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.

Other worldly

The Space Cadets played at Gods the other night. It’s a strong combination of youth and long experience, presenting very earthy music from post- and hard-bop into the 70s: loud and hot and richly improvised, but at times gentle or expressive. John Pochee, that long-renowned drummer, was perhaps responsible for that (this drum seat is not a back seat). It made it a memorable night of originals and a string of tunes from several greats.

They started with Pochee’s opener by Matthew Ottignon: a hard bop tune which was Blakey-esque in commitment and go-ahead blowing and good, solid volume. Then another Blakey reference in Good for the soul, by ex-jazz Messenger Don Harrison, that was considerably more circumscribed and simply melodic. Then a gentle piece called Constant stream by Roger Frampton, the musical genius who is so often resurrected by the Sydney jazz establishment. I remember seeing him on piano and soprano; the respect is obviously justified; he was a giant of that era of Australia jazz. Then Freddie Hubbard’s Happy time, and a wonderful, comprehensively exploratory take of an Ornette Coleman tune, Trigonomety, in which all the players weaved through melodies and grooves with clarity and intelligence and aural communion. The second set mostly comprised a suite of 4 pieces by Matthew Ottignon called Space which travelled nicely through a range of feels and emotions, then a light and pleasant last number by Christian McBride called In a hurry. Looking back, it was a very successful combination of tunes that took the audience through both entertaining and profound musics with jovial comments from John Pochee to meld it all together. Very nicely programmed, and an indication of the maturity and experience of the band leader.

More on youth and experience: this band had it all. On the experience side was John Pochee, a drummer with decades of history in Australian jazz behind him. His story about how he first heard Ornette Coleman said it all: he and mates had read about him, and he finally got a listen to the first LP of Ornette imported into Australia sometime in the early 60s (and the landlord turned off the power part way through). John’s power and commitment from the first beats and richly varying rhythms pushed the outfit from the top. Warwick Alder is a similarly experienced and respected player. His playing was clear with beautifully formed trumpet tone and often punctuated but sweet and clear lines. Matthew Ottignon played a responsive tenor to Warwick, much softer in impact and with a different, more flowing and extended melodic sense, but still forming nice harmonies and interesting parallel solos. Earlier on, Greg Coffin seemed to me fairly tonal and mainstream, but he let go into varied harmonies and dissonance in a far more modern style as the night went on. And Mark Harris, bassist with the band for a first gig, was wonderfully impressive. He used a softly rounded tone and deadened sustain to play some outstanding solos, constantly high into thumb positions, fast, intriguing: a masterful performance, doubly so given this was his first appearance with a band and it was playing rabidly improvised music like Ornette’s.

Just a last bit of humour from the show as memory of a hot and inventive night. Miro had apparently provided an urgent fix to Warwick’s trumpet. The result? A snippet of 60s pop-latin, and the comment: “What have you done to it, Miro?”. Brilliantly funny on the night.