Bebop & Nothingness

Autumn in New York

2012-02-08T06:10:00.000-08:00

I'm organising a walking tour of the NYC jazz scene to take place in the first week of October.

The tour is aimed at people who have not visited NYC before or who have not explored its jazz scene. By the end of the tour participants should have good knowledge of the geography and attractions of the city & a thorough knowledge of the jazz scene past & (most importantly) present. And will have heard some great music.

The 5-day tour will include:

Entry to Louis Armstrong’s house- now a museum- in Astoria, Queens
A visit to Charlie Parker’s house
Entry to the Jazz Museum in Harlem, with a ‘Harlem Speaks’ session if available
A 'ghost walk' covering the sites of (vanished) jazz clubs past - (Café Society, Minton’s, Monroe’s, Apollo Theatre- still there but no longer presenting much jazz- Five Spot, 52^nd Street clubs, Slug’s) and other sites of jazz interest
and present- (not only famous clubs like the Vanguard, Blue Note, Birdland, Jazz Standard) but also Small’s, 55 Bar, Jazz Gallery, Cornelia St Café, Tea Lounge, Bar Next Door, I-Beam, The Stone.)
(At least) one recommended gig per night.
Visits to the best places to buy jazz records and cds in Manhattan, Brooklyn & Princeton
A meeting with a NYC-based musician for a discussion of the reality of the New York scene in the c21
A back-stage visit to a prominent jazz club.
A visit to the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University, Newark, NJ
A visit to WBGO, Newark’s 24 hour jazz radio station.

I've had an encouraging response to the idea and plan to repeat the trip in future years; I've also received information on the avant garde scene and encouragement from Kevin Reilly who works at the Stone and runs the Relative Pitch record label.

Even more information (including the correct address of Monroe's Uptown House, one of the birthplaces of bebop) came from Bill Birch, author of Keeper of the Flame, a history of the modern jazz scene in Manchester. Ken Vail in his book Miles' Diary places it incorrectly, but Bill tracked it down!

My thanks to them both; anyone with queries or suggestions can contact me at alan@jazzhouserecords.co.uk

Bill's book is reviewed here: http://www.pennilesspress.co.uk/northernreview.htm and Relative Pitch here: http://www.relativepitchrecords.com/

Favourite Things 3: Sid Catlett

2011-03-04T08:32:00.000-08:00

A teenager in the 60s whose passion for jazz had expanded from UK trad bands to pretty much the whole jazz spectrum (though I never liked Brubeck or Kenton, and I hadn't yet been exposed to the avant-garde) my exploration of the music was rather hampered by my lack of disposable income.

I was happy to listen to the revivalists live, especially when I won a year's free entrance to the club at the Bell Inn on Oxford Road in Reading for knowing Bix's first names. Ken Colyer nights at the Bell I were pretty wonderful, especially the last number when Ken started waving around his metal derby hat mute.

And I listened to the radio of course, twiddling the dial to pick up Willis Conover on the Voice of America. But record buying was a problem. If I'd possessed a middle class acceptance of deferred gratification I guess I could have devised a wish list of essential recordings and saved my money until I could afford them; what in fact happened was that I scurried off to the local record shop as soon as I had the necessary to buy something- often a bargain issue or compilation.

One such, on RCA's Camden label, was Great Jazz Reeds (still available from your on-line record dealer!) It's a knock-out collection, if rather eclectic. Bechet, Pee Wee, Dodds, Mezz- great Ladnier so we'll forgive the hyperbole- Chu, Bud Freeman, Bird...and as the last track, Cadillac Slim by the Chocolate Dandies, with Ben Webster and Benny Carter. Of the ten tracks, that's the one that really excited me at the time, and still does.

Customers often ask me if I'm a collector myself; I always deny it, despite having a sizeable personal music accumulation- I'm simply too disorganised to deserve the accolade. If I had been a collector, I would no doubt have searched for the other sides from this session. As it is, I waited for them to fall serendipitously into my metaphorical lap, in the form of a Swing (France) reissue of tracks by Hawkins both with Michel Warlop and with his All Star Swing Band (Carter & Django), and Carter with an international band (Bertie King, Alix Combelle, Django). Plus, to fill up the 2nd side, the four Chocolate Dandies tracks recorded in NYC for the Swing label.

It would be nice to be able to report that all 4 tracks were masterpieces; nice but untrue. Sweet Georgia Brown has a bright chorus by Buck Clayton and a full-toned one from Carter. Sonny White plays well - Teddy Wilson out of Earl Hines- and Ben Webster growls 2 choruses before a jammed finish. Out of my Way is by Sid Catlett, sung by the composer. He puts down his sticks to take his vocal chorus, and is missed. He has a musical tenor voice, but there's only room for a split chorus between Ben, Al Grey and the final ensemble.

What'll It Be is a riff-based Carter original, with Benny taking the first bridge. Buck and Sonny White split a chorus with riffs behind, before Carter sails in serenely on alto to claim his composer's privilege of a full chorus.

What makes Cadillac Slim special?- it is after all just another Rhythm changes riff tune- by Ben Webster.

Big Sid must take much of the credit; not only does he kick off the side with a brilliant 8 bar intro, but throughout the 3 minutes his fills are beautifully timed to push the soloists and create excitement. Another reason is the way the track's divided between the soloists: after the drum intro there's 24 bars of ensemble, with Ben taking the bridge. He plays a full chorus, the tempo's fast but he resists the temptation to growl. Then he and Carter trade 4s, followed by a Carter chorus. Sonny White gets 24 bars with Al Grey taking the bridge, and Sid kicks Buck into his 24 bar solo- he begins by almost playing the first half of the Salt Peanuts riff. 8 bars of ensemble and out. I judge it to be a completely unpretentious but perfect track. Everybody's at the top of their game, and Catlett is astonishingly good. Thank you RCA Camden.

One question remains; why did a group as musically sophisticated as this one call themselves 'The Chocolate Dandies'? You can read the origin of the name here; what I can't understand is why Carter was still using it in the '40s. Brian Rust (RIP) in his sleeve notes to the Parlophone lp by various '28-'33 groups under this name suggests daringly that it has a 'slightly patronising, certainly period flavour about it' and suggests that those were 'less touchy times'.

Tony Levin

2011-02-17T04:02:00.000-08:00

The great bop-to-free drummer Tony Levin died on February 3rd.

A few memories:

A gig he played with a remarkable pick-up band at our club in the early 80s- Ian Carr on trumpet, my friend and jazz educator Conrad Cork on alto, music teacher Ron Reah on piano, free-jazz pioneer and now composer Gavin Bryars on bass and Tony. It shouldn't have worked, and in truth there are some rough patches, but I'm glad it was recorded and still play the cd with pleasure. *

A performance in Birmingham at Tony's club with Evan Parker and a tuba player (Melvin Poore) where Tony and Evan got into what Evan described as 'that Coltrane and Elvin at the Vanguard' thing. We ate afterwards at a Balti place which had a hypnotist and magician who worked the tables, dropping customers to the floor and making money disappear under our nose. Maybe I dreamt the whole thing.

When Evan was teaching at de Montfort University he played a series of duo gigs in the tiny cafe underneath my bookshop - you remember bookshops? There was a disco in the cellar next door and the noise pollution started around 10pm. No problem the night Tony played.

Tony did a short tour last year to celebrate his 70th birthday and one date was in Leicester; first he played with Aki Takase and John Edwards, then with Mujician- Keith Tippett, Paul Dunmall, Paul Rogers. I can't fault John Fordham's Guardian review.

And what must have been one of his last gigs- with Peter King's quartet- Steve Melling, Geoff Gascoyne at the Y in Leicester on January 19 this year. It was clear Peter was pacing himself- each set had a piano feature and he sat at the back of the stage when not playing- but Steve Melling was on steaming form and the music was driven and forceful; no sign that Tony was struggling to keep up though he looked a bit frail at the end of the gig.

So the news of his death was a shock; we'll miss him.

* Conrad Cork adds:

This gig almost didn’t happen. A few weeks before it was due, the regular drummer’s wife left him, and he took himself off to be consoled by friends in Bangkok. Fortunately Tony Levin stepped in. Then the day before the gig, it turned out that the promised grand piano was not forthcoming, so there was a scramble to find anything, and anything turned out to be a low quality Wurlitzer electric job.

Bryars barely made it to the gig (minutes to spare) because he came in from Paris where he was in the course of overseeing the run of his opera Medea, produced by Robert Wilson. Bryars and Rhea, incidentally, comprised the entire fulltime staff of the (classical) music department at the then Leicester Polytechnic.

There was no time for rehearsal or prior discussion, and Ian called the tunes and keys as the evening went on.

Back to Llareggub

2010-10-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

I wrote in 2008 of my admiration for Stan Tracey and Bobby Wellins, and expressed the hope that I might one day hear them play live the music from Stan's Under Milk Wood suite.

That day came last Wednesday at the Y in Leicester, and I'm proud of my small part in making the gig happen.

I was emailed by one of the organisers of a short Leicester literary festival asking if I knew a band who could play the UMW music to accompany a reading of Thomas's radio play. I jokingly replied that he could always ask Stan & Bobby and quoted a fee (too low as it happened!) which I was sure would be beyond their budget. To my surprise and delight he contacted Sylvia Rae Tracey (who handles Stan's bookings) and booked the quartet (Andrew Cleyndert & Clark Tracey) paying 25% more than the sum I'd conjectured.

It was worth every penny. Having recently heard Stan, Bobby and Guy Barker at the Scarborough festival playing Stan's usual live repertoire of standards, show tunes and blues I knew how committed and driving the band could be at its best, but I suspected that a performance of the UMW music would be special; in the event the two readers had little to do and most of the evening was devoted to music, so inevitably most of the pieces were extended past their recorded length. The performances that night won't displace my recall of the 1965 recording; the purity of Wellins' tone now has a burred edge and Andrew Cleyndert's bass-playing- fine though it is- lacks the late Jeff Clyne's exquisite note choices; listen to his first phrase after the piano introduction to Starless and Bible Black, just before Wellins jumps in to play the melody- at the Y Andrew made an ostinato of his first figure and Bobby paused a couple of beats before entering.

But it was a delight to hear those compositions played so well. As an aside I read a report that audiences during Stan's recent American tour were surprised to hear him playing show tunes, assuming he'd play his own compositions. The writer wondered: did he play them to ingratiate himself with a US audience? - not realising that he's always much more likely to play Body & Soul than Pluck's Gutter. (Francis Davis, in the book from which I stole the title of this blog tells of Muhal Richard Abrams' reluctance to play any of his compositions more than once- he'd rather move on to something new.) In Stan's case something old made new, and I'm not complaining.

I recently heard that Stan's started composing again; I know the details of the new project but I'll keep them under my hat- I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.

Back to the Erdre

2010-09-22T10:45:00.000-07:00

I've written about the Nantes Jazz Festival before (in 2007); I'm returning to the subject because it still does not have the recognition it deserves.

2010 was the 24th year of a festival which has expanded to include 8 main 'scenes' in the city along the banks of the river Erdre, plus other 'scenes off' including concerts in hospitals and a prison. Add to that gigs in neighbouring villages, a record fair and a round table on promoting jazz. And a regatta of sailing boats, old and new. There are food stalls from the francophone culinary world- the big hit this year was the fouée, a Breton variation on pita with sweet or savoury filling, some excellent bieres artisanales and Muscadet, and all the concerts (80+) were free of charge.

The organisers' aim is to present 'tous le jazz' - including music this old jazz snob finds hard to recognise as jazz at all- but that's ok, there's always something of interest going on, and at least the 'did I really pay good money to listen to this?' feeling is absent!

The Scene Nautique is the largest, holding 10000 people and always filled to overflowing; it's a large platform in the middle of the river- the audience sits on the bank facing the band, with the overflow on the other side. It's for big stars - disappointing like Charles Lloyd's Coltrane-lite 2008 performance and last year's phoned-in Ron Carter gig, exciting like the Henri Texier Strada Sextet with Roswell Rudd, and engaging like the Louis Sclavis Trio. This year's stars included the Roy Hargrove Quintet- I wasn't sure I'd come to the festival this year until I saw they were appearing, but I loved their cd 'Ear Food' and I was knocked out 2 years ago to hear the Hargrove Big Band corseted into the tiny Jazz Gallery in NYC. In the event they were great to hear, though all the time you longed to be there with them in the confines of a club. Saturday night was Django night, with Daniel Givone, Romane, Angelo Debarre & Christophe Lartilleux, but by the time we got to the 'scene' it was overflowing, so we had an early night.

We did arrive in time on Sunday to hear Le Gros Cube- a band comprising some of the big names of the regional scene playing the music of Queen (honestly!). No less than 3 singers attempted to invoke the spirit of Mr Mercury, and they and the band were obviously amusing themselves enormously. Much of the huge crowd seemed to be having fun also, but after 2 numbers ( no solos) we made our excuses and left. Not so much 'tous les jazz' as 'pas de tout le jazz'.

The heart of the festival is the Scene Sully, a sloping area holding up to 3000 people, around 1000 seated on chairs whose devilishly uncomfortable seats are still imprinted on my cul. It's worth it though for the quality of the music, from the quiet classicism of trombonist Yves Robert to the Mingus-like Andy Emler MegaOctet. China Moses channeled the spirit of Dinah Washington, Sophie Alour (ex-Rhoda Scott tenorist) played a brave set with just bass and drums which was perhaps a little under-powered, though my colleague had to be restrained from storming the stage when she announced one number as 'When Ah Meuve Ma Beudy.' Well, he's a fan, and he likes her saxophone playing too.

The best music at Sully was the quartet of Helene Labarriere, a virtuoso bassist whose quartet played an uncompromising set of enormous power. The worst was a silly set by the Trio D'En Bas, whose leader played approximate tenor and sang Zappa songs badly, although he apparently didn't realise it.

There's also an Electro-Jazz scene- but my ears can no longer stand p a turned up to eleven so I missed Bristol's Get the Blessing.

To conclude, it was a mixture as always- I'll certainly be back next year when I'm sure there will be something special for the quarter century. See you there.

I'd hoped to meet up with the formidable Gérard Terrones at the festival- he runs the wonderful Futura-Marge record labels- but we missed each other. We caught up in Paris and I stocked up on his recent cds, then went to hear the Franck Avitabile Trio at Sunset- as a jazz club promoter it was encouraging to see a club completely full for the gig, though as an audience-member I would have preferred not to sit with my arms pinned to my side while breathing into Franck's collar. He's been compared to Michel Petrucciani and Martial Solal; although he lacks Petrucciani's steely touch and Solal's free-flowing melodic imagination. But he has a lyrical power of his own, and Henri Texier and Aldo Romano were predictably superb.

An Englishman in New York- a cautionary tale

2010-07-04T12:43:00.000-07:00

I prefer not to stay in hotels when visiting foreign cities.

Hotels, at least the ones I can afford, are mostly under-lit, overheated, cramped and impersonal. No doubt I could pay more and stay in better-lit, well ventilated and spacious places, but I prefer to spend my cash in other ways- jazz clubs, concerts, books, restaurant meals – and used to be happy to treat my hotel room as a box with a bed, nothing more. But I’ve realised that, with the help of the internet, it’s not hard to find alternatives.

So in recent years I’ve stayed in apartments in Budapest, Krakow, Paris and Barcelona- all humble places but offering more space, facilities and privacy than any hotel room, and at comparable cost.

A few years ago a friend introduced me to Craig’s List, an online classified ads service covering the major US cities and including vacation rentals. So for my last trip to New York I found a room in an apartment house on E 3^rd St owned by a religious organisation that did good works around the city; a modest room modestly priced, and including a ‘make-your-own’ breakfast in a communal kitchen-cum-sitting room. The rooms were decorated ecumenically with pictures of Jesus, Buddha and Hindu deities, but the owners did not proselytise and the religious music they played in the breakfast room in the mornings was quite soothing.

And it was in an interesting neighbourhood- the East Village- made more interesting by the presence of the New York Chapter of the Hell’s Angels next door. ‘Please do not sit on our neighbors’ bench’ read the sign in out hallway. As if we’d dare.

The previous year I’d found- also through Craig’s List- a 2-bedroom apartment on Suffolk St (just south of E Houston on the Lower East Side) for myself, my daughter and her man. It was owned by an artist and was decorated with his paintings and his thoughts on art, life & commerce- on the walls and ceiling. We never got to meet Zito- he moved into his friend’s place whenever he had tenants & was by his own admission ‘not a morning person’- but we communicated adequately by message and text. The apartment was certainly a more individual experience than any anonymous midtown hotel. Just down the street once stood the anarchist café where Emma Goldman first met Alex Berkmann. And just round the corner is Yonah Schimmel’s Knishes.

During my first trips to NYC I never ventured out of Manhattan- there was just too much to experience on that small island to think of visiting the other boroughs. More recently I’ve been exploring Brooklyn, so decided to find some accommodation in Williamsburg (a hip Brooklyn neighbourhood) for my next trip- planned for the first week in July.

A room in the apartment of a young couple in the fashion business, 2 subway stops from Manhattan, seemed ideal. My own entrance, use of the kitchen and bathroom, and a great coffee shop down the road. No deposit required.

A week before my flight they emailed me to say they had been offered work in LA and sorry, the room was no longer available. Time to consult Craig’s List again, quickly.

This is where this post changes direction – no longer in praise of NYC apartment living, more caveat emptor.

The standout offer was for a studio apartment at 105 E 9^th St- advertised with photographs- and yes, it was available for my dates. Please sign this 3 page agreement. Please send a 50% deposit by Western Union only, and to the owner’s daughter in Virginia. Alarm bells should have rung, but I was anxious to secure the

apartment, and sent the money. I was emailed that the money had been received, and the booking was confirmed. I wrote to ask how I would recognise the apartment when I arrived at the building; no reply. I looked on Street View and saw there indeed was an apartment building at 105, with a keypad at the entrance, so wrote to ask what numbers I should enter; no reply. Still my flight was booked, and surely everything would be clear when I arrived.

Clear it certainly was; none of the tenants in the building know anything of my apartment- owner, and there were no studio apartments in the building. It had been a con, elaborate, professional. I booked a couple of nights in a nearby hotel to give myself some time to think, but by the end of the first night I’d decided to come home as quickly as possible- the shine had been rubbed off the holiday with a vengeance.

The airline took pity on me and only surcharged me $105.

How was I conned so easily? Leaving aside the saying containing the words ‘no’, ‘fool’ and ‘old’ and the fact that I needed to book somewhere in a hurry, I’ve concluded that the honesty of the jazz community is to blame. (Poor joke, I know.)

Each year hundreds of customers send me cash in advance, trusting that I’ll be honest and send them the goods they’ve ordered. Each year I send out hundreds of packets with invoices, trusting my customers will pay up. No-one has ever been let down. An expectation of honest dealing develops; I’m not ashamed of my naivety, but furious at this breach of trust.

Some advice and practical matters: never send money by Western Union to someone you don’t know- they have none of the anti-fraud procedures of Paypal. And please don’t book an apartment (in NYC or elsewhere) from sherri.gordon@gmail.com (who may well not exist) aka Unique-Suite Vacation Rental or from Wendy Accurso, 12 Aunt Lilly Lane, Annandale VA 22003 (who presumably does exist, because you have to take valid ID to the Western Union office to collect cash.)

I intend to pursue these crooks as far as I can, with Craig’s List, Google, Western Union and the Annandale VA police department. I’ll let you know how I get on.

Since making the original post I've learned that this is a large, well-organised scam covering several US cities and involving several individuals- or more likely one individual using several names and email addresses. I'm clearly not the only person who's been conned- not that I feel any better for that.

I've alerted Craigs List- no reply to date.

Keith Jarrett- celebrity

2009-07-29T01:48:00.000-07:00

At the Royal Festival Hall in London last Saturday we were warned several times, by posters fixed to the doors, by a disembodied voice over the pa & most genially by John Cumming of Serious during his announcement that we were to turn off our mobiles and refrain from taking photos- fair enough. Similar warnings occur at most concerts, but the slightly pleading tone here carried the subtext: we don't want to upset Keith. At a London concert last year some miscreant had approached the stage to take a snap; his punishment was to be condemned by Jarrett to banishment before the gig could resume.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable concert by a brilliant trio, referred to throughout as 'The Standards Trio', though there was no doubt the pianist was firmly in charge, playing a nicely varied set of standards both familiar and (to me at least) obscure; in particular Jack De Johnette's playing was superb, beautifully shaded and appropriate to the mood of each piece - when Jarrett fell into one of his lengthy vamps De Johnette's drumming ensured tedium never resulted. And when Jarrett left some space Gary Peacock's scampering fills were beautiful.

Jarrett's playing showed his many virtues- a beautifully varied touch that moved from delicacy to barnstorming, a vivid melodic imagination, a formidable technique and a good sense of swing.

My reservations are about the organisation of the concert rather than its content; the first set was 3 pieces in 35 minutes- Jarrett seemed keen to get through the set list and depart, cutting short two of Gary Peacock's solos, the second a few minutes more. After a lengthy standing ovation the trio played the first of 4 encores; the pattern was this: the trio leaves the stage to standing ovation, returns, bows, leaves again. Applause continues, trio returns, plays encore, ovation, leaves, returns, leaves, plays. The encores were nicely chosen, each shorter and quieter than its predecessor. But I became increasingly dissatisfied with the game Jarrett was asking us to play: you want more, but I'll only give it to you if you prove how much you love me. I demand your adulation.

It made me respect him less, and I kept recalling a solo piano gig by Martial Solal I'd heard at Kings Place in London a few weeks before. The octagenarian had played a piano repertoire much more hackneyed than Jarrett's- I Got Rhythm, Caravan, Satin Doll- a piano bar tinkler's set in fact- transforming them with his unequalled combination of technique (more than a match for Jarrett's) and taste into something very special. His playing was both spontaneous and completely assured- a little phrase from Bebop appeared in one song, reappeared and was developed in the next. Towards the end of the second set he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and studied a list of tunes. And when he returned for the first encore joked: I've found a new list.

I would have gladly stayed longer, and regretted the passing of the after-hours club. Solal: a rich couscous, Jarrett: sushi.

Bill McHenry in Brooklyn

2009-06-07T06:53:00.000-07:00

This post was planned as a diary of a week of jazz in NYC in May; returning to it in September I've decided to delete the majority and concentrate on the most interesting gig of the week. The diary can wait until next time.

Thursday 21: One my my earliest posts mentioned my liking for the music of saxophonist Bill McHenry; since hearing him with pianist Ethan Iverson at Jazz Standard on one of my 1st visits to NYC I've tried to catch him whenever I'm in the city (& helped organise a short UK tour for him a few years ago). I emailed him before flying & found that his quartet- with Duane Eubanks on trumpet- had a gig at the Tea Lounge in Park Slope, Brooklyn (not listed in any of the jazz press.) It was the most interesting and challenging music I heard all week.

They played all new material- Bill told me he'd been working on it for weeks, but I think it was the first time Duane and the the rest of the band has seen the music; it was I guess a rehearsal for his week's gig at the Vanguard. Despite his somewhat approximate readings of some of the heads- not surprising given the serpentine nature of some of Bill's melodies- Duane Eubanks played confidently in a Cherry-like style that suited the music perfectly.

His music is sometimes bleak and unsettling; the intensity of his improvising is remarkable, long-held notes alternating with rapid runs played with a tone that's hard with a crumbly edge, and with rare but effective growls and cries; sometimes he held the tenor straight out in front of him like Rollins, sometimes tucked it into his side like Gonsalves. He addressed the microphone like a matador approaches a bull, leaning forward to attack, then crouched almost to his knees, then moved the mike around on the the stage area as if finding the perfect spot. And all this with no sense of contrivance. Is the music inside or outside?- hard to say on a first hearing- like Ornette he uses written heads that set the mood of the improvisations that follow; when he gets round to recording this new material it will be clearer, but perhaps not relevant- in an interview last year he told Jazz Times“The stuff around me might be a lot different but the way I deal with melody and harmony is not going to be that different, whether it’s on a structure or not on a structure. It’s based around what kind of notes and what kind of ideas I think sound good. And the clearer conception you have of that, then the less effect a structure will have on you.”

An exciting, exhilarating, thought-provoking evening.

The Jazz Museum in Harlem

2009-05-07T03:54:00.000-07:00

You don't need to be a Futurist to find uncomfortable the idea of a jazz museum. Despite the attempts to redefine the role of the institution- a quick Google search brought me: Reinventing the Museum, Historical and Contemporary Perspectives on the Paradigm Shift by Gail Anderson & Making Museums Matter by Weil Se- I don't feel inclined to consign West End Blues or Ghosts to what Marinetti called 'museums, graveyards' Jazz is too alive, too lively (pace Frank Zappa & Edward Vesala), too unofficial. Anyway, haven't Wynton Marsalis and Jazz at Lincoln Centre got that covered already?

Despite such reservations, let's praise the Jazz Museum in Harlem both for its attitude & its location; although the museum does not yet exist, for now there's a visitors' centre on 126th St - just a couple of rooms with a small library, a cd collection and a small gallery of photographs. If it were just a building, it would be worthy but unimpressive, but it's far more than that. The museum- see http://www.jazzmuseuminharlem.org declares itself concerned as much with future of jazz as with its past and its range of activities supports the assertion.

Their Harlem in the Himalayas sessions bring 1st class concerts to the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art on W17th St ( your ticket gets you admission to the exhibitions too). The acoustics are so good in the subterranean theatre that all the gigs are presented without pa. I've heard the Marcus Strickland quartet and the Charles Davis quartet there, and recent gigs have included the great Henry Grimes in a duo with Marc Ribot, and Billy Bang with William Parker.

Jazz for Curious Readers has talks by and interviews with jazz writers as diverse as Ira Gitler, George Lewis, Nat Hentoff, Garry Giddins and Stanley Crouch, while Jazz for Curious Listeners is currently examining classic albums- Speak No Evil as well as Armstrong Plays WC Handy, with Common's Like Water for Chocolate later this month.

And Harlem Speaks presents conversations with musicians- I was lucky enough to be there for the discussion between Cedar Walton and drummer Kenny Washington, whose knowledge of the postwar jazz scene was comprehensive enough for him to be able to prompt Cedar over details he'd forgotten. There were some very funny Art Blakey anecdotes- asked about Blakey's bandleading style he replied: Military- and fond memories of Kenny Dorham, who gave Cedar the nickname 'Steep'- short for 'Steeplehead' because of his high forehead. The audience - mostly Harlemites I'd guess- contributed also; a discussion of how David Newman got his nickname was interrupted authoritatively by: Because he had a big fat ego, that's why- from a woman behind me.

There's more- free concerts in the parks, Saturday panel discussions, an education programme for young people- and most of the museum's activities are free of charge & well-supported. And where better than Harlem as a location?- the site of so much jazz history in the city that still presents more jazz nightly than any other. (My next post will describe a week in NYC last month.)

There's not so much live jazz in Harlem now- the Lenox Lounge, the reopened Minton's, Bill Saxton's Place- but this could change if the jazz museum does move into a building on Harlem's main drag- 125th St- as reported here.

Incidentally, while leafing through a 1972 issue of Down Beat (while updating my website- who says men can't multitask?) I noticed a news piece about a New York Jazz Museum about to open in midtown- does anyone know what happened to that project? There's nothing in the Down Beat online archive. In any case, the Jazz Museum in Harlem appears too well organised, too well-grounded to repeat its fate. If they get the funding...

Liam Noble

2009-04-08T07:49:00.000-07:00

Our jazz club in Leicester uses a second, more formal 'recital room' venue mostly for solo piano gigs- there's an excellent Bosendorfer grand. We've been working our way through our favourite UK pianists- Steve Melling, Dave Newton, Mark Edwards, John Donaldson, Gwilym Simcock, Zoe Rahman, Alcyona Mick, Kate Williams, Tom Cawley, Jonathon Gee, Jason Rebello, Tim Richards. When arranging the gigs we often find that it's the first time they've been asked to play 2 full sets of solo piano- something of a challenge. It's been a successful series, musically and in terms of audience numbers.

The most recent gig featured Liam Noble, who we first came across in the Bobby Wellins Quartet that recorded 'The Best is Yet to Come' on Jazzizit - there's also a quite abstract cd of solo piano on FMR called 'Close Your Eyes.' It's this mix of lyricism and abstraction, together with his intriguing chordal voicings that makes Liam's playing so interesting. (An audience member asked if he consciously worked out the voicings- his reply was that he thought of them as parallel lines of melody). He played some Monk, some Ellington, some Brubeck and ' When you wish upon a star' which he must have learned from/ for Bobby Wellins (Wellins played it at a Jazz House gig a few weeks ago with Kate Williams- the most affecting live ballad performance since I heard Art Pepper play 'Over the Rainbow').

But I digress: the reason for the Brubeck songs was that Liam's just released a trio cd - just called 'Brubeck' that received a 5-star review from John Fordham in the 'Guardian' - one British band leader told me 'you have to be dead to get four stars from Fordham' - so that's quite an achievement. You can hear complete tracks at http://www.myspace.com/liamnobletriobrubeck. The cd has persuaded me that Brubeck wrote other interesting tunes than 'In your own sweet way' and 'The Duke'. Hasn't changed my mind about Brubeck's piano playing though.

A propos of nothing in particular....some years ago the big Leicester concert hall- De Montfort Hall- had a change of management and for a short while promoted some big jazz names, including the Dave Brubeck Quartet. Someone in the education dept thought it was a good idea to have short introductory talks before the concerts, and offered me the gig (and £30 + 2 free tickets). My plan was to present what I thought was a balanced assessment of Brubeck's strengths and weaknesses, mention the disgrace that he was the first jazz musician to get his face on the cover of 'Time', play a few quartet tracks, plus Desmond with Jim Hall, Morello with Phil Woods, Miles playing the 2 songs mentioned above.

A few minutes into the talk- no-one had walked out when I repeated the 'He swings like a centurion tank' comment- I heard some american voices on the other side of the partition, laughing, eating & drinking- and I realised that it was the band... Although I had no idea if they could hear what I was saying I must confess that I spontaneously revised the talk a little, adding a little coda praising Brubeck's continuing commitment to improvisation and omitting the comment that I always fast-forward through his solos.

I'd given away the comps, so didn't get to the gig.

Jabbo & Lorraine

2008-07-12T14:34:00.000-07:00

Every jazz fan should go the Village Vanguard at least once in their life; the little jazz club on 7th Ave South in Greenwich Village has occupied the same triangular cellar for 73 years, and its walls have absorbed some of the greatest jazz ever recorded. And, we must assume, unrecorded.
You see the famous awning first, and you can be forgiven for having your photo taken under it, in the place once occupied by John Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane, Jimmy Garrison & Rashied Ali for the cover of Live at the Village Vanguard Again. You descend the narrow stairs, turn left at the bottom- hand over your cover & minimum, collect your drinks ticket and find a seat among the locals, out-of-towners and tourists from Europe & Japan who make up a typical Village Vanguard audience. On the wall are photos of some of the great jazz musicians who have played here. There's also a sousaphone attached to one wall- I've never found out why, nor located the famous 'Mingus light'. (Read the book for the story.)

It's likely that on your way to be seated you'll pass an elderly woman sitting at her special table to the left of the entrance; you will probably pay no attention to her but you should; she's Lorraine Gordon, owner of the Vanguard since Max Gordon died in 1989; her book Alive at the Village Vanguard is a racy account of her life- her first husband was Alfred Lion, co-founder of Blue Note Records, and Max, founder of the Vanguard, was her second. (I read his book-Live at the Vanguard) years ago, but it meant less to me because then I only knew the club from record covers. I must find a copy.) Lorraine Gordon's book is a chatty 'as told to' autobiography & a fascinating read, though I would have appreciated more jazz gossip. It is interesting to learn that it was she in her role as publicist for Blue Note who persuaded Max to hire Monk for some gigs at the Vanguard- they were a financial disaster- but I would have like much more of the same. Still she comes across as a formidable independent woman, vehemently opposing the Vietnam war and travelling to Hanoi as part of a Women Strike for Peace delegation. While her husband was alive Lorraine had little to do with the running of the club- you get the impression that he did not not consider it woman's work- but realised when he died that she had to keep it going. She scolds his ghost at the very end of the book-'Don't call me girl Max, I'm a woman.' We owe her a debt of gratitude; it's a perfect setting to hear jazz (apart from the rumble of the 7th Ave subway). The acoustics are great, the piano's fine, the audience are encouraged to listen, not chat. The atmosphere is relaxed, the air a little musty- Lorraine denies vehemently that the place is dirty, and takes to task the 'New York jazz writer' who claimed otherwise. It was Francis Davis, who suggested 'time to change the kitty litter, Max.' As if we care.

In 1980 she met again the trumpeter Jabbo Smith, who she had first heard as a kid in 1938 at the Alcazar Club in New Jersey; he was playing at the Village Gate in a show called One Mo' Time. She later became his sponsor and manager. Which sent me back to my record shelves to dig out some of Jabbo's recordings from the 20s.

It used to be thought there were two Jabbo Smiths- the trumpeter who played on the OKeh 1927 Black & Tan Fantasy with Ellington surely could not be the same same man whose little Rhythm Aces band was promoted (unsuccessfully) in an attempt to cash in on the popularity of the Armstrong Hot 5s. The confusion is understandable- the solo on the Ellington side is muted (of course) and rather delicate; the Rhythm Aces recordings show his flashing mercurial side, fast, legato, virtuoso trumpet that seems to contains a pre-echo of Roy Eldridge (who admitted that Jabbo cut him on at least one occasion.) Listen to his opening cadenza on Jazz Battle- beautifully fluid playing. His slow playing lacked the nobility of Armstrong and the reckless melodic ingenuity of Henry Allen, but the 19 Rhythm Aces sides from 1929 are wonderful, exciting, risk-taking music that deserves to be better-known. The records sold badly, and Brunswick quickly dropped Jabbo. He'd retired from music completely by the end of the '30s, but after his success in One Mo' Time he toured and played festivals until a few years before his death in 1991, encouraged and assisted by his new manager.

So that's 2 reasons to be grateful to Lorraine Gordon.

Stan Tracey & Bobby Wellins, national treasures

2008-05-15T16:04:00.000-07:00

Last month Stan Tracey's quartet with Bobby Wellins, Andrew Cleyndert & Clark Tracey played a Leicester Jazz House gig at the YTheatre. It was the usual mix: some Monk tunes- Bright Mississippi, In Walked Bud, the inevitable Blue Monk as an encore, some Ellingtonia, some standards- including I Want to be Happy(!) -and a single original whose name I missed (& the only time a piece of manuscript paper was seen on the bandstand.) The many compositions which form the bulk of Tracey's recorded output seldom get an outing at gigs. (Stan expresses incomprehension at the continuing popularity of the Under Milk Wood music, but I'd pay a bonus to hear a reworking of 'Starless & Bible Black'.)

Spike Wells (Wellins' drummer) wrote in 1978 : 'first and unforgettably there is the unique sound, pinched and fragile with an occasional slow vibrato which conveys a remarkable range of feeling from pathos to meanness, to mockery. Then there is the oblique approach to harmony: a strange choice of route through one progression, a seemingly naive negotiation of the next, sending the horn snaking around the changes on starkly original lines with a sardonic interspersing of earthy blues licks. Thirdly, one is struck by the total rhythmic facility, leading to outrageously witty displaced accents and the transplantation of whole phrases across the bar line.' I can't better that.

And Tracey's rich chording, sudden darting percussive runs, dramatic tremolos, bottom-end rumblings and Monkish stabs combine in a unique piano style- synthesising elements of Monk & Ellington to be sure- but unmistakably 100% Tracey.

Hear them live if you can; failing that add the 1965 Under Milk Wood recording to your collection, plus the more recent Tracey & Wellins Play Monk, and, if you can find it, the New Departures album, where Wellins' Culloden Moor conjures a bleak landscape as beautifully as Jimmy Knepper on Gil Evans' Where Flamingos Fly (on Out of the Cool.)

The combination of Tracey & Wellins is a classic, but my favourite single Tracey album remains Captain Adventure, with Art Themen, Dave Green and Bryan Spring, recorded live at the 100 Club in London, 10 years after Under Milk Wood. Themen is a more restless ballad player than Wellins, and the band is driven hard by the magnificent Bryan Spring- listen to the moment on Cee Meenah, after Tracey's barrelhouse introduction and Themen's soprano entry when Spring unleashes a clattering fill that raises the hairs on my arms and propels Themen into some of his most abstract playing. The 45 minutes of the lp issue pass too quickly, leaving you wanting more- and now there is more, because Tentoten Records has released The Return of Captain Adventure, a 2 cd set comprising the original album and the rest of that November night's gig. And miraculously, it's all killer, no filler.

The photos are by Chris Maughan, used with permission

Joe Boyd & Coleman Hawkins

2008-04-08T07:50:00.000-07:00

I recently read Joe Boyd's autobiographical 'White Bicycles- Making Music in the 1960s' (Serpents Tail). Boyd's best known for his involvement with Nick Drake, the folk-rock scene and for founding Hannibal Records, but he has some interesting and amusing things to say about the sixties jazz world. I thoroughly recommend it.

As ayoung man he worked for George Wein at the Newport Jazz Festival- his anecdote about Wein's encounter with Elvin Jones is worth the price of the book alone- & later in London arranged recording sessions for Chris McGregor, Dudu Pukwana and the other exiles from South Africa. But it's his involvement with Coleman Hawkins that sparked most memories for me.

Part of his work for Wein was acting as tour manager for among others the Coleman Hawkins Quintet, with Harry Edison, Sir Charles Thompson, Jimmy Woode & Jo Jones. Boyd has some great stories which I won't repeat because I want you to buy the book, but he doesn't mention that during the tour the band recorded 2 BBC Jazz 625 programmes in London. (The tour only gets a passing mention in John Chilton's Hawkins biography.)

In 1964 I used to buy the Melody Maker on the way to school; it was still just about worth the cover price to a jazz-lover. One day I read a short piece announcing that the BBC recording would be taking place the next day at Wembley Town Hall. We arrived ticketless after hitch-hiking from Reading but there was no trouble getting in- the hall was only half full.

Hawkins played magisterially that night; I learned from Boyd that his cognac consumption was already impressive, but he had yet to slide into his terminal decline. And I was really taken with Jo Jones' feature on Caravan- his sticks moved with such grace & his smile was so wide.

The programmes recorded that night were for a while available on VHS; I'd love a DVD copy if only to find out if the music was as good as I remember it. There's not even any of it on Youtube. As a reminder of how well the old man could play in the final years of his career I looked out some albums from that decade.

In 1960 Hawkins recorded a session for the Crown label with a boppish band: Thad Jones, Eddie Costa, George Duvivier, Osie Johnson. As Scott Yanow mentions in his AllMusic review, the themes- all credited to Hawkins on my lps, though Yanow suspects Jones & Costa may have written most- have familiar-sounding changes but resist attribution (aside from 'Shadows,' which resembles 'Under a Blanket of Blue', which Hawkins had played on a Keynote session in 1947 with Buck Clayton & Teddy Wilson, and recorded again in 1961 on The Hawk Relaxes.) Yanow describes the session as 'slightly short of essential' but it's been a favourite of mine since I bought the 2 lps on Eros (yes, another cheap label) in the '60s- one called 'Coleman Hawkins & His Orchestra', the other 'The Hawk Swings'- the two have recently been reissued on one cd as 'Moodsville' by the Barcelona-based Fresh Sound label.

Though his music was as harmonically complex as any bopper's, rhythmically Hawkins belonged to an earlier era; it's the power & urgency of his playing that makes him sound entirely at home in this context (as he did on his session with Monk & Coltrane, and the duet album with Rollins.) The whole band plays well; Thad Jones warm-toned and mercurial, Costa especially pleasing when he rumbles around in the lower register- his promising career was cut short by a car accident 2 years later. I especially like the long 'Stalking', where Costa's spare comping (on vibes and piano) helps to highlight the warm rock-solid walking bass of Duvivier and the relaxed swing of Johnson. But above all it's the gruff tone and authority of the tenor that impresses throughout.

Favourite Things (2)

2008-01-20T05:09:00.000-08:00

I was a teenager when my brother brought home a copy of John Coltrane's 'Coltrane Plays the Blues.' We played it over and over- it took time to understand what was going on, but gradually the music became more familiar; I still played it a lot because it had become a favourite, and when I decided to start a jazz appreciation club at school, I made an approximate copy of the cover for my poster as a kind of manifesto- we wouldn't be listening to any Acker Bilk records.

That cover!- a simple collage on a purple ground,signed M Norman, with the title in lower case and the Atlantic fan at the bottom right- it was so hip, so modern; I loved it.

Blues to Elvin begins with a two-note bass figure doubled by the piano, and answered by a repeated piano phrase. Coltrane enters with such a simple phrase, three notes, a pause, four notes, then constructs a calm, beautifully idiomatic blues solo- no sheets of sound here- which manages to avoid any tired blues clichés. Tyner's solo keeps the mood, single-note lines until the chorded last chorus, raising the temperature a little before Coltrane re-enters with a more impassioned statement, reaching for high harmonics at times, but still keeping his phrasing relatively simple. Then the music subsides and is suddenly ended.

No prizes for guessing that Blues to Bechet has Coltrane on soprano. The sleevenotes by Joe Goldberg suggest that he 'hauntingly evokes Bechet' but neither tone nor phrasing bear that out. He just sounds like Coltrane on soprano playing the blues, and that's good enough for me. The track begins with a snare roll, then Coltrane enters with a phrase that's too basic to bear the weight of the epithet 'theme'. There's no piano, so you can hear more clearly than on the first track the superb Elvin Jones, relaxed and urgent at the same time, and the 'just right' bass of Steve Davis, mostly just walking. Coltrane gradually builds the tension, the phrasing becoming more sinuous, then simpler again and out, ending as it began with a snare roll. No-one else solos.

Blues to You is the track that bothered me most on first hearing. Once more no piano, once more no real theme, but what a difference! The first two tracks are both taken at a slowish lope, this one hurtles along with Coltrane stretching blues tonality to the limit on tenor. I'd never heard so abstracted a blues before, and at first it sounded as if player and instrument were involved in a wrestling match. And with Elvin effectively duetting with Coltrane- Steve Davis is really expendable on this track- there's a constant barrage of sound. Elvin takes some fours and a whole solo chorus, but they didn't come where I expected them; it was as if Coltrane just decided to stop playing.It was scary and exciting, and though I didn't really understand it, it amazed and intrigued me.

I didn't mean this to turn into a track-by track description, so I'll just say that Mr Day has some furious blowing over a bass ostinato and repeated piano pattern and a richly chordal solo by Tyner, and the closing Mr Knight again starts with a bass ostinato; when Elvin enters with a quiet drum figure you know it's going to be a great performance- a modal mid-tempo blues with Coltrane producing a cliche-free solo. Tyner's solo is beautifully relaxed and exciting.

I've left until last my favourite track from the second side, Mr Syms, where Coltrane again plays soprano. We're back with the gentle lope of Blues to Bechet, but whereas that was a straight 12-bar, Mr Syms stretches the form- it's a blues with a bridge (blues avec un pont- Bechet's sparring partner Mezz Mezzrow used to call it). The theme is 48 bars long, with a 12-bar blues as the A section, and a bridge whose melody is close to Summertime. Tyner plays a beautifully relaxed solo, just one chorus, then Coltrane plays the bridge, and the 12 bar A section once.

The cd adds 'Untitled Original' from the same sessions, but the 6 tracks of the lp sound pretty close to perfect to me.

Thinking of Blues to Bechet reminds me of a cd I heard last week for the first time, though it was issued in 2006; it's by a young saxophonist who I'd never heard before: Hugo Siegmeth. It's is on the German ACT label- Red Onions- Celebrating Sidney Bechet. Siegmeth wisely avoids the soprano, sticking to tenor and clarinet, playing songs from the length of Bechet's career. The description of the music on the ACT website is very good, so rather than repeating it I'll just point you here

Favourite Things (1)

2007-12-29T03:33:00.000-08:00

A customer and friend suggested I should write about some of the records closest to my heart, and I'm happy to oblige. So this is the first of an occasional series; it's not in any way meant to be a 'best of' listing nor an 'essential records'- these are simply performances I would not want to be without.

Sidney Bechet: The Bechet/ Spanier Big Four

I started to listen to jazz during the British trad boom in the '60s, and much of my musical education came from listening to Peter Clayton's BBC radio jazz programme. I soon graduated to bebop & beyond (and Charles Fox) but I think it must have been on the radio that I first heard the New Orleans clarinet & soprano saxophone player Sidney Bechet.

Bechet's style was direct and imperious, and I found it thrilling; the wide, flaring vibrato that many thought excessive seemed to me to give his music an almost operatic drama; he would often try to dominate the ensemble, wresting the lead from the trumpeter, and he usually succeeded, though Wild Bill Davison faced him down on the Blue Notes they made together in the '40s.

In general he did not get on well with trumpet players; his relationship with Louis Armstrong was particularly difficult, and though the records they made together in 1923 under Clarence Williams' name are wonderful, and would be more wonderful still save for the presence of Eva Taylor, their 1940 reunion is a real disappointment. And there's a great story in John Chilton's Bechet biography concerning an Armstrong concert where Bechet was also booked to play. Bechet did not turn up, pleading illness, but was later seen jamming in a club. Armstrong's mob-connected manager sent him a note suggesting that in future he should stay out of smoky dives for the sake of his health!

Listening to the recordings Bechet and Bunk Johnson made together for Blue Note, I get the impression that Bechet held himself back, playing only clarinet rather than the more aggressive soprano sax, knowing that Bunk was scarcely playing at full strength. But the Bechet/Spanier sessions, recorded just before the reunion with Armstrong in 1940, are a rare example of Bechet choosing to cooperate with, rather than struggle against a trumpeter- or in this case cornet-player.

There are 10 sides, including 2 alternate takes, mostly around 4 minutes each; they were recorded for HRS, a pioneering independent jazz label- read the HRS story here, and issued on 12" 78s. The page also gives a link to Dan Morgenstern's excellent notes on the Bechet sessions, though he is kinder to the rather pedestrian guitar and bass work of Carmen Mastren and Wellman Braud than I would be. But it's the interplay between Spanier's forthright but relaxed cornet lead, open and muted, and Bechet's complementary sax and clarinet lines which is important, and even if Bechet had - like many other jazz improvisers- some set phrases he tended to repeat, the intensity of his playing makes them appear newly-minted. And here for once Bechet works with the lead instrument, not dominating or deferring. Listen to Sweet Sue- it opens with solo breaks, then a beautifully balanced ensemble. Bechet solos on soprano with Spanier playing quietly behind, then returns the complement during Spanier's solo. He then switches to clarinet playing chalumeau behind the guitar solo. More ensemble with Bechet still on clarinet, then back to the breaks and out. A remarkable variety of textures for a quartet, and great timeless jazz.

I first came across these sides on an Ember lp- A Tribute to Sidney Bechet, which had room for all 10 sides, but omitted One Hour and the 2 alternates in favour of 2 tracks from another HRS session featuring Rex Stewart, Lawrence Brown & Barney Bigard on leave from Duke's band. This strange decision is made worse by the claim in Bix Curtis' sleevenotes that 'this is the 1st time all the tracks have been issued on one album in this country'. The sides have been issued countless times on lp and cd, and are easy to find.

And they are proof, if such were needed, that jazz soprano playing did not begin with Coltrane or Steve Lacy.

Cecil Payne

2007-12-26T09:31:00.000-08:00

A friend just rang me to ask if I'd heard of the death of bebop baritone player Cecil Payne at the end of November. Last year we had been in New York together, and I'd read that Payne was playing at the Kitano Hotel, a swanky mid-town joint which had started featuring jazz regularly.

Frankly, I was surprised to learn that Payne was still alive, and decided that the chance to hear him live was not to be missed, despite the fact that I'm not keen on the mid-town clubs- they're too plush and the beer's too expensive, and I resent the practice of adding your cover to the drinks bill, charging tax on it, and (I suspect) assuming you'll add a tip based on the total.
I persuaded my friend (not much of a jazz fan) to come along, hoping he would not resent a evening spent listening to an 80+ -year-old baritone player. To my delight he later told me it was the highlight of his stay.

And it was a delight; we were a little nervous when an old frail man with thick plastic glasses was wheeled onto the bandstand and his instrument was hung round his neck. The rest of the sextet, including to my great pleasure Harold Mabern on piano, assembled, and we were treated to an hour of high quality bebop. Payne's tone was secure, and though his breath came in shorter bursts his phrasing was nimble, and he did not hold back at all- he soloed as much as anyone, and took a ballad feature. It's a night I'll remember.

I know him best for his fine albums on Muse ('Yes, I think I remember that label' he told me when I thanked him after the set) and am surprised that they don't sell better; I'm playing his 'Bird Gets the Worm'- with Tom Harrell, Duke Jordan, Buster Williams and Al Foster, recorded 1976- as I type this, and find I have 3 copies in stock currently! And at least as many of his album of Charlie Parker music (with Clark Terry) issued originally on Charlie Parker Records, and reissued in the UK on countless bargain labels. When I was a teenager in the '60s those labels were all I could afford- Summit, Eros, Society (Ember were a bit more expensive)- and there was so much great music on them- the Parker Savoys, Duke Jordan's 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses', lots of Lester. Now of course I know I would be richer now if I had saved up for Blue Notes, but then I was happy to get my weekly fix.

But I digress; Cecil Payne was perhaps the first baritone player to play convincing bebop, and his big gruff tone was instantly recognisable. I was pleased to read that younger players had coaxed him out of retirement, and that he had received support from the Jazz Federation of America- http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,,2219447,00.html

New York Notes

2007-12-02T03:45:00.000-08:00

I was in NYC at the beginning of November for the record fair run annually by the listener-supported radio station WFMU. It's a big affair with hundreds of dealers, and I kid myself each year that if I buy wisely enough it will pay for the trip. And the present state of the dollar means that if I can buy for a dollar and sell for a pound, I'm happy. I'm even happier when I get to hear some good music.

It was not an outstanding year at the fair, but I picked up some good stuff, including labels like Muse and Xanadu which don't seem to be highly regarded in the US (perhaps they are too familiar) but are well-liked in Europe and Japan, probably because they were not distributed widely outside the US. They don't go for high prices, but they sell. (They also contain some great late-bop- Barry Harris, Charles McPherson, some off the most engaged Sonny Stitts.)

Muse also issued a few free jazz albums - freebop really, which is a term I know I overuse, but it describes well the range of music I love the most, with melodic freedom and a loose but steady jazz beat. A favourite Muse issue is drummer Barry Altschul's 'You Can't Name Your own Tune'(Muse MR5124) with a great band- Sam Rivers, Muhal, George Lewis (blessedly electronics-free), Dave Holland. Intense, driving music, full of surprises.

I'd planned to hear Houston Person at the Rose Centre, but when I saw that Barry was playing at one of my favourite NYC venues, the Cornelia St Cafe, I changed plans. (The night before they had featured a band playing Krysztof Komeda's music- I found out too late.) Barry's band comprised Paul Smoker (trumpet), the unknown-to-me Hayes Greenfield, alto, George Schuller, bass. Two sets of originals, and you won't be surprised to learn that they inhabited Ornette's sound-world. It was a knockout. The revelation of the night for me was the bass-playing of George Schuller, who I guess I must have heard before without really hearing - he played big fat Haden-esque notes, with no sliding or scampering- perfect.

Other highlights of the trip included: white-whiskered Ted Curson perched on a stool like a black Buddah and blowing with great fire with a young band at the Wholefoods Market on Houston & meeting the 75-year-old Yusef Lateef at the same venue, playing flute and reciting devotional poetry at the launch of his (ghosted and sadly dull) autobiography. I'd assumed that the former William Evans had adopted an Islamic name for the political reasons that inspired many hard bop and free jazz musicians; I learned from the autobiography that he had converted in 1948 and was a member of the Ahmadiyya community, which- presumably- has no problem with Lateef playing wind instruments, which are haram to many Muslims. He is certainly devout enough to have refused (gracefully, standing to make a bow) to shake the hand of a woman who bought a copy of his book.

I also went for the first time to Smoke, a club on Broadway at the southern edge of Harlem, to hear drummer Bill Stewart's quartet with David Kikoski on piano, Dwayne Burno on bass, and Seamus Blake on tenor. It was the first set of their second night at the club, and the room was full- I had to perch at the bar. The 1st half of the set was played without the bassist, who was held up in traffic. Stewart had brought a set of originals with him, but until Burno arrived, they jammed on the blues and rhythm changes. Playing such familiar material allowed Kikoski to fill in the missing bass part with a walking left hand, and they stormed through the changes with real fire.

Strangely, the same thing had happened at a gig in Nottingham shortly before I left for NYC. Pianist Kirk Lightsey, who visits the UK frequently, doesn't particularly like playing standards, and does like to play with English bassist Steve Watts and drummer Dave Wickens. (And who wouldn't?) Steve had to pull out at very short notice, and rather than substitute a bassist who didn't know Lightsey's music, they decided to manage without, adding a saxophonist who had recorded with Lightsey recently. It was close to being a disaster.

They kept to the set they had prepared, and Dave Wickens had obviously chosen to patter around on the drum kit rather than drive the band- a reasonable decision. Unfortunately the saxophonist was woefully unprepared, and the burden of holding the whole thing together fell to the pianist. Kirk is a formidable and hardworking player- you may have heard him with Chet Baker, Dexter Gordon or the cooperative band The Leaders (with Arthur Blythe)- and someone whose sheer pleasure in playing communicates itself well to the audience. By the end of the first set he was dripping with sweat from the effort, but there was a bass-shaped hole in the music.

Which made me admire David Kikoski even more.

Watch out for Empirical

2007-10-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Together with 3 friends, I run a jazz club in Leicester; we put on around 12-14 gigs a year, mostly in a nice old Edwardian theatre owned by the YMCA. John, a jazz drummer (who once interviewed Miles Davis, Roy Haynes, Chick Corea- but that's another story) does the accounts; Chris, an arts management teacher handles the grant applications and takes photographs, Nick- another jazz drummer and saxophonist- does the bookings and publicity; I stand at the back and sell cds, and we all do our fair share of worrying that no-one will turn up to be in the audience.

There have been plenty of gigs where we have lost money; in fact it's far easier to count the ones where we made a profit, but in all the years that Leicester Jazzhouse has been in existence, I can think of only one gig that I regret promoting because of the quality of the music. (No, of course I won't.)

I'm glad to say the really memorable ones have been more frequent; some obvious ones: Lee Konitz with John Taylor, Dave Green & Trevor Tomkins, the night with Sheila Jordan & Harvie S(wartz) when the pa broke down and so she sang without, Elton Dean's Newsense with Roswell Rudd, Evan Parker with Tony Levin.... (& the solo gig where Evan played Monk tunes)

and some less obvious: Gilad Atzmon's first gig outside London, Will Vinson, and 2 nights ago a young band called Empirical, fresh from winning the EBU award for new bands at the North Sea Jazz Festival- see http://www.myspace.com/empiricalmusic

I first heard them in Nottingham at Jazz Steps at the Bonington Theatre (the only venue I know where you can stand in the bar and look down at swimmers in the pool below.) I do a cd stall there also, so attend most of their gigs. To be honest, when I saw the band photo in the programme I anticipated hearing another identikit hard bop band; by the end of the evening I knew we had to book them. (And book them quickly; I'm sure they will soon be charging more than we can afford!)

There has been one change in personnel from the band I heard in Nottingham (and which made their debut cd on Courtney Pine's Destin-E label) but no change of direction; their roots are in hard bop- 3 of them are graduates from Gary Crosby's Tomorrow's Warriors- but crucially they have been inspired by the music of Ornette Coleman, and their Colemanesque combination of abstraction and dancing melody makes their music both intriguing and immediately engaging.

Some of their themes are perhaps a little too complex- they are young enough to sort that later-but they negociate them with a crackling confidence and with none of the 'head in the dots' stance you see at so many gigs. They play with an infectious enthusiasm and delight & look far too young to be as good as they are, showing an endearing ingenuousness when they announce a song 'inspired by David Attenborough's Blue Planet- we're all really into that.'

Catch them if you can.

From: The Blind Eye- a Book of Late Advice by Don Paterson (Faber 2007)

2007-10-12T07:18:00.000-07:00

You've made a blog...Clever boy! Next: flushing

Jazz by the Erdre

2007-09-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

I discovered the Nantes Jazz Festival- Les Rendez-Vous de L'Erdre- by accident last year. I was planning a solitary holiday in France, and there was only a limited period of time when I could take the break. I wanted time to read and relax, but if there was some jazz, all the better. Turning to Google, I entered the dates, added Jazz Festival France, and up popped Nantes. The programme was very tempting- Henri Texier, Roswell Rudd, Mingus Dynasty....even more tempting was the fact that all 80+ concerts were free, there would be a record fair, and street food from every francophone nation would be on sale.

Of course I returned this year, wondering why the festival wasn't better known outside France, even outside the region. We heard no English voices, saw few cars from outside the region (you can tell from the number plate).

The festival covers Friday-Sunday night of the 1st weekend in September; the 2007 programme included Ricky Ford, the Paris Big Band, the Sclavis/Texier/Romano trio and the remarkable Japanese ensemble Shibusa Shirazu.

Ricky Ford played harder, tougher than I'd heard him before, in a Coltrane-inspired set. Unfortunately the trio with him was led by a drummer of such crass insensitivity that there was no rapport with Ford. Christian Vander- « Drum hero » mondialement reconnu, compositeur, chanteur, batteur fondateur de Magma- according to the website, obviously thought he was emulating Elvin Jones, unfortunately without any of that great drummer's taste and discernment. (One odd moment: Ford leaned away from the mike at one point in the middle of a chorus and caught a breath- many in the audience immediately started to clap as if the solo was over.) It makes me wonder how many jazz listeners understand/ can hear song form during an improvisation. Perhaps I should take along some copies of Conrad Cork's 'Harmony with Lego Bricks' -see www.tadleyewing.co.uk

The musical highlight of the festival was the Sclavis/Texier/Romano trio, a working band who really did listen to each other. Louis Sclavis mostly played soprano and bass clarinet, managing neither to sound like Coltrane on the former nor Dolphy on the latter. Sophia Domancich played a beautiful duo set with drummer Simon Goubert, and French-resident organist Rhoda Scott cooked up a storm with an all woman band, all previously unknown to me- Sophie Alour (sax) Lisa Cat-Berro (sax) Julie Saury (dms).

We missed the Paris Big Band- by the time we reached the riverside 'scene' where they were playing every seat was taken, there was a huge standing crowd, and we were tired- from a distance they sounded good!

But the real spectacular highlight was the performance by Shibusa Shirazu, a 30+-strong troupe involving musicians, dancers, a painter and a 20-foot floating dragon. I'm not sure I can find the words to describe the performance, which began with a dancer in a loincloth unfurling a banner, followed by Tokyo 'bar girls' in orange and green wigs, mock-Hawaiian dancers waving giant bananas, a male singer in what looked like a large nappy and short dressing-gown, a young woman flautist with white angel wings who leaped around and sang (whatever she's on can I have some please?), butoh dancers and a 20-piece band who played wild improvisations over a thunderous rock beat. The two guitarists both thought they were Hendrix, one tenor player had listened to a lot of Gato Barbieri, the other to Rollins, and there were exciting solos by two trumpet-players. Then along came the dragon, controlled by two men in rowing boats, expertly steered down the Erdre in front of the stage.

You probably wouldn't buy the cd, and at 2 hours it was maybe 15minutes too long, but what a spectacle! You can get a taste of it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snF_7YiGVGw.
But really, you had to be there.

At at the record fair, I came across a copy of Komeda's 'Astygmatic' on vinyl, which I had failed to find in Krakow. So I guess I'll go again next year, especially if the moules-frites, oyster and Muscadet stall is there again.

Richard Cook 1957-2007

2007-09-07T07:58:00.000-07:00

With the death of Richard Cook at the tragically early age of 50, the jazz community has lost one of its most articulate and broad-minded advocates.

Author of books on Blue Note Records and the recordings of Miles Davis as well as an encyclopedia of jazz, editor of Jazz Review, instigator of the Polygram UK jazz reissue programme, co-author (with Brian Morton) of the essential Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, his enthusiasms were individual and wide-ranging- it's hard to imagine any other jazz magazine daring to put Bing Crosby on the cover, as Jazz Review did in an early issue. I hope the magazine and the Guide survive without him, but he will be a very hard act to follow.

He used to be a regular at the (now-discontinued) Wimbledon Record Fair selling off surplus vinyl. When I bought a few (very reasonably-priced) albums from him and thanked him by name he seemed a little surprised to be recognised; I wish now I had told him how much I admired his writing.

Why start a blog?

2007-08-20T06:04:00.000-07:00

I won't claim to have any original insights; even the title of this blog is borrowed (from Francis Davis- one of the most interesting jazz commentators). But as someone who's listened to a lot of recorded jazz , attended (& promoted) a lot of gigs and bought & sold a lot of jazz on vinyl and cd- see www.jazzhouserecords.co.uk- I thought my random jottings might be of a little interest to someone. Hubris perhaps.

I was inspired by a blog I happened upon when looking for some information on a favourite saxophonist of mine, Bill McHenry- see http://nightafternight.blogs.com/night_after_night/2006/02/enigma_variatio.html which is so well written and insightful & put the thought into my head that it might be worth trying something similar.

I'll write about music I've heard, records I wouldn't want to be without, and the mysteries of record dealing. And not too many obituaries, I hope.

Memories of Max

2007-08-18T07:17:00.000-07:00

I only once had the pleasure of hearing Max Roach live , at the Haymarket Theatre in Leicester when his quartet with Odean Pope did a Contemporary Music Network tour. After the gig, in which Max charmed us all with his solo 'Papa Jo' party piece, which finished with him playing the hi-hat with a cloth, a few of us were allowed into his dressing room, carrying lps for him to sign.

The guy in front of me had one of those Italian Deja Vu near-bootlegs with the black covers; 'We never got paid for this album' said Max, but graciously signed it anyway. I'd taken along the Hat duo album with Archie Shepp- the Long March; he looked up at me questioningly: 'Do you like this?' and signed it: Thank You. Max Roach 10/15/89.

It's one of the many Max Roach records I'd not want to live without, together with the Bird/Diz Koko session, the recently discovered 1945 Town Hall concert, the Massey Hall concert, Saxophone Colossus, the Freedom Suite, pretty much everything by the Roach/Clifford Brown quintet. And the trios with Bud Powell Herbie Nichols & Sonny Clark. In fact it's just occurred to me that if I could keep records featuring one drummer only, it would be Max.

Dizzy Gillespie once said : Kenny Clarke was the godfather, Art Blakey was the hurricane, Max Roach was the poet.

Memories of Paul Rutherford 1940-2007

2007-08-11T02:54:00.000-07:00

For a while Paul taught at De Montfort University; one lunchtime he gave an impromptu solo trombone concert to students and a few of us who'd got to hear of the gig. In his Guardian obituary John Fordham describes his style as 'glancing, elusive' and that sums it up well- little snatches of melody coming at you from all angles, short passages of multiphonics. After 2 longish sets the applause was loud and sincere, then Paul said: I think I'll play a bit more. In the bar afterwards I asked him to name his favourite trombonist; he replied Honoré Dutrey (& and now I'll never know if he was putting me on.)

The last time I heard him was when Leicester Jazz House promoted Elton Dean's Newsense (ie the new edition of Ninesense) at the Y Theatre. There were problems; the BBC recorded the gig and had to drill a big hole in the outside wall to accommodate cables; the theatre decided to hang on to all of the BBC location fee which we had hoped to keep a slice of, and the piano tuner failed to turn up, which did not exactly please Keith Tippett- we finally got him there at half time. But all this was forgotten when in the second set the trombone section: Paul, Annie Whitehead and Roswell Rudd was let loose.

Paul was a proud man, well aware of how important a musician he was, and angry that he did not receive the recognition he deserved; he would point out that although Albert Mangelsdorff was credited with introducing multiphonics to trombone improvisation, he himself was there first. He was an unreconstructed Leninist, refusing to accept that his hero had any part in the degeneration of the 1917 revolution into tyranny.

Fordham reports that Paul's last job was as a doorman in a working men's club; shame on us.

Krakow July 2007

2007-08-09T07:04:00.000-07:00

Having previously visited Tallinn and Budapest, I thought I'd add Krakow to my portfolio, especially as the Summer Jazz Festival was on. I got to see the excellent guitarist Jarek Smietana at the Pod Baranami jazz club, and the Rashied Ali Quintet at Radio Krakow. The Ali band played pretty straight ahead freebop- band-members unknown to me apart from the bassist Joris Teepe. The front line was exciting if a little incoherent- I kept thinking of Lester's question: Can you play me a song? The last number they played was from The Wizard of Oz: If I Only Had a Brain (played with Giant Steps changes and renamed If I Only Had a Gig!)

Vinyl pickings were thin; before leaving I'd left a message on virtualtourist.com asking if anyone knew of vinyl shops there: no replies. I found one shop, with a few hunded lps of various kinds and a few cds locked away in a cupboard. I bought a few albums (of course) paying in most cases more than I should have done. Mostly US musicians recorded in Europe- festivals etc- and a nice Namyslowski record. They'll appear in the November listing (yes, the September & October lists are already full- the results of a very good collection I bought in Cardiff a few months ago.)

Piotr the shop owner was pessimistic about the Polish record industry: It's a mess! and characterised all the other record shops in town as 'rubbish', but Music Corner near the huge market square had a good collection of Polish jazz cds, including all the Komeda and Stanko albums I'd naively hoped to find on vinyl! (Piotr said he had some 'special records at home' but when he mentioned the price he wanted for them I decided not to take him up on his offer.)

So I was left with a few zlotys to spend on Bison Grass Vodka.