avant garde?' Lineage of, maybe – fire music has been around a while now. Yet that is the point, perhaps – free jazz has never been truly assimilated into the wider music, is still troublesome for many and, more importantly, has evolved on a slightly separate track, while arguably never really losing sight of its earlier origins in collective traditional jazz – 'New Orleans' – blues, folk and gospel. In fact, it could be further argued that because it has grown into a broader church than many may recognise (due to circumstances of underground fate and critical blindness), a band such as Megaphone Man can truly lay claim to being members of the congregation via 'avant garde,' improvisational,' 'jazz' – and even 'punk.' At a stretch one could also argue that 'punk' had historical antecedents in the originating moves towards 'free jazz' in the fifties – Ornette, Cecil? And the aesthetic forged by Lester Bangs et al envisaged a righteous gathering that went from, Iggy, say, to Albert Ayler, via the electric voodoo of Miles Davis. Let alone the crossing lines that subsequently intersected on the Downtown New York scene of the 70's. A complicated business...

But Megaphone Man have made a striking album with 'Live at the Tabernacle.' By foregrounding the rhythms of funk and r and b, they are merely emphasising certain roots – the 'social music' continuum (as Miles might have said) – upon which they lay their intricate, three-part dances and explorations. The bass holds the bottom and middle, giving plenty of spine and chordal thickening when necessary - although this is more textural than born of harmonic need – erupting occasionally into higher registers. The tenor plays full-throated free-rolling lines with high energy and much élan while in the main sticking within a timbral range that does not veer off into extended overtonal screech and skronk. This is never abstract music, the beat is never far away... with a sharp pinch of the blues and r and b old skool honking when the spirit moves. The drums are fairly spartan, giving lots of space, hitting the two and four to groove and playing straight-up and free-falling where the lines dictate the approach needed. Less busy than on a lot of albums I have listened to recently – refreshingly so... One wonders if this is a deliberate strategy... Given the busy role of the bass, it would make sense...

Not afraid to rock out, they are also capable of spinning off into more complex 'free' interludes. The trick is to hide the joins – which they do successfully. And, for a three piece, they transcend any implicit instrumental limitations by offering a variety of approaches. Varying the lead, for example – on 'Razor Egg Hunt,' the tenor starts, repeating a relentless two bar phrase with a Monkian edge. On 'Recurring Nightmare,' 'Fat Gambling Liar' and 'Miles of Rust,' the bass opens. Offering much timbral variety throughout – mainly via the bass, with high, plaintive lines like a guitar, (note the beginning of 'Miles of Rust' especially - ethereal sustained chorused tones), straight four, thick velvet chording that flows into an organ-like sound at times, recalling those old tenor and organ combos. (Roots, y'all...). This flexibility of the electric bass role is one of the main keys to the success of this band, offering a wide palette of colours...

Most tracks start on the backbeat before moving off into freer territories – but one track demonstrates another approach. 'Recurring nightmare' opens on rolling drums and keening high register bass – a modal/Indian flavour to the tune. Tenor coming in on a repeated slurred-into C to ground the tonic and emphasise the almost-raga feel, eventually emerging to spar with the bass, some flying, sprightly saxophone here...

On the last track, 'Bubble Hat,' a jaunty, almost whimsical swagger over an odd, almost parodic, two-beat rhythm – they really stretch out, going from tenor solo backed by bass and drums into a three way conversation, bass running parallel with saxophone, drums giving lots of space, using sharp fills cunningly. Then another section with a different theme (again with a Monkian flavour) that breaks up into a free-for-all – the tenor (using echo/delay to complicate the line at one point) spinning urgent lines over minimal accompaniment that drops out occasionally for them to stand alone. Followed by bass soloing over busier drums now – fast and fluent. Then a section underpinned by an insistent bass drum pattern. To end on a well-recognised staple thumping bass/snare back beat pattern... The distance travelled and freedom demonstrated here stand as a paradigm for their overall musical achievement throughout this album... (Note: there is a large break in this track, which I assume is not intentional but a fault in the download as I checked the length on the web site - 17 minutes plus - is the second part an encore, perhaps?).


So: a band who move smoothly through the genres and their influences ('Frisell trio......Jarrett......Miles......Hendrix.......Trane.........Dead Classical Composers' according to the blurb on their MySpace page) while holding it all together under an identifiable - and original - fine-honed group style. The material is fairly minimal, (Bryan Lopes: 'Almost always built on a simple motif and then we expand... the original idea.' [From here...] ) but allows space to move and elaborate – there is an organic flow to each track, the improvising never seems grafted on. 'Live at the Tabernacle' demonstrates the collective blowing skills of Megaphone Man, to be sure, and stands as a snapshot of what must have been a great gig. I wonder what a studio session might produce... maybe Blue Canoe can oblige?

Bill Perkins Octet... Steve Lacy/Don Cherry... Polly Bradfield... Peter Brotzmann

I knew this title originally from the wonderful Jack Teagarden version – this is the Bill Perkins Octet from 1956 doing a smooth cool school take on 'A hundred years from today.' Velvet arrangement wrapped round Perkins tenor with memories of the 1949 Miles Davis Nine somewhere in the background... Rather beautiful...

Steve Lacy served part of his apprenticeship with Thelonious Monk and throughout his career both showed a deep knowledge of his music and often returned (as if to a meadow? Apologies to Robert Duncan) to his compositions. This is early Lacy, in tandem with Don Cherry, Carl Brown and Billy Higgins – bass player apart, half the Ornette Coleman group. Cherry solos first – on trumpet, rather than his smaller horns. Still retaining the sound, however – busy but not power blowing. Lacy always seems relaxed, wherever he wanders – and inside/outside Monk's music was where he frequently rambled mightily down the years. Some wonderful arcs of notes here, when he solos, as if flying lightly above the changes. Higgins is busy throughout, rewarded with a solo of equal length to the horns. Laid back stuff – cool, almost?

Rasping, scratching, high scraping bounces of the bow – Polly Bradfield took no prisoners on her solo album of improvisations from 1979. Doing to the violin, what Derek Bailey did to the guitar, both moving it out into unfamiliar territory while simultaneously exploring the instrument's intrinsic physical being – wood and strings interacting with fingers and, here, bow. 'Extended technique' with a vengeance...


This Die like a Dog track came up on my Last Fm player and for the duration I stopped what I was doing, transfixed by the power and the finesse – stupid name for a group, maybe, despite the sentiments – what's with all this cheap transgression? - but the music... wow... Had to go and dig it out... This is 'Number 1.' Homage to Albert Ayler... by a powerhouse quartet – but Kondo's trumpet/electronics steal the prize for me: HE DO THE TRUMPET IN VOICES... to misappropriate Mr Eliot... amazing. Parker takes a sizzling arco solo as well...


In the Videodrome...

Die like a Dog - whoof...

Bill Perkins in Japan with the cool school boys...

Steve Lacy in San Francisco...



Bill Perkins
Bill Perkins (ts) Bud Shank (as) Jack Nimitz (b-cl, bs) Stu Williamson (tr, v-tr) Carl Fontana (tr) Russ Freeman (p) Red Mitchell (b) Mel Lewis (d)
A hundred years from today
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Steve Lacy/Don Cherry
Steve Lacy (ss) Don Cherry (ct) Carl Brown (b) Billy Higgins (d)
Let's Cool One
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Polly Bradfield (v)
6-19-1979
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Peter Brotzmann/Die like a Dog
Peter Brötzmann (as, ts, trgt) Toshinori Kondo (tpt, elec) William Parker (b) Hamid Drake (d, fr-d)
Number 1
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Review: Keith Kendrick/Sheila Needham plus Sheila Mosley/Pete Burnham at the Soar Bridge Inn, Monday, 28th January, 2008

More singing... after the choir gig last Saturday (see previous post), off to Barrow on Soar, just outside God's Little Acre for my first visit to the Grand Union club. It will not be the last...

The performers booked for tonight: Keith Kendrick and Sheila Needham backed by Sheila Mosley and Pete Burnham, the latter pair whose work I know well, the former more by reputation (although I saw them at a private party the other week and was mightily impressed). Keith Kendrick, of course, is a stalwart from way back and I'm not sure how I've missed seeing him - although my interest in folk music waxes and wanes, to be fair, plus living out of the area for so long. But at this club, a simple performance, in the sense of artist/audience, is never likely. Given the staggering firepower of the singers who make up the audience, participation at a high level is always the order of the night. At several points during the evening, I closed my eyes and concentrated on picking out all the individual voices and timbres, male and female, which stood out of the collective song, most of whom I know from around and about. An interesting exercise... yet the individual talents all combine for the collective whole - no grandstanding here...

Bill Wilkes started with an Australian song about the First World War that I didn't know - surprisingly, as I get wearied with the continuing vocal bleat about WW1, when the band is always playing bloody 'Waltzing Matilda.' Cynical, perhaps... But tonight -a fresh look at the old slaughter - fascinating. The quick parade of floor singers, all good, led inexorably to the first spot of the night from Kendrick/Needham. Kicked off by a version of another song I usually loathe (but see my review here for the Cantamus gig where they produced a new take on an old hate that turned my ears round, as it were) which now breathed new life, buttressed by consummate concertina playing and the fine harmonies and individual performance of Sheila, he proceeded with a light touch throughout, taking in some serious old skool - 'Crow on the cradle,' Sheila's romp (complete with audience physical participation via various hand gestures) through 'Why does a winkle always turn to the right?' - to more varied fare, moving through what I term the 'Arc of Loss,' the register of hard times and pastoral yearnings that make up the bulk of the English folk canon. Via songs of passion, (personal and set against the wider backdrop of history - Chartism, tonight) and reminders of maritime heritage -'Sailor's Prayer.' Oh - and a stunning version of Cyril Tawney's 'Sally free and Easy,' which combines both the sea and thwarted love - 'took a sailor's loving, for a nursery game.' A song that many sing but few do justice to - tonight, their stark harmonies, with Sheila holding a run-on note into each verse for Keith to bounce off, signalled a sharp musical intelligence at work. A questing re-invention is always taking place, as I see it, invigorating even (over) familiar material spliced to more unusual songs - 'My Own Heart,' by Adrian May - which I hadn't heard before. The whole transmitted with good humour and deceptive finesse...

This is just an off-the-cuff review, I was not planning on doing a write-up as such, took no photographs either, and only a few undecipherable notes - the Leffe was biting by then... it was supposed to be a night out with the crew on a long-overdue visit... but I enjoyed it so much... nice to see Sheila and Pete as well, who gave some old favourites, Ms Mosley's clear high and slightly frail voice with an echo of Shirley Collins perhaps (hailing from the same part of the country) riding smoothly alongside Pete's lilting ring - South and North East combined. Not forgetting the mighty vocal backdrop of the audience - they really add something to the evening, making it a unique experience to come here - crying out for a live recording, Bill?

Review: Cantamus Choir/Mikhail Karikis at the Emmanuel Church, Loughborough, 26 January 2008

An interesting gig... Which I almost managed to blunder into late – it said 7.30 p.m on the web site. But – hey – when did any performance start on time? I arrived just after ten past, saw a queue as the doors were not open yet and figured: a swift drink then back in time... Returning just after 7.30 to see the choir all ready to go into the church as I bundled through and quickly paid for my ticket... Flustered, grabbed a seat at the back as they filed in... just made it... These people are punctual! Maybe some of the audience thought I was part of the show, a "stranger" from another realm (see below...)...

I was not sure quite what to expect, having found the details via a link in the Wire (no joke intended) that piqued my interest – especially as I was not aware of Radar, the Loughborough University Arts Programme. I thought we were the only people round here doing experimental wahoo – and the Club Sporadic has been in abeyance, due to a variety of factors. God's Little Acre doesn't support anything very musically different with much degree of enthusiasm – tribute bands and folk music is your lot until you hit Nottingham or Derby, Leicester occasionally... So: I thought I'd better go along and check it out...

The performance took place in Loughborough's Emmanuel Church, just out of the town centre. The last time I was in here was for my grandfather's funeral way back – the interior has since been revamped, now stripped out and very clean, almost austere apart from the soft colours, dominated by a large crucix hung from the ceiling. The Cantamus Choir – forty plus girls between the ages of 13 and 19, were accompanied by piano (and occasional tambourine). The premise: the choir, in collaboration with Mikhail Karikis, would be exploring 'notions of difference and its musical articulation, [consisting] of old and new works from the UK and abroad, which feature “strangers” from otherworldly realms and disparate geographical locations... [concluding] with the premiere of A Stranger Here, a new work by Karikis for Cantamus and him in the role of soloist.' (From the programme notes).

This presented a wide spread of folk songs native and foreign and pieces that ranged from Purcell to Maconchy via Shumann and Grieg, culminating in the five sections of Karikis's work, which 'visits the homonymous motet by English Baroque composer John Amner (1759-1641) and imagines a cross-century and cross-cultural musical dialogue.'(Ibid). Another measure of the distance to be travelled - 'cross-century and cross-cultural' - is between the references to Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' and the contemporary music of Karikis, from the edge of the Christian era to the problematic cultural/spiritual areas of today.
'In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas corpora,' as it were: 'I want to speak about bodies in new forms.' (From 'Metamorphoses,' Bk I:1).

The choir sang beautifully throughout and had no problems negotiating the harmonic/cultural spaces opened up by the moves between folk and 'art' musics, from the opening spiritual surety of 'Gaudete' to the later steps into more transgressive disruption. A surefooted, impressive performance – although the occasional interlude of choreography left me a trifle amused – it seemed a bit 'worthy' rather than adding anything to the performance. But having said that – the space was very exposed, minimal lighting, natural acoustics, so maybe it was felt that this was needed to spice it up a bit. Unnecessary, in my opinion – but this was not my turf, so... Unless - it was a deliberate move into irony, contrasting earlier innocence/purity with what was to come... Second-guessing will lead you into choppy heuristic waters...

The physical entry of the composer was also a bit problematic for me – he was just plain funny, in a leather jerkin that looked as if it had been left over from some ancient pantomime and some odd kind of scarf with coloured bobbles attached. I'm not sure this was intentionally humourous... At the beginning of the night, his voice was heard, briefly, from up above the main body of the church. Now, he interrupts the choir, coming forward out of the audience, adding a male voice to the massed female contingent, using extended vocal techniques that contrasted against the choral purity,shouts, chants, coughs, stutters in a rough granular interrogation – which as it progressed, became more interesting. (I'd stopped laughing by then). The choir re-arrange, parting physically at one point to signify a wide break that is caused by the presence of Karikis. Voices compete against voice - the choir in the main drowning out the harsher male tones of the interloper in parts with some stunning hair-raising harmonics being generated, until a (precarious?) balance is finally achieved as the trajectory of disruption ceases.

A fascinating night, then... Some incongruities – the demure choir in pastel robes, the jester figure of the composer, in the setting of a church – maybe they were intentional, part of the exploration of difference... Perhaps the spartan nature of the venue dictated the parameters of composition, arrangement and performance – one could imagine this work in a more contemporary setting, with added multi-media presence – or perhaps the reverse of my speculation is true, that the work was site-specifically created, deliberately playing off the sacred setting with the contrasts and brusque interjections of profane voice and presence. Certainly there is enough flexibility built in to extend in either staging direction, simplicity or complexity. Many questions raised as well - reverberating way beyond their brief musical appearance. Karikis was very impressive (once I got past the costume), using his performance art background to good effect. The choir especially displayed a collective supple strength and technique that allowed them to veer between genres and various levels of complexity, folk music and the western art music tradition ancient and modern (post-modern: Karikis?) – no easy feat as most 'straight' renditions of folk songs wreck them completely – think Peter Pears et al ripely over-enunciating... this was demonstrated by their version of 'Let no man steal your thyme,' which is a twee bloody song anyway much hated down the years – this was the best version I've ever heard of it by a country folk mile, an intense exploration of a piece that is usually played for cheap prurient giggles...

So: congratulations to Radar. We need more adventurous music/perormance in God's Little Acre... I look forward to the next manifestation... To crank up the Ovid reference a little further:

'Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Iovis ira nec ignis
nec poterit ferrum nec edax abolere vetustas.
('Metamorphoses', Bk XV:871-879 Ovid’s Envoi).

'And now the work is complete, that Jupiter’s anger, fire or sword cannot erase, nor the consuming bite of time.'

Blimey...