Thursday, January 31, 2008

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


Steve Lacy/Don Cherry
Steve Lacy (ss) Don Cherry (ct) Carl Brown (b) Billy Higgins (d)
Let's Cool One


Polly Bradfield (v)

Buy – you'll have to search for this one...

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


Tuesday, January 29, 2008

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.'


Friday, January 25, 2008

Curtis Counce... Booker Ervin... Marilyn Crispell/Gary Peacock/Paul Motian...

Continuing apologies for lack of blog presence... lingering illness (cough bloody cough) and another project that I am way behind on (the CD/Download label) have taken my time... so here are three tracks to re-start the fandango...

Holding the bop line in 1957... on the West Coast... Curtis Counce, another who went too young (died in 1963), a respected bass player around and about, formed his group in the fifties and recorded a few fine albums. This is a spacy, swaying reading of the old bop warhorse, 'Woody 'n' You.'

The Book had a way of hitting a note smack dab that gives his playing a diamond-hard edge... couple this to a fine sense of exploration and a bluesy swagger that earths his playing solidly – and I get: one of my favourite tenor players. From 1968, 'In a Capricornian Way' swings in on a dancing 6/8, Ervin's saxophone accompanied in the front line by the exemplary Woody Shaw. Tenor solos first – swirls of notes, high long-held cries, powerhouse blowing. Shaw next, bright and brassy. Barron follows, pithy and succinct. The whole kicked smartly along by bass and drums – Billy Higgins in fine fettle.

Marilyn Crispell
is renowned for raising up stormwinds of dense hard-hitting piano. Here, she throttles way, way back and drops acres of space into her reading of 'Open, to Love,' taken from the album of Annette Peacock compositions she recorded with Gary Peacock and Paul Motian - 'Nothing ever was, anyway.' Thoughtful, quietly discursive, but with an edge of steel. Peacock roams around deep mainly as Motian colours and subtly punctuates. Paul Bley recorded many Peacock compositions (and was married to her – as was the bass player on this session, Gary Peacock, earlier – gee, it gets complicated) – perhaps some of his presence hovers over this track especially.

Curtis Counce
Curtis Counce (b) Jack Sheldon (t) Harold Land (ts) Carl Perkins (p) Frank Butler (d)
Woody 'N' You


Booker Ervin
Booker Ervin (ts) Woody Shaw (t) Kenny Barron (p) Jan Arnet (b) Billy Higgins (d)
In a Capricornian Way


Marilyn Crispell
Marilyn Crispell (p) Gary Peacock (b) Paul Motian (d)
Open, to love


Thursday, January 24, 2008

Red Rose goes down...

A real pisser - this post on the excellent 'Streams of Expression' blog comprehensively lays out the sad story ...

Wednesday, January 23, 2008


Back from Budapest for a few days now - via Mr Bentham's 60th Birthday Bash - of which I hold the incriminating recordings (much good music)... but recurring chest infection has laid me low (again!). Surfacing tomorrow - well, later today, depending where you are...

Monday, January 14, 2008

Bobby Bradford/John Carter... Evan Parker... Lighning Hopkins... Bob Wills

I'm off to Budapest in a couple of hours so this is done on the run...

Bobby Bradford – a great if undersung trumpet/cornet hero from Dallas, Texas... Interesting interview here...
In tandem with John Carter – when you hear the clarinet you really do wonder why it wasn't used more in modern jazz and onwards... 'Sunday afternoon jazz society blues.' Don Preston's synth is a bit jarring but doesn't get in the way too much...

'From Houston, Texas, the blues man... Lightning Hopkins.' And the old Lightning boogie starts up... sharp guitar stabs flash across the rhythm as Mr Hopkins tells the tale: 'Mojo Hand.' Always something completely imperious about Lightning, batting every song into his mode of submission, sweeping his back-up musicians along in his slipstream.

Evan Parker 1978 one-horned explorations. Although you might figure that Parker, being equally adept on soprano and tenor was effectively two-horned – biceros? Horns of sheer plenty, whatever... cornucopias for the cognoscenti...
I thought the title came from Spenser but:
' Interestingly, though this was not involved in the choice of title, the monoceros is mentioned in Peter Ackroyd's The house of Doctor Dee: 'In Libya dwells the monoceros that feasts upon poison, and can make itself into male or female as it wishes...' ' (From here...).

And to fly out on - another proud son of the Lone Star State - the mighty Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys - 'Bubbles in my beer.' Western swing as she is swung...

Bobby Bradford/John Carter
Bobby Bradford (ct) John Carter (cl) Don Preston (synth, keyboards) Richard Davis (b) Andrew Cyrille(d)
Sunday afternoon jazz society blues


Evan Parker (ss)
Monoceros 3


Lighning Hopkins
Mojo Hand


Bob Wills (and his Texas Playboys)
Bubbles in my beer


Thursday, January 10, 2008


While I am here tonight... may as well mention that I am off to Budapest again next monday for a few days. I intend to get a post up before I go - some longer tracks, perhaps...
Also: If anyone has any info on the music scene there, re live gigs next week, it would be much appreciated - eclectic is my taste so... improv/free jazz/noise/laptop/electronic/experimental or whatever... or anything happening on the art/mixed media scene...

Mistakes, mistakes... an ongoing situation...

Just got the last post up and a comment arrived, kindly pointing out that I had screwed up another link in a previous post. Annoying! My apologies... the link has been corrected - and here it is again just to make sure

Evan Parker (ss)
Banda (O.D.J.B.)

Barry Altschul... Shelley Manne... Cecil Taylor... Al Cohn/Bob Brookmeyer... Sonny Terry/Brownie McGhee

Barry Altschul, from 1977, the title track of the album 'You can't name your own tune.' Starts off brisk and busy, then Muhal comes through quickly for a solo, single line and swirl, horn riffs bridging this and Lewis's trombone, borne along on a strong tide that floods most of the sonic space, not allowing Lewis much room in the mix, that ebbs slightly then dies off for Dave Holland to come through and solo. Ending on a fast walk to bring in Rivers. Interesting – more space now opening than for the other horn as the piano drops out and the drummer holds off. Ensemble return to finish. A strange track, somehow, in its combination of tight writing and free solos that do not, however, stray too far from camp. As what was not often the case in earlier recordings, the bass is very up in the mix here – which blocks the trombone perhaps, muddying things a tad here and there as the bustling hyper-hustle of the drummer covers much of the canvas. Still – you can't have everything. Fascinating stuff...

Shelley Manne was doing some interesting work in 1954... His drums open on 'Abstract No 1,' followed by tenor and trumpet, an integral part of the three lined movement through this precursor of free jazz in the melodic/sonic way he intertwines with the horns, messing up the then-accepted (although increasingly fragile) jazz givens of rhythm/melody/harmony. Giuffre switches to clarinet and his inimitable bucolic tone adds another colour to the palette – back to baritone at the end. A sure-footed step into new areas – exploring sound, colour and texture, a long ways from bebop but not as dry as much of the third stream would become.

Cecil Taylor... 'I forgot,' take one. This is early on in his recorded career and the more fascinating because of that. He first recorded in that epochal Death of Bird year, 1955 – 'Jazz Advance,' the album, but this is from the marathon Candid sessions of 1961. The young Archie Shepp, who sometimes seemed to be floundering on some tracks (understandably), here contributes well to the sombre mood of this slow, smoky performance. Two sections - Taylor thoughtful, calm, dropping occasional astringencies into the proceedings but nothing like his usual galloping energy. Neidlinger adding deep arco bass as Shepp wanders through with almost dreamlike tenor. A pause - then the drummer gives spasmodic cymbals, Taylor enters on floating, distant piano, spartan drifting figures. Charles gives restrained cymbal splashes like breaths before bass, tenor and then piano return. A sudden rush, falling away. The whole, like a slow fragmented episodic blur, riffing on the elusiveness of memory - 'I Forgot?' And similar to the Shelley Manne piece in its handling of colours and mood...

To measure the distance travelled, the spaces laid out in new mapping... A 1957 date from Al Cohn and Bob Brookmeyer, from which comes this track, 'Lazy Man Stomp.' A fast yet frothy romp – you could imagine people jiving to this. Cohn was a pretty good sax player, one of the original 'Four Brothers' in Woody Herman's Second Herd, (I think he followed Herbie Steward into the section -who is, according to the link, the only surviving member of that illustrious fraternal grouping) whose arranging/composing skills took over his career, although he kept up a long-term sporadic partnership with other Brother Zoot Sims. A Brookmeyer composition – the title might give that away, perhaps, evocative of an earlier era in jazz that the trombonist always kept a foot and a large piece of his heart in. Good solos all round - including a crystal clear Mose Allison, playing a sideman's role here, rocked along nicely by some punchy drumming from Nick Stabulas and Teddy Kotick's masterfully sprung bass. To say this is solidly swinging and satisfying would be to under-praise it (in a wreckless splash of unintentionally Miltonic sibilance - hissing 'like Medusa's head in wrath' indeed as James Russell Lowell says here... [long scroll down]). The interest for me in selecting these tracks is that, given the haphazard way I pick them, how fascinating it is to let them bounce off each other in such a spontaneous way. I can't help but compare 'Lazy Man Stomp' to the Altschul piece above, given the similar ensemble - trombone and tenor plus rhythm section - this is much clearer, oddly more space allowed for the music, much as I like the other recording. And the drumming is equally as forceful here...

Sonny and Brownie – 'Stranger Blues.' That fine-sprung bounce of Brownie's guitar leads them in after a brief spoken delineation, with Terry's harmonica running across like an effervescent hound dog in the breaks between their matched vocals, also punctuated by Sonny's high woops. By the time this was recorded in the sixties they had fine-honed their style – but it works so well. I saw them a couple of years later in London, headlining a big blues show and they were wonderful. And in Dublin on what was their last European tour together, must have been in the late seventies. They were still great...

Barry Altshul
Barry Altshul (d) Sam Rivers (ts) George Lewis (tr) Muhal Richard Abrams (p) Dave Holland (b)
You can't name your own tune


Shelley Manne
Shelley Manne (d) Shorty Rogers (t) Jimmy Guiffre (ts, cl, bs)
Abstract No 1


Cecil Taylor
Archie Shepp (ts) Cecil Taylor (p, cel) Buell Neidlinger (b) Denis Charles (d)
I forgot take one


Al Cohn/Bob Brookmeyer
Al Cohn (ts) Bob Brookmeyer (tr) Mose Allison (p) Teddy Kotick (b) Nick Stabulas (d)
Lazy Man Stomp


Sonny Terry (v, hca) Brownie McGhee (g, v)
Stranger Blues


Sunday, January 06, 2008

Mistakes, mistakes...

My apologies - in my rush earlier to get out into the demi-monde of God's Little Acre and fall into bad company (well, I'm a little stir-crazy due to illness over xmas/new year), I inadvertently screwed up the link to the Arthur Doyle mp3 - by linking to the Ornette Coleman one again. Philosophically, I can figure that Ornette twice is OK by me - but it's still annoying if you are looking for something else (jazz joke in there somewhere). Thanks to Happy in Bag for kindly alerting me... the link has now been changed. Or you can grab it here:

Arthur Doyle
African Queen

Gil Evans... Hampton Hawes... Arthur Doyle... Ornette Coleman...

Gil Evans in 1961, coming 'Out of the Cool.' Perhaps... anyway, I've offered other tracks from this album so here's the last one, 'Sister Sadie,' the Horace Silver soul jazz composition. It has been said elsewhere that this is a bit of an anti-climax compared to the others... maybe more of a stomper, less filigree in the arrangement – but it more than does the job. Perhaps the theme doesn't offer much more than this treatment, pleasing though it is? Johnny Coles takes first solo honours over gruff horn riffs, soaring high and clean. The ensemble take over for a chirpy rephrase of the theme – then Ray Crawford solos on guitar, dogged interestingly by Evans' piano chording. Some almost tailgating trombones – very old-school – lead on for solo trombone to emerge from the pack. More ensemble re-bending of the theme, interspersed with spattering drums before 'Sister Sadie' proper emerges for the ride-out, capped by a flourish from Coles and more battering drums... Maybe there is more in this track than seems at first apparent...

Hampton Hawes from a date in 1955, the old warhorse 'These Foolish Things.' Piano twinkling slowly in to lay the ground for the bass to take the melody as Hawes switches to chords in the background. Veteran Red Mitchell expands fluently then Hawes takes it up, mixing rhapsodic chords with a boppy single line until the bass returns for another solo. Relaxed, nothing world-shattering – but satisfying...

Wild man Arthur Doyle with a rough and ready track from one of his home recording sessions – on a walkman, I think. Doyle spins off the alternate line of free jazz that is more rooted in blues, r and b and gospel – fountainhead Albert Ayler - and I find his playing refreshingly unpretentious and full of unexpected twists. Starts on opened mike tape hiss (the background throughout, giving an approximation of the movement of air as if he was recording in the open) and tentative honkings- then vocal from Doyle – some scat across the linkages of 'Africa' and 'America.' More horn, working up a deep-throated movement that whaps upwards into strangled high register squalls... back into a swaying line bucking around fragments of melody teased out and cajoled. FREE jazz... with some extraordinary sonorites extracted from the reed of his instrument. From the line of American Mavericks... ('I love being underground, man...' - taken from here...).

Talking of whom... Ornette from a late seventies date in France. 'The Changes' from 'Who's Crazy, Volume 1.' (A double irony in track and album title?). One of his best lineups, in my opinion, just bass and drums, allowing full range for his full instrumental armory. Straight in on trumpet – no virtuoso he (and many hate his brass and violin playing) but the line holds – the shape of his playing is what is important, perhaps. Buttressed by the rollicking roll of Moffett and Izenzon's steady bass, there's an almost Milesian vulnerability to his playing. The violin comes scrabbling in on a repeated figure that is worked through and beyond in a long arcing hoedown. The balance is weird, as if he is walking away from the mike in places, adding another spatial expansion. A sudden drop – then saxophone takes over as the tempo slows. Stabs of notes breaking up the rhythm to a stutter. To suddenly pick up speed and run away. Oddly, he plays more on his other instruments than on the sax here. Slowing down at the end – swooning figures from Izenzon's arco bass as the violin returns.

Gil Evans
Johnny Coles, Phil Sunkel (t) Keg Johnson, Jimmy Knepper, Tony Studd (tr) Bill Barber (tuba) Ray Beckenstein, Eddie Cain, Budd Johnson, Bob Tricarico (ww, saxes, flute etc) Ray Crawford (g) Ron Carter (b) Charlie Persip, Elvin Jones (d)
Sister Sadie


Hampton Hawes
Hampton Hawes (p) Red Mitchell (b)
These foolish things


Arthur Doyle (ts, voc)
African Queen


Ornette Coleman
Ornette Coleman (t, vl, as) David Izenzon (b) Charles Moffat (d)
The Changes

Buy – good luck finding this one...

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Seasonal mix 4- download link...

Just realised that I forgot to put up the download link for the Xmasmix4 - so here it is:


Also added to original post.

Well - it was New year!