Freedom in groove

My SoundOut this year was limited to the Sunday afternoon and a workshop. Five groups played: these two seemed to me to reference standard techniques a little more. I say that advisedly, a little more. These were still wildly atonal but notes were played on instruments. The first was loud and driving and outlandish and ridiculously exciting with high skill levels applied with rapacious excess. From the first notes, with little letup. I knew Paal from the workshop and he was driving and intent but still working around clearly underlying rhythms. I found myself tapping away to the strong but disguised grooves. Danish/Berliner bassist Adam was a force of nature, playing acoustic (other than a little condenser mic on a stand), high action with Spirocores, no pickup or amp, German bow intriguingly hanging from a hook on his belt (great idea!). Melbournite Ren Walters on pick and finger-picked guitar and Scott McConnachie on alto and sopranino sax. He did a great job, again wildly atonal but wonderfully formed phrasing and with a sopranino tone t die for, so rich and full. The second band was a mix of brass and deep strings. Johan Moir on bass and Judith Harmann on cello, variously playing open accompaniment or following leads from the brass and fascinating sparing trumpet pair of our local Miro and Austrian Franz Hautzinger. I reckon trumpet is by nature a melodic instrument and we got that here from both players, but also slathers and exclamations and counterpoints and flashes. A seriously interesting interplay from two expert trumpeters and a few very interesting sets.

Paal Nilssen-Love (drums), Adam Pultz-Melbye(bass), Ren Walters (guitar) and Scott McConnachie (alto, sopranino saxes) played a set at SoundOut 2018. So did Miroslav Bukovsky and Franz Hautzinger (trumpets) with Johan Moir (bass) and Judith Harmann (cello).

Bad mutha

Bad as good: demanding, intriguing, sometimes virtuosic, onerous on memory and a very big and satisfying performance from just 2 players. This is Mother Jack. MJ is the pop-experimental duo of Casey Moir and Johan Moir. The pair returns to Canberra every so often. Casey studied at the ANU School of Music in its best days and has family in Australia. Casey and Johan now live in Sweden. They occasionally join with Luke Sweeting and others to tour as Svelia, as international combination, in Australia or Europe or Scandinavia (Sveglia plays this Saturday night, 19 Dec, at Groove Warehouse - recommended). MJ played just a single set, but what a committed, unyielding, demanding set it was. MJ is centred on Casey's hugely adventurous voice and, I think, her compositions. Casey also fills with glockenspiel or drums and loops. Johan on essentially jazz or groove bass with octaver and more and some harmony or accompanying voice. This music has purpose: adamant and assertive lyrics telling true emotions and stories, expressed with the most searching of vocal effects. Time changes, repetition, insistence, loops, echo and a a richly processed sound from just 2 players. I'm fine is about how you answer that barren question with gritted teeth; So empty is of emotional bleakness; Everyone dies is, strangely, a reminder to live life to the full while you can; You just don't get me is a frustration; others are Problems and Talking and Lost. Homing birds was a thing of great beauty, with voice authentically mimicking cooing pigeons. The last tune was a driver contending that I cannot oblige (with some expectations of others). Serious stuff, worthy of the listen for both the poetry and the intriguing musicality. I melted to hear Casey form a pure chord with the looper, so clear, so choral. It's strange to be listening to clear and repetitive voices and look up to see no singer/s, just the machine repeating the human product. But all this is not easy: Casey mentioned how much she had to remember to play this music. No doubt; not much spontaneity possible here. There are touches of jazz and more, but indie has to describe it. More JJJ than JazzTrack but a stunner.

Mother Jack is Casey Moir (vocals, percussion, glockenspiel, electronics, loops) and Johan Moir (bass, effects). MJ performed at Smiths.

Canberra-Gothenburg connections

Casey mentioned that the band all had Canberra connections other than Johan. I wondered if being married to Casey was a Canberra connection (obviously it is!) but you can see Casey's point. Other than Johan, the band was locally trained. But they've toured in Europe and released a CD recorded live in Krakow and they are touring here and are about to go into the studio. I am impressed that such international collaborations happen, but they do and they are common enough.

This one is Australia/Sweden with the Moirs in Gothenburg. Some tone of Scandinavia comes through in Casey's voice. And what voice! Her control, invention, flexibility are breathtaking. There's immense movement, quietness and detail here, and all manner of vocal techniques are in use, breaths, tongue clicks, pops, shushs. Mostly wordlessly, soloistically, perhaps unison as melody with Reuben's trumpet, or bouncing off Aidan's drums. But this incarnation is structured around songs with words, all poetry written by Casey herself and put to music by Casey or Reuben or Luke or Johan. Words, of course, have shared meaning, so there were love songs and tragic songs and fun songs and more. But in her way, Casey melds and bends consonants and tones for musical effect, shushing a final s or tacking a final t, consistently in any one tune. These shaped words may be harder to catch, and the lines are rhythmically jagged, but there's seriousness in thought, here, not just in music. And what a responsive band this is. Casey gave some guidance, conducting some starts and stops, but these are independently capable musicians, each getting spots to highlight their parts. I mentioned the vocals/drums segment - a unique or very rare combination - and the unison trumpet/vocals, which was satisfying if not so rare. There was also a bass/vocals passage and frequent open spaces for individual instruments - piano, of course, but also bass and mixes of bass/trumpet and the like. Luke even donned a piano accordion for the final, jokey tune, and that fit neatly with the theme, musically folksy and ironic but with serious intent. The song was entitled No : "No there is nothing new in knowing nothing / like those who know nothing new". I can only agree. There are open, free feels here, bass noises and harmonics, free jazz and new techniques. There's tradition, too, as I caught hints of quotes from the repertoire, from experience rather than intent. Grooves to settle or dissolve; solo passages that are interrupted by frenzied fills; crescendoes that grow long and almost imperceptibly; then to fall or decay, ff to pp and perhaps breeze and quizzical, sparse piano chords. There was even an end with the guys chanting under Casey's much firmer voice. It's complex music, intriguing and rich with lots of openess and clean air. Canberra and Gothenburg can both probably lay claim to open space and clean air.

There's detail and complexity here and it places considerable demands on both performers and audience, but the room was entranced. Like travel, music like this broadens a stale mind. Obviously one for the arthouse and festivals, never the clubs. Svelia is the international collaboration of Casey Moir (vocals), Johan Moir (bass), Reuben Lewis (trumpet), Luke Sweeting (piano, piano accordion) and Aidan Lowe (drums).

Götenburg

I’ve been thinking of long nights and cold and aurorae recently, so it’s fortuitous that Johan and Casey Moir visited Canberra. Casey trained here at the Jazz School but graduated the year that CJ started, so this is her first appearance here. She’s since studied further in Götenburg, Sweden, and married her bassist husband Johan. It’s unusual music to my ears, but that says more about popular music in the English language than about this music. With the huge popularity and artistic integrity of Bjork, we have experienced some of this volcanic energy and diverse humour and dark introversion and stern vocal tones of these regions. Casey spoke with an Australian twang but sang with the distinct phonemes of the north. She told me she keeps her tongue forward, but that must be just the first step to these vowel tones and the skew of vocal but non-verbal tones. She also said she merges words into vocal sounds, and I‘d noticed that. Her improv was rich and explosive, running high to low in arpeggiated runs, merging with nonsense tones of clicks and pops and squeals and groans, low slow notes or rapid semiquaver tonguing. It’s not like anything I’d heard live. I toyed with this as scat for the new century. Certainly, it had scat’s virtuosity and musicality, but this had a richer tonal palette and was closer to underlying words. I revelled in it as stunning technique and expression. Casey also said she values words and would never discard them for tone alone. I understand: that is the meaning of song and I’ve talked of that here. Thinking back, I realise she also improvised on meaning, as she warped words, choosing some, repeating others, so the meanings mashed directly into emotions. Her original encore, Talking walls, was an example as she repeated and wrapped fears of identity “Who am I / Who are you / Who are we / Who am I / Who” into tonal and vocal improv. These words also point to Scandinavian darkness and its cultural effects. Casey is Australian, from sunny, outdoors, beachy climes and this is our international image, but I believe this song was written in Sweden. Johan volunteered there’s a lot of depression in Sweden. Maybe it’s hidden here – we are certainly hearing more about it these days – but I could believe it’s a thing of the dark.

But singing was only part of the show. Johan did a great job as accompanist. He mainly played bass and this was essentially acoustic, although he once looped a longish bass accompaniment through PA to support himself on trumpet and voice. Nice bass, too. Not showy, but a strong, earthy tone, simple chordal statements with subtle variations that sat nicely in groove and a few understated but lovely melodic solos. I noted how nicely the rhythms sat despite the unusual duo format. That’s important and they did it well. Luke Sweeting also sat in for two tunes and the sound got bigger and richer. I enjoyed the bigger format for its tonal richness and more expressive interactions, even if I’d loved the duo for its purity and daring. One other thing I noticed was the emotional honesty and daring of it all. They had started the gig with Ornette Coleman’s Lonely woman, and it was powerful and soul-baring. Then songs with titles like Crushing and Emptiness. Wins of gold and Love song and I love you, you love me were more cheery themes, but they were still intense. Time to sleep was a lullaby so was somewhat relenting. Kenny Wheeler’s Kind folk suggested happier thoughts, even if still voiced with unrelenting intensity.

I enjoyed the night and honoured the music, but it’s not one for a beachside Jazz Festival stage. This is intense and mercurial, richly tonal and heavily improvised. Don’t book them for your wedding but do hear them if you can. Casey Moir (vocals, percussion, kazoo, glockenspiel) performed with Johan Moir (bass, trumpet, vocals) and Luke Sweeting (piano) sat in for a few tunes.