A treat on a cold Sunday arvo

The recording and an accompanying YouTube video feature John Patitucci, no less, but this performance left me feeling not the slightest bit harking for the big smoke of NYC. Matthew Sheens played with a quintet of Australian musicians to launch his new CD at Ainslie Arts Centre and it was a musical triumph. The compositions were fabulous, complex, purposeful things with twists and development and lovely interplays; frequently intense, sometimes even dark. The first tune spoke of a deceased friend and the second quoted the last poem of Auschwitz inmate; Names was a recitation and vocal layering of names of (some) blacks killed by US police over a few days of recording; another detailed the feeling of a lack of place as expressed in French. And, somewhat strangely, two dealt with clouds (Cloud Appreciation Society and Cumulo-numbus society). Amusingly, Matt told us of an actual Cloud Appreciation society attending the Melbourne concert. And, just one standard for history, Like someone in love. And the performance was stunning. Why would we think "just locals" when locals play like this. I've been listening to the Smalls video feed recently, and it's good to very good but seldom a match for this beautifully formed and developed and blended group. So tight, so powered when call for, or detailed and light when required, all dynamic and crisp and precise. Hugh's guitar solos were expressive blasts, not overly busy but sometimes quick, clear with an echo trail, speaking as the new wave of jazz guitars. Tim Firth was a stunner, not that I expect any less from him at any time; he's always so in touch and ready to drive at a moment's notice and sharp as a tack and he was all that to perfection this day. Lyndon's bass was firm and clear, sitting beautifully in the mix: earlier I thought understated, but there were some easy and wonderfully effective quick fills but the purpose and drive of the bass was never forgotten. Matt's piano was all harmonic richness that spelt out his compositions and led his band and fairly frequent solos alternating with Hugh. Gian, the true local, being a Canberra product, sang as words but also as tones, layering those names through a Boss RC-30 looper, singing pitched lines that not once spiraled into the stratosphere sounding every bit like a pure-toned analog synth. Massively effective. Not a long concert, at a strange time, being mid Canberra afternoon with a bitter cold outside. This concert was a stunner! To some degree any such statement is a personal preference, but I found this as good as it comes, for composition and for performance. A rare treat.

Matthew Sheens (piano, compositions) led his quintet to launch his new album, Cloud Appreciation Society, at Ainslie Arts Centre. The band comprised Matthew with Gian Slater (vocals), Hugh Stuckey (guitar), Lyndon Gray (bass) and Tim Firth (drums)

And then the gig

First the workshop; then the performance. Again, I just heard of this days before. There was some confusion over location, but it was Smiths in the end. It sadly clashed with the Gods (never rains, but pours). But this was Greenwich Village's 55 Bar / Smalls come to Canberra. Not to be missed. The hottest Aussie players with Will Vinson. Who? Try this: James Muller, Sam Anning, Tim Firth. Suffice, to say, this was a lesson. We had to clear out after two sets for a sellout for the next band, a hillbilly duo. I felt for them. How could you possibly follow these guys? Just eight tunes over two sets. Mostly written by Will, but one by James and two standards. I was apprehensive when he introduced All the things you are (yawn). I shouldn't have been. This was a work of bending and contortion to match Houdini, but never without reason. I wondered about the time, but decided it was in ordinary four; just that the melody was twisted and delayed and bunched for a (sometimes barely) recognisable standard. This was something we all know and perhaps love; if you could parse and decode the twists. Something brilliant and alive from something otherwise sadly tame and ordinary. This is jazz at a peak. I drooled over the Tim's pin-sharp drumming that was a foil to enthuse Sam's insistent, syncopated, mobile bass lines. And the solos from each. It sounds tame, but even these guys do swapped eights. And that god, Muller. What to say of a blithering screed of crisp notes congealing into tonality. Stunning. And Will. He'd talked earlier in the day of playing fourth notes, of shorter phrases and listening, of creating melody. Either this was out the window (it wasn't) or he's developed this to such an extent it's a screed of notes but still enthralling. It was. Just a stunner. I'd hate to have been that band following on. You'd go home to bed, I reckon. But then I'm a jazzer and this is what I like and they weren't. A stunner.

Will Vinson (alto, soprano) led a quartet at Smiths with James Muller (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Tim Firth (drums).

The unity of performance

Well, Liam Budge was not so uninfluenced by improvisation and instrumentalism, but it serves as a neat counterpoint to Tom and his mates the night before. Liam Budge returned to Canberra for a gig at Smiths. This was the complete performance, a merging of patter and songs and thoughts (thoughts of love or migration with a smattering of tongue in cheek standards), of instrumental heights through solos and the most exquisitely detailed and driving backing. I had been chatting to a jazz piano mate about his recent interests, how he'd returned to songwriting from improv (not denigrating either, but enjoying a change), how a beautiful melody denies embellishment, so I was thinking on these lines. But I was unprepared for the first notes, driving groove from the first dot, calm but pregnant with power, then a light intro voice line, then a song of love and ongoing growing power, then into a neat, quiet solo from Luke and everpresent insistent groove from Tim and Tom. I was floored from the first bars. The night went on like this, a complete performance. Luke playing quietly in the background, chatter from Liam, interesting tunes, some known, either Liam's earlier songs that we'd heard or standards or new songs previously unheard. Interestingly, and not surprisingly, the newer ones seemed less distilled, but that's the essence of new. Their time will come with time. This was not a long performance, but it was engrossing. A very different approach to performance. I forgot to mention Beryl, a continuing theme for the night, or the standards that did appear (old cuties Bye bye blackbird and Squeeze me don't tease me and an airy take on There will never be another you; and a Tom Waits cover). Or about each muso, but the performances were so gelled that it's hard to highlight anyone of them. All wonderful; all so nicely in synch. A complete package. And nice to be back at Smiths.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a quartet with Luke Sweeting (piano, Rhodes), Tom Botting (bass) and Tim Firth (drums) at Smiths.

Again so soon

Twice in one week ; another stunner although a very different concert. This was Steve Barry playing a trio set with Alex Boneham and Tim Firth. I heard this as contemporary original compositions and a few standards; long right hand solo lines from piano with sparse left hand chordings; richly effective syncopated feels from bass with exciting drums of flow and dynamics and gushing fills; several long and tortuous written heads played unison by piano and bass; dynamics that moved gradually to surprise with their intensity.
Steve had written one tune from two favourite standards, Conception and East of the Sun West of the Moon, and two tunes influenced by books, Plato's Republic and Kundera's Unbearable lightness of being. Joe Henderson's Inner urge was just a hard swing workout at considerable pace. More than you know was one standard more than I knew and they played it with slow, heavy, unrelenting walking eight-to-the-bar swing. The standard rewrite of Conception/East-West reimagined with a contemporary latin-ish bass. I asked the barrista how she found it. She was obviously not a jazz freak but she responded that she liked it, as she does all good music. I'm more one-eyed. This was a technical tour-de-force and I can't compare with contemporary indie or other, despite a good feel or intelligent lyrics. This was music pure and simple played with abounding skills. Twice in three nights; great! This trio is going in the studio later this month to record another album. It will clearly deserve a listen.

Steve Barry (piano) led a trio with Alex Boneham (busiest bass) and Tim Firth (drums) at Smiths.

Doyens

Jonathan Zwartz used the word to describe his band, that they were doyens of the Australian jazz scene. No doubt! This was a display of such excellence and skills. I was flabbergasted. There were time I sat back in wonder. The music was composed and structured, although not so complex. The harmonies from the front line horns may move with tiny steps, minimally. what that did at times.
Or they could site with whale calls or breathing but never forced of uncomfortable. There were solos and they glowed, but what I noticed was that they never jarred. Every line was just right, whether blaring with notes or just laying out a substitute melody. These guys all played together frequently, I guess, in different incarnations, but this was more: intonation, intent, interplay always just so right. And this band could just sit. It's actually hard to just sit with purposes. It can seem uninteresting or unresponsive but this glowed because it just sat when it should, never jarring although maybe playing madly with tension. Some drum fills just went on forever and welled with tension and its release. Then the piano would drop chords of unwavering precision. But then all this was just that: unwavering precision with taste to embellish. There were solos but this was more the compositions than the solos to my ears. The sustained perfection, the lengthy crescendoes and endless last fade were like a recording although with the immediacy of live music. It may come from the goodwill: Jonathan was smiling lots and the others too. Or from the seriousness of the compositions: all had a story behind them, of family or feelings. There were varied influences: everyone mentioned Bitches Brew for one tune where the horns explored seemingly free and there was a Donny Hathaway soul tribute with a blistering guitar solo that moved through free and screams. There were some ballads that had trumpet speaking with delicacy and another with a delicious combination of trombone and bass clarinet. And another that was free over a sustained but malleable bowed bass ostinato. This is about as good as it gets, Australian or otherwise. Music that's wise and emotionally informed played by doyens of the art. Spectacular. Gasps are in order.

Jonathan Zwartz (bass) led a sextet with Phil Slater (trumpet), Richard Maegraith (tenor, bass clarinet), James Greening (trombone), Matt McMahon (Rhodes piano), Carl Dewhurst (guitar) and Tim Firth (drums).

Residency

When he played at the Gods, Steve Barry described the three concerts in Canberra over the last week or so as a residency. The Gods was his first “residency” gig and I wrote that up. I missed the second when they played with David Jackson at the Loft. I got to the third, and thought it would be relaxing: no need to write this one up. But just a few notes.

It was a small audience, so intimate, and it showed. The trio played with an abandonment and self-satisfying purpose that was special. From the first notes, this was tight and hard playing and obviously well-practised from the tour. It felt different for this but even more for the instrumentation. The Loft has a Yamaha grand piano and that’s what Steve played. It’s stronger, more defined, less wishy-washy than a Rhodes, and I felt it made for more explicit solos and more immediate playing all round. Steve’s solos and comping were probably similar to that at the Gods. Certainly the repertoire was almost the same. Admittedly I was close, but I heard his contortions, sax-like solos, passing dissonances and substitutions with sudden clarity. I can understand his awards. Tom and Tim remained in character. Such well-formed, muscular notes and accurate and quick interval jumps from Tom. And snappy, dynamic, syncopated drums from Tim. I was amused to see his kit from head on and to realise there’s not a touch of movement, of stands, snare, almost not even of those three big cymbals. Just Tim moving over this rock-steady kit, all busy feet and snappy hands. It’s virtually all original material that they have toured, so I was just a little surprised by a beautiful Stairways to the stars to end. How incongruous. I think Tom felt that, too. Great gig.

Musing on trios

I hear a mix of professional and community activities in music and otherwise, but the full-time, well-trained, professionals are really where the skills are. I was thinking this at the Gods, watching Steve Barry’s trio, but it’s evident with lots of visiting artists or trips to the Opera House and the rest. A life committed to music, as with any art, may be challenging but it’s the way to really get things together. Given some reasonable talent, of course.

Steve’s trio are young guns with chops and something to say. I’d expected a quartet with guitarist Carl Morgan but he’d been called away overseas. So this was a Rhodes piano trio. The tone and even the era is somewhat set by the Rhodes piano, so I wasn’t surprised to hear a Herbie Hancock cover, but mostly this was original music written by Steve. It’s not obvious head/solos/head format, although essentially it’s structured like this. It feels different because there’s more fluidity in the modern approach and styles. The tinkling Rhodes is pretty constant in volume and dynamics, even if mobile in harmonies, against an improvised syncopation in bass and some driving and oft-swelling drums. I was seated where I could easily follow the drum parts, each arm and each leg, and I was entranced. Each part splits the rhythm independently, but it makes an understandable whole. That’s the nature of drums, of course, but seeing a capable drummer lay it out was a pleasure. I mentioned his quick feet to Tim after the gig nd he said he likes to dance. This was certainly nimble footwork. The double bass is by nature big-footed so slower and demands a different approach. I love that syncopation of implied beats that is a feature of this jazz, as I love walks that are shared with earlier eras, but it was the solos that took my attention. Tom played perhaps three longer solos, mainly in the second set. They were not so much conspicuous virtuosity as thoughtful investigation. That’s good. Long ranges, right into the high thumb positions, big drops to open strings and neat phrasing. The band ended with the standard, I’ll be seeing you, and I felt Scott LaFaro and Bill Evans here. I’d recorded and was surprised to find only three tunes in the second set, so this was generous with time spent with the tunes. The first tune after the interval must have been getting on to 20 minutes, but there was structure and crescendos and decays and changing features and a constant buzz of interaction, so the interest is easily maintained. Chris volunteered that this is his preferred style of jazz. I initially thought of European jazz (Chris likes Euro-jazzers), but I heard it more as an American style. I wondered about the piano trio as a democratic format. It’s a lovely ensemble to play in, without the outwardness of the sax or trumpet (not that I don’t enjoy that, too). Perhaps it’s also the intensity of rhythm, because piano is a percussion instrument. Piano has a sustain pedal but a piano’s sustain is nothing like a horn. Perhaps it’s the open sound of hard attacks and quick decays, or the spaciousness of just three instruments. I enjoyed this concert, thrilled with some great skills and it got me thinking. Thanks to Steve, Tom and Tim.

Steve Barry (piano), Tom Botting (bass) and Tim Firth (drums) played at the Gods.

A thesis in dots?

I was interested to hear that Steve Barry is reading for his doctorate in music. His thesis concerns classical music and improvisation. It’s not a common association although I’ve written of it several times here recently. I was chatting to Alex in the break and he was talking of classical bassists and hand shapes and fingerboard technique. Jazz, and perhaps all creative music, is a magpie art (“Good artists borrow, great artists steal", supposedly Picasso) so I shouldn’t be surprised. So what of Steve’s take?

Someone mentioned classical influences but I felt this was clearly out of a jazz tradition. I thought of Brad Mehldau with his truncated lines and current sensibility but I heard just a spot of Chick Corea’s harmonic sense and unison melodies and perhaps some longer Keith Jarrett lines. Steve’s compositions were strong on chords, there were latin and rock rhythms, there were unexpected fillips of time or missing beats. I also felt his playing defined left and right hand roles of chords and melody, although there was an easy modal freedom in that melody and the lines easily played around the underlying bar structures. Classic contemporary jazz, not bop styled and seldom swung. I was interested in how a changing chordal structure is relegated to feel almost unchanging, but I expect this is the end result of 50+ years of modal jazz. And I was intrigued by the very busy but unharried playing of the whole band. There were lots of ideas, lots of commitment and un-affected variation here, but it felt settled with like long crescendos and occasional change. And long tunes, up to 30 minutes.

I’ve heard all these guys in Canberra in recent days and it’s been a pleasure. Steve with Jess Pollard; Alex with Mark Lockett; Tim with Liam Budge. How different can these outings be? Alex was again clear in thought, adventurous in intent and accurate in technique. I marvel at his big well-intoned interval jumps. I found his sound a bit podgier on this night, perhaps a bigger low-mid, but what expansive inventiveness and entrenched groove in these solos! Quite stunning. Tim excited me, again with an ease of presence, but with perfectly accurate and sharply rendered fills and embellishments and rudiments. Steve led with his own compositions and the lyrical freedom I mentioned above. I liked that they played a single, long set, ~90 minutes: more involving, more relaxed for after-gig chatter, and shorter for a workday evening. I reckon that’s something jazz could learn from rock showbiz: play long and hard, don’t rest too soon. There’s a lot of understated change here: piano to bass solo to drums against ostinato and the rest, but malleable and undemonstrative although clearly planned. The tunes were originals, and Wayne Shorter’s Taru. One was entitled Parks and dedicated to pianist Aaron Parks. Changes was a love song from a distance. Vintage was a right hand melody with syncopated left hand chords and contrapuntal bass. Listening to the CD as I write, it seems strong and forceful. On the night, I heard it as more internal, busy and outspoken but complex, conversational and inner directed. Whatever, it was complex and satisfying and virtuosic. How I like it. Great stuff. Steve Barry (piano) led a trio with Alex Boneham (bass) and Tim Firth (drums) at the Loft’s last gig for the year.

Release

Liam Budge launched his CD last night. We were at the Abbey, with its earthy timber and imposing organ and arrayed PA and an impressive audience for a Sunday night. But still this was intimate.
Liam’s voice is plaintive and neatly controlled and often improvisational and here it was wonderfully close and present. The balance suited; voice and emotions and words matter here. The tense rhythm section under Liam was melodically restrained, but vehement like a compressed spring. This was powerful and emotive stuff, and it’s just the thing for a jazz vocalist. There’s been a reflowering of jazz vocalists in recent years, including several who are huge commercial successes. Most are female, but there are males too. The difficulty must be to retain authenticity in the commercial scene. Liam is certainly doing that. This is entertaining and intimate and thus sellable, but it’s more. There’s meaning is his words and originality in his arrangements and improvisations. He sang scat and it worked and not just as a period piece. This was effective, dissolving into echo and other effects – particularly impressive at a live concert. This was tradition and jazz chops but it was moulded with a Gen-Y ear. The tunes were a mix of originals and covers. The feels just sat ready to explode. I’m listening to his Bye bye blackbird on CD now. It’s a great song but not usually one for modern ears, but I’d heard it before at the Loft and it’s a killer. It sits, aroused but with a restrained surface, Chris’ bass holding things, Tim’s drums full of energy and sharps taps and rolls, Luke’s piano bouncy in chords and lithe in solos. This was the feel of the band. Not loud; controlled and careful but tense under the skin. This is black and white, film noir, suspense and longing. There will never be another you was similarly rearranged by Liam and Luke. Here’s it’s all medium-up swing and smooth trumpet but head and tailed with an accented, interrupted melody that retells the original then drops into a canny, hip vamp. These are common standards but manicured for an audience of lounge or tea room or grand stage. Liam’s intro to Stop this Trane was amusing. It’s his response to a John Mackey class in Giant steps and it’s well clear of Coltrane changes. Farewell was a slow ballad, bass solo, unison voice and flugelhorn; “we will begin, for you, to turn to”. San Diego serenade was a Tom Waits cover and an unexpected touch of light Californian rock with a pleasing jazz structure. Bettina was for his girlfriend, a ballad of touch and candlelight, intimate and quiet, accompanied by just bass and flugelhorn. They didn’t play This could be the start of something big, although it’s a jazz standard, but this concert may have been. Luke’s got amiability and feel and jazz chops and for singer’s it’s a world of opportunity. I’ll be watching and I’ve got a signed copy of his first CD. Break a leg, Liam. Liam Budge (vocals) led a band with Luke Sweeting (Rhodes, piano, organ), Ken Allars (trumpet), Chris Pound (bass) and Tim Firth (drums). Tom Sly (flugelhorn, trumpet) sat in for two songs.

We only caught two final songs from the opening act, Jess Pollard and Steve Barry. This is a Sydney pair, singer and keys, with some witty lyrics, curt phrasing and a delicious tremolo that wheedles its way into the high notes. Not enough to report on but I wish we’d heard more. Jess Pollard (vocals) paired with Steve Barry (Rhodes).