Review: Day Two/Freedom of the City Festival, Conway Hall, London, Monday 3d May, 2010...

Afternoon:

A crowded hall, ready for John Butcher and Mark Sanders, saxophones and drums, a palpable hum of expectation.  Butcher out fast with greasy, smeary tenor saxophone as Sanders bounced rhythms and sounds around him.  Not all sturm und drang – plenty of episodes where Butcher displayed his remarkable technique on both saxes, multiphonics, snapping/popping of the reed, digging deep into the ontology of the instrument, as it were.  Sanders had small metal bowls and cymbals to bow and scrape and rub against his kit to match the granular excursions.  Exploratory – and held together throughout, no meandering, each playing for the other.  When they finished, the audience gave them a rapturous reception.  Lot of lurve here...

Jennifer Allum/Grundick Kasyansky/David O'Connor/Eddie Prévost:
Eddie Prévost runs regular workshops for improvisers in London and this set showcases some of his participants.  Electronics, baritone sax, violin and Mr Prévost at his kit – although tonight, as if in penance to Gods of Improv for his forays into straight time the night before (it would have been classic if someone had suddenly displayed a banner with the message – 'Go home, dirty bopper!'  A gag for the older among you – see here...), he in the main concerned himself with finely graded texture – bowing a large gong and cymbals.  This was thoughtful, austere (yet almost dreamy music at times) that flowed  well – the obvious benefit of those workshop sessions.  Again, violin suffered a bit from undermiking.

Adam Bohman/FURT (Richard Barrett/Paul Obermayer)/Ute Wassermann:
Phil Marks in on drums, depping for the indisposed Richard Barrett - started a wild barrage somewhat at odds with the others.  They took a long time pre-set trying to get the balance right and... well... Ute Wassermann, one of my favourites from last year (when she played with Aleks Kolkowski see here), was struggling at times to rise above the mêlée .  A superb singer with an operatic technique that she bends successfully into the wilder shores of vocal improv, covering a gamut of sounds that FIT... Some nicely abrasive laptop interruptions.  Adam Bohmann back in the mix – despite his impressively large jumble sale table – getting some good textural noise when you could hear him.  Somehow it didn't quite coalesce, but I enjoyed it.  Perhaps a lot of the fun is the high-wire balancing acts that improvisation demands – sometimes you fall, but I'd rather be witness to that than tribute band banality...

Jean-Luc Guionnet/Ross Lambert/Philip Somervell:
I missed some of this set.  Some fascinating piano sonorities, interesting alto playing – much of the acoustic guitar playing of Lambert was under-miked in the overall balance.


EVENING

Stellari String Quartet: John Edwards/Charlotte Hug/Marcio Mattos/Philipp Wachsmann:
The players assembled  in front of the stage (again), this time I was a little better sited.  Improvising essentially chamber music, with the odd jazzy nuance, one could argue that this is what 'third stream' music should have sounded like.  They played  through the gamut of contemporary string techniques – rubbing, scraping, attacking the instrument in places on the body other than the strings and neck – but these were flowing from the music rather than being grafted on artificially, propelled by a strong emotional force.  Plenty of ideas here – a thicket of melody and sound at times, listening and looking to each other to come together or stand back.  Mattos and Edwards locked in as and when to provide a thrumming bottom bottom end and middle as Philip Wachsmann and Charlotte Hug spun off each other with shards of melody and sonic exploration.  Wachsmann wafted his violin about while bowing like an old-time hoedowner at a couple of points.  To improvise music of this level of creativity and coherence is a mighty achievement.  A gas, as we used to say... Unfortunately, this was the last of the festival for me – I had plans to get across town to the Cafe Oto to catch Carlas Bozulich but just ran out of energy...

Summation: some marvellous music, some that didn't quite work but I applaud the participants for their risks – and that's only my opinion anyway.  A couple of other blog reviews - Mapsadaisical one and two and Daid Grundy's very details account here to consider...  A festival – especially one like this, with so much concentrated in a relatively short time space of two days – will – and should - always offer a collision of styles and strategies.  Put it this way - there was no musician or group of performers that I would not want to see again, either here (next year) or in other contexts/venues.  Evan Parker shouldered much of the compering duties and he was both amusing and acerbic – rants aplenty.  Despite his acrid observation that Time Out had not bothered to give them a mention, my overall observation was that the audience was out in force for demanding musics and seem to me to be much more of a cross-section in age and sex than when I first went to this event a few years ago back at the much-lamented Red Rose.  Evan said that they will be back next year and I look forward to that.  The only downside for me was that some of the miking seemed underbalanced, especially for the acoustic stringed instruments – violin, cello, guitar.  Wish list?  Same as last year... I think that the festival could benefit from some more interesting electronic performers.  It would be interesting to see how the noise mob would fit in - after all many of them base their musics on improvisation.  It's a little on the academic side here, compared to the fire and energy available in other areas.  I'd enjoy someone like Aaron Dilloway on stage with Steve Noble, say, a power sax player and John Edwards (if his bass was balanced in the mix)... But let's be thankful this festival in still ongoing and congratulations to all who make it happen... 

Review: Day One/Freedom of the City Festival at the Conway Hall, London, Sunday May 2nd, 2010

Back to the Conway Hall for another Freedom of the City Festival... I skated in just in time to grab a drink and a seat, caught the opener, Peter Evans. One might think that solo trumpet was a bit on the austere side to start the fandango – however, Evans was revelatory, playing to a packed hall on amplified trumpet and cornet (I think) with some minimal adjustments via a foot pedal. Fancifully, you could consider this as a history lesson, linking back to the early days of jazz when developing an individual sound was paramount. The shift from the standard classical/marching band tone to 'vocalised' instrumental individuality. Part of the fun of being a 'jazz' fan was/is in blindfold tests - identifying a player by his sound. This was inherent in the music from the start, it seems. So when Peter Evans fires off a flashing bravura melodic line bending back in and out of bebop, or earlier, his tonal alterations – squeezed half-valve, a variety of muted effects – simultaneously are part of the contemporary 'avant garde' preoccupations with sound experiments and also deeply embedded in the line that goes back through Rex Stewart to Bubber Miley and beyond. He showed a lot of variation and a shrewd sense of dynamics - the brassy fire of the trumpet was contrasted by the smaller instrument, lighter, clarion pure. And Evans' participation in a trio with Evan Parker (and cellist Okkyung Lee) later in the day was perhaps prefigured by some occasional relentless circular breathed passages that reminded of the elder saxophonist's technique. An impressive start, then – to a fairly full hall.

Okkyung Lee and Paul Lytton:
Cello and drums/percussion, Lytton going from delicate to fiery, leaving space when necessary, as when Lee stopped strings with the left hand way down the neck near the bridge and bowed to produce dry, sharp sounds. When she went deeper in the cello range, richer textures emerged. Highly intelligent music where mutual listening was essential. Lytton – sporting a two-hihat setup, interestingly could so easily have overpowered, but had in his armoury a full range of ironmongery to produce high sonorities, rubbed, lightly struck or played on the drums and cymbals to produce interesting clashing/additional sounds. Bit more mike on the cello, perhaps... a small criticism I could make of the festival overall, where delicate textural balances were often not audible enough in the mix.

Tania Chen/Lol Coxhill/Dominic Lash:
Lol, of course, will never be too far away from jazz, even when he ventures into saxophone sound manipulations a rich flowing seam of melody is never covered for long. He is the dominant player here tonight, ably supported by a restrained Dominic Lash on bass. Chen is fairly minimal in her interjections with occasional forays inside the piano. Towards the end of their set she suddenly unleashed some smashing clusters, elbows to the keyboard, that changed the overall direction, shaking it up nicely. Not sure that this trio really hit the spot although they played some interesting music, maybe Lol is too 'jazzy' this afternoon to go into some of the areas implied by his partners. I'd like to hear them again – in a club situation perhaps, where the piano may come through more.

I missed the last set of the afternoon - the London Improvisers Orchestra - but got back in time for the evening session...

QuaQua – is John Russell's yearly ever-changing lineup, tonight featuring Chris Burn at the Bosendorfer plus electronics, bookended with Matthew Hutchinson at a Roland keyboard and added effects. In between - Stefan Keune, saxophone, Satoko Fukuda, violin, Henry Lowther, trumpet the leader on guitar and Jean-Michel Van Schouwberg, voice. The latter's gurning facial distortions were very distracting – I'm not a great fan of vocal improv with a few exceptions (one of whom would be playing on the next day) so am probably easily pissed off. Although putatively a collective experience – the leader's guitar is never dominant, although I wonder if this is deliberate or just that under-miking again – Lowther's declaratory trumpet led the show. Not that he overplayed – he is far too good a musician for that. This group proceeds by small increments of sound, splashes and scrapes of colour that suddenly coalesce into unusual shapes, at points erupting then suddenly falling again.  A somewhat ascetic approach, perhaps, leavened by the trumpet and the Roland adding some nice rumbling electronic details.  The gurning aside, I enjoyed it a lot.



Louis Moholo-Moholo/Steve Noble/Ishmael Wadada Leo Smith:

The famed trumpeter had apparently requested a two drummer hit to back him. He's a cool looker, dreadlocks and dark glasses, a player of flashing and assured brilliance. I've been listening to a lot of his recorded work recently so was looking forward to hearing him live. Steve Noble set the pace with a thunderous barrage from the off, leaving Louis Moholo looking a little puzzled, perhaps. He seemed to have difficulty finding his way in and Noble was not going to step back, it seemed. They were playing in front of the stage and from where I was sitting at the back, I didn't get a clear view of the set. Smith took care of everything thrown at him, as one would expect from someone of his stature, riding the rhythms with power and invention. Further in, Moholo set up an occasional groove, at one point with just the insistent ticking beats of two sticks. There was some vocal interchange that I didn't quite grab: Mapsadaisical records it thus:
'He even tried to cut the set short; “No, baby” he said at a quiet moment when Noble was threatening to drive things back up to another powerful rhythmic peak. “Yes, baby” said a clearly not-yet-finished Wadada, and off they went again.' From here...

Again, great to hear good musicians, but a little hit and miss, pulled along by Smith's experience. Hey, they call it improvisation...

SUM was Seymour Wright, Eddie Prevost and Ross Lambert on alto, drums and guitar. An odd line-up, given my previous experience of Seymour whom I have grown to greatly appreciate. Eddie was hitting straight time in places (!), Lambert played a lot throughout – too much perhaps, I felt that he didn't seem to handle silences very well. Seymour – well, he's noted for minimal and precise interrogations of his instrument, materially and, perhaps, philosophically/conceptually. Tonight he played more than I have heard him before – although given that most sax players will fire off a string of sixteenth notes and he might play – one, two, three if you're lucky – this was still not a great deal. He will hang on a note and repeat it, turning it around and about, tip it sideways.  Tonight he would suddenly give a small flourish of something approaching melody. More flurries than one is used to – and some accurate high register stuff. I found it fascinating...

Evan Parker/Peter Evans/Okkyung Lee:

The guv'nor with two younger players, Evan on his usual tenor and soprano saxophones joined by Lee on cello and Peter Evans on his brass. No feints, stabs of jabs of sound to set things up – straight in with three superb players weaving and spinning complex interlocking/opposing lines in a glorious tapestry. They have played together before and it shows in their mutual understanding.  I mentioned above that during his solo set Evans's circular breathing gave hints of where Parker has gone before: tonight in this tight trio, the saxophonist being generous and reining back his formidable technique to blend with the others. Sonorities changed between tenor and soprano and back, similarly Evans switched between his trumpet and the smaller instrument. A delicate balance necessary for more granular playing as it would have been – and was on occasion – easy to step into the cello's sound space (the miking again!) – luckily most of it came through. At one point Evan did launch one of his circular passages and sucked everyone along with him – Evans replying in kind to hit another level of exhilaration. Stunning music. Given my fanciful thought about the opening set and its link to the tradition, you could imagine this three-way contrapuntal blowout as similarly linked to the early collective tradition of New Orleans – via European avant garde chamber music. Oh play that thing...

Freedom of the City Festival, 2010...

Finally back in God's Little Acre from the Freedom of the City Festival - which I thought the best yet... more to follow when I've had some sleep (honest - I've written most of it already)... Great and challenging music, good crowds, Evan P on fine ranting form (you had to be there)... But I missed Carla Bozulich at the Oto - had an idea I could do the double yesterday but ran out of energy... to get back to a hotel where they were digging up the road outside until 1.30 am this morning... loudly.  Didn't even have a recorder with me to sample it...
Later... much later...

Review: Ken Vandermark/Paal Nielssen Love plus John Edwards at the Cafe Oto, Friday, April 23d, 2010...

Back to the Cafe Oto again... and a good seat up close and personal – although with drummer Paal Nilssen Love nearer to me, some of Ken Vandermark's playing was a little muffled at times. According to his Twitter feed, 'Easyjet damages the baritone, can't play it' so he stuck to tenor and clarinet tonight. First set was as a duo and hurtled straight off into the fray, Vandermark using melodic fragments as his base, firing the permutations around at speed, gunslinging tenor sax, as the drummer cracked along mightily, in the main using hi-hat, snare and floor tom for the engine room. But for all his heavy hitting- even when he repeatedly favoured brushes, he got as much bite as swoosh - Paal Nilssen Love has an impressive grasp of dynamics, knowing when to drop back, using his high-hat, cowbell and cymbals for colouration or adding small cymbals, woodblocks, tambourine laid on the drum skins. Vandermark is a gutsy tenor saxophonist with a mastery of the ranges from deep down honk up to high squeal pushed through fast linearities, yet he will also hover over a phrase, chew it up and extract as much groove juice as possible, riding the riffs. Traces maybe of the the Chicago heritage he became a major part of, blues and then some, Southside to experimental and back. Given Paal Nielssen Love's similar propensity to slip from implied pulses back to almost Blakey-like hihat bebop ker-chings and at one point a lolloping 6/8, they provide plenty of common reference pointers back into the tradition. 'Free jazz' has come a long way in that respect, working now with such an expanded vocabulary, that a dash of 'swing' is quite refreshing. Vandermark is also a composer of note which gives his performance an architectural wholeness, form rising from improvised content but a flexible form perhaps shadowly implicit. This is music that communicates – without dumbing down. Eventually he switched to clarinet and was equally impressive, using circular breathing at times, judging by his facial movements, oddly avoiding the chalameau register in the main in favour of higher declarations. The clarinet seems to be edging back into favour these last few years. This higher register worked well over the swirl of the drums but it wasn't all squall and blatter – throughout the first set they edged into quieter episodes where melodic interrogation went sideways into colour and sonic texture. Vandemark ended their first set with a clarinet feature – maybe this was one of his compositions rather than a totally free improvisation? The melody seemed naggingly familiar, with a dash of Monk influence to my ears... Ending quietly, coming to rest...

Grab a bit of the duo flavour (with Vandermark on baritone - here...

Second set with John Edwards, bass about town, added. Vandemark had not played with him before but Edwards was at full throttle straight away, joining the tenor with his bow to arco along with the opening melodic statements and locking seamlessly in with the drums.  Edwards' ferocious attack is powered by hands that seem to have superhuman strength in order to stand up to the assault of flesh and bone on string and wood. He plays with such ferocity that he broke a string (again – that's the second time I've seen this happen in a couple of months). Less flowing tenor lines here, more concentration on group interaction – again Vandemark would lock on various riffs and exploit their repetitions with small changes. Perhaps a wise move – in this context, with the added busyness of the bass and no direct miking, longer lines would tend to get a little lost in the thickets of sound being generated. The riff taken onwards... When they slipped into the more abstract areas of granularities, breath/embouchural manipulations, hands on drums, cymbals, added small effects, Edwards' large sonic canvas scored high, his rubbings, scrapings and expansions of the conventional sound world of the bass providing mighty additions to enlarging and enriching the immediately expanding terrain. Solos all round, Love providing some roisterous drums alongside his more contemplative forays into sonorities, Edwards using bow, hands to pluck, slap and pummel, in one passage skittering near to more conventional jazz lines with accurate and fast pizzicato walking. Vandemark deployed his clarinet to good effect again, the high register sailing over the clattering middle and bottom with elegant freedom. Near the end he gave a breathy held note on tenor that seemed to be a signal to stop – but the other two continued for another couple of minutes until another long note finally brought the performance to another quiet conclusion.

Great stuff. From his Twitter again: '...burning trio with John Edwards- great.' Succinct and accurate...
So: another extremely enjoyable night down at the Oto – flying the flag for free jazz... I love this place and the continuing variety of superb musicians they have been bringing in, the intimacy where you can see/hear close up the nuances and shifts that make up a successful improvisatory snatched-in-the-moment experience. The lager is crap, though, but a small sacrifice – the art not the booze, or something... ars longa lager brevis...
Next Sunday - off to Freedom in the City - and Carla Bozulich on the monday night...

Alan Sillitoe 1928-2010...

Sad news that one the truly great English writers has just died - Alan Sillitoe. A hero of mine, especially coming from just up the road, Nottingham, and one of the few writers, in my opinion, to stand near his earlier neighbour, D.H. Lawrence. Tough, uncompromising, unique, an anarchic presence in the over-ordered house of Brit literature - where there aren't many great writers these days, apart from Iain Sinclair and a couple of others. I re-read his William Posters Trilogy recently and marveled at the freshness and hope, passages of stunning writing. Forget Amis, McEwan and co... We shall not see his like...

Vandermark/Love/Edwards...

Just got back from London after attending another mighty gig at the Cafe Oto - first night of Ken Vandermark/Paal Nilssen Love's gig, with John Edwards in attendance.  Maybe review to follow - not making any more rash statements of intent, given the last few weeks!

Arkestra...

Just back from London and my head is still spinning from the fantastic gig last night - The Sun Ra Arkestra (directed by Marshall Allen) at the Cafe Oto. More later...

figure of outward...

It's my birthday - so what better time than to launch a new album/venture: figure of outward/one which will be on the RUU label - sited now at Bandcamp.

  Music and info here

Pete Morton at the Musician...

Over to Leicester on a raw, miserable night - to be uplifted by Pete Morton, previewing new material for an upcoming album.  Stirring, brilliant, maybe review to follow... This man is always moving, never content to fall back on nostalgia/safety, and his new songs are well up to his own high standard...

Eartrip 5 out...

Just got back from a damp Sussex and discovered that David Grundy has just upped
Eartrip 5... worth a read, folks - a labour of love... download links are on the site...

Review: Joe McPhee/Chris Corsano with John Edwards/Paul Dunmall at the Cafe Oto, Tuesday 9th March, 2010...

Wordsworth famously wrote in his introduction to 'Lyrical Ballads': 'poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.' There was plenty of 'spontaneous overflow' flying around on Tuesday evening last at the Cafe Oto, the first leg of Joe McPhee/Chris Corsano's two night residency and the end result was: instant poetry. Joined by master bassman Jon Edwards and Paul Dunmall on tenor saxophone, a fascinating gig unfolded – one of the best of the year in a year so far full of them. Tranquility a plenty here this morning... but the recollection scenario may be a trifle more complicated. A few days back and no notes taken, only the snapshots and aural fragments remain in this ageing bundle of synapses. And I am not the poet but the inadequate carrier, the origins and immediate results were on the night. But here we go:

Opening with the headliners, drummer/percussionist Corsano and McPhee on alto saxophone, starting quietly with discreet noises, taps and rattles, breathy ghost notes, they soon started to stretch out across the territory available. Which given the majestic pedigree of Joe McPhee and the younger Corsano's awesome technique is a wide, wide open space. McPhee is a master of multisonics on his instruments and Corsano uses an expanded kit and often electronics to buttress his rhythmic muse. Their explorations moved from small gestures - some on the brink of audibility, a fascinating move in this crowded room but it worked, forcing you to concentrate - to the wilder polyrhythmic shores of Corsano unleashed, with McPhee hard-blowing over the top. McPhee's experiments with sounds and granularities were balanced by a strong melodic anchoring throughout. A modal/folkish feel at times.

They were eventually joined by John Edwards and Paul Dunmall, the bass player starting in with clicky, fast finger-picked figures high up the neck, one hand plucking and fretting as the other chased it, before he went deeper into the range and locked in with the drums. Dunmall up, for a trio at first as Mcphee dropped back, tonight playing more fully, I thought, than the other week with Matthew Shipp, in the first set unleashing torrents of long lines, a big brawling warm-hearted sound. McPhee eventually joined them, going between his alto and his pocket trumpet, this last a high-scrabbling that ran in exhilarating tandem with Dunmall. Onwards, they veered between fire music and filigree: smaller, quieter interludes – a master exercise in dynamics over this long set, finishing on a fantastic duo section between saxophone and trumpet.

Second half. Dunmall more oblique in places, short abrupt phrases tossed rhythmically about - although he unleashed plenty of longer line linearity, there was a more jagged feel, spiced with some deep blats and honks out of the classic r and b playbook. A varied set again, with the musicians splitting into trios, duos and occasional solos. McPhee hauled out his soprano to add to alto and trumpet, giving a more powerful weaving with Dunmall's tenor – the pocket trumpet struggled a little throughout due to its relatively lighter sonority. Again – what was striking was the ability the band had to move between sonic abstraction and more 'jazz' pulse orientated improvisations. Solos all round, of course – Corsano brought the house down with his and Edwards was his formidable self, McPhee and Dunmall equally assured in their expositions, the older man pushing further outwards on his instruments than the tenor saxophonist yet always returning – as did Dunmall – to primal melody. What was fascinating was the expanded space created where movement freely crossed the usual barriers – it was not 'jazz' with added sonics unsteadily grafted on or the reverse but a music in the moment that moved fluidly between these vaguely signposted areas and beyond. Several times throughout I suddenly realised that one section, say a duo between drummer and bassist which had been digging deep into expanded technical sonic gestures, bowed cymbals, frottaged bass, for example, had suddenly edged back in to the whole band rocking at full blast – with no perceived 'join' or Zornian jumpcut - rather a natural movement of mutual authority and widened vocabularies.

If a word summed up the evening, it would be 'generosity.' McPhee shared his sets equably and amicably, giving each performer plenty of opportunity to strut their considerable stuff while displaying the generous range of his own talents. A pure master. Put this all together and you have a satisfyingly/stimulatingly generous range of music – that 'spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings,' the instantaneous musical poetry of which is later commented on – here - in hazardous recollection and some 'tranquility.' The memory does not create the poetry. In this case – it was already there in the moment... Trust me on that at least...

Without generosity, there is no adventure... let Joe McPhee have the last word:

'This music...call it jazz or whatever, is a living thing, not museum music...it needs to take risks in order to adapt and survive.'
(From here... )

Almost there...

At last - almost finished the (incredibly) belated review of last week's Joe McPhee/Chris Corsano first night... upping it soon...

Joe McPhee and co...

Off to London in the morning for a couple of days - Cafe Oto tomorrow for another go round - this time, the mighty Joe McPhee in fast company: Chris Corsano, John Edwards and Paul Dunmall. It doesn't get a lot better than this... review no doubt to follow...

Review: Matthew Shipp with John Edwards/Paul Dunmall/Mark Sanders at Cafe Oto, Friday February 12th, 2010...

At least it wasn't raining... but another grey day when I arrived in London with any idea of getting down to see the Arshile Gorky exhibition given up when I got out of St Pancras.

Got to the Cafe Oto in good time – I had mentally earmarked my position on the bench by the back wall so wanted to get through the doors early enough to grab it. Mission accomplished. Another crowded night for the first leg of New Yorker Matthew Shipp's three day tenure here, tonight supported by the mighty John Edwards, Mark Sanders and one of my all-time favourite horn players, Paul Dunmall.

Shipp starts, leading off slowly down low and the band come in. Dunmall plays a repeated short motif that I'd heard while they were doing a soundcheck and it pops up throughout the sets. At first Edwards' bass was struggling in the mix due to the deep thunder of Shipp's monster chords tangling up the sonic levels between the two instruments. You could feel the bass more than hear it. Mark Sanders was ticking along lightly, occasional flurries and sudden timbral rips coming through, a drummer who plays as much with expanded sonorities as well as rhythm. The bass became clearer as the bottom levels settled down – adjustment on the p.a.? Or just the band feeling their way through, perhaps? Shipp is a two-fisted player, introducing a reiterated thumping march-like series of chords that became another anchor for this set, echoed by the bass in places. The quartet divided up into occasional duos, or Dunmall dropping out for the piano, bass and drums, sections that occasionally evoked earlier modern jazz conventions with comping left hand and right hand spinning oblique melodies. As the set progressed Sanders became louder, more assertive, probably realising that the lower register hammerings of the piano needed more rhythmic stridency to balance up. Shipp was playing tough stuff, lightened up with occasional quieter flourishes. As the bass and drums balanced up, Edwards really started to drive it along – taking a short solo at one point that demonstrated all his skills – arco crossed with up-the- neck pizzicato one hand pinches and flurries, slaps to the instrument's bodywork, a dazzling display. As ever.
Dunmall inserted small chunks of melody into the fray, spinning into more elongated lines when the spirit moved, mainly within the standard tenor range, with some throaty lower register honks and blats.
An intriguing set, this first night, it was fascinating to witness these four musicians finding their places in the available spaces – or creating fresh areas to explore. The piano, of course, adds a verticality that had to be coped with. High energy stuff, nevertheless...

Second half. Shipp inside the piano, plucking bell- like tones for bass and the drummer to respond to. A game these guys know well – answered and echoed, Sanders moving to smaller instruments – brass bowls struck with mallets and cymbal manipulations. Creating a totally different sound environment from the first set which was intelligent planning. Dunmall stood benignly to the side for a while until he joined them with a breathy single repeated note, varying the timbre to fit the mood being evoked. Almost imperceptibly they moved back into band mode and 'free jazz.' Again, passages between the piano, bass and drums that approached a conventional 'jazz' swing – nothing as blatant as bebop and beyond cymbal ker-ching ker-ching and finger snaps on the off beats but a fluid rhythmic movement. Getting towards the end, they started to roar, Dunmall finding his feet on these thorny paths with some hard blowing negotiations. Ending on storms of applause. Rightly so. An intriguing night and I wish I could have gone to the next two to see how this all developed. Shipp did not play much solo piano which was a shame, perhaps, but obviously he had decided this was a communal effort. His piano, however, dominated the ensemble, powerful sonorities rising from hammered-out chords, never afraid of grabbing a chunk of clusters and banging them out repeatedly with great ferocity or using the ominous descending march-like progression which occurred several times and this vertical density dictated to a greater extent which way the music would move. Edwards and Sanders – and Dunmall perhaps to a fractionally lesser extent – rose to the challenges offered. I'm starting to fall in love with the Cafe Oto...

En passant... Matthew Shipp is noted for the variety of his collaborations, not just inside the 'jazz' continuum but beyond... Mapsadaisical has a good review here of his Saturday night performance with J Spaceman, John Coxon and Steve Noble...

Back...

Back from London... a mighty gig at the Cafe Oto on Friday night - the first leg of the three - Matthew Shipp on fine piano pounding form, buttressed by John Edmunds, Mark Sanders and Paul Dunmall. Review to follow at some point - deciphering the Scrawls, as it were... sometime after early doors, one suspects. It's one of those days...

See below...

Forgot to mention below - there is a good review of the Brötzmann residency's
third night here...

Review: Peter Brötzmann with Tony Marsh, John Edwards, Roland Ramanan at the Cafe Oto, London, Thursday 28th January, 2010...

I went to London for a couple of days last week in search of much-needed r and r. Already had a ticket for the Peter Brötzmann gig at the Cafe Oto and was looking forward to hearing him again. Arrived somewhat exhausted and had to have a rest before I went out in search of Dalston and the venue – by which time the rain was lashing down. An unpropitious start... I arrived a little too early and was reduced to huddling in a door outside the club where I met a young guy who had driven down from Manchester for the gig – a big Brötzmann fan who also truly dug Albert Ayler so we struck up a conversation, occasionally peering into the Oto where the band were having a quick run through and the staff laying out the room for the evening. By the time the doors opened there was a sizable bedraggled mob outside... Brötz remarked, rather wrily, at the end of his London Jazz Festival gig in 2008 (review here) that he didn't get invited to London very often. Looking at the horde who turned up on a foul night, hopefully this will change in the future. I managed to get in fairly quickly and grab my position for the night – a table against the wall facing the bandstand with easy access to the bar and the toilets, old hand that I am... This was my first time at the Oto and it's a good room, a blocky L shape with the bar in the L. Nothing fancy and who needs it – I had a seat, very quickly a drink to warm me up and was ready for the shindig as the place got more and more crowded.

Herr Brötzmann came out to play a solo set first off – starting on alto then moving onto what I assume was the taragato. Straight away, what struck me was the throaty power he generated up close. I've seen him in concert at the crap South Bank in a larger space (as mentioned above) but here you are never far from the bandstand. The conversation outside had generated the reminder of Milford Graves talking about Albert A, that he could blow the house down with his formidable sound and Peter Brötzmann reminded me here of his lineage. (The late Ayler's vibrato could have matched Joshua's trumpet section at the battle of Jericho in the shaking-down-the-walls scenario, one suspects). The lungpower, no doubt built up from playing tenor all these years, added to a lot of lower range playing made the alto sound more like his once-main horn at times, although he played all over its range and balanced the deeper moments with plenty of screeching through the registers to rip out some high flying squalls. Yet it wasn't all granularity – he has a melodic, quieter side that contrasts with the sturm und drang he is noted for. Fast tough-blown scrabbles were balanced by long, yearning notes, giving a folk-ish sound, a touch of Eastern Europe perhaps, opening up some different spaces. More so on the taragato which is an instrument that originated in Hungary. He also engaged in some interesting distortions on this horn, doing a curious rubbing/strangling motion across the top keys while his other hand fingered more conventionally lower down that produced some interesting sonics. Whether it is the years taking their toll – although he looks remarkably sturdy and a level of fitness is a prerequisite for playing wind instruments – or just a musical tactic, his lines are choppier than I remember, the melodies breaking quicker, statement and comment more delineated by this into shorter units.

The second set was freejazz blowout time – with a rhythm team of Tony Marsh and John on bass, what else? Edwards and his drum partner set a fierce pace, from the off, the bass thrummed, pummelled and slapped to provide a massive sound. Joined by Roland Ramanan on trumpet, Brötzmann commenced on tenor before switching his horns around, alto, taragato, clarinet. Wild and heady stuff, everyone looked as if they were enjoying themselves, the heat of the moment at one point bearing down on Edward's bass – he broke a string early in, but kept on going. A man who plays as much bass as he does, losing a string hardly counted, annoying though it must have been. Maybe Brotzman sends out a vibe – I remember the same thing happened at the Purcell Room when his electric bass player, Marino Pliakas, snapped a string! Unusual occurrence on either instrument, I would have thought... Ramanan was an exemplary partner, stabbing and probing, commenting on the sax action and unleashing occasional forays of longer lines when the spaces emerged for his solos. By and large staying within the usual range on his horn. There was a sense of good-natured rivalry, the locals taking no prisoners, but Brötzmann is still a world class player, capable of riding any storm and replying in kind - and more. Yet although the overall vibe was wild and abandoned, there were occasional moments of calm where he brought out his more lyrical side – these brief episodes pointed up all the more by the surrounding fire.

My first visit to Oto – and I left wondering why it had taken me so long... accident, really. But I enjoyed both the music and the venue, impressed by a London audience who, on a crowded, standing room only night, listened throughout with rapt attention. Who says that free jazz can't communicate? They loved it all and applauded heartily. I'm already booked in for Matthew Shipp and the Arkestra... can't wait.

Soon...

Everything is belated at the moment - but I hope to finally get some kind of a review of Peter Brotzmann's first night at the Cafe Oto up asap...

We get requests... re-ups...

I had a request for some re-ups from the other week so here they are... Original post is here...

Evan Parker
Evan Parker (ts) Barry Guy (b) Paul Lytton (d)
Geometry
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Gene Ammons/Richard Groove Holmes
Gene Ammons (ts) Richard Holmes (org) Gene Edwards (g) Leroy Henderson (d)
Exactly like you
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Ornette Coleman
Ornette Coleman (as, tp, vln) David Izenzon (b) Charles Moffett (d)
Clergyman's Dream
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Jimmy Giuffre
Jimmy Guiffre (cl) Bob Brookmeyer (v-tr) Jim Hall (g)
Blue Monk
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Review... Future of Folk Concert at the Grand Union Club, Barrow, Monday, January 25th, 2010

Down to the Soar Bridge Inn on Monday 25th January for their young folk musicians feature, compered by Tom Kitching and Gren Bartley who also closed the show. Back in the day... many folk clubs used to be like this, a mixture of ages, old and new musics, a mélange that worked – and drew a large audience... One of my beefs with the current scene is that there is too often a preponderance of older people, playing and audience, a demographic factor that bodes ill for the future, tempered perhaps by the fact that the audiences are still around but are fragmented,  go to different venues – acoustic sessions etc. Overall, there are plenty of young musicians using 'folk' either as a mainstream or a springboard to experimentation, yet you don't always see this in the average 'folk' club. Tonight was some proof indeed that the heart is still beating in the old body. House sold out and Bill Wilkes looked a happy man as we were treated to a sample of the moment. Starting with Andy Parr who seemed absurdly young but managed the opening spot with quiet panache – he kept his nerves in check on what must have been a daunting evening. Andy plays concertina, flute, whistle and sings in a high plaintive voice. His instrumental skills passed the test – a couple of fluffs here and there not detracting from his energy and skill. For me, his singing was the highlight of the set – I don't engage with instrumental folk music in the same way so freely declare my bias – but his choice of song was interesting and intelligently placed for this crowd who have firepower to spare in the choruses but know when to rein back and not overwhelm – as tonight. The Graham Miles song 'Snows of Winter' was given a sensitive reading buttressed by the assembled voices and the surprise for me – 'Wild Mountain Thyme.' A song that I remember hearing by the McPeake Family in the mid-sixties when, as a young jazz buff, I first became acquainted with folk music, which became one of those anthems that got sang to death. Yet: tonight given a totally fresh reading. Parr's voice was especially poignant here I thought and gave a marvellous link backwards for many here tonight in a natural rather than schmalzy manner.

Like I said, instrumental folk music is not my cup of meat but the duo next up played a vibrant, bouncing set, fluency coming from their paired melodeons that demonstrated an empathy beyond just knowing the notes – apparently they have played together for a good few years and this comes over in their music. Great stuff from Claire Haliday and Lauren Kluge and a nice contrast to keep the night rolling. Could almost convert me into moseying along to a ceilidh...

The advertised band apparently had to drop out late but Gren had a dep handy – Jess Morgan, from Norwich. A singer-songwriter, thrown into a folky audience – she said self-deprecatingly 'My link to folk music is a bit tenuous' – but she made out ok and they are not a shut-down puritan audience here, in the main. Interesting mixture of fragility and strength, songs spun out from her life experience with an emotional edge that carried them along well. I thought she was great – a lucky accident that provided another dimension to the theme of the night.

Lucy Ward up to the plate. I saw her a couple of months ago at this venue and was bowled over by her energy and confidence. Very up-front – 'Ay up, you all right.' Derby neat, me duck - her accent gives a natural channel to the 'tradition' without the usual linguistic contortions. (Inverted commas used to indicate the uneasy and disputed ground that word alludes to). Lucy is very much a force of nature with an abundance of sheer good-natured energy. Like all the musicians here tonight, she has a sharp intelligence and is obviously destined for a succesful career in music - or beyond. A wide range on display – 'The Fairy Boy' and Alex Glasgow's fierce 'Close the coalhouse door,' the raw Lal Waterson song 'Red Wine and Promises,' her own compositions – from the bawdy poignance of 'The Canny Lad' to the sensitivity of 'Adelphi' and contemporary relevance of ''A Life backwards.' Lucy also gave a tribute to the late Kate McGarrigle with 'Heart like a Wheel' which hit a strong emotional chord. Going out by inviting the mighty GU4 to join her on an impromptu 'House of the Rising Sun,' which was a coup de théâtre – and another resurrected war-horse with some new breath pumped into it.

Gren and Tom – I declare my interest, knowing both these gentlemen somewhat and having reviewed them often before. As they have been building their careers – as a duo and in their separate endeavours – every time I have dropped in on various points along the road I have been impressed with the speed of the learning. New material assimilated, stage personas solidifying, technique allied to emotion, energy and commitment of course – but also the plain fact that they are diamond geezers. So I'm a star-fucker – shoot me... Onto the music. A paradigmatic start: 'Green Bed' was an old English song that travelled to the US, which justifies the backbeat on two and four. Gren and Tom have evolved a fascinating and varied repertoire that incorporates English, American material - and beyond - plus self-penned songs and tunes that flows seamlessly as guitar and banjo are swopped round.  Veering more towards the U.S. tonight with a wild version of the 'Levi Jefferson Rag,' Tom's rampaging fiddle daring Gren's fingerpicking to keep up – which it did. Followed by the old Gus Cannon song 'Walk Right In' with Gren switching to banjo.  Then a sensitive reading of Blind Willie Johnson's 'You're going to need somebody on your bond.'  They vary their sets with solo spots that showcase the variety of their interests.  Tom first tonight with a dazzling rendition of a tune the name of which I didn't catch.  Apologies to Mr Kitching... Slap ma ears... Tonight an added bonus – an old friend, Big Dave, back from his travels and invited by Gren to join him in a song they used to perform a while back during university days – a raucous version of 'Barratt's Privateers.'  Tom returned for Gren's own 'Fly Fly.'  After which, a swing back into the tradition with 'Old Sir Simon the King' - helter skelter words to a jogging rhythm.  Then the moving 'No More Auction Block' which is a brave song to attempt but they have worked out how to do a sympathetic rendition without being self-conscious about the subject matter - slavery.  'The Jolly Wagoner' was given a brisk run, the old cart bouncing on syncopation and hoe-down, as it were. 
The evening went out on  another old favourite of yesteryear, with all the musicians present invited up to play along on 'Long John.' Another link in the chain... the ghosts of skiffle evoked via the shadow of 'Long Lost John etc...

The balance they achieve between the traditions is interesting - there's a strong American influence rhythmically and an obvious debt to the blues but avoiding obvious clichés - you don't hear many bent/blue notes for example, as if the African-American streams are filtered back across the English tradition to eliminate any obvious 'blackface' renditions.

So: a great night - and one that perhaps bodes well for the future...