And then the gig

First the workshop; then the performance. Again, I just heard of this days before. There was some confusion over location, but it was Smiths in the end. It sadly clashed with the Gods (never rains, but pours). But this was Greenwich Village's 55 Bar / Smalls come to Canberra. Not to be missed. The hottest Aussie players with Will Vinson. Who? Try this: James Muller, Sam Anning, Tim Firth. Suffice, to say, this was a lesson. We had to clear out after two sets for a sellout for the next band, a hillbilly duo. I felt for them. How could you possibly follow these guys? Just eight tunes over two sets. Mostly written by Will, but one by James and two standards. I was apprehensive when he introduced All the things you are (yawn). I shouldn't have been. This was a work of bending and contortion to match Houdini, but never without reason. I wondered about the time, but decided it was in ordinary four; just that the melody was twisted and delayed and bunched for a (sometimes barely) recognisable standard. This was something we all know and perhaps love; if you could parse and decode the twists. Something brilliant and alive from something otherwise sadly tame and ordinary. This is jazz at a peak. I drooled over the Tim's pin-sharp drumming that was a foil to enthuse Sam's insistent, syncopated, mobile bass lines. And the solos from each. It sounds tame, but even these guys do swapped eights. And that god, Muller. What to say of a blithering screed of crisp notes congealing into tonality. Stunning. And Will. He'd talked earlier in the day of playing fourth notes, of shorter phrases and listening, of creating melody. Either this was out the window (it wasn't) or he's developed this to such an extent it's a screed of notes but still enthralling. It was. Just a stunner. I'd hate to have been that band following on. You'd go home to bed, I reckon. But then I'm a jazzer and this is what I like and they weren't. A stunner.

Will Vinson (alto, soprano) led a quartet at Smiths with James Muller (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Tim Firth (drums).

Mother?ship

It was a small surprise when I looked at the stage and saw not one woman. The Jazzgroove Mothership Orchestra were playing at the Street Theatre. This was just the day after Michelle Payne won the Melbourne Cup so I guess I'm just a little more aware. There are women in jazz, great successes in Australia and internationally, but no women for this gig. Strange. I'm sure they be welcome: just an observation. This was a short concert of just one set, presumably a Canberra visit on the way back from Wangaratta and presumably playing the set they'd have done there. James Muller was up-front as feature performer and composer. He's a world shattering artist, so a huge pleasure to catch anytime. Next to him was Tom Botting, prizewinner in the this year's National Jazz Awards for Bass at Wang (3rd after 1 Sam Anning, 2 Alex Boneham). The main theme was compositions by James Muller arranged by Florian Ross or Dave Panici. The tunes were mostly strong, driving numbers: Kaboom, Piledriver, Mr Dodo. There was an "ear worm" that was just that by Florian Ross, nicely grooving with little features moving through piano, guitar and more. There was a dedication to Beethoven, now called Eindhoven, by James. This may have been the bass solo vehicle. There were several little features for drums. There were two Sydney Con students/graduates who were new or sitting in (alto and drums were introduced). Otherwise there were several familiar faces. But most importantly, there was the excitement of a fabulously precise, perfectly intoned horn section playing with intense dynamics and some seriously nice soloing over a capable and satisfying rhythm section. That's the pleasure of a large ensemble to me, the big, rich tonality and revealing harmonies. This band has it in spades after 4 albums and 12 years of performance and international collaborations. A huge pleasure.

Jazzgroove Mothership Orchestra featuring James Muller performed at the Street Theatre.

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.

A guitar band

Well, it’s a guitar band so you expect some volume and an excitable audience. We got both for James Muller at Smiths. I was not the only one who arrived early. This was James, our Aussie-International, playing with Alex Boneham and Ben Vanderwal. This is a hot trio and the room was well populated 30 minutes before start time. I arrived and they were doing a sound check, and it was loose but furious. It just got better through the night. This was the hottest chops played for fun and amusement and just a bit on edge. I noticed a few slips, inevitable with three guys going for it, and some chuckles and knowing smiles were proof. The solos passed around with some informality and they were all to die for. I was amused by the tune, Mitch, a dedication to Hendrix’ drummer, Mitch Mitchell, that started with a strangely heavy and simple beat from Ben with perfect blues guitar over, a veritable contemporary update on the best of Hendrix. And there was an authentic jazz ballad, Embraceable you, which was swung and felt a little out of place, but was a proof of the jazz heritage. James played guitar of the jazz greats, a work of stunning flexibility and interpretation. Jazz was quoted elsewhere, but with more an abandoned, rocky take. Diddums (yeah, I kid you not) was a take on Giant Steps (!) with the changes featuring in a solo in the middle, but flanked with a hot unison melody that responded to the original. Sonny Rollins’ Freedom suite First movement started the concert and it was demanding and forceful. Players at this level don’t seem to need much warm-up, but still they just got better as the night wore on. The final tune was another blues, hot and a throwaway with plenty of solos on show. James is a master. Mellifluous, inventive, fast, using mostly using pick and perhaps one finger and just occasionally fingerpicking. He had a collection of effects pedals, but nothing was flashy except the stunning playing. There was colour from the floor, but little more. Ben had the same subtle concern with tone. He’d continually change sticks or brushes or mallets, damp skins, even dull a cymbal with a clamp and he did it all amongst his urgent and wonderfully varied playing so no one missed a beat. Alex always works the strings but this was more so, hard and committed and fluent, playing the full range. I noticed lots of long paired seconds sequencing up and down the neck, jumps and thumbs and rock-infused even beats. I was close and could watch entranced at James’ fluency and inventiveness and the ease of it all. Guitar is not played hard; at this level (it should be so at any level, but often it’s not) it’s precise and controlled fingering and this was a lesson. Consonant or not, this was a display of craft at a stunning level. Firm, always fluent, occasionally fluffed because he was going for it and a bit under the weather. I tend to concentrate on one or a few players at a gig: those having a good day or with the most chops or authenticity, but I noticed I was entranced by each player as I concentrated on him. Guitar, bass, drums: all stunners. Get the drift? This was hot and I was not the only one impressed. A blow and a blowout. See them if you possibly can.

James Muller (guitar) led his trio with Alex Boneham (bass) and Ben Vanderwal (drums) at Smiths and it was a blast.

Yikes

They liked the venue. The Loft is small and oddly located in a medical centre, but Darren Sigesmund’s sextet, under the name of Strands, was smiling broadly by the end. The sound was good and the small venue was filled with a lively and informed student crowd and a various other agers so they could relax after lots of inter-gig travelling and get down to playing. Darren and his band are mostly from Canada, Toronto, and they’ve been touring through Japan, SE Asia, Australia (as far away as Perth), and will be carrying on to NZ on the way home. They’ve been picking up players in each country (here it was guitar master James Muller) and borrowing gear. Bassist Jim borrowed my bass, and we joked this was like a series of one night stands and how travelling with just a pocket-sized pre-amp (he was using a UK-made Headway EDB-1) is the dream of every double bassist. These were no slouchers – they were touring with grants from provincial governments – but they were just a bit under the weather when they started. It’s not easy to fly in, eat dinner, play a gig with a new instrument, repeat. But soon enough the playing was hot and relaxed and by the end of the night, the place was jumping, the solos were infectious, the rhythms were solid and busily syncopated and there were smiles all round.

James Muller had told Darren these were hard charts. He read some tortuous lines with surprising ease, but they were hard. There were lots of contorted unison and some parallel harmony melodies from voice and the front line instruments, Darren’s trombone and Luis’ alto sax, but also from James’ guitar and even Jim’s bass. I noticed how the colour and feel of these would change with different combinations - the alto would drop into counterpoint and solo against a melody, or both horns would dissolve into collective improvisation, or we’d get deep intent with four unison parts, or the tone would change with trom/voice unison or alto/voice. All this against vacillating counts that moved with rock solidity on drums and jazz flexibility on bass. I think it was only on one tune that I heard words from Venezuelan singer Eliana and this was for a ballad. Perhaps it was her Dance for Leila, written for her young daughter and an award winner at the Montreal Jazz Festival. The ballads were equally rich with compositional complexity. I think it was August ballad that had the repeating written bass line that spanned numerous measures. And as for the others, the title 7/8 yikes just says contortions. Their final tune, Little Mizoumi blues, doesn’t sound too complex, but only the solos had some relative simplicity. Otherwise, I loved the Ethan’s sharp hits and so-solid drumming in rock and latin and jazz styles and the easy syncopations and expressive solos on Jim’s bass that made the rhythm section. Also that rounded purity of Darren’s trom, the frequent divergent solos of Luis and the purity of the unison lines with Eliana’s wordless vocals that defined so many of the melodies. And of course James’ guitar was astounding as always. I was amused to see Luis smile congrats after one of James’ solos, and James returning with a (rare) “hah! faked-that” smile. I’ve felt the same thing, when you’re taking it out and it works pretty well, but of course, when James does it, it’s stratospheric.

This was a great night, skilled but also attractive and entertaining. I never saw Corea’s first Return to Forever with Flora Purim and Airto Moreira, but this had that lively and melodious presence and joyful Latin influences. I left in great cheer and so did the band. Strands Sextet was led by Darren Sigesmund (trombone) with Eliana Cuevas (vocals), Luis Denis (alto sax), James Muller (guitar), Jim Vivian (bass) and Ethan Ardelli (drums).

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.

Shared paths

My path to jazz was from Cream and Hendrix through Yes to the great jazz rockers, Mahavishnu and Weather Report and Return to Forever, then through Music to midnight to the jazz tradition. I’m not alone and it seems I share this background to some degree with Mark Isaacs. I heard his Resurgence Band at the Jazz School at the start of his current national tour and it stunned me. His words on the cover of Aurora, the album he’s touring, talk of this very history and how it deserves revisitation. You can hear it clearly in this music: the infectious melodies of Chick Corea; the supple grooves of Weather Report; the soaring guitar and unison lines of RTF; the contortions of Mahavishnu. These were obvious. The rock grooves and the chunky bass patterns were par for this course and wonderfully solid but responsive. Not a swing in sight. But there was a real richness of composition. It struck me just like when I heard Chick Corea playing No mystery recently at the Opera House. Long and contorted and deeply involving, fascinating and lyrical and with great detail. This is written music and it demands good readers given the complexity of melodies and the counterpoint exercised by the front line instruments. But there’s also a live component here, of composition or at least arrangement. I noticed Mark signalling bass to come in (yes, bass dropped out several times in this music and the effect rendered orchestra-like variation) and he was otherwise conducting crescendos and the like. Conducting and orchestration are attractive words here, because the classical/jazz crossover was particularly identifiable in this band. Most charts were more like complex lead sheets - charted melody and chords - but at least the piano chart for Will of the Wisp was fully charted dots that crossed clearly into classical detail. And the accompaniment that Mark laid down sounded of classical technique and harmonic conceptions: complex and rich, technically impressive and conceptually whole. And his solos were coloured and mobile and full handed and expansive over the keyboard and sounded to me of twentieth century classical styles, rather than single note jazz sax. He did one extended passage that was classical in form. This was mostly minimalist, but I heard tonal colours that I associate with Debussy, but I’m little educated in this. Mark suggested to students that they listen to William Walton and Khachaturian concertos. I spoke to him afterwards and he said classical people say he sounds like jazz, and jazz people say he sounds like classical. That sounds right. Whatever, it’s a wonderfully attractive but also musically satisfying crossover.

And what of this band! One passage had me thinking of James Muller as Aussie pub rock on harmonic steroids. Here he was playing rock grooves with distortion and sustain, shrieks wrenched from his guitar, blatant and prolific with long lines that reached to the guitar heavens. Mostly it was those same shredded lines but cleaner and always defined and uplifting and exciting. Always virtuosic. James is one of those players who grabs a band by its … well you know what I mean. Matt Keagan appears to me as more restrained and concerned with tonal purity. But he too let go with intense and busy harmonic washes with a free-jazz lack of restraint, on tenor but also on a soprano that sounded of the Kasbah. I just love Brett Hirst’s playing so no surprise how I found that. This was fat and funky and in some ways a departure from the jazz rock tradition, which is usually fast and furious on e-bass. Double bass is slower, but the tone was delightful and I preferred it, and the chunky grooves sat so well and were so well varied. His solos, too, were stunners and quite unique - probably because double bass isn’t the common instrument in this rocky context. They ventured over the neck with blues and other lines, but to me they were infused with groove more than melody. And Tim Firth was wonderful: open to all the surrounding performers, bouncing ideas with his sidemen and highlighting features in the charts with clarity while chopping up the groove with improv and doing all this at nicely controlled volume levels. Suffice to say I liked the band!

I’d heard this very combination once before at Wang and they were playing music that was very similar. I must have been concerted-out because I didn’t get it like http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifI did this night. This was my own history and maybe I’d dismissed it, as jazzers easily write off jazz-rock. Not this time. I thoroughly enjoyed this music and after this night and the recent Chick Corea/RTF concert I have a new respect for it. This is a classy jazz-rock fusion with lyricism and virtuosity and richly informed classical influences. Fabulous and even awe-inspiring. Mark Isaacs (piano, compositions) led his Resurgence Band with Matt Keegan (soprano, tenor saxes), James Muller (guitar), Brett Hirst (bass) and Tim Firth (drums). Carlo Aurango is touring as their sound man.

Cyberhalides pics

Smooth, somewhat shredded

It was the smoother end of jazz, the audience was mature, the forms less challenging. But Neilsen Gough and his band were swinging their butts off, the playing was fabulous and I had a great time. We can’t always be at the bleeding edge, and this was an eminently pleasant and stimulating way to relax and just plain enjoy an evening of music. The smooth scene is definitely a different scene. Neilsen and the boys were introduced as satisfyingly sexy for the women with an apology to the guys. I thought of latin lovers: the band wore nice suits, Neilsen had something like that presence and his songs of love and rejection were fitting. But his output was broader than that: other originals dealt with the father/son relationship and spirituality. As for non-originals, there were several go-ahead, comfy, rollicking swings (Let’s fall in love, Beautiful friendship, Two sleepy people), some ballads, arrangements of two classic if smoochy Beatles tunes (Blackbird, Michelle), and two unexpectedly earthy 12-bar blues. I’ve been hearing so much syncopation recently, that I’d forgotten the enjoyment of a good natured swing, so this was in part a renewal of faith in the mainstream.

But what made the night was the playing. These were quintessentially professional and competent working musicians: serious but playful, individual but observant. I noticed from the first bars of the night (Sinatra’s All or nothing at all) that this was a capable working band, with an storming rhythm section that started hot from the top. It’s a good feel when the band starts well warmed up. It’s indicative of regular performance and a good and professional gig. So Nick on drums was my first observation: loud and punchy and watching and responding to the others. Then Mark Harris on bass. He was a character, grinning and toying around and laying down wonderful swings and grooves. Although classically trained, he had an rough, inexact-looking technique (as many jazz players do), but he felt good and was a great, joyful presence. He even played some serious French bow passages, although I preferred his very capable pizzicato. The third member of the backline was guitarist James Muller. Everyone in Australian jazz knows of James as a highly respected player of clear international standing. Tonight he was playing a Telecaster, and his sound was more edgy than I’d heard. I’d never heard so much of him before. I’ve spoken on CJ of his short blissbomb solos that leave you aching for more. This night he played a broader role, reminiscent of piano, with chords and melodic fills melded together into a smooth but harmonically enriching whole. And solos that blazed with speed and interest over the extreme ranges of the instrument, with sweeps, bends, scales, arpeggios, odd rhythms, chords. Even two Chicago blues solos that were a compendium of blues guitar techniques. A great master. And then to Neilsen, leading this fine rhythm section. He was the last to the stage, singing with involvement and jazz fluency and musky male vocals. There were some strains for high notes, but it just added to the effect. There was a serious and anguished but endearing edge, and it must have had female hormones flowing. Then he’d pick up his trumpet for lovely neat melodies that spelt the chords with clarity, then falling into flourishes of fast scalar runs and mixed intervals. Neilsen inevitably gets compared to Vince Jones and Chet Baker and I did hear strains of Vince’s vocals at times, but he was quite different: more busy on both vocals and trumpet, with leanings more to bebop than cool.

A very different outing for me and one that Megan enjoyed. Smooth and mainstream, joyous and swinging, just plain great entertainment … and with some fabulous playing.

Neilsen Gough (vocals, trumpet) fronted a quartet with James Muller (guitar), Mark Harris (bass) and Nic Cecire (drums) at the Top of the Cross at the Canberra Southern Cross Club.