Fly in, fly out

It was like being whisked away.  First I thought of NYC obviously, as that's a common site, but perhaps New Orleans was more apt.  The music was madly swinging with bass way on top of the beat and wildly, ecstatically driving and busy, but still that essential blues character.  This was swing and done hard.  We were at Smiths and the band was concocted from visiting players from Harry Connick's band that was playing the next night at the Canberra Theatre, but this was a club and we could hear these guys and see them close up and have a chat between sets.  My joke was to bassist Neal 'Sugar' Caine that I wouldn't shake his hand because it must be so strong.  He'd been playing with huge strokes and effort for loud notes and I guess it's from a history of playing jazz bass with no amp (unamplified jazz bass is hard work) but maybe form mainly playing gut.  And there was his partner Jerry Weldon, all slouched over his tenor, explosive and inventive but also dynamic with quiet phrases ... occasionally.  These were the leaders and they introduced the members and tunes.  The tunes were all standards and the style was swing, often very hard,  and the energy was 110% although there was a ballad.  Jerry would largely manage the solos and swapped fours for local Andrew Dickeson and to some degree for local resident Americans John Harkins and JC Styles and he'd lead a few more fills from a few more horns from Connick's band later in the night when they sat in for a few final tunes.  A jam session expanding with fellow internationals!  Not a common Canberra experience.   All that with that explosive energy that's the USA.  I see it as an element of desperation and love to hear it, although I'm wary of the winner society that's partly its source.  But it makes for commitment and that energy is a feature.  John Harkins was a bit more restrained although could be quick and could be chromatic.  JC Styles was crispy sharp and lithe with clipped notes.  The later visitors were Deon Tucker and Geoff Burke, respectively trom and alto, comfy and busy in the end of night loss of restraint.  We were all smiles at this stage, amused and amazed by the energy that can be unrestrained swing.  Lucky and worthy local Flynn Marcus got a very decent chorus in too.  So this was the night.  There was a good degree of milling around past midnight as the night ended and we exited Smiths.  Oh, not West 4th or Frenchmen St but not far off this night.

Jerry Weldon (tenor) and Neal 'Sugar' Caine (bass) led a quintet with JC Stylles (guitar), John Harkins (piano) and Andrew Dickeson (drums) and two sit-ins Deon Tucker (trombone) and Geoff Burke (alto) from their Harry Connick Jnr band and local Flynn Marcus (tenor).

OWJF2022-11

I went off to the Baptist Church and got something somewhat at the other end of the spectrum, Ray Beadle trio.  This was blues guitar (the goldtop Les Paul was fitting) with keys and drums.  Ray sang occasionally.  This was very professional, neat, not overly adventurous, entertaining. 

Then probably the find of the night, Virna Sanzone with Phil Stack.  It takes chops for both artists to carry this out effectively, just vocals and double bass.  I was entranced with some great singing, professional mic control, great songs and telling lyrics.  And that bass playing.  Phil was adventurous, out on a limb, sometimes not quite finding what he was seeking, but absolutely committed, hugely fluent and dynamic.  This was a joyous and awesome find.  Did they mention it, or did I think it: jazz adjacent.  So true.  Tunes by Leon Russell and latins and Around midnight.  Loved this one.

Big day; getting to the end, but after finding the pub and some company, I would miss it.  To end, I was back to the Lord Anson for Cope Street Parade.  Now, how apt is a jazz festival finishing with its history, New Orleans, Everything you do, Bourbon Street Parade, Nat King Cole, When I get too old to dream, 2 feels all round.  Great stuff nicely played.  I left passing the musos corner at the pub noticing bassists together.  Also an apt finish to a festival.

So how was the festival?  Some great playing.  Opportunities to catch all manner of styles and players, some of Sydney's jazz luminaries and upcomers, all worthy to fabulous, all together in time and space.  Not at all surprising given SIMA's involvement.  I think the town was happy, too, and I know it's due back next year.  Queen's Birthday weekend, 2023.  Keep it in mind and bring your warm jackets.

Ray Beadle, Virna Sansone and Phil Stack and Cope Street Parade played at the inaugural Orange Winter Jazz Festival.  Ray Beadle (guitar, vocals) played with Clayton Doley (keys) and Andrew Dickeson (drums).  Virna Sanzone (vocals) sang with Phil Stack (bass).  Cope Street Parade comprised Justin Fermino (saxophones, vocals), Aaron Flower (guitar, vocals), Ben Panucci (guitar, vocals) and Sam Dobson (bass, vocals).

Berklee comes to town

Sheryl Bailey, NYC guitarist and professor at Berklee College in Boston, came to Canberra. She was playing with some Australian mates, Andrew Dickeson and Ashley Turner. It was a stunner of a concert, but not just that: there was a workshop, too. All open to the public and free. First up, the workshop. We had two student groups up to play a few tunes and get comments from all three performers. I certainly got lots from this session. Communication and dynamics; comping and listening; some generous commentary on drum matters, eg, on the swing inherent in traditional versus matched grip; two-feels and four; knowing the language / familiarity with the genre, playing along to recordings and learning how key players have dealt with tunes and grooves and chords; comping for guitar; groove as key ("no-one ever lost a gig from grooving too hard"); the importance of 3rds and 7ths while bass provides the root ("if you don't know the 3rds and 7ths you don't know the song". Sheryl displayed this brilliantly with a melody of phrasings leading to 3rds and 7ths); laying out, even sometimes on drums and, alternatively, keeping energy when playing quietly; transcribing rhythms, even if not voicings ("be provocative rhythmically"); 8th notes and the power of accents and learning by singing; a suggestion to get the Omnibook (referring to Charlie Parker) and learn Monk and Wayne Shorter; learn tunes; solos as melodies on harmonic form, not just chords and arpeggios. Also some stories: Jimmy Cobb said "we didn't care" about his trio playing behind Miles or others, implying the strength of the groove was what mattered; jazz is "not guitarist's music, it's horn players' music" so think fingerings, etc; practising by long application, eg, playing one tempo 1 hour pd for a week; record yourself; "isolate things you suck at and practice them" then integrate.
Then the concert. Nine tunes over 90 minutes, all standards, three by Monk (both Sheryl and Andrew had entered the Thelonious Monk competition). Wayne Kelly sat in for a blues towards the end. Some slower tunes, Lover man in 3/4, Isfahan, Panonica; two more Monks, Eronel, Epistrophy. Jobim How insensitive (I didn't know it was from a Chopin theme) and Invitation and You stepped out of a dream. Nothing too unusual or particularly out although there were dissonant harmonic colours at times, all stunningly sharp and interesting and skilled and fabulously expressed. That's what practice does, as it should. An eye-opener.

Sheryl Bailey (guitar) led a trio with Ashley Turner (bass) and Andrew Dickeson (drums) for a concert and workshop at the ANU School of Music Band Room.

Messages from jazz history

We all know of Art Blakey for his longstanding Jazz Messengers as a training ground for so many jazz musicians of note and of the great post-bop tunes that the band played. I hadn't realised quite how much this was a cooperative venture, but it seems obvious when you consider that so many members penned tunes. And it was no surprise to hear of AB with the bop crew and especially Monk. But what did surprise me was to hear of his playing with the swing big bands of Fletcher Henderson and Billy Eckstine. Perhaps we shouldn't be. Bop-era names played in swing bands while bop was still a developing revolution. Sothe extent of AB's history was a revelation, from the '40s through to that long post-bop ascendancy that only ended in the late '80s. So it was a great pleasure to hear Andrew Dickeson take on the Messengers mantle for a performance at the ANU PopUp for Geoff Page. There were tunes we know and love and some lesser knowns. We all love the insinuating melodies of Ugetsu, Along came Betty, Nica's dream, One by one, Ceora (by stars in their own right: Cedar Walton, Benny Golson, Horace Silver, Wayne Shorter, Lee Morgan). I was less taken but still exhilarated by the quickies (both ~340bpm): Bu's delight and The beehive. I enjoy the speed but the melodies suffer as solos become screed rather than passages. The band was great: sharp, accurate, neat and with great solos all round. They were mostly fairly senior, although with a young gun on piano, as was AB's way. I enjoyed Andrew's chats and snippets of history, like how his wife disliked hearing Along came Betty, written for a prior girlfriend, until the royalties started coming in. Or the talk of Nica (Baroness Kathleen Annie Pannonica de Koenigswarter), she of jazz patronage and Rothschild fortune. I also enjoyed our own Wayne Kelly coming to the stage to feature on Now's the time. He has recorded with Andrew. He did a great job, but they all did, not least the young gun. I noticed plenty of knowing smiles around this stage during the night. The two horns were beautifully intoned, authentic in their counterpoint on heads and both soloed with discretion but lovely phrasing. Piano was young and more expansive and mighty in speed through his longer solos. Bass sounded great, took some nice solos, held walks at ~340 (not relaxing!) and spelt some lovely lines. Andrew himself was reasonably discrete, although had a fair share of solos and they were incredibly neat and always a blast. He told a story that AB had complained of young drummers who thought drumming was all too simple. His style was of steady swing regularity but could be intense with hits and noisy responses. I never caught Art Blakey so this was as close as I am going to get and it was great. Hugely satisfying and very strong swing and some memorable jazz hits.

Andrew Dickeson (drums) led a quintet comprising Al Davey (trumpet, flugelhorn), Andrew Robertson (tenor), Matt Harris (piano) and Ashley Turner(bass). Wayne Kelly (piano) sat in for one tune. They played the music of Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers at the ANU PopUp for Geoff Page.

Old and young guns, pt.2

Bernie led his standard quartet and what bliss! I felt transported to another era and place by this concert. But the actual place, Street One, suited the band brilliantly. I don’t usually like jazz under a proscenium arch, but The Street was strangely intimate with its sagging cabaret-like backdrop and the band up front on stage with gentle colour washes.

I heard Bernie’s sax as slithering and seductive and unobtrusively articulated, undemonstrative and perhaps wary but nimble and open to experience. It’s been likened to Australian bush and I felt it as birdsong, nimble and seductive as that is. Warwick is anything but the same, but I was in Heaven when he entered with harmonies over melodies. This was the closest, most articulate, most familial harmonies I could imagine. But his soloing was anything but like Bernie’s. Warwick was all even eights or shreds of sixteenths, running chords with even volume and intensity but with phrasing that toyed with the bars running below. One trumpeter said after that he’s the best, meaning he’s the best jazz player, for this is classical, cerebral jazz: just melody improvised over chords with immense harmonic and technical skills and tightly controlled tone. Fabulous. What of the rhythm section? Andrew is renowned for his swing and, to my ears, it’s a swing of an era. I heard it as ‘40s: snappy, choppy and coarse-grained, authentic to style and displaying the influences of the pre-bop. Brendan was just supremely comfortable. Again, lots of bop-like swing, vivid soloing up the neck and a nicely balanced tone but with an upper-mid edge (he’s switched from gut to Obligatos and loves them, partly for bowability). I’ll particularly mention one spot where was playing an obligato (in Db I think) and dropped the volume from strong to the lightest but with a constant intensity. Now that’s control! The tunes were Bernie’s recognisable repertoire, some of which have become standards for Australia jazzers. First were The breeze and I, the Spirit song. Then a blues and Sweet and lovely, a ballad, Finally, Paul Desmond’s Wendy. I was just a little surprised to hear “Paul Desmond is “one of my all-time favourite saxophone players” but I probably shouldn’t be. Just 5 tunes? Maybe I missed one, but these were long takes with extended solos. I’d been hanging out for this gig. I’ve heard Bernie before but this was the most convincing. Perhaps it was the quiet room and quiet and attentive audience to hear the detail. The room, the night, suited this band and they are classics. Great gig.

Bernie McGann (alto) led his quartet with Warwick Alder (trumpet), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Andrew Dickeson (drums).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

What maturity means

Alex Boneham said to me it’s like the music you learn at the Con but then seldom perform in public.

Andrew Dickeson led a quintet at the Gods and it was furious post-bop and beautiful ballads and down-home blues and it’s something any modern jazzer loves. But it was also the sheer skills that hit me this night. The very first bar had me in awe. It was sharp, precise, relaxed but laden with energy that was always about to explode. It’s a great skill: precision and power that sits and promises, even seduces, and clearly has energy sitting in reserve, even while the notes are scrolling by in sixteenths and the ideas are flowing freely. Then I heard a line from Warwick that I thought just sat so right and I realised there are perfect lines for certain combinations of chords and melodies and tempos. It’s no surprise, really, given the importance of transcription for advanced students, but it’s not obvious when we talk of improvisation as the basis for jazz. And then I noticed these perfect snippets all over the place. Warwick has a library of them. James and Steve had plenty of their own. The blues is replete with them. We call some of them “licks”, but there are others, too: perfect statements that ring true to our unconscious listening history. The music was not pretentious, not original compositions although there were original arrangements. They were reading, but you might not know it from the ease of the unison melodies. The band played standards but they were not common ones: Here and now, Never let me go, Ill wind, I’m a weaver of dreams, Embraceable you was common. Some tunes were features for the frontliners: Billie Holiday’s I’ll be seeing you was a feature for Warwick so James sat out; Embraceable you was a guitar trio with James. There were some blues: Freddie Hubbard’s Byrd-like and Carl Perkin’s hard-bopper Carl’s blues. The song is you was arranged by Andrew with odd staccatos that challenged the readers. It surfaced a few chuckles from Alex and smiles from Steve. The old hands up front were mostly phlegmatic but even they looked around with discrete smiles at times. There were some devastating solos from the masters. James reached to the top frets and was mostly above the first octave, but could fall away with clanking frets right down the neck, all within lines of furious speed and unending length. Warwick also played those long, fast lines, although I thought more scalar against James’ pentatonics. I remember his plays on scales where he started with, say, a third that then fell away, then a fourth, then a fifth, and so on. Get an idea and execute it, exercise-like, maintain it, explore and twist it. I was drooling at how much playing and practice was on display. Andrew was leading from the drum stool with a distant grin of concentration. He’s mainstream to my ears and so precise, driving from behind or laying solos that spell out melody in rolls and rudiments, quite loud and spot on. I heard Steve as less explosive than Warwick or James, playing tenor-style sustained eighth notes with rising and falling lines and neat bop-triplet fills in solos and pianistic colour in comping. Alex is a young master to my ears. His intonation was impressive despite (maybe because of) squirming like Charlie Haden, his solos were thoughtful - slow and intervallic or minimalistic and arpeggiated - and his tone was firm and edgy and to die for.

So, what to make of all this? Mature and classy and unpretentious but with some devastating, world-class skills. More than I could have hoped for. Andrew Dickeson (drums) led a quintet with Warwick Alder (trumpet), James Muller (guitar), Steve Barry (piano) and Alex Boneham (bass) at the Gods.

Our heritage

We hear tell of Bernie McGann as a key person in our Australian modern jazz heritage, with biographies in print and film. But he’s here, and very much performing with the same intent and his unique voice. We had a chance to hear it again at the Gods on Tuesday. Bernie came with his quartet: Warwick Alder, Brendan Clarke and Andrew Dickeson. This is jazz that harks right back to bop invention but speaks also with voices following bop. Bernie played standards that we recognised, but were none too common: The breeze and I and Memories of you and a tune by Dizzy. I’d mostly place his originals (Spirit song, Brownsville and others) in the post-bop tradition, with latin feels and strong walking swings, but that unique, haunting, impassioned alto sound is unique and renowned and easily recognisable. Band-wise, I was taken by a few things. Those fabulously easy and pure harmonies on the heads from Bernie and Warwick. The way Bernie would meld the melody and Warwick would follow so closely. The long, but never indulgent, solos from all the members, so that the two sets comprised only six tunes. Their incredible ability to hold a slow tempo and space feel in their version of Eubie Blake’s ballad, Memories of you: this was truly musical art. As a band, they sat or swung with ease, but also with conscious purpose.

Individually, they were wonderfully capable, of course, in solos and accompaniment. Bernie’s imploring alto that I mentioned above: mellifluous like honey, but not sweet; earthy as blown dust; ethereal as an unexpected shooting star; assured but allowing of doubt and ever forming, as true emotions are. Warwick was the other front liner, with a sinuous trumpet that merged so perfectly with Bernie on the heads, but veered into a very diverse style on solos. He was superbly defined in his statements, etude-like in his accuracy and clarity of purpose, precise in pitch and articulation. But I felt a real willingness to move the beat: well behind on some fast pieces for a bluesy authority, and over the beat for some ballads for a sense of urgency. His ability to form lines of eighth notes, then sixteenth, seemed unlimited: practised and precise, but never without purpose. That’s without even mentioning the way he grew each solo, controlling form and flow. Overwhelming trumpeting. Brendan’s just a war horse for swing with his enviable clarity of harmony and with never a passing chord missed. The notes weren’t unexpected, but they flowed with ease, and the expectation we had of each note was evidence of his skill. And then solos. One was truly sublime: a whole solo of double stops that was a thing of beauty. Others were more standard boppy outings. I noticed how they were quiet after the horns up front, but also how the audience was all ears to catch them. Andrew was the post-bop drummer: steady in time but busy; hard fighting and energetic; interjections that were more loud than sharp. Pushing his colleagues but ever ready to respond in kind. I felt Warwick particularly responding to his goading in solos.

Great night. Bernie McGann (alto) led his quartet with Warwick Alder (trumpet), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Andrew Dickeson (drums).