Finally we got there... 'Don Partridge and Company' has just been published and is available online from my storefront on Lulu/RawMusics
HERE... Links also on the book blog HERE...
Available in either paperback hard copy or digital download pdf.
And here's the guv'nor - The Earl of Mustard - in action, 1968
The proof of the book has printed and is on its way - once I've checked it, I'll do another, just to make sure everything is ok - then we should be able to go ahead and publish on 27th September. In the meantime, another teaser on the book blog, here...
A couple of rare movie clips about the Albert Hall Buskers' Concert of 1969...
I've had a problem with some of the embedded photo image files in the master document for the book 'Don Partridge and Company' so I've put the publication date back a couple of weeks while it gets sorted. I spent yesterday re-embedding the images and creating a new master document which has gone back to the on line publisher. Assuming no more problems, I still want to run a few test copies through before publishing, just to double check. New publication date (fingers crossed!): Tuesday 27th September.
A buzz going round the extended families tonight - just been sent a vid of Calum Duell, my daughter's young (well, not so young anymore) brother, who is turning out to be an accomplished musician already.
He has a YouTube vid up:
A couple of clips of buskers, taken from the film 'The London that Nobody Knows,' have been posted on the Don Partridge and Company blog - plus details of the upcoming publication. Due to go on Wednesday 14th September...
We've now sold out (or have very limited stock) of a number of our early releases.
You can now download them for free:
HI/LO001 - The (plexus) Collective - Warner/Ward: The Alephs
HI/LO002 - dj_spleenbaby - Gone with the Wind vs. The Last Starfighter
HI/LO003 - The (plexus) Collective - Warner/Ward: Axiom of Choice
HI/LO004 - The (plexus) Collective -Ward: Ekstasis
HI/LO005 - The (plexus) Collective - Warner/Ward/Teledu: Differend
HI/LO006 - The (plexus) Collective - Warner/Ward/Teledu: A Hopeless Task
HI/LO007 - The Failed NASA Experiment - First Frost
HI/LO008 - The Failed NASA Experiment - Ap Helion EP
HI/LO009 - The Failed NASA Experiment - Ohrwurm
Then there was Stinking Badger... Dave Teledu, A-Bander and co-member of Plexus with myself and Murray Ward, has a solo album out under this moniker on The Lows and the Highs. Sonic explorations from north of where I am... Soiling Charge...
My head has been down these last couple of weeks. Under the radar, as it were...
With the book pretty much finished and almost ready to launch, I've been recharging the batteries. Reading a lot - and one book I just finished, William Gibson's latest, 'Zero History,' made me think of Lustfaust, James Shovlin's conceptual project from a couple of years ago. Then I remembered that one of the people involved with Mr Shovlin, Murray Ward, had just made some material available over on 'The Lows and the Highs,' for whom I sporadically record. Bitte Nicht Biegen. Meant to post this at the time but forgot... As there were only three of the handmade packages, these might have gone, but Murray has also released everything as digital downloads etc. ' One of the great art works of the last fifty years,' as Guido Van Baelen, one of the surviving members of Lustfaust, said in the Berlin Club Ausland one late night last year. (It was very noisy so I think that's what he said).
Lustfaust could have been managed by Hubertus Bigend, Gibson's enigmatic genius...
Just got the proof copy back and it's looking good so far. There is a new post on the book blog here with a photo from Leicester Square in 1968 and three short extracts...
Alongside the book 'Don Partridge and Company' which I have been working on with Pat Keene (and the late Don Partridge up to his untimely death last year) I managed to publish a book of poetry. 'Poems Twenty Eleven,' now available from my Lulu/Rawmusics publish on demand outlet. Which is here...
Murrays Ward's label The Lows and the Highs (for which I record the odd album or two) getting more publicity out there. Byron Coley has some good words for KPTMichigan and Black Stepdad split above in July's Wire... Note: this is a co-release by The Lows and the Highs and MirrorWorldMusic.
Edging towards the end now - Don Partridge and Company by Don Partridge, Pat Keene and Rod Warner will be published in the first week of September, if all goes well. I've launched a blog to act as a trailer for the book and that will have publishing details etc when the time comes - here...
The interlocking stories of three young street musicians, ranging from Bohemian Paris in the early 1960's to London - and beyond. One of them became famous...
A rum night... I got to the Cafe Oto and found a really good seat, couple of rows back from the stage, fairly central and sat in pleasant anticipation with a pint of the Oto's worthy but foul lager in front of me and somewhere to put it, for a change – the house was busy but did not get as full as it was the last time Gayle was here in January. I had wondered about the line-up: Bobby Few, legendary piano player, cohort of Albert Ayler, Steve Lacy, among others, expatriate musician in Europe for many years, coupled to the king of fire-jazz, the mighty Charles Gayle, my favourite musician of the last couple of years – who does not usually work with a pianist, as far as I know. The bass and drummer, in fact, are members of Bobby Few's current quintet lineup, so Gayle would be the odd man out. Scene set for some interesting accommodations...
First set: some high register trinkle tinkle from Few, then they hit the most conventional jazz groove I have heard for a while, drummer Ichiro Onoe keeping it steady, as Gayle pitched into an abrupt, blocky melody. Few's piano started to rise up, a water image appropriate as burly cycling ripples ebbed and flowed, broken by the occasional smashing chord – which seemed to nark Gayle, who visibly winced a couple of times. In fact, the first set was almost a Bobby Few extravaganza – as Gayle seemed to give up trying to find a way in after a while and left the stage area. Bassist Harry Swift, positioned next to Few, followed him gamely and they fell into freer rhythms when Gayle returned – briefly, as he still seemed unhappy and after a smashing, rattling drum solo from Onoe who was as adept at slipping into freer time as he was in more conventional four four, left again, this time not to return as they took it out as a trio. Maybe some of this had been preplanned to give the headliners adequate exposure? Who knows... Few is obviously a major pianist – yet I didn't quite engage with him on the night. Perhaps I am too much of a Gayle partisan and was influenced by what appeared to be his discomfort...
Second set: If they had started off originally back in the tradition, here, they were firmly on contemporary ground. More abstract sonically, Gayle using his breath to lightly brush at the back of the notes, foregrounding their production, as Few used the inside of his piano to good effect, laying some keyboard sonorities to match Gayle's excursions. Bass and drums equally at home in this world of sound texture – but I haven't seen Gayle go so far in this mode before, which was fascinating. They were playing as a band now, it seemed, the sax coming onto the notes more, abrupt phrases being stretched and toyed with as he started to take it onwards in some delirious flows of notes that went from high register – where he has immaculate control – to deep, dark burrowings – again slightly unusual for a man who often plays in the middle and higher registers and frequently doubles on alto. Tonight was all tenor – and a powerful statement, at that. Some of the passages here were amongst the best I have heard him play, heart-wrenching vocalised streams that went way beyond the conception of mere 'notes.' As the set progressed he crouched over his instrument, turning his back to the piano and bass, playing straight at the drummer who held his line smartly. Whether this was to block Few out of his ears – who knows? He left the stage again for the trio to take over, much of it piano backed by bass – Harry Swift, eyes closed with concentration a couple of times as he reached for the notes to support Few. The pianist has expressed his knowledge and love of classical music and his florid rolling rhapsodising displays this, disrupted by suddenly, abruptly lashing a crunching chord/cluster across the flow, like a boulder tossed into a stream. Few used hand signals to bring in the other two in accurate unison for these accents and I enjoyed this trio section more than in the previous set, the music seemed more focused. Gayle returned and they went out on a rocking blues, somewhat surprisingly, although it was fascinating to hear his take on a conventional form, oblique runs that stretched and tugged at the twelve bar structure. But the blues (and spirituals – secular balanced with sacred) are never far from the 'feeling' of his music.
I thought the gig was over so hurried off for a piss before I went in search of the 38 bus back to Travelodgeville and returned to discover Gayle at the piano, doing a solo encore – brilliantly. Fragments of stride piano came through here and there, cross-cut to long rolling runs that almost evoked Art Tatum. Some don't rate him as a pianist – but I like his style and find that I follow his logic well enough – tonight, it was as if something had to be proved. I don't know if there really was needle between the two headliners, but maybe this was some kind of a statement. Another criticism of his keyboard playing is that he doesn't leave a lot of space, which is unfair – you could say the same about Tatum, for example - but I have heard him play very simply and delicately when the material dictated, spirituals and folk material, for example. Tonight it was two-fisted take-no-prisoners time – a tour de force, pretty much, knocking on the door of a couple of standards in passing – 'Willow weep for me' and 'Body and Soul' I caught – which he referred to melodically but freely, not binding himself to the overall chordal structures. Free jazz, I guess they call it, of which there is currently no finer practitioner in my opinion. He was superb...
An odd gig, then – it would have been very interesting if they were booked on for another night, to see how these different approaches played out over another couple of sets. Maybe...
Here's a vid of the Bobby Few Trio from last year...
And one of Charles Gayle, taken at his last Cafe Oto gig in January...
Back from London yesterday and exhausted - but review of Charles Gayle/Bobby Few gig at the Cafe Oto almost written - for a change! An extraordinary night in many ways... I'm off out with the family today to explore the wonderful sunshine etc - but should get it up by tomorrow...
After the excuses of the last post - onwards! Off to town tomorrow to see Charles Gayle, probably my favourite musician of the moment - at the Cafe Oto, of course. The band, with Bobby Few et al, looks fascinating and I'm really looking forward to seeing how he plays with a piano in the lineup
I didn't put up the rest of my review from the Freedom of the City fest... usually I would have attended for a couple of days or more solid - this year just a scattering, due to other commitments. When I read back what I originally intended to post about the 'Feral Choir,' I thought: well, these I do not dig, to the point that I find them hilarious and for all the wrong reasons (maybe...). Some of the other stuff I caught was... o.k. - but I was tired when I got there that last night and left before the end. Exhaustion is not the best state to be in when listening to music, of whatever genre. Reviewing afterwards - well, it would have come out as very negative, when that would not have been my intention. I vigorously support the endeavours of all who are committed to the experimental musics I love, know what a battle it is to get finance and resources only too well - so I figured on this occasion, my critical faculties might not have been too finely tuned. I still find the concept of the 'Feral Choir' (whooo - we're scary) hilarious, and will mention the fact - but I don't want to take the piss in an unbalanced way that would reflect on the work of too many people I respect. Not that anyone or any organisation is above criticism - far from it, many dangers in living in a bubble - but the pluses of this year - new venue which may well turn out to be a good move for the future, the artists I caught who blew me away - and one who surprised me greatly, causing me to rethink old attitudes - and the plain fact that in hard times we need to pull together, made me think: not this time round. Most of what I got to I thoroughly enjoyed and look forward to next year...
For several reasons I was unable to get to a large chunk of the Freedom of the City festival this year, so my overall impressions are somewhat fragmentary, maybe even more so because of the delay in posting them. But I caught some fascinating music, as ever, thought the new venue, the improbable Cecil Sharp House, worked very well, and was pissed off that I missed a couple of acts through arriving late on Sunday. Usually I immerse myself for at least two days, trying to catch as much as I can until exhaustion takes over – but this time round it was more a couple of hits, one quicker than the other.
Finally arriving at CSH – having gone the wrong way off Delancey Street, for some cognitive dissonant reason – got my tickets, realised I had just missed Agusto Fernandez, annoyingly, so went into the bowels of the joint to get a drink at the Cafe Oto-run bar. CSH at first sight has the look of a decaying Edwardian girls school but when I finally surfaced to go into the main venue room it was light and airy, (albeit with a very springy floor - as a dancing aid, apparently, but prone to mucho creaking for the unwary!) the acoustics proved to be good and there was a fair crowd ready to go with Toma Gouband. If you said to someone outside these musics that you had arrived, sat down ready to roll and a guy placed himself in front of an upturned bass drum plus a couple of cymbals/hi hats, and started his performance by breaking a load of rubble onto the drum – well, answers on the back of a beer mat to the Eagles Nest, God's Little Acre. But: this was, for me, the highlight of the sets I managed to catch. Gouband proceeded to use small broken stones to set up dry, clicking rhythms that seemed to move in some kind of ritualistic cycle, bringing them together, using them separately on his drum/cymbal surfaces, his feet playing pedals, one linked to a log/pipe? of some description to produce an insistent ticking. In his own words:
"In solo I use stones collected here and there and I try to play with multispeed, independent voices, numbers and their links arranged circularly. The circle is multi-directional [multisens in the original French - my approximate translation] and, depending on perspective and attractions from inside and outside, becomes line, triangle, square, star, face. Numbers, as symbols of quantities and proportions created by the different speed, are a strong inspiration to play, to find the energy sub-rising, the continuity, the trance. "
He slowly built up a unique sonic area for the duration of his performance, one that made natural sounds seem exotic, minimal in his use of materials/instruments, yet creating much complexity. An interrogation of the acoustic properties of natural elements – stones – that was also a celebration. If you wanted to get really cute, you could surmise that he was channelling older energies, rituals, sacred geometries even, given his remarks above. The next section involved mucho frottaging of stone slabs – on each other, on cymbal and drum head. A fleeting image of corn being ground? The fanciful thoughts abounded – yet this was truly a magical performance, taking the audience to a very unusual and unique space. Back to the two stones for another section and finishing by producing a bundle of tree branches with which he proceeded to whip and brush his kit. I kid you not... But brilliant, the rustling, whispering sonorities conjuring up everything from wind in the trees to jazz brushes on drums. A remarkable bridge built between something very primal and the sophisticated framing of experimental festival space, musics and cultural assumptions situated at this home of UK folk musics and dance. Cecil Sharp House aligned to May Day and free improvisation – if he had suddenly brought out a maypole I would not have been surprised... Something going on here...
Starting quiet, hesitantly almost – Evan P had invited the guests of the afternoon to join his advertised trio (Wright and Francis added to himself) in an impromptu gesture, so, suddenly, an expanded line-up. Two Apple Macs – not sure that another one made much difference. Laptop electronics at these gigs seem, well, restrained, never really partaking of the thrust of performance, more added colorations round the edges. Heledd Francis's bass flute was minimal but blended beautifully with Evan's soprano, the man himself in restrained mood. To unleash the long rolling flights of circular breathed lines in the wrong place would be overwhelming, but he always has his mastery under control in group situations. As their set progressed he did move from short figures to that trademark looping linearity which shifted the dynamic of the performance onto a slightly more urgent plane – but gently suggesting rather than bombastically pointing. John Russell had his head bent sharply forward over his guitar in a pose of utmost concentration and he was using a couple of pedals this year, one I assumed was for volume? Didn't seem to make a lot of difference – unfortunately his playing was semi-audible. Disconcerting to see him picking rapidly away with his left hand holding positions way up the neck, a couple of inches from his right hand. The resultant notes would have been very high-pitched and sharp – but you could hardly hear them. 'Not a strum was heard, nor a funeral note...' to misquote Charles Wolfe. Russell is a true original, someone who took a slightly different course to the once dominant late Derek Bailey – yet every year I go to this festival he is not miked up enough. Maybe his choice? Dunno, but for a me a shame. Again. Apart from my annual quibble - a subtle and intriguing chamber improv performance, very restrained apart from a couple of surges. Such an ensemble like this did well to keep out of each others way while producing dense music, but I think the acoustics would have allowed them more room if they had wanted to rip it up. Rivetting, all the same and much enjoyed.
Grab some Russell solo here to really hear what he is capable off -
Back from London. A couple of excellent exhibitions and some good music at the Freedom of the City festival, which I only bounced across this year, unfortunately, rather than the usual full immersion. A couple of reviews to follow - then into the last lap with our book: 'Don Partridge and Company...' which Pat and I hope to publish very soon... watch this space etc...
