Nailing it

Jason Bruer's band is called Hammerhead and it's a driving hard bop outfit with three horns up front (tenor, alto, trumpet) and rhythm section. Mostly straightahead hard bop. At least one was more pensive, sustained, even relaxed, with circular breathing and another was a classical crossover in fugal form, the various instruments mirroring melody but displaced by time. But mostly it was honest, convincing, hard swinging, outgoing jazz. The horns up front were lovely, tuneful, together, energetic and interesting when they took their solos. The rhythm section was a blast, driving through at all times and happy to take their solos, too. Drummer Alex was the recent Wangaratta award winner for drums and got some regard for that. Very much jazz of the period and well deserved. Bassist Max is an old boy of the ANU and is playing a storm. Alone he could have anchored this band, so firmly swinging and fat sounding was he. His solos tended to slower and more thoughtful but they could let go, too. Gavin on piano was a pleasure, comping or headlining with power and energy. But energy was a feature all round. The horns were formidable together and intriguing apart. They changed just a little: alto to flute; tenor to soprano; trumpet to flugelhorn. All to be expected, but just a little surprising when it happened given it was none too common. But I particularly enjoyed Jason's soprano and Simon's flugel and the tone of flute fitted its more pensive context. But this was mostly a night of outright energy and exuberance and this band gave it. Two sets of five tunes then off for the drive back to Sydney. They nailed it.

Jason Bruer (tenor, soprano) led Hammerhead with Simon Ferenci (trumpet, flugelhorn), Andrew Robertson (alto, flute), Gavin Ahearn (piano), Max Alduca (bass) and Alex Hirlian (drums).

Old is new

Gavin Ahearn came to the Gods with his quintet of excellent Sydney players and it was energetic from the start. Just a little one bar piano intro by Gavin then into a solid latin rhythm then, within another few bars, harmonies between the two tenors (yes, two tenors, an unusual combination but with history: Geoff reminded us of Dexter Gordon and Johnny Griffin) and hard swinging rhythms and a muscular commitment and drive. The second tune was more Monk-like, swung and walked rather than a bop-latin. Both were originals, one by Gavin, another by a drummer colleague in NYC. I was enjoying the insistent and unyielding grooves and noticing the solo lines were not excessive, not too atonal, not too busy except for some longer fills that fitted with no jarring. But it was only when we hit tune 3, Little Leo, a ballad dedicated to a lost pet, that I noticed the power of melody here, the clear lyricism in this band. Karl and Jason would each hold back from too much extravagance, letting the flourishes come by themselves, looking for a line that worked, looking for internals and patterns. The melody sat with sparse tones, leading one to another, perhaps falling a little from one to another. This was Karl and he did it beautifully, then Jason came in with tight harmonies. All the time, Brendan was settled or driving, walking or syncopated or dotted rhythms as befits, and Toby also powered, moving through various patterns and rhythmic colours. Then some delightful solos from Brendan - he is playing so well these days - and later solos against riffs by Toby and throughout Gavin, comping chords or laying out his own solos. I noticed some intriguingly modulated piano at one stage, fairly subtle but modernising the sound and drive. Nice. Then more about pets and places. One about the polar vortex that hit northern US when Gavin was in NYC (Jan 2014?). A mention of I sing the body electric, a poem by Walt Whitman (borrowed for an early Weather Report album with Miroslav Vitous). Gavin wrote Nimbus (?) early career and it was a lovely, driving latin. Then more recent and more places: Ismir, an easier latin reminiscent of early morning arrival and sunrise, and Mt Wellington, floating and yearning for the cold misty weather on the summit. Solos were shared between tenors, topped and tailed by delightfully fat-toned harmonies. Dragon flight sounded to me to be angular hell to read, jumping around as the zigzag flight of fireflies over a relaxed swing and syncopated bridge. I'm noticing my foot tapping: 1-3 on latins; 2-4 on swings. Then a light six feel, but with a threat to lift. It did, for final solos and Toby drummed a final solo against busy piano chords and a rise-fall harmonised tenor line. This has the life and instrumentation of '50s hard-bop with a recent, filmic lyricism. Great stuff. Part of jazz's greatness is its respect for history without stultification. Old is new; we are products of history. Gavin and mates did this in spades and with panache.

Gavin Ahearn (piano) led his Quintet at the Gods with Karl Laskowski and Jason Bruer (tenors), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Toby Hall (drums).

Post-bop lives forever

Jason Bruer introduced his band, Hammerhead, saying "it's the music that turned us all on to jazz". They were playing hard bop, a tribute to Art Blakey and his Jazz Messengers, some originals in the style and with a format to suit, piano bass drums as rhythm section and a front line of three horns, trumpet tenor alto. It's somewhere near how I came to jazz (more closely, it was Dizzy and bop, ten years earlier) and it's a style I still love immensely and, from the reaction in the audience, is loved by many. This concert went down a treat. Lovely harmonies up front, big fat tones from the three horns; a driving, unyielding, regularity from the drums and deep groove from bass and some rich harmonic colour and intriguing rhythmic hits from the piano comping. They mostly played walking swing but there was funky fours and six feels and some lovely '70s modern jazz syncopation as well. The first set was all walking fours, at least in the solos. The heads could be sycopated. Wayne Shorter The Summit and later Hammerhead and Jason Bruer's homage, Wayne's world. Bobby Timmons' famous tune Moanin' worked so well with this combination. Then a bittingly fast head on Jason's Breaking bad. The second half had more modern feels, if still in the tradition. An Eddie Harris tune was funky and Joe Henderson Power to the people was a syncopated 8 feel. Pat Metheny Sometimes I see was a lovely ballad. Jason had two more originals. I loved Sixth sense, a 6/8 reminding me of my formative album, Norman Connors Love form the Sun. For Art's sake was another post-bop dedication and a finish on Cedar Walton Mosaic, an up-tempo post-bopper. This was manor from heaven for me and obviously many the in audience. This music is so approachable and attractive: individualist in solo; supportive in coming; satisfying in fat melodies. And the playing was a dream. Post-bop likes a simple, stated phrase for development. Ray was playful in this; Kim was rich and full (someone mentioned good lungs on young players); Jason was more obtuse and abstruse. Nice combination. Duncan on drums was absolutely steady, unwavering, not overly busy with embellishments. Brendan is an unstoppable force and proved it again in accompaniment, as well as laying some detailed and quick solos. Greg's comping was a dream, intriguing and coloured, both leading and responding, and solos were to match. He took one solo passage, unaccompanied, dismantling and reconsidering, before returning to top. Nicely done and quite a change. As my foot tapped and I thought of the variation on unyielding groove, I wondered if this was the dance music of its days. Great stuff and much enjoyed.

Hammerhead played at the Gods. They comprised Jason Bruer (tenor), Ray Cassar (trumpet), Kim Rawson (alto sax), Greg Coffin (piano), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Duncan Archibald (drums).