Last minute wonders

There is so much on at the moment.  I arrived back after an orchestral practice and when I looked at the Smiths site, I realised The Subterraneans were half way through their first set.  I got in quickly and caught the second.   It had been yonks since I'd seen Steve Hunter and I can only gasp in awe at his solid, funky finger-style playing with death-defying speed and Jacoesque awareness on a JB or clone.  He was playing Smiths' Roland 60w cube which added a dirty edge to the louder notes that worked a treat.  In awe as always.  But I'm a bassist: not to say the others were shirking!  James Ryan is leader with deliciously effective and lyrical tenor solos and inviting stage presence; Michael Coggins on guitar was all manner of delays and effects and lovely, deceptively relaxed melodic solos; drummer Jack Powell was simple and rock steady which suited the band but seemed tame until his heavy/metal solos, all double kick pedal and the sharp, busy lines and heavy tones that go with it.  He got a few solos at the end and they were a blast.  The second set ran over, as they do, but still only four or five tunes, one by Steve and a final reggae in 7/4.  If there was a determinant of this band, it's probably the counts.  There was another 7/4; another 4-4-4-2 with fill or bridge of 4-4-4-4.  Perhaps more.  All from one or another of their albums over the 15 years of their existence.  And this was a tour and Steve said the frequent gigs help to be sharp.  They certainly were!  Tight as! Fast as! Unrelenting and exciting and infectious.  I guess it's jazz-rock or fusion even some metal, but so infectious.  Fabulous.

The Subterraneans are James Ryan (tenor), Steve Hunter (bass), Michael Coggins (guitar) and Jack Powell (drums).

Taking me back 1

First up for a long session at Smiths was the Subterraneans.  They took me back to previous gigs and that Jaco-esque bass playing of Steve Hunter, of course, which no e-bassist could sit still for, but also for that era of jazz rock that I remember, all rapid (and from lesser bands often vapid) soloing.  But this was not that.  This was an exciting, toe-tapping, unrelenting outing of intriguing music.  Yes, it was up-tempo and loud, but the melodies played with varied long intervals over chords with rhythmic plays and the meters were odd and changing and the drums were solid and driving and the bass all fluid and intense and the solos to die for.  We had two wind players up front, James Ryan (ex-Canberra School of Music in its Manuka days) and visiting Netherlander Jeroen Pec with a range of flutes and an array of effects and another ex-SOM student Michael Coggins on guitar using very restrained effects (except for some outer spacey sounds on a JP tune) and quick clear tones on a lovely period-looking Maton.  And Steve Hunter on JB with rosewood neck and Jack Powell, long haired and almost metallic on  what else but a black Pearl drum kit.  I chucked, as did JR to hear a fast string of kick hits: presumably he had a double headed beater behind the kick although I didn't notice it again.  But the mix of sharp, undiluted power from those drums and the swirling mix of blister-speed finger picking and damped notes and convoluted sixteenth-note grooves just set a fabulous scene for complex melody and outlandish soloing.  OK, so it was a style for the super chopped kids but it's a blast of joy and humour and chuckles when you hear it like this.  Remember your first listen to Jaco or Stanley or Chick?  Like that.  And they were late in a NSW tour so tight.  Eye opening and seemingly impossible, but it was there on stage at Smiths and I was floored.  Loved this one!  And glad I kept the tissue in my ears.

The Subterraneans played Smiths early one Saturday evening.  The band comprised vistor from the Netherlands, Jeroen Pek (flutes) with James Ryan (saxophones, flute), Michael Coggins (guitar), Steve Hunter (bass) and Jack Powell (drums).  PS. the pic does them no justice.

Boys>Men

Boys (and men) sometimes get bad press these days. As a father of two boys, now young men, I’ve enjoyed their boisterous and sometimes risky behaviour, their physicality and excitability, their directness and openness, and have been pleasantly surprised watching mothers supporting and understanding their boys. Now our boys are bringing girls into the house, and we much enjoy their different characteristics. And they are so different. I have to accept there’s some truth in the stereotypes, although they are gross generalisations and I remain unsure of the source: socialisation or genetics or a mix of both.

It was in these terms that I heard the Kim Lawson Trio with Steve Hunter and James Hauptmann. This is music that talks to the male experience: boisterous, fabulously energetic, highly skilled, outgoing and partygoing. But it’s also grown up, so the fast and furious is now well formed and informed with mature skills, the relationships are respectful even as the individuality of solos and fills are always ready to explode. I could do little but laugh as these guys went about their extroverted expression. This is jazz fusion, funky grooves, frightening rapidity, unbending application, take-no-prisoners excitement. As a bassist, I watched Steve, of course, with his rock-hard punchy tonality, busy 16-th note syncopation that never ever let off despite chordal colouring and devastating fills that dropped like hail in a storm. Then solos that might settle and search but always stated with extravagant virtuosity. If Steve was the busy midfielder who sets the team in motion, James was the left winger who plays the passes (excuse the soccer analogies, but this is a boys’ review, and it reminds me of my kids’ soccer games, of which there were many). James was busy but discretely grooving and always locked with Steve and his solos oozed with driving rhythms rather than staccato contrasts, although some bell-like tones stood out. Kim led with mostly tenor and occasional alto on heads that were devastating and often in unison with Steve, and solos that were nicely stated with some dissonance but I reckon he needed the power of a PA to exert their presence against Steve’s punch. But I’m a bassist so was all eyes and ears for Steve and was quite overwhelmed.

They played originals by Kim and Steve and James and Footprints and Visby by Dale Barlow. There were chops to burn (these guys were cooking) but the underlying structures were pretty straightforward. Think boutique beer rather than vintaged McLaren Vale. What a blast! Kim Lawson (tenor, alto saxes) led a trio with Steve Hunter (electric bass) and James Hauptmann (drums).

Translations

They were the Translators and they performed at the Gods the other night. It’s an apt name for an unusual mix of instruments that produces a very recognisable and attractive outcome. It’s seldom that I attend a band with electric mandolin, especially one that’s screaming like a Strat, or Spanish guitar played in classical cum Flamenco style, but that’s what was on stage, and it worked comfortably with the sixteenth note grooves from electric bass and the lively drumming. An unusual combination but still with affinities: with Jaco for those bass chords and funky grooves and exquisitely mellifluous bass melodies and with Al Di Meola and Paco De Lucia for those nylon strung Spanish guitar sounds. Even the mandolin had references. The fast lines, high pitches, sometimes screaming sounds with overdrive and echo sold it as an instrument with attitude, sounding eerily like studio-based indie guitar soundscapes.

The elder of the band was Steve Hunter. Steve’s a master electric bassist and wonderful to hear: a great, phat sound; rich and varied chords and fingerstyle sixteenth note funky accompaniment; sweet melodies and some devastatingly fast falling lines. Ben Hauptmann was on the electric mandolin: from sharp and thin mando lines to fast guitar-like solos to complex and richly effected soundscapes. Brother James Hauptmann was on drums: not showy, but strong with busy grooves that grew naturally to peaks with the solos. Damian Wright was the Spanish guitarist. The nylon sound is recognisable (you hear it often enough from players like John McLaughlin, perhaps played with a plectrum) but the style places the band outside the mainstream. This is thumb plucking, fingernail strums, fingerstyle chords. There was some jazz sensibility in the left hand, but the right was in another space altogether. Very capable and perfectly fitting to this context, but still quite unexpected.

The tunes were originals by various members: Flamenco influences, two chord funky solos, rapid unison melodies, unexpected and dramatic starts and stops. This was energetic and lively music, tons of runs, tons of cleverness and overt Latin passion. At one stage, Geoff Page mentioned that Steve was the bassist who convinced him of the authenticity of the electric bass. It’s easy to concur on Steve’s expertise and musicality, but this night was not just Steve. The performers presented an odd mix of instruments, and a style that we are aware of but that’s not common on the jazz scene in Australia. But it’s infectious and lively and I, for one, would easily hear more.

The Translators are Steve Hunter (electric bass), Ben Hauptmann (electric mandolin), Damian Wright (Spanish guitar) and James Hauptmann (drums).

Gone to ground

By Daniel Wild

With funky underpinnings, hard beats and soulful guitar, led by sax playing that used every register, the Subterraneans offer a fusion of styles that would not be out of place in front of 1500 people at WOMADelaide. Last night they entertained a fragmentary crowd at the Hippo Bar and surely deserved more listeners.

While it is expected that many people don’t arrive until the second set, it was not until the third that some “merry” stragglers boisterously reflected the intensity of the music with some flailing dancing. The second set was the fullest the venue got and no one was ever required to stand. When there’s only standing room jazz at the Hippo is really alive. Maybe everyone wanted to get up early for the Olympic torch relay.

The Subterraneans’ first set was the best as they made sure that first impressions last. James Ryan exchanged some atonal musings in rhythmic free form with Steve Hunter on bass by way of intro before the band launched into the full-blooded first tune, Portobello Blues.

Hunter puts his whole body into his playing: wrapped in a scarf to shield him from the onset of the Canberra winter, his dark and imposing electric bass swung with the momentum of his solid and inventive lines. He uses the full range and his solos sound like another seamless section of the music, rather than just a solo over accompaniment. Ryan and Flower added to this seamlessness by executing vamps that bolstered Hunter’s virtuosic playing.

There were elements of ska in this first piece, with chordal accompaniments solidly on the offbeat. Although one chord would be used for extended periods, the inventiveness of the soloing developed the thematic material of the head and intro. Both Ryan and Hunter showed their ability to play fast sixteenth note runs over quarter beats that were about 140bpm.

The second song continued the intense driving playing, with James Hauptmann on drums providing energetic straight-eights with furious hits on the snare that caused audience members to involuntarily blink. Along with his brother and sister, James studied at the Canberra Jazz School. He gets different sounds out of the steel rims of the drums by hitting them further up or down on the stick. The rims aren’t used solely for embellishment: at times they provide the actual beat. The force of his playing caused his bass drum to imperceptibly inch away due to the knocks it was taking, requiring Hauptmann to dexterously pull it back in between beats.

Apparently Aaron Flower prepared the second number over only two rehearsals. This should come as no surprise given his technical ability. He won the National Jazz Award for guitar at the Wangaratta Jazz Festival last year. He was also practising in between sets. His authoritative soloing interwove bluesy and chromatic jazz lines with punctuated power chords. Most noticeable is his ability to build a solo, starting with a few low key intervals expanded out to wavy melodic eighth notes. If he peaks early he pulls back and starts building again, unlike other players who just keep going or go off the boil. This gives his music greater narrative depth, meaning and refinement.

James Hauptmann did well to keep his rhythm during a 7/4 piece in the first set. I had several discussions as to the time-signature of this piece. CJ’s editor suggested it was 15/4 (8/4+7/4) against the head and 8x7/4+1x4/4 against the solos, but wasn’t too sure. The chord progression was built on minor third chords a minor third apart, giving a semblance of subterranean conspiracy.

The second set continued the frenetic pace of the first. First up was a piece called Rush. When one listener yelled out “Roxanne” (or perhaps “Roxette”: either way the chord and rhythmic progression was decidedly rock), James Ryan facetiously replied that that was for the third set. The pace slowed with the introspective Borders of Thought and the third set was decidedly more laid back. Perhaps fatigue, physical and mental, had taken its toll on the band. The sheer intensity was certainly demanding on the audience.

The best piece of the second set, and the climax of the gig, was a composition called Habitat. Drawing on a jungle setting, there were all the growls, cahoos and calls reminiscent of Dizzy Gillespie who made a Night in Tunisia the birth of modernism, only superseded by some efforts of Mingus’ big band. Hauptmann was in his element here with exuberant African patterns. Ryan imitated birds, elephants and other mysterious unidentified wildlife that conjured up the elusive closeness of being in the middle of a lively animal commune.

The final set settled into Weather Report beats and straighter playing. A sixteen bar blues with country/rock feel gave The Subterraneans a more straightforward template. Hauptmann’s drumming was still assertive and bold, while Hunter embellished his forthright bass with well-timed chords in the middle of the fret board.

This is the type of gig you tell your friends about (where were they?). It reaches the primal impulses inside (and out, if you’re inclined to tap your feet or nod your head, or can’t help yourself and have to get up and dance). If you’re a musician, you’ll be asking yourself why you can’t play like this and you’ll go home and practise. If you’re not a musician, you’ll be back for more, eager to contribute your “yeahs!” and “that’s great boys!” in between solos.

The Subterraneans were James Ryan (tenor sax), Aaron Flower (guitar), Steve Hunter (electric bass) and James Hauptmann (drums).

Spanish translation

It was a refreshingly different style of crossover that was presented by The Translators last night at Hippo, and perhaps apt following the weekend of the National Folk Festival. From my JazzGroove emails, it seems there’s a good deal of experimentation with different musical forms coming out of Sydney. Canberra seems to be relatively tame in this regard. I can guess two reasons for this. Firstly, our jazz players are mostly at the student level and are learning their trade; our best tend to leave for bigger smokes before they spread their exploratory wings. Secondly, when you’re in business and earning your crust, you are busy testing new ideas and sounds to see what sells, and that’s another prod for invention. Musical invention in Sydney features several Canberra names (Hauptmann, Undy, Clarke, Dewhurst, Ryan). It’s nice when those names come home for a family visit, as two of them did for the Translators gig.

The Translators had elements common to other jazz formats mixed with tonalities which were decided different. There was Steve’s virtuoso, Gatling, punchy, Pastorial electric bass. Steve’s a stunner with some blisteringly fast but clear fills and sustained 16th note finger play in the tradition of Jaco: world class and not one to miss. James accompanied him with strongly driving but unobtrussive drumming. His has a full and rolling drumming style, with solos which are comfortable within the groove while deceptively crossing rhythms and dissecting bars and beats. Joining this were the less common sounds: Damian’s flamenco guitar and Ben on mandolin. Mandolin? Well, it was perfectly satisfying mandolin for lovers of a hot guitar solos. Ben played plenty of very stylish guitar-like jazz solos but with the clipped, peaky sound of the mandolin. It was interesting and engaging, but also strangely comfortable for such an uncommon instrument . Damian’s guitar was much more diverse in style. He introduced several tunes with classic flamenco solos and flourishes, and his solos were similarly Spanish. Sadly, the finger picking and nylon-strung guitar didn’t cut through like the other instruments, so I missed detail in many of his solos, but my impression was of Al DiMeola with Paco Peña, or a jazzy take on Sky with John Williams.

The music was all original. Each of the members penned at least one tune performed on the night. It was all built on strong beats, and the powerful rhythm section made it incessantly danceable, so again I thought of the folk crowd which loves to dance. I counted several triple time rhythms, although there was also 4/4 and at least one 7/4 on the night. I wondered if it was the rhythm that had got to the couple who were sweatily pashing off in the front row for a full set, but perhaps it was just youthful lust.

Whatever, this was fascinating and refreshing and inventive. A very successful fusion of elements of flamenco, jazz and even rock. The name says it all: translation. Great stuff and recommended.

The Translators are Steve Hunter (electric bass), Ben Hauptmann (electric mandolin), Damian Wright (acoustic guitar), James Hauptmann (drums).

Tribute to Zawinul

Joe Zawinul’s death on 11 September 2007 ended an illustrious jazz career at the highest level, including, of course, co-leadership of that quintessential fusion band of the 70s, Weather Report. Adelaide had a Weather Report retrospective called “Cucumber Slumber” in October. Canberra had its last night when Carl Morgan led a superbly capable band to perform tunes from the Weather Report and Zawinul songbook, and one original. This was hot, powerful, loud music, with the excitement we expect from Pastorius, the beauty we expect from Shorter, and the orchestral richness of Zawinul himself.

Carl Morgan (guitar) brought Steve Hunter (electric bass) and James Hauptmann (drums) from Sydney to play with him and Ben Foster (keyboards). Ben got the job at late notice and did a wonderful job on an exacting task, although he admitted he’d like a masters thesis to really get to grips with Zawinul’s complexities. He was sometimes overshadowed by an insistent (and loud) rhythm section, but did a great job. It was truly bliss at times when Zawinul’s sweet synth melodies appeared from amongst the rhythm makers. Carl himself was in great form, and I was surprisingly satisfied by role as the band’s Wayne Shorter. His collection of pedals and a guitar on the edge provided a screaming sound that went well with his ecstatic solos, funky accompaniment, and saxual melodies. Steve was a shocker! His fretted 4-string bass was a powerhouse, a machine gun fusillade of notes in the style of Jaco. Jaco’s strength was always in rhythm and melody with simple harmony. Steve played this admirably, roaming at speed over the neck, and with deceptively gentle fingerwork producing a massively hard and powerful sound. This was overwhelming playing. James held the drums side of the percussion section with an everchanging wash of rhythmic patterns and occasional solos.

The tunes were mostly well-known ones from Weather Report (Palladium, Teen town, Black market, A remark you made), but there was one original from Steve Hunter’s new CD, and that classic Zawinul number from his time with Cannonball Adderley, Mercy mercy mercy.

I had a few thoughts as the night was ending. Firstly, I realised I was tapping my feet on the 1-3, and I wondered to what degree WR tunes provoked this, and whether it’s a defining aspect of jazz-rock/fusion (it probably is). Secondly, I remembered some of the extended single chord blows that were part of Weather Report’s repertoire, and that in the end left me a bit cold. But then I heard the summary call and response in repeated whole-notes that finishes Palladium. It was a great choice to end the night; Weather Report bliss returned and I ended the night beaming. Thanks to Carl and crew for a memorable review of a great and sadly missed artist.