Gareth and the Demographix

Miro joked about the demographics when he introduced the tune, Old folks, at the Gods. There was a knowing chuckle that passed around the room as most people recognised themselves. Excepting Gareth. Bob made a few mentions of Gareth. This is bassist Gareth Hill, ex-Music School and CSO and now a successful player in the Melbourne scene. He was playing with Bob Sedergreen and Ted Vining in TV's trio and I've heard him with these players before. These are seniors of the artform but strong contenders still in the modern-mainstream scene. Gareth's long hair may contrast with some thinning in band and audience, but he joins in with verve and skills and some wonderfully busy and expressive solos. Bob, too. I call this mainstream because it's less dissonant, the tunes tend to American songbook more than jazz tunes (although they appear too) and there's a real melodic nature it all. Bob's a master of playing with these tunes, chordally but especially with his wonderful playfulness of twists and discoveries and quotes and even tones. One solo was scat pure and simple, from keys: never seen that before. No shortage of smiles. The music is a platform and he's diving with twists and turns but always with relevance if with wiggled paths. Great stuff. Ted lays down beats, divides the time. He soloed increasingly regularly into the second set, with cymbals and colour or toms and rhythm. The first set was the trio for Naima, Waltz for Debby, Secret love (bass laying down the A-section melody), a traddie, some originals and others. Then Miro sat in for the second set for Stella, Milestones (really nicely done and interesting, perhaps laying a query against my mainstream description), Old folks, Alone together, Footprints and a final blues. This was not all out and floating, but deeply capable and experienced. Mainstream as you like to hear it.

Ted Vining (drums) led a trio with Bob Sedergreen (piano) and Gareth Hill (bass) at the Gods. Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet) sat in for the second set.

Studio to stage

Blow sounded more like a recording than a live band. The horns merged into notes like brothers and the whole was unhurried, unfrantic, even though there was plenty of energy and action. Peter's sax had a tone that was full and he'd sit long on notes then respond with a simple line or a flourish, but never, ever out of place. His phrasing was a lesson in modernity. Ian's flugelhorn could blow like bop and it did sometimes, but it could also drop into rubato and verge on free. The era suited this, modern cum post-bop, some fairly obvious changes, some ostinato-based tunes, some standards of the era, You don't know what love is, Naima. I immensely enjoyed a Jobim tune, known as Double rainbow or Childrens' games or Chovendo na Roseira (it appears under all these names on YouTube). Also a final tune that was floored me with understated beauty, a floating rubato feel with closely felt melody played by the front line. I've never called anything spiritual here (too new age for me), but this was pretty darn close. The first set was more solid, post-bopish, ostinato bass; the second more open and perhaps adventurous. Their You don't know what love is started as a tenor ballad with a bridge of Coltrane swells, then moved to flugelhorn playing fleeting staccato against drums and piano. Bass entered and the band moved through various feels - swing, cacophony, rubato, double time swing, some latin comping and more - finally into a final piano solo of octaves and another cacophony. All right on the night, I expect. All very comfortable but musically daring. Ian explained he had played with James for 25 years, sleeping on floors, playing daily for hours. Ted and Bob had played together longer. Our Canberra intern, Gareth, is the newbie but was neat and evenly solid toned and often unobtrusive and modally exploratory in solos. Ted's drums were deceptive; open your eyes and they seem unspectacular; close them and they sometimes writhe, otherwise sit with intent. Bob's piano was probably the most bubbling, irrepressible instrument on the stage, not so much with comping, which was wonderfully rich in colour and modal movement, but more in solos or some single note backings that were as much concurrent soloing played busy and mobile. I liked this band. It's an era I love and I could close my eyes and it sat with studio-like discipline but also artistic intrigue. It takes years to sound this comfy. These guys had it.

Blow are a Melbourne institution. Ted Vining (drums) leads with Bob Sedergreen (piano), Peter Harper (tenor), Ian Dixon (flugelhorn) and Gareth Hill (bass).