Valerie and more

I know Valerie. It's a song from Amy Winehouse and was the last tune of the first set of Movement 9's tribute to Amy. I'd wondered where it would appear. It's a great soft-funky piece with considerable life and deep emotion. I learnt it to play at the Casino and the chords were trivial but the groove was seductive and the response from the audience was surprising and immediate. It's obviously known and loved. So is AW more generally. She had a difficult and short life but her lyrics are her own and the messages are raw and honest.

Movement 9 came to the Street Theatre fronting Elly Poletti in the role of Amy W. This was their second visit. Both visits were full houses, last time in Street 2, this time in the larger Street 1. Larger and more formal, which was good for sound and space if not so much for intimacy. The music was great and the interpretations were also great. This was capable, careful, educated playing all round. Joe is the arranger and he did real justice. His approach was to respect and interpret rather than just mimic, so it's a tribute in the true sense of the word. This is a work of respect and, talking to Joe afterwards, it was clear he knew his subject and granted that respect. So, his arrangements were unintrusive and clear. But then I don't know the originals particularly well. I loved the curt and decisive drumming matched with bass funky syncopations and often choppy keys. Jordan knew well when to elaborate and he could do it at will but remained nicely restrained. Mostly 5-string electric bass, but double on a few tracks. Then the 6 horns (this is a nine-piece ensemble plus vocals): alto (leader Joe), tenor and bari saxes, two trumpets and trombone. They were discreet but I melted over some sounds: a two part trom/trumpet harmony; the three brass another time, in harmony or in hits; a delightful combination of flute with brass; the rhythmic phap of the bari at various times. And more generally, the intonation which I never noticed faltering. Then Elly over the top. I don't envy her this role: it's always hard to play the key central character, singer or otherwise. I heard some of Amy's desperation at times, her good will amongst distance and self-protection. Never easy, but well done. They all took solos, of course, and they were all good. I particularly noticed trumpet and tenor but that's the jazzer's take, not the essence of this show. As a mark of respect and a memory of a brilliant but troubled musician, this was a great work, and I loved every minute.

We may never meet again : the music Of Amy Winehouse was a tribute show by Movement 9 with Elly Poletti (vocals). Movement 9 are Joe McEvilly (alto, arrangements), Tom Sly (trumpet), Niran Dasika (trumpet), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Stephen Byth (tenor), Nick McCusker (baritone sax), Joel Trigg (piano), Jordan Tarento (bass) and James Milic (drums).

Apologies

It was a busy time and that’s my reason but not an excuse. I missed writing up the CD launch for RasRufus. RasRufus are graduates of the Jazz School. They’ve been lucky in grants, and this is one outcome: their CD launch. The Ainslie Arts Centre was full with family and friends. This was virtually all original material, other than a visit to Radiohead. It was varied: studiously cool with minimal grooves, latin dotted crotchets, jazz rockers in 9/8, a Lonnie Smith tribute, the unpredictable floating odd times of Radiohead, a ballad and the major work, Tanzverbot. Tanzverbot is the name of the CD and the tune is long and complex. It means “dance is forbidden” in German, and refers to dance being banned before religious and public festivities from the 1930s. It’s written as an undanceable piece, although there’s at least one segment of danceable 4/4 mixed with the freeish or minimal styles and punctuated melodies and 7/4. Careful and prescribed msuic and sometimes excitable, especially with solos from Luke and Tom. My apologies to RasRufus for being so late with this one. RR are Victor Rufus (guitar), Henry Rasmussen (drums), Luke Sweeting (piano), Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn) and Jared Plane (bass). Victor and Henry are the composers.

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).

Revisiting the ninth movement

It’s not right that bands should be so mature at 22. Movement 9 played jazz, not pop or rock. This is a complex art form, so how can Joe McEvilly compose and arrange and lead a 9-piece band of such quality in just his second year of tertiary studies? It just goes to show he’s talented and committed and he’s had quality training. And I’m not the only one who thinks it. They were heard playing one of their first gigs at Canberra’s Floriade and were invited to perform at the Wangaratta Festival, Australian’s premiere modern jazz outing. It was in these auspicious circumstances that Movement 9 performed for the final student concert at the Jazz School.

What a blast it was: a melange of styles, mostly original compositions but also clever arrangements played by a great band of the most capable students. You may wonder when you listen to their skills, but they are students. This night they invited several mentors, Eric Ajaye on bass, Miroslav Bukovsky on trumpet and John Mackey on tenor. All experienced and renowned players and all at ease with a band like this. Coltrane’s Giant steps is a favourite tune of John Mackey and Joe’s arrangement was a tour de force. He hadn’t just written harmonies for horns, but he’d reconstructed the feel and time sense to twist memories and still present a joyous playtime for the duelling pair of altoist Matt and tenor John. This was both a blow and a blowout, but also an ingenious rethinking of this challenging standard. That was the end of the night. Before this there were a string of different feels and times and styles: attractive, theatrical, commercial. This was clever writing and the performers played up to the opportunity. Strings of solos, trombone, trumpet, piano, bass, several drum explorations, the best I’ve heard from Henry on drums. These were big, bold sounds and indulgent grooves and they were an inspiration. Tate was studied and expansive as always, even if undemonstrative in stage presence. The trumpet pairing of Ax and Tom were in friendly but serious competition. Matt is just a master, always lyrically clear and never a faked note despite exuberant flourishes. Raf was all smiles and groove and chops as the bass doubler. I only remember one solo from Oshein, fat and bluesy. Patrick’s trombone got quite a workout. Joe himself, led from the bottom, on baritonesax, but he’s equally comfortable on alto. I think of Mingus with his heavy baritone parts and his compositions and think this fits nicely.

Other tunes? They open with a tight rollicking latin with Lola quotes and Cuban trumpets. Then a chart that could have come from variety TV, swinging lightly with a quizzical melody and cool solos. Then a blues-influenced medium tempo hard bop called Green dreaming. Then Wings with a Steely Dan influence that Joe admittedly that he garnered from his parents. Then Winter hymn, a touching secular melody. Then a blow on Supercollider, a favourite big band piece at the Jazz School, featuring the chops of much loved teacher Eric Ajaye. There’s another for composition teacher Miro, slow and with space for Miro’s trumpet and another drum feature. Then Cool change, a laid back cocktail bar latin. Then Pinoaks and that rebuild of Giant steps and a 7/4 groove and a final encore. This is clever and surprisingly mature and varied music. A fat and tight band sound and capable solos and some great writing. The band has done the dying jazz school proud. Eric Ajaye spoke to an assembled audience that students should live their dreams, despite the demise of our jazz school here in Canberra. These guys may be products of a dying institution, but they are proof that it was a success. This was a seriously mature and capable and involving band and I loved it.

Movement 9 is led by Joe McEvilly (baritone sax) with Ax Long (trumpet), Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn), Matt Handel (alto), Oisin Smith-Coburn (tenor), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Tate Sheridan (piano), Raf Jerjen (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums). Eric Ajaye (bass), Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet) and John Mackey (tenor) sat in for one tune each.

For Canberra’s 100th

I feel bereft and the final student concert at the Jazz School the other night had a sad, even teary, air about it. Eric Ajaye raised spirits with a dignified personal-recovery-from-adversity oration, and that’s admirable and true, at least to some degree. Joe McEvilly was leading the band and I was impressed by both his musical and personal maturity (he’s only 20!) as he avoided being overly political, recognising it was “too late for us” but maybe there was a future for others. I understand current students still don’t know what’s on offer next year. Some are leaving; some are staying to finish. One parent has told me of a student who had been offered a transfer but that it would extend his course by one year. Enrolments are down ~25% but the new Director expects full enrollment by the start of year. It’s a common expectation amongst the jazz community that no-one would come to Canberra for the new course. Perhaps students will pursue it as a second degree and that has some value and it’s cheaper. Good luck to the few worthy staff that remain (let alone those who have left). I imagine it will be a hard road to travel. This from an institution that been with us for half of Canberra’s 99 year life. I’m thinking that the Music School may have been the most popular cultural institution in Canberra. Certainly, tens of thousands of Canberrans signed a petition and all parties in the Legislative Assembly were disappointed with the ANU decision. Is this a 1975 Dismissal moment? The comparison sits easily with me. Remember the suddenness; remember the widely despised GG John Kerr; remember “Mantain the rage”; remember the rent to the Australian fabric. I can imagine an emotional void down Marcus Clarke St right now and some friends speak of it. My more cynical friends predict investments in high rise next to Llewellyn in a few years. I was terribly disappointed by the arguments presented, but the weakest must be to call up the conservative-bugbear of “elites”. How is this elite? Elite as in intellect and discovery like Nobel Prizes? Elite as in high university rankings? Elite as in musicians who are renowned and tour the world? Or elite as in Occupy’s 1% and $?m heads of corporations and too big to fail. With our whole society, even universities, taking the corporate path, it makes you wonder. Yep, the school was elite, but in performance not wealth and that seems perfectly admirable to me and Canberra was the better for its musical success. So, excuse the lack of a concert report. Suffice to say that it was very good. They are invited to play at Wangaratta, Australia’s main modern jazz festival, this weekend. That’s elite, stunningly so for a few students with original charts. But what more to say? Farewell.

Movement 9 played at the final ANU School of Music student jazz series of 2012. Movement 9 is a platform for arrangements and compositions by Joe McEvilly (baritone sax) with Ax Long (trumpet), Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn), Matt Handel (alto), Oisin Smith-Coburn (tenor), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Tate Sheridan (piano), Raf Jerjen (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums). Eric Ajaye (bass), Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet) and John Mackey (tenor) sat in for one tune each.

For a full report on the concert rather than a paean over the jazz school, see Revisiting the ninth movement

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Chitlins and gravy

Party gravy is just a winning name (even if I don’t know what chitlins are). So was the band. Rough at times, but alive and infectious with funereal joy.
Funereal joy? As in New Orleans, with musicians accompanying coffins and the sombre turning to merriment. It’s not as strange as it sounds, of course. Wakes have a way of releasing you from the mundane and renewing bonds and often end in a charming mix of joy and melacholy, and often too much grog. Party gravy may have been playing the New Orleans funeral standards but this was for a modern Australian audience that wouldn’t know such funerals other than mythically. This was Fathers day and there were lots of little kids and the place was busy with swing dancers and drawn beers. Bite to Eat Café is a lively and friendly place that appeals to all ages with its ‘50s laminex demeanor and cosmopolitan vivacity. I only caught the second set, but one hour made my day. This was a place of generous and indiscriminate smiles, as a social venue should be, and the band provided the perfect ambience. Set two, first tune, was the classic Just a closer walk with thee; second tune, Down by the riverside. Then a medley of modern tunes funked up in marching band style: Pumped up kicks / Foster People, Boulevard of broken dreams / Green Day and Mad world / Tears for Fears>REM. Then an original, written just days before, called The Kraken. One more, then Feel like funking it up. By this time, the dancing kids had left the aisles and the adults were at it. Then it wound down and we were off to a quieter night, but joyous and enlivened.

I should just mention one touch of seriousness. I’m not one for the militarisation of the public which has been happening over recent years, but I do feel the loss of one of three soldiers in Afghanistan in recent days. He was from Canberra and was just a year ahead of one of my kids at school. My best wishes to his family. Like any funeral, this, too, had its solemn side. Good on the band for dedicating Closer walk to him. Party Gravy is a New Orleans-style Brass Band comprising Tom Sly and Ax Long (trumpet), Andrew Kimber (alto sax), Tye Langford (baritone sax), Josh Hart and Patrick Langdon (trombone), Sam McNair and Mark Slegers (drums) and Alec Coulson (bass).

PS: Now I know. Chitlins is an abbreviated form for chitterlings: chit•ter•lings [chit-linz, -lingz] noun ( used with a singular or plural verb ) the small intestine of swine, especially when prepared as food. ( http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/chitterlings , viewed 3 Sep 2012).

Without you

God only knows what I’d be without you. It’s a haunting theme and a perfect melody and maybe a song that Jocie Jensen’s grandfather sang to his deceased wife in her garden. Jocie performed last night in a septet at the Loft. It may be the name of the unassuming band, or maybe just of this performance, but Jocie and Rhys presented this as Hilda’s garden. I heard the story twice and it had me close to tears both times. Her grandmother, Hilda, developed dementia and her husband, Jocie’s grandfather, built a garden for her to tend. After she died, he would sing to his departed spouse in her garden. Maybe he sang the Beachboys song, God only knows. I can only admire such a touching and life-affirming response to loss.

Jocie told me before the concert that she was seeking to perform something other than just jazz standards. In the end, there was jazz, and these are trained jazz players, so the performance had solos and chops, but this gig ventured far afield: to song and melody (Jocie mentioned good song-writing several times during patter) and to pop (but not pap) and to words (but not intellectualisation). Jazz also has its melodies, of course (I have bop in my head frequently), but these are mostly intellectual and thrilling rather than deep and touching. We got one of those intellectual thrills as the final tune, Monk’s dream, with its rabid atonalism and virtuosic abandon, and one of the few jazz tunes that can touch the soul as an encore, Round midnight, but mostly these songs were from other repertoires. A distillation of Simple Minds’ Don’t you forget about me; Vince Jones’ rich structure in Love comes back; Sigur Rós Góðan Daginn, translated from Icelandic; Chris Thile’s The beekeeper with a bluegrass-styled unison piano-fiddle middle; Pat Metheny’s Midwestern night’s dream (Jocie: Pat Metheny sure can write music); Peter Gabriel’s In your eyes (Jocie: he writes great melodies); A-Ha’s rollicking Take on me; and as a starter, Christian Scott’s The Eraser with unison syncopated comping on piano/bass behind a tasteful melody. And that superbly beautiful God only knows sung with solo guitar backing. These are obviously not jazz charts, but they are impressive and affecting songs.

They were an unassuming band and their concern was with song, so I am wary of mentioning individuals. But what did I notice? Jocie’s voice mostly sang pure and high with a subtle decay into vibrato, but perhaps my favourite was when she got down, dirty and atonal, in Monk’s dream with odd intervals and bluesy growls. El’s violin is infrequent in jazz but a wonderful sound, wet with reverb and very smart and animated and with classically-correct intonation. Tom’s trumpet (muted or not) and flugel dropped a few frenzied lines but were mostly lyrical and nicely structured, often working in harmony with the Jocie’s voice or against El’s counterpoint. Luke is just a master and eminently professional. I laughed with his outlandish solo in Monk’s dream that was far enough out that I wondered if it was just free, but it was littered with the slightest of hints at underlying chords. Rhys had a modest demeanour, eyes down in thought, but then surprised me with what was the nearest thing to shredding during a few later solos. Alec and Luke were supportive rhythm section with rock rhythms, understated percussion, unison written lines and occasional walks.

This was touching stories and refreshing melody from a very unexpected setlist. Hilda’s garden was led by Jocie Jensen (vocals) and Rhys Mottley (guitar) with support from Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn), Llewellyn (El) Osborne (jazz violin), Luke Sweeting (piano, accordion), Alec Coulson (bass) and Luke Keanan-Brown (drums, percussion).

More chalk and cheese, pt.1

Freshbace was two student bands, each led by a visiting jazz luminary. The first was Bennie Maupin; the second was Joe Chindamo. I’d seen both of these musicians in workshop so I was intrigued to hear them in concert as leaders of a student band. Like some other combinations that I’ve attended at CJP, these were chalk and cheese.

Bennie’s band went first. Bennie was involved in some major movements in the late sixties and seventies - Bitches brew, On the corner, Headhunters, Mwandishi – so we could expect a more spacey presentation. We got it. Just to emphasise the approach, the concert started with a string quartet. Then into a concert of heavy grooves, touches of free or at least lengthy cacophony, string quartet intros and washes, plenty of solos including a Ponty-like jazz violin, and an end on a solid funk. The tunes were originals from Bennie’s pen. Jewel of the Lotus and Mapo were spacey ‘70s jazz from early ECM releases. Equal justice was a ballad where Bennie played a slow ostinato of long and somewhat atonal intervals on piano. The final tune was a solid jazz funk that livened up to finish the set. This is probably the era that most influenced me in jazz so I was entranced by the music. The students were playing to their best, aware but smiling, and the music was alluring and physical. I especially took note of the unusual sound of El’s electric violin, which she played with considerable authority and with those characteristic intervals due to the tuning in fifths. Daniel’s guitar solo, especially his overt cutting blues and repeated notes against the funk, was classic Kim: outlandish but convincing. Jordan dropped into slap for the funk and let loose some devastating triplet slaps. I enjoyed watching the string quartet enjoying temporary freedom from dots during several group improv passages. Nice concert and earthy and physical.

Bennie Maupin (soprano sax, piano) led a student band comprising Andy Butler (piano), Matt Handel (alto), Tom Sly (trumpet), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Daniel Kim (guitar), Henry Rasmussen (drums), Llewellyn Osborne (jazz violin) and the Childers String Quartet of Tobias Chisnall (violin), Estelita Rae (violin), Anthony de Battista (viola) and Julia Janiszewski (cello).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

An autumn serenade

I was late, but it was a buzzing crowd at the CGS Gallery when I arrived during Liam Budge’s set break: confident, friendly and chatty. Somewhat like Liam himself.

Singers do have a way, they have a presence, and Liam has it strongly. He emotes every word, bending knees, moving about the stage with the rhythms, leading strongly as a front man and percussing in support with nonsense vocal sounds. There’s a lot of his mentor, Vince Jones, in his presentation, the overt emotion and the hands crossed behind his back. Not so much the politics. At least at this stage, his presence is more simply musical and, when he writes, more personally emotional. So he performed Bye bye blackbird, but richly rearranged by Luke Sweeting in 7/4, and Autumn serenade, again re-imagined. One original was of lost love, forever a topic of music and also of youth. But his covers weren’t just the old standards. There was a Tom Waits and also a funky George Michael in the mix. This was rich variety, of performers and styles and grooves and sounds. His basic support was a piano trio, Luke, Jordan, Henry, but he augmented that for various tunes with Joe on alto and/or Tom on trumpet. I melted with some of Luke’s solos, but that’s to be expected these days. He is immensely strong, varied in improv, easily consonant or otherwise, and the piano gives him the most orchestral of instruments to play with. Henry introduced one tune with an attractive solo of percussive gentility where I noticed the thuddy tones of a floor tom damped with jacket over skin that contrasted nicely with a mildly played but sharply tuned snare. Jordan took the opportunity of the Tom Waits tune to let go with a fluent bass solo, and we consoled each other later about the clumsiness of the lovely-sounding double bass against the fluency of the middly-toned but easily-spoken electric. Bass doublers have it tough. On another tune, I noticed some lovely unexpected harmonies from Tom on trumpet against Liam’s vocal lines, and lifting fills with Joe on alto. But the voice is closest to human expression in music, and Liam is an overt, emotional, attractive character on-stage and off. Male singers aren’t too common on the ground and Liam, with his presence and depth, has convinced me they have a place. This was a very nicely presented and emotionally rich performance form Liam and his capable offsiders.

I must also mention the venue. The Canberra Grammar School Gallery may be short on lighting but it’s a wonderfully comfortable and even indulgent space, with grand piano, nice wines on tap and art to peruse in the breaks. Currently on display is the Mortimore Prize touring exhibition of realist art works. It’s not a large exhibition, but there are some decent painting skills (and impressive prices) on display.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a band at the CGS Gallery with Luke Sweeting (piano), Jordan Tarento (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums) and Tom Sly (trumpet) and Joe McEvilly (alto) sitting in on various tunes.