Nick's nonet

I've been musing over why I like nonets or octets. When treated as an ensemble, these are little big bands, so why these rather than the larger formats? I've decided it's because the writing becomes so clear, the lines so crisp and the solo spots so integrated and unjarring. We were hearing each voice anyway, so when some just drop out for a different texture or a solo, there's less change, less loss, more continuity. I was not certain I could attend Nick Combe's Nonet concert at Street 3 but at the last minute, I could, and it was a thing of great pleasure. Nick is soon off to Melbourne (we've lost many recent graduates to Melbourne with smaller numbers to replace them) and he gathered his cohorts together for a recording of his charted works. We've been hearing Nick's charts over the years and this is a culmination album, using his frequent offsiders. It was a strong band and one that has a collective history even if it's somewhat spread to the winds these days. We were in the generous Street 3 space, the musicians all laid out on carpet and studio-miced, some seats and cushions for an intimate audience. The recording was just 7 tracks, but there's lots of work in these, in terms of composition and arrangements and elaborations. And interestingly, Nick has a story for each. These are not just abstract compositions, but they speak of loves and losses, buses and places and health and happiness. These are Nick's encounters or experiences so the tapestry of changes and repeats speak of real emotions. This feels real. Nicely played, too. These were solos for the studio, careful, not overextended, nicely detailed and developed.

The gig started with Love is a job from Hell. It's a work in 3 parts, starting with a slow bluesy feel in 6 with dissonance and some nifty baritone sax fills and a driving guitar solos and the tenor providing embellishments that paralleled the earlier bari lines and finishing with solo piano. Then Moira, a light 2-feel with a piano trio and brushes and swelling with horns and some lovely solos on trumpet and tenor. Then Once is enough, inspired by a TS Elliot fragment and featuring a melody that's fascinatingly spelt out on different instruments, over brushes in a count of 16, then into guitar/piano and a lush horn fill and slowly swung piano trio and what I heard as an islander melody. Then Centrelink Blues referring to queues and free money. Nick has a nice story here. Medium-up blues with spaces for solos and a beautifully unhurried and thoughtful trumpet solo. I was loving both trumpeters despite vastly different approaches. Then Shoosh, everything will be alright that tells of Nick as helpful ear with slow 4 and lovely horn swells. Then Louis' precious woman, dedicated to Louis Nowra, a complex number that speeds eventually to cacophony then instrument drop outs into solos and rim shots. And a final Lemon and honey, a quickish reggae that Nick had on his mind when sick in bed. I was struck with the understated but supremely self-assured trombone here. Then thanks and chatter. It was all more rich than I can recount here. This was a musical pleasure, but also a recording and I can only look forward to the release. Nick's developed some complex and satisfying charts and this is one memory that can be confirmed soon enough on release, probably early 2015. Buy it!

Nicholas Combe (baritone sax, composer, arranger) led his nonet in a live recording at Street 3. The band comprised Nick with Reuben Lewis (trumpet), Alex Raupach (trumpet), Tom Fell (tenor, alto sax), Valdis Thomann (trombone), Matt Lustri (guitar), Damien Slingsby (piano), Simon Milman (bass) and Aidan Lowe (drums).

Farewell

Simon Milman has hands in many pots. And it's not just that he's part of them. Someone mentioned to me at Simon's farewell event at Smith's that he will be missed, not just for his playing, but for his leadership. Simon's active; he creates things - music, combinations, events, lots of CDs - and these things range over a broad field. I've mostly caught him doing jazz things, in the jazz scene, but he's active with the Canberra Musicians Club, which is more indie and JJJ, in Afrobeat and Latin and more. I first caught him playing Ornette on acoustic bass guitar in a trio. His playing is well influenced by these sounds, so his standards take on a sophisticated, harmonically indistinct flavour. But he also plays I-V in its place, and there was a bit of apt simplicity in his playing with Nick Combe's Nonet at the farewell event. There was some of the free improv too, in a short appearance as Erebis ("Australia's number one [Japanese] free improvising Elvis"). He introduced Properties of two particles with a bowed first particle lasting 1m8s and a pizz second particle lasting 47s; micro, virtually subatomic. I missed a gig where Erebis performed macro, apparently playing an hour with Miro Bukovsky. FWIW, I preferred the second particle with some harmonic movement, but mainly diatonic with large intervals. Nice. Erebis was followed by obviously close friend Alice Cottee, voice and guitar on some interestingly constructed songs of passion and intriguingly revealing metaphors. She spoke of meetings of creatives and this fitted the part: both fascinating and, I can only guess, searingly honest. It's so often the woman with the guitar who does just this for personal matters. Then some jazz that's close to my heart: Nick Combe's nonet playing five of Nick's charts. Bluesy and Mingus-inspired; five horns out front for plenty of interesting solos and the interplay of solo and accompaniment and the enhanced richness of melodic statements. Quite blissful to my ears. They played a slower break-up song; a lighter 8-to-the-bar song of joy and running in parks; one of rolling arpeggios speaking to a poem by TS Elliot; a quieter one called Shoosh (perhaps Shh...); a final upstart blues stated last time around with charted dissonance. The solos were intelligent and searching throughout which is also a tribute to Nick's charts. Then another SM alter-ego: Coolio Desgracias appearing with Housemouse. Local rap in kimono: driving in Queanbeyan, jazz clap, local themes. Amusing, clever, rhythmically insinuating and neat with triplets, although this seemed a pretty casual performance for friends with a degree of laxity. Rap's somewhat a return to memorised epics, so it has unexpected traditional roots amongst its irony and quips. Much enjoyed. I didn't stay for the later DJ set. Simon will be much missed by wide span of the Canberra musical community but movement is life. Best of luck to Simon but he's a local, so he'll be seen again.

Simon Milman performed Erebis (bass). Alice Cottee performed solo (vocal, guitar). Nick Combe (baritone sax, compositions) led a nonet with Tom Fell (tenor), Josh Hart (trombone), Alex Raupach (trumpet), Eddie Bernasconi (trumpet), Matt Lustri (guitar), Damien Slingsby (piano), Simon Milman (bass) and Aidan Lowe (drums). Simon Milman (Coolio Desgracias) and Matt Lustri (Housemouse) rapped.

Decorative to decorous

It’s strange how things coincide, in this case, decorative arts and birds and the blues. We’d gone to the Canberra Museum & Gallery (CMAG) to see the exhibition “Australia Revealed : decorative arts from the Australiana Fund”. It’s a small but delightful exhibition of decorative arts that were purchased for use in four official residences: Admiralty House and Kirribili in Sydney and The Lodge and Government House in Canberra. These are formal residences, so doughty but quality works are expected. We got heavy cedar furniture from the nineteenth century and statues of heroes of whatever era and some nouveau curves and toby jugs and silver and more timber and china and some more modern pieces. The star of the show was Bertram Mckennal, but he always is the star with his lithe female nudes. It gets the guys in the gallery and the admiration of the women, too. This one was a small figure called Truth, but the woman looked all the world like McKennall’s Circe to me, except for her angel wings and pose. I was amused by several pieces of porcelain: a toby jug of sailors presumably arriving at Sydney Cove and some life-sized sulphur-crested cockies. The earlier works were heavy and dark and functional, but they, too, featured Australian fauna. We were interested to learn of a new piece of furniture - a cellarette, shaped like a sarcophagus - which just had to be for storing wines in the dark with some temperature control. What a heavy life they must have lived in our hot clime, given the dark furniture and heavy clothing. Just proof of the “mad dogs and Englishmen” thesis. It’s a small exhibit, but there are some interesting works of quality that inform our history. Much enjoyed.

Walking on through CMAG, we came across a dead parrot (you wouldn’t write of it!) attached to the name of Dr Leo Joseph and thus to the blues. Leo researches the evolution of Australian birds at CSIRO, but he also moonlights playing the blues. His band, Key Grip Full Strength, was playing at the Brassey that very afternoon. Leo plays solo or in a smaller outfit or with his band with the Gripping Stuff horn section as KG Full Strength. This is New Orleans swing: laid back; sharp guitar; passionate vocals; and good for a dance. It’s all blues and blues isn’t noted for its variety. I noticed some consecutive count-ins that were the same tempo, even if the groove was different. And the chords are just that, the blues: twelve bars with classic bass-lines. It’s a style and there’s a good degree of sameness about it, but it’s also invigourating, danceable, sometimes witty, and can be impassioned. The horns add punch and colour, but also a bit of jazz sensibility when they insinuate dissonance and cross-rhythmic flourishes amongst blues licks. Dave’s guitar is sharp and I noticed some nicely sophisticated intervallic touches. There’s banter from Leo and Mitch and vocals from Leo and Angela with her hefty alto voice. And the inevitable, classic pentatonic bass lines from Greg. Blues is like that. Human scale and unpretentious and great for some beers, or many.

Key Grip are Leo Joseph (piano, vocals), Angela Lount (vocals), Dave Blanken (guitar), Greg Moss (bass), Mitch Preston (drums) and the Gripping Stuff horn section are Nick Combe (tenor sax), Tye Langford (alto sax) and Tom Fell (baritone sax).

Australia revealed

What? Not hot?

Who says Canberra is not hot? The weather’s been record-breaking and there’s a smoke haze outside in the morning as I write this. I caught Cam and Courtney’s Brass Knuckle Brass Band last night and they were steaming from the first notes of the first tune.
I was surprised at just how comfy and ready they were for those first notes. It’s a good sign and I could feel the eagerness around the dance floor. These are all experienced and trained players and they’ve been playing around, including a recent little tour to Melbourne. It shows. This is lively, easy, solid music that’s funky and insinuating and danceable. It was infectious because the band was having a genuinely good time. And it was refreshing in tone, with its horns and pillowy sousa bass and sharp drums and vocals from Courtney and even Cam at times. I stayed for most, but retreated at the end of the set to rest my ears. But it’s a meat-market in Civic on the weekend with the women-who-can’t-walk and the daggie blokes and the accidental disco mix on the street. I prefer the relaxed cauldron of exotic and sober at the Phoenix despite the crush and noise. I expected to hear two other bands, Americans and Brisbanites, doing something related, but I was called back to our street with its own excitement and heat. I arrived to find police and fire brigades and a house lost to fire. This has been a week of heat. Friends out of Yass fearing bushfires; a lost house in our street; the carnal heat of a Canberra summer night. It all feels like an end-of-time experience, but of course it isn’t. Even climate change isn’t threatening an end-of-time; just of civilisation as we know it.

Brass Knuckle Brass Band were Courtney Stark (vocals), Cameron Smith (trumpet, vocals),Tim Bowyer (trumpet), Michael Bailey (trombone), Sophie Chapman (trombone), David Abkiewicz (sousaphone), Nick Combe (baritone sax) and Robert Nesci (drums).

New Action

New Acton is often a place of edgy, civilised, arty action. Last Saturday it was Art, Not Apart. It amused me that it was described as Melbourne-like. Melbourne has such a reputation these days, and as far as I’ve seen it fits. But this is Canberra, with its intimate scale and all-ages familiarity. It’s an intelligent community, if staid, and this was a perfect, sunny day. I’d gone to check out the Afrobeats of some mates in Nyash; all jazz school trained. But there were dancers aplenty, arty markets, a short film festival, poets, graffiti walls, a range of musics and more. Nyash were great fun. How can you not groove to Afrobeat. I loved it; many danced to it; this was seriously good cheer. Just one set, of two Fela Kuti numbers, one from the Skatalites, an original, maybe another. I understood the style by seeing it live: two guitars, one strummed, one funky single note lines; busy, synocapted but constant and repeated bass; drums and cross-rhythmic percussion; some yelps and hollers; and that neat horn front line of trombone, bari and alto saxes. Lively, insistent, involving music. I’d just caught the end of Goji Berry Jam. Then there was Schwa. This was intriguing, experimental art: improvisations of double bass, chalk and dance. Chalk? Yes, chalk wall and pavement painting. All to Rohan Dasica’s improvised double bass on pizz and bow. I was not wholy convinced, but maybe that’s too much swing and melody in my mind. This was experimental. The rhythms were there but hardly grooving like the soul of Nigeria. This was not the only experimental music. A quintet taken from classical players of the Canberra Symphony Orchestra played an original set in a style something like Miles fusion accompanying a story of outback travel. I wasn’t too comfortable with this. They were certainly capable players, but it’s a different awareness from dots on pages, as were the electronics at their feet. And perhaps the words might have been more image-rich and poetic. But there was a poet, too. I heard CJ Bowerbird with several poems, and I enjoyed these immensely, even if I missed some lines. He used deceptively common language but there was musicality and also lighthearted but serious intent. Much enjoyed. Otherwise, there were scantily dressed, body-painted girls dancing (one of many sights for very many oggling cameras), markets, demos, sales, films. I saw my first 3D printer at a geek table. I drooled for crepes but forgot to return to eat some. I watched the community graphics and joined in for a short film but didn’t await the delayed start. I played with tuned bells. The sun was direct but the shadows were gentle. This was a lovely afternoon, for all ages and all indugences (and all photographers – have I ever seen so many in one place at one time?). Some oddities of contemporary arts and some inculcated grooves. Very cool.

Urban dictionary tells me that Nyash are female buttocks with personality. Its also a local Afrobeat band comprising Dan Kempers (drums), Rafael Florez (percussion), Simon Milman (bass), Jack Palmer (guitar), Matt Lustri (guitar), Sophie Chapman (trombone), Andrew Fedorivich (alto sax), Nick Combe (baritone sax). The event was Art, Not Apart. CJ Bowerbird poetised, Schwa improvised and an ensemble taken from the Canberra Symphony Orchestra memorised; Alison and Jamie were were colourised then mobilised; Goji Berry Jam extemporised. Schwa comprised Rohan Dasica (double bass) with Adelina Larsson (dance) and David Keany (chalk). Everyone photographed.

Transit lounge

Jazz-trained players don’t just play jazz. Jazz training is a catch-all for a range of syncopated, modern styles and the forefront of jazz has always been a sponge for influences. Last night, I caught Dub Dub Goose and Los Chavos. DDG is a dub/reggae band, and Los Chavos is a latin outfit. Both play insinuating styles that appeal broadly and get the dancers on the floor, and both are seeded with local jazz training.

Firstly, Dub Dub Goose. I hadn’t heard them since their first gig at Moruya a few years ago. The Goose is now much more developed, more purposeful and confident, and with a CD under its belt. The band has a firm lead from Beth Monzo, who plays guitar and sings out front. I presume she writes a good deal of the quirky, entertaining and (age-)relevant lyrics. The combination of a strident and uncompromising female voice, the vibrant horns and energy and good humour make this a thoroughly entertaining outfit.

I have also written here of Los Chavos, when they played at the launch of the Canberra Musicians Club. They were good then; they are now that much more alive and confident. Latin is perhaps the master beat of the rhythmic universe, so it’s no surprise to see the dancers pop up when they get going. Again, there’s a front line of horns, and inevitable percussion and interestingly a keytar (someone told me this is what this strange over-the-shoulder keyboard is called, as has been used by Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock and a string of boy bands). I expected simple melodic lines, but Alex Carder was playing some interesting chordal fills with bends, so the instrument defied my prejudices. Otherwise, I noticed the commitment and joy that Andy Jauregui sings with, and also drummer Amanda Waite. I was standing beside the stage when I was surprised by her competent introduction: clear and immediate, seeming to come from nowhere, and leading the band into an instant solid groove.

DDG and Los Chavos were playing at the Transit Bar. It’s quite different from most jazz venues, of course. These bars are more beer-spilled, younger places with pool tables, punchy PAs and DJs in the breaks that are louder than the bands. I liked it. I was there with my two sons, but I even came across an old mate from the Blues Club, obviously determined to grow old disgracefully. So should we all.

Dub Dub Goose were Beth Monzo (vocals, guitar), Nick Combe (bari sax), Reuben Lewis (cornet), Valdis Thoman (trombone), Matt Lustri (guitar), Ben Fowler (bass), Matt Sykes (drums). Los Chavos were Andy Jauregui (vocals), Valdis Thomann (trombone, vocals), Corey Booth (trumpet, vocals), Amanda Waite (drums), Simon Milman (bass), Alex Carder (keys), Matt Lustri (guitar).

Looking bigger still (Moruya 5)

Large ensembles are big, loud, complex and supremely satisfying. Every jazz nut loves great soloing, but large ensembles are perhaps my favourite. The interaction of parts, the harmonic movements, the diverse tonalities, the rhythmic intricacy, and the unification of all this, which is the composer’s chart.

The ANUSM brings all three of its large ensembles to Moruya. This year, I only caught two: the Commercial Band and the Recording Ensemble. It’s an ongoing game for me to pick a favourite as the bands play each gig, or changes their members or repertoire over time. I loved the hot and sticky Commercials, but the Recording Ensemble got my vote this year. Last year, it was the Commercials. No matter; they’re all fabulous in their own ways.

The Recording Ensemble set had a lovely edge of student humour which partly set it apart. Sebastian McIntosh entertained with droll introductions and Miro was like the proud father at the end congratulating the band for its creativity, but there was seriousness in the original compositions and the performances. It’s clear these guys are friends, and this shows in the music, not just in the repartee. No doubt there’s some competition, but there’s also support for well stated solos and well arranged parts. I remember Nick Combe’s impressive Mingus-influenced composition from last year. This year, Sebastian joked it was the “Nick Combe Show” after the set started with a run of tunes by Nick. He’s impressing as a strong composer/arranger. Somehow, performing on the baritone sax just seems to fit this mold. Other tunes were an arrangement of Monk by Kayla Corlis and Matt Sykes’ original composition, River. I also noticed the doubled-up rhythm section. Two guitarists are common enough, but not two drummers and two bassists. And these instruments (even Chris Pound on electric bass and Hannah James on acoustic bass) often enough played together. It lends another level of complexity, especially to rhythm, and an extended and unusual palette for visceral tunes like River.

The Commercials were fast and exciting and hot and sweaty as they should be. This is fun music and challenging charts, and it had the audience braying for more. There was one original here: the band started with Kayla Corlis’ 8 o’clock traffic (a constant source of amusement for bandmaster Eric Ajaye, who’s experienced traffic in LA as well as our rather less challenging peak hour traffic in Canberra). But mostly these are covers or purchased charts. They did their version of Prince’s Thieves in the temple, Marvin Gaye’s spine-tingling classic, What’s going on, and Jaco’s Chicken as their high-spirited departure tune. Great fun, hot chops, funky and loud, as this style should be.

There was more to the festival than just these bands. I also caught snippets of various other bands, and missed many others. Mike Hallam’s Hot Six and Waiting for Guinness and Syncopators were professional and entertaining and drew the crowds. Spicey Fruit Chutney was folkey and lively and were well received. I just missed or caught just a few bars of old friends Mother’s ruin, and Pierre Kammacher in various outfits and Kooky Fandango. I sadly missed offerings by Lilly Henderson and her dad’s annual funk outing, Turner’s antidote, and Austin Benjamin’s trio playing their own music, and James LeFevre’s latest outfit, and Jo Lloyd’s quintet. Also Moondance, for whom I almost filled in on bass, and who won the audience choice award. I would have liked to have heard All the things you would be if Sigmund Freud’s wife was your mother. With a name like that, it’d have to be suitably experimental. But you can’t catch everything, even at the smallish Moruya Festival, so I take the philosophical approach that I also use when I travel: you should always save something for your return. It’s a much more relaxed way to travel or to attend a festival.

Thanks to the Moruya Festival committee for a pleasant few days, great weather, beautiful local beaches, and the loan of your lovely, intimate town as the backdrop for the music. The 12th was another successful festival of jazz and a locum of musical companionship. Thanks from your mates from the moderately bigger smoke, Canberra. Looking forward to next year.