Revisiting favourites

Wang JF is mainly composed of the best of the Australian scene and it's a pleasure to catch up with them. In Canberra, I don't see them nearly often enough and Melbourne and Sydney listeners tend to see their own and not those from the other city. As for Brissie, Perth and the rest, I guess they see even less.

I'd recently seen James Muller and Steve Magnusson on two occasions in two different bands. They are such different guitarists and I was intrigued by how they'd work together. James is the ultimate smooth virtuoso; Steve the intriguingly divergent player. In this case, they were playing with Frank Di Sario and Danny Fischer. Scofield and Frisell were obviously on the program, and Solar (claimed by Miles as were many tunes), an original by Frank and some others. Apparently this was the third time that James and Steve have played together. James was breathtaking. I felt Steve didn't quite get the opportunity for his choppy and inventive style. Perhaps there was some competitiveness, conscious or not. I greatly admire each for his playing so I was a little disappointed by this outing. Interesting experiment, but in the end oil and water don't mix.


It's ages since I saw Sam Keevers at gigs with Jamie Oehlers and I've held admiration for his playing ever since. I admire the quiet and respectful with depths to be mined. Certainly his playing was like this when he played a set of tunes by Bernie McGann with his quintet. I felt these was clean, neat, steadily swinging period pieces somewhere around post-bop territory, lithe and steady and admirable as carriages for improv. Spirit song, Brownsville, Sweet Lucy, Mail, Twist. This is standard format with two horns out front. The fabulous pairing of Eugene Ball and Phil Noy were great together and strong apart in solos. Bass was Chris Hale, the first electric bass I'd seen at this festival. From afar, I didn't pick up on the subtleties, but up close this was pick and finger pick and chords with middle, ring and little fingers. This is six-string electric bass, which is an instrument that cries out for a new conception and Chris had one and it was well developed. Not at all standard in this context, but impressive. Craig on drums was steady as presumably required for this outing. Very well played and an admirable tribute and presumably particularly memorable for those who were close to Bernie, for Geoff and others.

James Muller (guitar) met Steve Magnusson (guitar) with Frank Di Sario (bass) and Danny Fischer (drums) supporting. Sam Keevers (piano) led a quintet with Phil Noy (alto), Eugene Ball (trumpet), Chris Hale (electric bass) and Craig Simon (drums) playing a tribute to Bernie McGann.

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

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).

Ugly beauty

By Daniel Wild

An evening with Bernie McGann and his Canberra friends, who are As Famous as the Moon, is to be savoured. This was a collaboration of joviality and affirmation.

McGann was recently inducted into the Graeme Bell Hall of Fame – entirely apt, considering that Bell is considered “the Father of Australian Jazz” and like Bell, McGann has done much to keep quintessential jazz movements like bebop fresh. He has imbued it with vitality and an originality that makes jazz players reassess their approach.

The Hippo Bar can be atmospheric, and with Wednesday’s live jazz, makes for a relaxed midweek outing. McGann, understandably, has mixed feelings playing here. Unless the music is full-blown hard bop or acid jazz, the crowd continually chatters and ironically, it is often those closest to the band who chat the loudest and longest. It’s great they’re having a good time, but if they’re going to indulge in riotous laughter, perhaps they shouldn’t do this under the collective noses of the band.

If you want to see Bernie McGann, sans bavarder, catch him at the ANU as part of the Jazz at the Gods series. Perhaps the cool jazz approach of Bernie and his cohorts lends itself to some idle background chatter, but it’s the chatter that should be in the background, not the music. Those in the know sat on the edge of their stools, musing over McGann’s distinct and personal statements.

As Paul Desmond inherited Charlie Parker’s advances on alto sax, so McGann has expanded Desmond’s. How do you describe McGann’s musical language? There are whimsical outbursts, sharp interjections, rapid machine gun flurries, tender reproaches, resigned expressions of love, primal mumbles, guttural conjectures and jocular yelps. And the music remains hauntingly melodic and human. Bernie establishes an intimate dialogue with the listener that makes the audience seem much smaller. He always keeps his audience in mind. His wealth of experience means he has much to offer his listeners and he can condense many years of life experience in a single solo.

Tonight McGann and jazzmen played three songs per set. Each one lasted about 15 minutes and everyone in the quartet had ample time to build thoughtful, rich and satisfying solos. They all took utterances from each other, built on them and offered contrasting ideas. The interweaving of the textures and their varying density meant the music was always morphing, sometimes abruptly, sometimes seamlessly.

The opening number, Tenor Madness, set the tone for the evening: exploration, dionysian celebration and humanism. Dirk Zeylmans offered interesting scalar passages and the spaces he leaves in between statements gives the listener time to work out where he is in the chorus. His style has connections with both Stan Getz and Warne Marsh. He likes to use the bebop device known as … “the bebop”, where a soloist ends a phrase on an offbeat. It is more common today to end phrases on the beat, but back in the forties and fifties, “the bebop” was all the rage.

Zeylmans shows just how different a tenor is from an alto sax. As well has having different registers, the embouchure required on tenor gives the player opportunities to phrase differently and use sound effects, especially on the lower end of the register, that the alto can’t achieve. Likewise, the alto can emit a range of effects that are less feasible on the tenor, such as greater pitch bend. McGann and Zeylmans amply demonstrated the contrasting possibilities of these instruments.

The second number, Little Suede Shoes, is a composition by Parker in Latin style. It was Parker who first brought Latin stylings to the attention of New York musicians. Getz later extended this project. Both McGann and Zeylmans explored the possibilities the seemingly simple head offered, then launched into more elaborate improvisations that reflected their own idiosyncratic approaches.

Both Chris Thwaite on drums and Lachlan Coventry on bass guitar provided a steady rhythm section when the horns were soloing, then were given ample time and space to build their own worlds when they were free to solo at the back-end of the tune. Thwaite’s solos were always engrossing. He never attempts to dazzle the audience with explosive drum riffs, but builds coherence by developing rhythmical motifs.

Coventry’s bass sounded warm and provided an ideal underpinning for McGann and Zeylmans. When Thwaite was soloing, Coventry’s soft and spacious basso continuos were subtle and intriguing. Like Thwaite, his solos sought to build and develop rhythmic motifs, rather than endlessly running up and down scales.

Other songs played on the night were St Thomas, Softly and other Latin tunes. I left before the third set, when the chatter dies down and the musicians have warmed up. I was told by a reliable source that it only got better, but I’d already left as a satisfied and fulfilled listener.

To the Harbour, Darling?

So it was, Megan and I set off for a night in Sydney and a few hours at the Darling Harbour Jazz & Blues Festival. It’s now a Jazz & Blues festival, but it was mostly jazz I heard on Sunday. In this current incarnation, it’s a big, commercial event, so there was a good sprinkling of pop, funk and the like for the punters. Not the intensity and mix of a local festival (like Merimbula which was on over the same weekend), but worthy none-the-less. It’s not Canberra jazz, although there was a Canberra contingent present. Here’s a quick summary of what I heard.

The Con (Sydney Conservatorium) Jazz Orchestra was the first event I attended. It was on the Tumbalong Park stage. This was the biggest and most impressive stage – glorious lighting, fabulous line arrays and masses of power for a crystal clear, punchy, full range, processed and polished sound. Sadly, it was a hindrance to other, smaller stages at times due to the sheer power and spread of the sound, but nice while you’re experiencing it.

The Con band was really impressive. A proudly sharp, tight performance on challenging charts. Tunes included A child is born, Nica’s dream and lesser known big band charts. It was hard to determine who was soloing at times, as the players didn’t stand for solos. The solos weren’t all blow-outs, but the ensemble playing was superb: excellent intonation and articulation. Great show. Loved it. Probably my favourite from what I saw.

I just caught a few minutes of Catherine Hunter with the Bobby Gebert Trio. Catherine Hunter (vocals), Bobby Gebert (piano), Brendan Clarke (bass) and James Hauptman (drums). Not enough to really comment, and only a few bars of Catherine, but these are capable players. Of course, these are part of the Sydney ex-Canberra contingent: all but BG studied in Canberra.

I just passed another stage with the Elizabeth Curthew Quartet, but again no comments. She was singing Without love… as I passed by. Gary Holgate was on bass.

I’d seen Eon Beats Project several years before at another DHJF, and was blown out. EBP was then sax, piano, drums, turntable (?), as I remember. No bass. Fabulous, heavy grooves with a distinctive modern sound. This time, they played a set of pretty standard but capable funk/reggae, and with a more common lineup: Rick Robertson (tenor sax), Phil Slater (trumpet), Jonathon Pease (guitar), Gerard Masters (keyboards), Alex Hamilton (electric bass), Ian Mussington (drums) and Evelyn Duprai (vocals). It was a popular set and showed jazz influences from the excellent players. I loved Gerard Masters on piano, organ and clavinet sounds. Phil Slater and Rick Robertson both played great solos, and Alex Hamilton laid down a solid, great sounding and ever-present bass line on a Fender Jazz, with some lovely slight chordal fills. Evelyn Duprai had a great, black, bluesy voice, which suited perfectly and I loved it. The vocals will give you an idea of the style: “You don’t know what you’re gonna do / you don’t know what you gonna say / you’re wondering how you’ll make it through / I’ve got some questions here today“. Hmm … but then jazz isn’t too highly regarded for its poetry, either. Quality funk with some reggae; original tunes; nice playing; eminently sellable.

I caught two tunes by the Bernie McGann Quartet. Bernie McGann (alto sax), Warwick Alder (trumpet), Ben Waples (bass), James Waples (drums). This was typical, quality BM. I heard them play Spirit song and Dexter Gordon’s Fried bananas. Bernie played his typical little impassioned, falling lines. Warwick Alder dissected the tune with post-bop improvisations and some tortured trumpet notes. This is true commitment to the form: tasty, tuneful and without hype.

I heard even less of the Jackie Orszaczky Band with Tina Harrod, and thinking back, I regret it. Again, this is not a jazz band in the standard tradition, but it is informed by the style. It’s more a pop-funk band of considerable style, but also with a unique twist: two basses. JO (bass and leader) sits and plays a front line role, somewhat like a guitar, and actually with a tone also somewhat like a guitar: trebly, crisp, chordal, soloistic and essentially cool and relaxed. In back was Alex Hamilton (bass) who had previously played with Eon Beats Project, doing a similar, fat, funky style. Interesting stuff. The rest of the band was Tina Harrod (vocals) and two other female singers, trombone, tenor sax, keyboards and drums.

I was intrigued by the concept of the next act, so I left JO early. Perhaps I should have stayed. They were Back on the Block, a Quincy Jones tribute. This was a big and superbly professional set of players on the big Tumbalong stage, with sound to match the reputation of Quincy Jones. But it was essentially a superior pop set and I left after a few tunes. Not to put them down – they were very, very good and proved it with an excellent, driven, distorted rock guitar solo as I was leaving – but not what I was there for, so I departed.

I dropped in on the Eamon Dilworth Ensemble. They were bravely playing away, against a massive barrage of sound which was spilling over from the Quincy Jones show. It must have been a challenge, but I guess it was OK when they actually got playing. EDQ was Eamon Dilworth (trumpet, flugelhorn), Jeremy Rose (alto sax), Rob Turner (drums) and Alex Boneham (bass). I particularly liked Jeremy Rose and his calm presence and investigative alto solos.

Next I caught a blast from the past: Crossfire. I remember Crossfire as a very popular touring fusion band in the late-70s. I didn’t remember that they had recorded with Michael Franks, and played with Lee Ritenour and other big names on the Californian scene in their prime. They are now grey haired, with glasses and the like, and have reformed to revisit former glory. And they were still very good. Sharp, interesting playing and original tunes. Worth catching if they visit or when they return to the Basement. The original band members, Jim Kelly (guitar), Tony Buchanan (saxes), Ian Bloxsom (percussion) and Greg Lyon (electric bass), are joined by new members Steve Russell (keyboards) and Scott Hills (drums).

The last gig I caught was the US Navy Seventh Fleet Big Band. I was hanging out to hear a quality American outfit after this Australian music. They were great, as I expected, but nothing to embarrass our locals. Their ensemble playing was sharp and accurate. Some very fast unison sax passages got away from them, but then they were ridiculously difficult, so no shame there, and there were some other unison lines with bass and all the players which came off wonderfully. The solos didn’t particularly knock me out, but they did a great range of styles, with and without singers, and went down really well. There were several modern instrumental big band charts, which were my favourites. But they also did Sinatra with a male singer, Basie/Shuur with a female singer, Glen Miller’s In the mood and the Beatle’s Norwegian Wood, so this was a stylistically diverse set. And they did two songs with the featured jazz singer, Barbara Morrison, who was to feature at the festival later that day: My one and only love, and the blues classic, Everyday I have the blues. BM performed more as a blues than jazz singer for these two tunes: fairly straight with little improvisation, except a nice chromatic line at the end of My one and only love, but she sang with a satisfying, raunchy voice and a great stage presence which was perfectly suitable for this performance.

As for the sound at the event, it was very professional, as you would expect from such a big, commercial gig. On the Tumbalong Stage, the mixing was generally right for the jazz style, although the bass was sometimes unnaturally deep on double bass, rock-loud and overbearing on electric. The horn mix was blissful, with tinkling pianos and guitars and drums coming through fittingly. There was something wrong for the solo horns on the US Navy band – a thin, tin-whistle alto sax tone, and similarly thin tenor – and I heard a buzz in one bass bin on the first day, but otherwise the sound was great. As for the other stages, they were similarly well provided. I was amused by a strong echo on Evelyn Duprai’s mic, but maybe that’s what the band wanted. As mentioned above, there were problems with sound carrying between stages, and John Shand complained about this in his SMH review (“Enough sizzling grooves to warm the brave” / John Shand, in Sydney Morning Herald, 11 June 2007, p. 13). I especially felt sorry for the Eamon Dilworth Ensemble who bravely played on despite a massive background spill from the Quincy Jones tribute band.

But the rain held off while I was there, and I had a good time, and caught up with some bands I’d been wanting to hear for some time. So despite the commercial cum popular bias of the event, it was well worth the trip.

More DH Jazz Fest pics from CJ's men in Sydney

Darling Harbour Jazz & Blues Festival website

Jazz Rocks

I recently caught some of the Canberra contingent in Sydney at a daytime performance at The Rocks. Carl Dewhurst (guitar) and Brendan Clarke (bass), both products of the Canberra Jazz School, were playing with Bernie McGann (alto sax) and Susan Gai Dowling (vocals). It was a freebie performance in Rocks Square, presumably for the Festival of Sydney. It was easy-going music for the tourist masses (including me) on a lazy Sunday afternoon, but there was plenty of talent on show and it was always interesting.

Carl was playing with a lovely semi-acoustic tone. These were clear unadorned solos with chordal sequences, long controlled and sometimes geometric or patterned lines, and occasional lapses into dissonance. It was masterly playing, and it was recognised by the audience. Bernie was always his expressive self, with never an unnecessary note. Above all, I find his playing honest, at times simple and melodic, and at other times contorted and challenging, but always true and investigatory. I guess this comes with such maturity. Brendan laid down as solid a rhythm as you could have dreamt of, and soloed freely and intently. This was a band without a drummer, but the beat was so, so strong. Brendan, sometimes assisted by Bernie tapping on his horn, was always rock solid. No hesitation here. Susan Gai Dowling was new to me, although I’ve heard her on CD. She had a strong voice, occasionally overpowering the others through the PA, but great control, clear and emotionally appropriate renditions (as befits a Sunday afternoon, of course), some very nice reworkings of melodies, and an easy stage patter.

They played a repertoire of swing and latin, eg, Just in time, Lover man, Yesterdays, Serenata, Cottontail. The format was also pretty standard: vocals, solos for each instrument then vocals to end. But it was well played, relaxed and precise, and probing at times. It was a relaxing but classy afternoon interlude.

To end, there’s an amusing story. It was spitting lightly when Susan GD announced the band, so she introduced them as “The Rainmakers”, saying it always rained when they played in the Rocks. Within a few hours it was pouring in Sydney city, so maybe this band does good for the parched environment as well as the soul and the intellect.

Bernie McGann plays Hippo

Bernie McGann is a legend of Australian modern jazz, and his performance at Hippo’s was confirmation, if confirmation was needed. Bernie is now aged 69. His experience and history was evident in the honesty of his playing, and in the individuality of his style. His style is very much his own. He gets a mention in Stuart Nicholson’s excellent recent book on modern jazz, Is Jazz Dead?: (Or Has It Moved to a New Address), in a discussion of styles of music being different in different countries. He was given as an example of an Australian sound in jazz, that he was dry like the Australian bush (or something similar)**. I mentioned this to Bernie, and also to a few other musos on the night, and they could see the fit. Bernie seemed to take it as inevitable, given he is Australian. Others commented how unique his sound and style are. One sax player described his playing as like his voice: beyond thought of chord and structures; always responding to the other musicians; intimate and immediate like singing.

His alto has a sinuous quality: twisting, fluid. He plays with seemingly indeterminate pitch and time, moving phrases over the beat structure, and bending notes at will. There are lots of long, multi-octave scales and arpeggios at different levels of dissonance and different substitutions. There were simple lines, perhaps repeated with changing discordance. Always with loose rhythm and pitch which makes everything a personal and intense statement, and always honest. He’d be playful, toying with the underlying structures, but there was always a connection to the underlying tune, and always an intense, ongoing rhythm. After the gig, he mentioned that he’d be happy to see people up dancing. It was a confirmation of the centrality of swing to his jazz; there was always this intense beat amongst all this exploration.

Bernie was accompanied by Eric Ajaye (bass) and Chris Thwaite (drums), Graham Monger (guitar) and Dirk Zeylmans (tenor sax). They all played well and were thoughtful in how they responded to Bernie. I expect his unique style makes for a demanding outing for his band. I’ve written on them all here; this report is one for Bernie.

The tunes were bop and standards: My little suede shoes, Scrapple from the apple, Body and soul, Tenor madness, Night and day, and the like. There was no chat with the audience. Despite plenty of informed listeners, it was a noisy, chatty environment, so perhaps it didn’t lend itself to stage patter. Just two sets of intense jazz interpretation with a long, intense history behind it. Great stuff.

Bernie McGann at Wikipedia

Geoff Page's biography of Bernie McGann

** "His sound reminds me very much of the Australian landscape. Dry and brittle and almost Coocoboro-like [sic. I guess the transcriber meant "Kookaburra-like". ed.] about the way he plays ... if Jan Garbarek is a fjord man, Bernie is the opposite of that, he is dry, witty". Paul Grabowski on Bernie McGann in Is jazz dead? : or has it moved to a new address / Stuart Nicholson. NY : Routledge, 2005, p.188.

Bernie McGann - guest review

Text by Gilles Rohan

Bernie McGann played at Geoff Page’s “Jazz in Concert at the Gods” on 2 May 2006.

Since I first saw Bernie McGann at “Morgan’s Feedwell” in Glebe, Sydney, over 20 years ago, he has mellowed yet retained the inventiveness and thoughtfulness that has made him stand out in the Australian and global jazz scenes. In those days the “freer” exuberance of a certain lineage was evident. Bernie would exhibit a musical vitality that would leave the average heavy wotsit rock band for dead despite the obvious aggro of unbridled decibels. I’ve seen him play a number of times since then and have never been disappointed.

On this night, as on others, in the intimate surroundings of the “Gods”, one had a very 50s to 60s ‘jazz club’ experience, without the smoke; I’m not referring to the preponderant age sample present – we get to see some more youthful types at the gigs – not just the musos!

Bernie, as usual, worked well with the other members of the band. There was Warwick Alder on trumpet, Lloyd Swanton on bass and the young Alex Masso on drums, replacing John Pochée who was unable to make it on the night.

Bernie manages to craft velvet to gutsy sounds that meld with the other players’ contributions in a frequently retiring manner. No shove it in your face arrogance here. He can still teach a few the value of vibrant yet unassuming performances. Sure, the years have softened the sharpest edges of his phrases, yet there are enough examples of the current variety to make it all very worthwhile.

Between the sets I had a brief chat with Bernie. I purchased a couple of his recent offerings: ‘Blues for Pablo too’ and ‘Live at Side on’– what can I say? Excellent.

He still seems very much “driven” by his music, and, when I asked him if he saw himself playing for some time yet, he answered along the lines of “what else is there?” Good question.

Thanks to Gilles Rohan for this review. It's the first guest review for CJ. We welcome others. I can't attend everything, so get in touch if you can help. Probably the easiest way to add your input is to email a Letter to the editor. See the CJ's Letters page for instructions.

Pic from this concert

Bernie McGann visits

Bernie McGann played for The Gods Cafe's jazz series on 2 May. I missed it so no review (reviews for canberrajazz.net are welcome - just email to Eric). Thanks to Alison Hastie for the pic above. It shows Bernie McGann with Lloyd Swanton. Also playing were Warwick Alder, trumpet, and Alec Musso who replaced John Pochée on drums.