Melody

We bassists have too little awareness of melody.  Even our awareness of chords is limited other than as movements and intervals, say, compared to a pianist who plays the colours.   It's understandable.  Our role is rhythm and we can play whole gigs with just a chord chart and it's common with many (primarily) single note instruments.  Nonetheless, melody and those chordal colours are central to well written music and Burt Bacharach is a key example in C20th popular music and I was astounded yet again at Smiths this night.  Greg Stott was leading a group playing the music of BB.  I was late, given some confusion over the starting time, but what I heard had me almost in tears.  Admittedly, it's music of my lifetime and that's of relevance, but the complexity and sheer inevitability of the tunes, their plays with time and abbreviated bars, their glorious unexpected colours and beautiful while self-evident melodies overwhelmed me.  The band was good too!  Great even.  Chris with a Beatle bass with pick and occasional finger style, thumping apt rhythms and grooves and plenty of expressive solos.  Nick a wonder on steady and determined beats that exploded with sharp fills.  Greg just shredding with his quick and neat guitar, and some delightful jazz solo takes on a few tunes.  El had a new 5-string e-violin that had me thinking viola until I heard of the low C string.  Her solos were expressive and right, but she stunned me with neat and glove-fitting fills, expertly played over Burt's captivating chords and melodies that just asked for such treatment in good hands.  And Liam who put the words, sometimes queried in our different world, of love and loss.  Anyone who had a heart had to be touched by his fluid jazz interpretations.  But the love, or the look of it, was filling the hearts at Smiths.  Not that it was a young crowd: this was of an era.  I mostly missed the first set, coming in on an instrumental Look of love (as I remember) then a break.  Then That's what friends are for, Wives and lovers, Alfie, Walk on by, Close to you, What the world needs now is love.  Just one of those would crown the work of virtually any songwriter.  Truly a master amongst  Lennon/McCartney, Dylan, Carole King, Joni Mitchell and the like.  But this was just some tunes.  I remember seeing Greg at the BB gig at the Royal Theatre here in Canberra in Oct 2015.  Just look at his playlist for that concert and fell the awe.  Given Burt's and the Greg's band, this was the concert I was most awaiting this year and I was not disappointed.

Greg Stott (guitar), Chris Pound (bass), Nick McBride (drums), Llewellyn Osborne (violin) and Liam Budge (vocals) performed music of Burt Bacharach at Smiths.

BB setlist Oct 2015

The unity of performance

Well, Liam Budge was not so uninfluenced by improvisation and instrumentalism, but it serves as a neat counterpoint to Tom and his mates the night before. Liam Budge returned to Canberra for a gig at Smiths. This was the complete performance, a merging of patter and songs and thoughts (thoughts of love or migration with a smattering of tongue in cheek standards), of instrumental heights through solos and the most exquisitely detailed and driving backing. I had been chatting to a jazz piano mate about his recent interests, how he'd returned to songwriting from improv (not denigrating either, but enjoying a change), how a beautiful melody denies embellishment, so I was thinking on these lines. But I was unprepared for the first notes, driving groove from the first dot, calm but pregnant with power, then a light intro voice line, then a song of love and ongoing growing power, then into a neat, quiet solo from Luke and everpresent insistent groove from Tim and Tom. I was floored from the first bars. The night went on like this, a complete performance. Luke playing quietly in the background, chatter from Liam, interesting tunes, some known, either Liam's earlier songs that we'd heard or standards or new songs previously unheard. Interestingly, and not surprisingly, the newer ones seemed less distilled, but that's the essence of new. Their time will come with time. This was not a long performance, but it was engrossing. A very different approach to performance. I forgot to mention Beryl, a continuing theme for the night, or the standards that did appear (old cuties Bye bye blackbird and Squeeze me don't tease me and an airy take on There will never be another you; and a Tom Waits cover). Or about each muso, but the performances were so gelled that it's hard to highlight anyone of them. All wonderful; all so nicely in synch. A complete package. And nice to be back at Smiths.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a quartet with Luke Sweeting (piano, Rhodes), Tom Botting (bass) and Tim Firth (drums) at Smiths.

Jazz diminuendo

Tate was playing in duo at Old Parliament House Cafe for their Sunday afternoon jazz. Turns out he was playing with Liam. This is Australia Day weekend and there's sound checks for the big concert tonight and visiting bikies and the Sovereignty sign is well attended. And cops, little parking, free entry to the Museum. I heard one set of Liam and Tate and this was intriguing, skilled stuff. Tate is skilled widely, but I particularly love his sense of the historical, the bass lines and especially the swing and the honky-tonk right hand and the eminently comfortable stride. It was electric piano, but the feel shone through. And Liam. He's back from a year in NYC including singing at Dizzy's, no less. He's the genuine article as a jazz singer, twisting lines, singing unwritten chord notes, playing liberally with time. He was a pleasure, as was the duo. Relaxed, skilled, clever, but subject to big PAs being tuned and divergent other noise. I increasingly think this is the way for jazz and likely for any form that requires commitment and time and intelligence. The quick, to build and to forget, is increasingly the object of our affection. It's the essence of celebrity. Except maybe for sport that still demands the chops. As I drove to this gig, I heard on ABC (RN? NewsRadio?) observations that sport remained one of few growth industries in Australia (except carbon, surveillance, detention, and the like, I guess). Certainly jazz in Canberra is shrunken. How long has this been going on? Think jazz school and despair. But for the moment we still have some remnants, Liam and Tate amongst them, and we can only enjoy it ... till they, too, leave.

Liam Budge (vocals) and Tate Sheridan (piano) played and afternoon gig at the Cafe in the Old Parliament House.

But in Canberra there's always the distraction of politics: not our politicians, but the politicians sent to us by the rest of Australia (Canberra is represented by just 4 Federal MPs - 2xReps, 2xSenate). The annual Behind the Lines exhibitions was on and I got some laughs on the way out. Just a few laughs. This is no time of joy. A few cartoons following the outpouring of emotion at Whitlam's death were telling. "Remember when politicians didn't just exist to meanly chip away at the nation? How remarkable having politicians that could lead and inspire and transform. To show us what was possible." (Thanks Gough / First dog on the Moon, in The Guardian, 21 Oct 2014). But I didn't get a good pic of that one. Here's one that tells a related message from a recent point of view: Open for Business / Andrew Weldon, in The Big Issue, 20 Oct 2014.

Behind the Lines 2014

Today's broad repertoire

Jef Neve started with the Beatle’s Blackbird. It’s a beautiful song and much loved but it’s not jazz. Or at least so say the jazz police. Herbie Hancock didn’t say it with his album New standard, but by then he’d been well written off over synthesizers and jazz rock. I’m not sure there’s much life in this argument anymore. We were talking of crossing genres and Jeff was saying that the new generation doesn’t even recognise them. Pop and jazz and classics are all intermingled on their mp3 players. Strength to that! I’m even learning of Radiohead (not that I can always count it).

Jef didn’t play Radiohead, but Blackbird was joined by a quirky collection. The uber-standard Lush life and a few originals (When spring begins, on longing for warmth after a damp Belgian winter, and Endless d.c., on constructing a good life) and Joni Mitchell’s A case of you and Kandalini. Also Goose – they are an electro-pop outfit from Belgium, apparently. Jef had written out a piece based on one of their their auto-arpeggiated tunes. It’s much more challenging when played manually but Jef had chops. He was playing solo, but this was a full and busy sound. I thought of Gershwin for a few tunes, with bass lines and long arpeggiated accompaniment and attractive melodies. But perhaps also Ravel or Rachmaninov with rolling busyness and melody passing between the hands, or even Liszt when there was some very busy right hand work. Someone else mentioned Brad Meldau. I got touches of all this at times. But amongst the busyness, I was most impressed by the clarity of melody, how lines would appear in one hand or another, clear, ringing, then pass elsewhere. Jef has a classical background; he’s recorded film music; he’s recorded with classical and jazz instruments and just as a piano/vocal duo. His recordings seem an eclectic mix. He’s even written a few piano concerti and recorded with the Belgian Philharmonic. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’d promote an inclusive view of music. I listened with closed eyes and the screeds of notes just dissolved into texture and presence (this was loud for a solo piano) and melodic movement. Mostly consonant, although just some colour from symmetical scales or leading notes or hanging chromatics. Jef had told me of recording standards with NYC singer, José James, so I was interested in his encore with our local, Liam Budge, on Don’t stand a ghost of a chance with you. Liam had had a lesson in the afternoon and this invite resulted. We know Liam as a committed and able singer with a future. But what beautiful and unstrained accompaniment we got from Jef. Perfectly balanced and delicate and responsive. A lesson in comping.

This was loud and forceful and busy solo piano playing, but always clear in melody and virtuosic in performance. This is not Jef’s first visit to Australia, so we can expect him some more. Catch him at Wangaratta or 505 or when he returns. Jef Neve (piano) played solo at Cnaberra Grammar School. Liam Budge (vocals) sat in for an encore.

This is CJBlog post no. 1,100

Back from the brink

I remember a concert of great sadness and desperation about this time last year, when anger and the sense of loss over the Music School was at its greatest. Wednesday’s Friends Fundraiser in the Band Room was refreshing and joyous and a significant return to form. The School is smaller and its hopes and possibilities are presumably reduced, but it survives and music continues. The concert featured Liam Budge and Tate Sheridan in the first half and the ANU Jazz Collective in the second.


Tate remains a student, but this duo is essentially from an earlier era of the school, but what a duo! Liam is craft and depth and involvement and the essence of a jazz singer. Tate’s richly varied in his piano playing, spelling out all manner of styles with a panoply of technical improvisation but always a clear relevance to the song. He listens well and doesn’t interfere. I enjoy posts from Tate on Facebook with pics of Elton John and John Lennon. He’s got a broad range of influences which he colours with jazz conception and this is a strong combination. I was also taken by a repertoire reaching back into jazz history. It’s the American songbook, but it has early components, too. Softly and Body & soul and Beginning to see the light, but also supremely cute oldies Love is just around the corner and Honeysuckle rose. This is a deeply satisfying duo.


The second half was the Jazz Collective, a modern and challenging jazz orchestra led by Miro and John Mackey and playing scores by Miro, students and others. After the changes of last year, I was despairing of hearing such sounds again in Canberra. Small bands are one thing, but getting together a large ensemble like this is a big challenge, so I was profoundly happy to hear this satisfying playing in a decent sounding room. They played Miro’s take on Stolen moments, then Miro’s fabulous For Woody, then a ballad called Song for laughter, a blues, a transcription by trumpeter Scott Temby and a seemingly unplanned take on John’s burner, Pantano Drive. Good to revisit John’s outstanding solos, and investigate the solo chops of all the others in the band, especially the fresh names. The big harmonised parts are luxurious and colourful and that’s the strength of such a band. What a joy to hear that again. There’s life in the old school yet. The ANU Jazz Collective are Tate Sheridan (piano), Jack Ray (guitar), Llewellyn (El) Osborne (violin), Mitchell Brandman (bass), Jonathan Harding-Clark (drums), Simeon Staker (percussion), Pat Langdon (trombone), Eddie Bernasconi (trumpet), Scott Temby (trumpet), Hugo Lee (alto sax), Calum Builder (soprano sax), Andrej Thompson (alto, baritone sax), Miroslav Bukovsky (flugelhorn, trumpet), and John Mackey (tenor sax).

Release

Liam Budge launched his CD last night. We were at the Abbey, with its earthy timber and imposing organ and arrayed PA and an impressive audience for a Sunday night. But still this was intimate.
Liam’s voice is plaintive and neatly controlled and often improvisational and here it was wonderfully close and present. The balance suited; voice and emotions and words matter here. The tense rhythm section under Liam was melodically restrained, but vehement like a compressed spring. This was powerful and emotive stuff, and it’s just the thing for a jazz vocalist. There’s been a reflowering of jazz vocalists in recent years, including several who are huge commercial successes. Most are female, but there are males too. The difficulty must be to retain authenticity in the commercial scene. Liam is certainly doing that. This is entertaining and intimate and thus sellable, but it’s more. There’s meaning is his words and originality in his arrangements and improvisations. He sang scat and it worked and not just as a period piece. This was effective, dissolving into echo and other effects – particularly impressive at a live concert. This was tradition and jazz chops but it was moulded with a Gen-Y ear. The tunes were a mix of originals and covers. The feels just sat ready to explode. I’m listening to his Bye bye blackbird on CD now. It’s a great song but not usually one for modern ears, but I’d heard it before at the Loft and it’s a killer. It sits, aroused but with a restrained surface, Chris’ bass holding things, Tim’s drums full of energy and sharps taps and rolls, Luke’s piano bouncy in chords and lithe in solos. This was the feel of the band. Not loud; controlled and careful but tense under the skin. This is black and white, film noir, suspense and longing. There will never be another you was similarly rearranged by Liam and Luke. Here’s it’s all medium-up swing and smooth trumpet but head and tailed with an accented, interrupted melody that retells the original then drops into a canny, hip vamp. These are common standards but manicured for an audience of lounge or tea room or grand stage. Liam’s intro to Stop this Trane was amusing. It’s his response to a John Mackey class in Giant steps and it’s well clear of Coltrane changes. Farewell was a slow ballad, bass solo, unison voice and flugelhorn; “we will begin, for you, to turn to”. San Diego serenade was a Tom Waits cover and an unexpected touch of light Californian rock with a pleasing jazz structure. Bettina was for his girlfriend, a ballad of touch and candlelight, intimate and quiet, accompanied by just bass and flugelhorn. They didn’t play This could be the start of something big, although it’s a jazz standard, but this concert may have been. Luke’s got amiability and feel and jazz chops and for singer’s it’s a world of opportunity. I’ll be watching and I’ve got a signed copy of his first CD. Break a leg, Liam. Liam Budge (vocals) led a band with Luke Sweeting (Rhodes, piano, organ), Ken Allars (trumpet), Chris Pound (bass) and Tim Firth (drums). Tom Sly (flugelhorn, trumpet) sat in for two songs.

We only caught two final songs from the opening act, Jess Pollard and Steve Barry. This is a Sydney pair, singer and keys, with some witty lyrics, curt phrasing and a delicious tremolo that wheedles its way into the high notes. Not enough to report on but I wish we’d heard more. Jess Pollard (vocals) paired with Steve Barry (Rhodes).

An autumn serenade

I was late, but it was a buzzing crowd at the CGS Gallery when I arrived during Liam Budge’s set break: confident, friendly and chatty. Somewhat like Liam himself.

Singers do have a way, they have a presence, and Liam has it strongly. He emotes every word, bending knees, moving about the stage with the rhythms, leading strongly as a front man and percussing in support with nonsense vocal sounds. There’s a lot of his mentor, Vince Jones, in his presentation, the overt emotion and the hands crossed behind his back. Not so much the politics. At least at this stage, his presence is more simply musical and, when he writes, more personally emotional. So he performed Bye bye blackbird, but richly rearranged by Luke Sweeting in 7/4, and Autumn serenade, again re-imagined. One original was of lost love, forever a topic of music and also of youth. But his covers weren’t just the old standards. There was a Tom Waits and also a funky George Michael in the mix. This was rich variety, of performers and styles and grooves and sounds. His basic support was a piano trio, Luke, Jordan, Henry, but he augmented that for various tunes with Joe on alto and/or Tom on trumpet. I melted with some of Luke’s solos, but that’s to be expected these days. He is immensely strong, varied in improv, easily consonant or otherwise, and the piano gives him the most orchestral of instruments to play with. Henry introduced one tune with an attractive solo of percussive gentility where I noticed the thuddy tones of a floor tom damped with jacket over skin that contrasted nicely with a mildly played but sharply tuned snare. Jordan took the opportunity of the Tom Waits tune to let go with a fluent bass solo, and we consoled each other later about the clumsiness of the lovely-sounding double bass against the fluency of the middly-toned but easily-spoken electric. Bass doublers have it tough. On another tune, I noticed some lovely unexpected harmonies from Tom on trumpet against Liam’s vocal lines, and lifting fills with Joe on alto. But the voice is closest to human expression in music, and Liam is an overt, emotional, attractive character on-stage and off. Male singers aren’t too common on the ground and Liam, with his presence and depth, has convinced me they have a place. This was a very nicely presented and emotionally rich performance form Liam and his capable offsiders.

I must also mention the venue. The Canberra Grammar School Gallery may be short on lighting but it’s a wonderfully comfortable and even indulgent space, with grand piano, nice wines on tap and art to peruse in the breaks. Currently on display is the Mortimore Prize touring exhibition of realist art works. It’s not a large exhibition, but there are some decent painting skills (and impressive prices) on display.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a band at the CGS Gallery with Luke Sweeting (piano), Jordan Tarento (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums) and Tom Sly (trumpet) and Joe McEvilly (alto) sitting in on various tunes.

Pollards or sands?

I didn’t expect to return so soon, but this week it was dinner at the Pantry and Liam Budge, Caleb Wearne and Andy Campbell were performing under the heavily pollarded planes. The Pantry is a busy hub in a strangely quiet lane at the moment. It’s obviously January in Canberra, with pollies out of town and bureaucrats at the coast: this particular lane can be a busy hive, but not these evenings. Liam’s is a brooding voice with a pensive presence, wallowing in mellow takes on the great ballads like Body and soul and Nightingale sang in Berkeley Square, so perfect for this setting. Andy and Caleb fitted with a stylish accompaniment: smooth, sleek, but also interesting with lyrical solos and clear, ringing tones. But it was not all ballads. They could also be livelier but still subtly swinging with Night and day, a bit tongue in cheek with Fly me to the moon (who could take that one seriously?), playful with the great witty standards like Ain’t misbehavin’ and Gee babe ain’t I good to you and my favourite of the night, Love for sale. This is the great standards repertoire done with the humour and style of the era they were written for: suitable accompaniment for some boutique beers and great local wines. The sand at the coast may be enticing but I prefer this.

Liam Budge (vocals), Caleb Wearne (bass) and Andy Campbell (guitar) performed at the Urban Pantry in Manuka.

Out and about

Just some pics of recent days. Firstly, an amusing bit of street art around the Jazz School. Then Gossips with Liam Budge. Leanne was getting over the flu and Liam happened to drop by, so we got him to sit in for a set. Good hard swings, some live transposition (good for the ear) and nice singing and scatting. Thanks to Liam. Lastly, one of 1927 Bar last Friday with host Leonardo.

Loft doubler

There were two acts at the last Loft session and quite different: Liam Budge with his intense and mellifluous vocals and a very comfy but inventive quartet, and Jono Lake playing a fusion of jazz and impressionism to launch his new solo piano CD. About as different as you could imagine, really.

First, Liam. From the first staccato notes of Squeeze me, his music was smooth and stylish. This characterisation can be deceptive because it’s seldom associated with depth in our too-commercial society, but this music was rich with invention and deep with feeling. Liam appeared in great style with a nonchalant but imposing presence. The band sat beautifully and appropriately behind him. The swings oozed groove: Luke’s piano sitting well behind the beat and Raf’s bass right over the top for a wave of swing that was ever breaking over the audience. Liam’s voice weaved through and toyed with the lines, delaying melody then breaking with quick passages, perhaps high whistles or dropping into scat. Luke’s solos moved within chords and through dissonances and Raf’s bass solos were long and lyrical and unforced, up the neck for extended thumb position lines then down with double stops. All the while with a steady, cool drum backing from Luke 2. Liam sang one original, a drifting 5/4 entitled Stop this train. Notable to me was the gentle and soulful version of Hendrix’ Little Wing (instantly recognised by a few of the older attendees) and a heavily insistent take on Bye bye blackbird in 7/4 (apparently thanks to Luke 1 for that one). He also did a take on Long ago and far away as a piano/vocal duo and an easy Tenor madness to finish up. It’s a nice throwaway that swung easily from the top. Max Williams sat in on tenor developing from easy hard-bop blues lines to rich substitutions. And Raf’s bass solo was a killer. This was a wonderfully entertaining and engrossing set (singers do that) and with some really satisfying depth to the playing.

Second, Jono Lake. From the irony of jazz lyrics to the intense solidity of grand piano and the emotional involvement of solo improvisation. Jono leads and composes for his wonderfully inventive Lakeside Circus and I’ve written about them here before. This is the composer as improviser. No doubt there is composition underlying these tunes, but the effect and immediacy of improvisation is laid bare here. The first tune was pensive and later Russian in scope and mood. The piano needed a good tuning, but the seriousness of it all was clear to hear. I expected similar for later tunes so I was surprised by what was a fairly pleasant tonal piece with straightforward interpretation for the second tune, although it, too, flirted with intensity. The third was more an impressionist solo hinting of occasional jazz syncopations. The fourth was similarly impressionistic but this time developing to a heavy, contorted stride. The final was open and thoughtful and filmic and started with something like a loose left hand ostinato but developing as mohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifre indeterminate. I lost myself in the solidity of a solo grand piano with the piercing probing of dissonant impressionism. This is compositional inquest as improvisational immediacy and I enjoyed it immensely.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a quartet with Luke Sweeting (piano), Rafael Jerjen (bass) and Luke Keanan-Brown (drums). Max Williams (tenor) sat in for two tunes. Jono Lake (piano) followed with a solo set to launch his new CD.

Cyberhalides

Rain, rain go away (but not forever)

Are tropical rains the idea of north? It was certainly wet and soggy at the Art School for this year’s ANU Summer Reception, but there was still a decent crowd for Idea of North performing a short set and the Liam Budge trio playing as support. I luxuriated in the lovely voices and the vibrant presence of the North. Changing front line singers with tasteful backing lines, grooving to steady vocal bass lines and occasional solos (this set had a vocal harmonica solo from tenor and a drum solo from bass). I wondered if the singers were SATB. They confirmed they are, but a jazz SATB is rather different from a classical choir of the same format. The bassist is the most different, taking on genuine double bass-type syncopations rather than low-pitch vocal harmonies, and sometime beatbox drums. And other players performing occasional “instrumental” solos, or at least the tenor did in this set. It seemed they all took time in the limelight, someone coming out front for each tune to feature as melody. There was a bit of friendly patter on stage, and constant movement for these front lines changes and a huddle between songs (I guess this was a pretty informal gig for them) and the grooving and moving that singers do when there’s a good beat going. And the beat was good. I really felt comfortable with the bass. Andrew is described as “bass / percussion” and he certainly carried the groove with aplomb. But then he’s been doing this for 17 years. They only sang one set, and I didn’t hear it all, but these were popular modern numbers done with great skill, great groove, wonderfully accurate voices and sharp arrangements. One tune was Aretha Franklin; another (with the harmonica solo) was Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t she lovely. Just fabulously classy vocals and great entertainment. Would love to have heard more.

I also caught Liam Budge fronting Caleb Wearne and Callum Stewart with nice vocal interpretations of the standards and a nod to his teacher, Vince Jones. But a university reception is mostly everything but the music. It’s chatting with friends, spotting the academic celebrities, battling for a bite, checking out the latest student art and enjoying free grog, so just few words on the music.

Idea of North are Sally Cameron (soprano), Naomi Crellin (alto), Nick Begbie (tenor) and Andrew Piper (bass, percussion). Liam Budge (vocals) sang with support of Caleb Wearne (bass) and Callum Stewart (piano).

Pilgrimages (Moruya 2010)

It must have been a weekend for pilgrimages. Obviously, the big one was for Mary McKillop at the Vatican, but for me it was my annual jaunt to the Moruya Jazz Festival. It’s usually a bright, sunny, warm outing, but this one started with unseasonably wet and cold weather. By the end, it was pleasant despite a gentle but cool breeze in the Monarch Beer Garden. The usual contingent from the ANU Jazz School was there, as well as lots of names that appear most years. (It’s not just a pilgrimage for me, it seems).

Eric Ajaye noted that this was the tenth straight year that the Commercial Ensemble played at Moruya. They were hot and one of the festival stars for me, but then I like the harmonies of a larger ensemble. It was a different band this year with Liam Budge out front with his youthful vigour and visage (and male voice) and searching approach to singing the melody, and the addition of percussion from Namchoon Kim, (who has studied in Cuba, no less) enlivened the tonality. Percussion is not a common instrument at the Jazz School. Eric Ajaye noted that many bands he’d played with in the US had percussion, and certainly it adds a patina to the sound and complexity to the rhythm that greatly enhances many musical outings, and it sat well with a funky outfit like the Commercials. They do a nice cover of Steely Dan’s Ricky don’t lose that number with constant changes of style, rock, swing in the B section. That was interesting. But my favourite was a deliciously intoned ballad which they played at the first performance only. The horn-line intonation was spot on, so this just sang, and amongst the other lively numbers, it was a big contrast. Beautiful.

The stars of the show (at least for the followers of more modern styles) are always the faculty of the jazz school. This year it was Mike Price, Eric Ajaye and Col Hoorweg performing as the longstanding Mike Price Trio. They performed fabulously smooth and rich treatments of a few standards. How interesting were these renditions: a listening audience in a dedicated but casual venue makes a big difference. They played two sets, and both were well attended and closely followed. I was particularly taken by Eric’s strong and determined fingerboard work and I’m perplexed at the moment by that stroking right hand action, but then I’m a bassist new to double. Miro’s band was in the program, but couldn’t make it one the day, so Luke Sweeting performed Miro’s sets with Eric Ajaye and Aidan Lowe, and with some students occasionally sitting in. I caught just a few tunes, but the uncanny ability of Luke to stray from the straight line was inspirational.

Another band that impressed and entertained was the little big band funk/reggae outfit called Mahooud. Lots of laughter and display and obvious joy on stage, and it was infectious for the audience. Rachel Lole led the band from the mic stand, interestingly with another female singer, Sophia Christoper. Six horns out front, and a strong rhythm section I particularly noticed Caleb Wearne, e-bassist (also appearing in another outfit on acoustic) who set down some eminently funky and solid rhythms on Cissy Strut and the like and guitarist Victor Rufus. There were screams of delight when funk turned to reggae at one stage, but the feature was the final polka-cum-klezma paean to drink, with indulgent lyrics and punctuated playing and starts and stops and Eurofolk changes of tempo. The band was loving it and so was the audience. This was a winner.

Otherwise, there was a font of interesting stuff. DJ Gosper with her entertaining professionalism, great voice and relaxed swing. Jan Preston with hard core boogie-woogie blues. Matt Thompson with his very cool accompaniment. Dirk, Graham and Lachlan presented their normal smooth, mellifluous sax-based performance as As Famous as the Moon. Liam Budge in his own band with emo presence and busily inventive vocals, and always a great collection of fellow travellers around him. Not sure with whom, but I remember guitarist Joe Panucci letting go with some extraverted, screaming, sweeping solos. The Recording Ensemble were more introspective and minimalist this year. The Ax Long Quintet presented some early Miles-cool playing. I was quite fascinated by some developing but intriguing soloing by Tom Fawcett. Peter Henderson’s Turner’s antidote was there as usual, playing Tom Scott and similar '70s funk. They obviously enjoy this outing. Kooky Fandango were playing their lighter funk style, sharp and practised, and with Cam Smith’s classically trained trumpet playing some very nice and authentic jazz solos. There was more, of course, some of which I saw, and some I missed, bands and even venues and they are obviously coloured by my mood and interests. After years of attending Moruya, it feels like a family affair with the assortment and affiliations and changes over the years as the kids grow up and leave home. Maybe family picnic fits better than pilgrimage.

And BTW, I was there with a new band, but I have indulged myself elsewhere about that.