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.

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).