Miriam’s at it again

Thanks to indefatigable Miriam Zolin. Miriam’s the energy behind the National Jazz Writing Competition. She’s now launched a journal of writing on jazz: extempore. Issues will be published twice a year (May and November) and the first will be launched at this year’s Wangaratta Jazz Festival. Each issue includes a sampler CD of Australian jazz. I notice our own local poet and jazz supporter, Geoff Page, is involved (I understand he’s the poetry editor). It’s great to see teams of jazz supporters working together. Jazz is a demanding personal commitment for the muso, but we are stronger on the business side when we work as a community. Check out the extempore website for more info on Miriam and her new journal.

Here are the contents for the first issue:

John Clare shares his Diary of a Rock and Roll Jazz Fan | John Shand on music and the beautiful corpse | Peter Jordan on jazz in the media | Sascha Feinstein on Kenneth Rexroth | Miriam Zolin and Jim McLeod interview Paul Grabowsky | An interview with Jim McLeod | Michael Webb interviews Sandy Evans | Adrian Jackson interviews Shannon Barnett | Peter Wockner interviews Aaron Flower | We talk to Marios about their support of the jazz scene in Melbourne | book reviews by John Clare and Adrian Jackson | poetry by Geoff Page, Allan Browne, PS Cottier, Andrew McDonald | anecdotes and poetry by Tony Gorman | winning short stories from the 2008 National Jazz Writing Competition | prints by John Ryrie | photographs by Mark Peterson and Natasha Blankfield | art by Bruce Petty

extempore website

Pink Floyd with training

Large ensembles are such a pleasure with their big, complex, harmonised sounds. Two of the Jazz School's large bands played the other night for their annual public outing for friends and families to precede the festival season and Floriade. I just caught the last few tunes of the Big Band. They sounded great in the Band Room. It's their home base so it's comfortable, but it's also got a sound that suits this collective style. The band was tight, big and harmonised with some nice solos. I particularly liked Chris Pound's bass solo on the last tune (but then I play bass). He commented after that it's difficult for a bass to hear itself in such a dense soundscape, but he seemed to perform perfectly well.

Mostly I just heard the Commercial Ensemble and they were playing a storm: tight, funky and fun. This is the TV/variety show outfit, but they ended performing quite a range of styles. Reuben Lewis was playing a lovely muted trumpet solo as I walked in with a beer during the first tune. That didn't seem your normal Commercial fare. More expected was Fish'n'grits, a lyrical Yellowjackets-style chart, and Marvin Gaye's What's going on. It's obviously a vocal tune (meaning it's got lyrics), but Marie LeBrun also featured with a complex and mobile jazz vocal improvisation which blew me out. Persevere was another one out of left field. It has underlying written parts, but leader Eric Ajaye left the band to improvise pretty freely at various times, and the resultant style was almost electronica at times. Matt Lustri on guitar introduced with an effected soundscape, then into jazz rock grooves from drums, then bass, then piano. There was a band melody featured in there somewhere, but mostly drum grooves against rubato soundscapes until James LeFevre arrived with whale-calls on his tenor sax. Thereafter were some more written passages, and finally into an ordered passage of a repeating 4-bar turnaround with solos. Eric Ajaye had suggested it was a challenge to band and listeners, especially given the free improvisation in performance. It was. I described it as Pink Floyd with training; Eric liked that. The band finished with Chicken, a tune made popular by Jaco Pastorius, and so a challenge to any bass player. It was closer to home, and Leigh did it well. Overall, the band was hot and tight, and the humour was good. Congrats to Hugh Deacon (drums) and Leigh Miller (bass) who were the rhythm section key for the band. And also congrats to the Commercials for getting a gig at the coming Wangaratta Festival.

The Jazz School features at Floriade on weekday lunchtimes over the next few weeks. Check out times on CJCalendar.

Post-Bakelite mainstream

The cool sound of the Hammond B-3 and that strange and very pre-digital Leslie speaker took the Hippo audience back to that hard-swinging era of go-ahead, mainstream jazz somewhere around the 50s/60s. The line-up of organist (playing the bass line with his left hand), guitar and drums just confirmed the reference to Jimmy Smith, who introduced this sound in the mid-50s, playing with Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell and the like. The sound is post-Bakelite, mainstream, pre-modern. In it, I hear influences of swing bands and bop, and no recognition of the tumults of cool and free that were exploding at the time. No problems there. It’s pleasant and entertaining, and none too deep: suitable for those post-war 50s couples, so recently released from the harsh demands of wartime, to settle into a materially comfortable era (and also forget the Bomb). When well played, it’s joyous, carefree, tuneful, even coquettish, and a great pleasure.

This local incarnation was billed the Mike Price Trio with Stu Hunter. Mike is the head of the jazz school, and a guitarist well suited to this style. His Gibson tone is woody; his playing is mostly tonal, although occasionally chromatic, and always fast and flowing, and with some chordal playing, not just in accompaniment. I also noticed the way he implied the melody in his solos: that’s nice to hear in a front line soloist. Col on drums is another of the Jazz School faculty. This pair has played together for many years in a residency at the Kurrajong Hotel (a local and free gem) with Eric Ajaye and their relationship shows with responsiveness from Col and easy passing of solos to and from drums. Col frequently arrives with basic kits. This time, he brought just snare, hi-hats and two cymbals. Early in the night, he played with brushes and hands and with the snare off. Only later, did the sticks (and mallets) appear and the snare was switched in. It’s idiosyncratic, but he wrings some nice, changing rhythmic expressions from this minimal kit. It’s amazing just how many tonalities are available just by hitting a few things, and the limited palette probably forces Col to work on this aspect of his playing. Stu was the younger colt, dressed in big city jazz style, and armed with an array of equipment. He mainly played Nord keyboard with the right hand and bass lines on a Virus synthesiser with his left, as well as several effects units, amps and that Leslie cabinet I mentioned above. This is all a modern recreation of the classic Hammond/Leslie. (This gear is heavy! If you’d seen players struggling to lift the authentic combination onto a stage, you’d readily accept the digital substitute). Not that I noticed a loss of sound quality. He explained the software emulation of the lower Leslie cabinet, and the basses on the Virus synth. All interesting, and perfectly authentic sounding, at least in performance. His performance was also authentic. Nice, understated basslines, with a surprisingly true acoustic sound, deep and soft with a little edge; post-bop right hand solo lines with those distinct changing tonalities of the Hammond or effected piano sounds. All around, the swing was tight and the effect was jumpy and joyous.

There were several standards on show. My favourite was Benny Golson’s masterpiece, Whisper not, but I also seem to remember You don’t know what love is, Have you met Miss Jones, In a sentimental mood and Just friends. There was a shuffle and a few others I didn’t recognise. It was all very thrown together on the night, but authentic and effective none the less. Decent jazz players can do that, of course.

This was a lovely re-creation of an era, swinging playing and quite joyful. Nice one from Mike Price (guitar), Stu Hunter (keyboards, esp. organ and keyboard bass) and Col Hoorweg (drums).

Musos clubbing

The Canberra Musicians Club launched this weekend with a 12 hour gig featuring numerous different musicians and numerous different styles. The weather was warm and sunny (too sunny early on, but more on that later). The Club has been formed so musos can gather to assist each other, eg, it can provide PAs for hire at reasonable rates, and very interestingly, provides legal indemnity for events held under their banner. That really is an interesting concept and should support independent, grass roots events. I expected a folk and indie scene, but there was a decent jazz contingent, thanks to Cam and the Folkus Room crew. My band, Toucani, played one set in the mid afternoon, under a scorching sun that everyone was complaining about.

I heard a mixture of bands over the afternoon, but couldn’t stay for the evening. Black Hat Band is a blues outfit including a mate from work, Dave Grey (guitar/vocals). The band featured several of the Kooky Fandango crew who were to appear later in the day. Kooky Fandango are stalwarts playing a smooth, sweet jazz style, with an interesting crystal clear chordal role for Peter Barta on his 6-string Alembic Series 1 (no guitar here). Otherwise, it’s Cameron Smith (trumpet), Tom Fell (alto sax), Nathan Sciberras (tenor and baritone saxes), Mario Gordon (congas) and led by singer Courtney Stark. My Toucani played a set of 4 originals (2 by Daniel, 2 by Eric) along with Sam River’s beautiful ballad, Beatrice, and Wayne Shorter’s hard bop Prince of Darkness. Mark Body (drums) filled in given the absence of Brenton, and played with Daniel Wild (piano), John Baczynski (tenor) and Eric Pozza (bass). I really enjoyed this gig, despite the radiant heat. We played fairly relaxed and expansively, I think with the assistance of a comfortable, informal atmosphere, and there was a double bass player doing the mix, so I could trust his work. And in the open air you never have balance problems: you can always hear, although it can be a bit thin at times. Most enjoyed.

Then a lovely cool jazz set by the Joseph Taylor Quintet. Joseph Taylor (tenor) commonly plays with Corey Booth (trumpet) and John Cohen (piano) and was joined for this gig by Bill Williams (bass) and Chris Thwaites (drums). Truly a lovely, cool set, harking back to Miles in the 50s, with the same instrumentation, some of the same tunes, and a similar feel and approach. I love a good cool set when I hear it, and they performed it with panache. Tunes included some originals, but also All of you and Wayne Shorter’s Backstage Sally. Great stuff.

To finish my day off, I finally caught up with Los Chavos. They are a lively latin band with some very good players and an entertaining front man, and they deserved the audience which they got: young, even very young (as in children), happy and dancing. Very enjoyable, tight, and capable. I also caught the Cashews in the underpass near Albert Hall for one of their famed guerilla gigs, but only for a few minutes. Well done, and entertaining, but not really my style.

What’s in a name?

On the week of a double murder in Canberra, the Lethals broadcast live from the Artsound studios for a Friday Night Live session. But I don’t imagine the name is related to this, or a run of crime-related deaths that Canberra has seen over recent months. Rather, I think the name is a punny reference to the leader’s name, Leigh Miller, so it could have been Leigh-thals in place of Lethals. In fact, the night was more concerned with start than end of life. But more on that later.

I heard just a little of the broadcast on the radio, being busy with other matters, but what I heard were several funky, groove-based tunes in different styles, but consistently satisfying. There were originals. Beginnings was penned by Leigh and was funky and gave everyone a chance to blow and warm up. A long number by Sam towards the end of the night hinted at the Bitches Brew era of jazz rock. A non-original was from Soulive. Soulive is a bass-less trio of organ, guitar and drums. The simple, descending lines on bass were evidence of the organ bass, but the unexpectedly hip melody put the tunes clearly in the jazz idiom.

The grooves supported frequent and inventive soloing. Leigh sometimes reminded me of that great rock bassist, Jack Bruce, with what seemed to me to be a similar soloistic conception, although he had a far more modern tone of deep bass and prominent highs rather than JB’s fat, middy Gibson sound. Leigh can play some hot licks and blistering runs and works the scales effectively and likes to colour his sound with echo and effects. It’s a little off-putting to think that he came to ANU to play classical bass and only recently entered the jazz stream. Niels is back from London and a pleasure to hear. Mature, considered, skilled and just plain musical. His melody playing is simple and true to the tunes, and his solos are clear and entrancing statements. Many soloists impress with busy-ness, but I found myself observing Niels’ long pauses and hanging out for his next line. I’m not saying this was simple playing: there are fast passages and obvious dissonances, but they arrive as clear developments of a solo statement and are not out of place. I’d noticed this with Niels at White Eagle a few years back, but he seems to have further refined this path. Lovely stuff. Aron seemed to be in his element. This was lithe playing, rich with echo and related effects (phasing or flanging or whatever). Strong solos, and I noticed some whiffs of early McLaughlin comping which just confirmed the Bitches Brew reference. I mentioned it to Aron and he just said he’d been playing that tune for years and it just felt right like that. Sam is a stalwart of this groove-based style of music with his watchful eyes and ears and steady reliability. You often hear him in this context around town. I missed any solos on the night, but then I didn’t catch most of the concert.

This is a new incarnation for the Lethals. They had their first night at Hippo just two days earlier. But the real start of life reference was to Aron and his wife who were expecting their second child any day. There was relief in his voice when Leigh mentioned this while introducing the last tune: the phone hadn’t rung and they’d got to the end of the broadcast with a guitarist. So the Lethals actually presented a much more positive life experience than the name suggests. Catch them at their next gig at Moruya, but expect Aron to be looking a little tired.

The Lethals are Leigh Miller (bass), Niels Rosendahl (tenor sax), Aron Lyon (guitar) and Sam Young (drums).

Picturing the Jazz Age

Jazz was once a popular music. It was a different era, that jazz era. Think Depression, WW2, the Communist Internationale, bohemians and free love, Premier Lang, Catholics and Protestants. The death throes came after WW2, with peoples’ relief after the hot war, and the return to the home, the Cold War, beatniks, and perhaps immigration. Thereafter rock became the sound track of times and personal freedom became a common theme, and not just one for the bohemian arty, commie types. It changed again in 1968, and it continues to change, but these are not jazz stories. More recently, Wynton Marsalis, Stanley Crouch and a few other conservatives have argued there’s no jazz after the early 60s. I have no truck with this argument, but jazz has clearly changed its role in society. It’s become an educated artform and it’s found in academia, but it continues to survive and grow and have relevance. And in these lyrebird-like post-modern times, everything has acceptance, even if welcomed with some irony.

I just heard a radio documentary which was not specifically about the Jazz Era, but set the scene wonderfully clearly. It was a radio history of Jean Devanny, and of course it was on ABC’s Radio National. Jean was an ardent communist, novelist and feminist in Australia at the height of the Communist Party’s influence. It’s a fascinating story of a heavy smoking, hard working, strongly speaking woman in the Party. This is the Party of camaraderie and factions; workers and intellectuals; art for art’s or politics’ sake; women as tea ladies and free lovers. This story is a microcosm and enabler of the changes we were to see later. Jazz and music weren’t mentioned during the program, but it was constantly present with snippets between spoken sections. The music was light, joyful, swinging, and well chosen. It was big band music. The horns played tonal melodies and simply arpeggiated solos. No dissonance here, but pure and clear and very artful: a clever and sometimes escapist response to the ructions of the mid-20th Century. I much enjoyed the doco for its picture of a fairly recent past, for its history of an interesting woman and an important political movement, and as a reminder of the centrality of jazz as popular music at the time.

The documentary on Jean Devanny was broadcast in Life and Times. Life and Times, with Richard Buckham, is a program of radio biographies. It’s broadcast on ABC Radio National 6am AEST Sundays. Both transcripts and podcasts are available at the website (although copyright might limit how long the program remains online):

http://www.abc.net.au/rn/lifeandtimes/stories/2008/2356171.htm

There's also an article on Jean by her biographer, Carole Ferrier, which is available online:

“One of the Greatest of Our Women’ : Jean Devanny’s Revolutionary Marxism / Carole Ferrier. In Rethinking Marxism in Australia, Journal of Social Change and Critical Inquiry (JoSCCI), no. 2, Sept 2000. (http://www.uow.edu.au/arts/joscci/ferrier.html, viewed 7 Sept 2008).

Doing business

I have no problems with aspects of jazz as business, not just as art. Let’s face it, you have to eat. But it’s not just that. Those players who commit themselves to the profession are the most practiced, so generally the most capable. The ones who also have a decent talent are the artists, and they are the ones we most admire. Let me mention some recent music business transactions: they show the range of experiences, one good and one bad.

Firstly, the good. Thanks and praise to Rode mics. For the last year, I’ve been recording local and visiting jazz performers*. I’ve learnt a lot and my recordings have improved markedly. I’ve moved from mini-disk (very good) with various mics (just OK), to Zoom H4 (excellent and easy) with internal mics (surprisingly good), then to a RØDE NT4 stereo mic (excellent). The latest incarnation of my recording kit gives truly satisfying results given a quiet location, decent mic placement and some mastering (a significant skill in itself): a low noise floor and a smooth, well balanced and extended frequency range from deep bass to clear high cymbals. There are some niggles (battery drain, setting levels, etc) and it can never match close miking for immediacy, but for the price and ease of use, this setup gives truly amazing results. Chris Deacon at ArtSound put me on to Rode: he swears by them for quality and value for money. They even offer a 10 year warranty. I’d bought second hand, but when I had a problem, they still provided quick and responsive service and a free repair. This is a great Australian company (located in Sydney and manufacturing here in Australia) that produces world class products at reasonable prices. CJ is happy to give great plaudits. Thanks to RØDE and highly recommended!

Secondly, the bad. I’ve reported on playing at the National Museum with my very capable jazz/disco band, Crisp. It was a gig with the celebrity medico-clown, Patch Adams, as speaker. Well, we didn’t get a cheque until we’d hassled for some time and then the cheque was stopped, so members of the band are taking the case to the Small Claims Court. There are reports on the Net of the organiser doing similarly questionable things in the US. Given his actions, it’s interesting (although doesn’t surprise me) that he praised the Lord and presented as a born-again committed Christian in that common US mould. I won’t give names (damn our legal system), but it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Many musos have occasional experiences like this. We should all be aware, be business-like, get contracts, keep records, stand up for our rights, etc, but it will still probably happen occasionally. In the meantime, read this Dear bandleader joke. Performing musos will understand.

*BTW, musos have been very generous in allowing me to record them. In return, I’m a stickler for not abusing their permissions. I always provide copies to the performers, and never make copies for others without their permission. It’s a personal commitment to those who allow me to record.

The number is 276

The Canberra tertiary institutions had their Open Day over the weekend, and that means Open Day for the School of Music. My Number One Son is now in Year 12 and I accompanied him to a few other venues around ANU (which were also very interesting), but I still managed a few stints at the School of Music. As I was driving in, I laughed at a natty Cole Porter tune on the radio called Friendship: “If you ever lose your teeth / when you dine / borrow mine.” Luckily, it didn’t set the tone for the day.

First up was an orchestra rehearsal in Llewelyn Hall. They were working on Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto no. 1 in D, Op.19 . I was too far back to hear instructions, but it was obviously nothing like Fellini’s typically odd movie (Prova d’orchestra = Orchestra rehearsal); this was much more congenial and chatty.

Next was John Mackey’s Improvisation Workshop. Lots of good ideas here, and some nice solo sax demonstrations. He started with 276, our magic number. It’s a scary number indicating the vocabulary of scales that an improvisor should practice daily. I can’t recreate the exact number, but it includes the modes of the scale families (major, harmonic minor, melodic minor, perhaps harmonic major), whole tones, diminished H-W and W-H, blues, major and minor pentatonics, major and minor bebop; perhaps more. Through all the keys, of course: daunting. John also spoke of using a practice diary, organising time, slow practice with metronomes, sound development and time studies, use of piano, ear training, moving conscious to unconscious, ear training, scalar cells and permutations, 4 hours minimum practice for maintenance. He demonstrated improvisation on a phrase, as in Sonny Rollins on the Williamsburg Bridge. Some quotes took may fancy: “please transcribe”, “turning maths into music”, “no yummy stuff on top” (meaning, a simple arpeggio without extensions), “[music] can’t be contrived”. And to finish, he told of playing 6 hours pd for 3 years, and only using 6 reeds. How? He keeps them permanently dunked in water when not in use. I imagine John’s a great teacher: all very friendly and easygoing, but with an underlying deadly seriousness. As serious as your life.

I only caught short snippets of a few other performances. The Commercial Ensemble started with Thieves in the temple, a Prince tune that Herbie Hancock had performed on his New Standards album. I had to go off, but the band was sounding lively and exciting and I got a few pics before leaving. Same thing for an ANU Marimba ensemble later in the day, when I heard just a few bars of an encore.

I returned again later to catch the last half of Eric Ajaye and Col Hoorweg’s rhythm masterclass. By the time I got there, it was mainly Eric and Col playing, and this was typically impressive, especially one sweet freejazz piece with Col’s unique soundscapes and Eric’s bass playing free. Eric said before he started that he knew his first note would be a G and otherwise it was unplanned, although I did hear one clear and lengthy quote from Stella by starlight. The day ended with the Big Band in Llewelyn Hall. I expect all that new timber makes for a beautifully reverberent and alive sound space for strings and softer classical instruments, but I found it edgy and unbalanced for the Big Band. The brass was strident and overbearing, and the rhythm section and saxes were wanting. They tell me, from onstage, that the snare snaps back from the back wall (admittedly there was only a small audience). There were several solos that took my fancy (I especially remember Marie LeBrun’s vocal solo on Moondance, and a dual trumpet improv) and the band was capable, but the sound made the concert less satisfying. The message is “horses for courses”, I guess: use Llewelyn for what it’s best at.

Our jazz-supporting mates from ArtSound were there for the day, and I’ve added one pic of their crew relaxing at the end of the day. They do a great job.

Vertical, but laid back

Eric Ajaye returned to ArtSound last night with his new trio, Vertical.

I wondered if the name was a hint at Eric’s previous trio, Straight Up. But it’s really quite a different style from his last trio, despite featuring two common players: Eric and Chris Thwaite. Being a piano trio, the pianist will hugely influence the sound and approach of the band, and so it was. Paul dalBroi is the pianist and his style is deliberate and cerebral and investigative and exact, with sharp playing developing to long lines of crystal clear intention and very satisfying dissonance. He also provided several reharmonisations of more or less recent popular tunes, and this seemed fitting. Bernstein’s West Side Story classic, One hand one heart, was not unexpected, or even Singing in the rain. But Cyndi Lauper’s True colours and Raindrops keep falling on my head suggested an ability to hear possibilities. Like Herbie Hancock and Brad Mehldau and Bad Plus and others who have trawled the recent pop repertoire. (Has anyone done silverchair or Natalie Imbruglia at Moruya? We did Teen spirit two years ago.) And his reharmonisations turned obvious melodies and chords into interesting exercises.

Eric and Chris were impressive, too. Eric’s our greatly respected local bassist with the international pedigree. He plays with a very gentle and subtle tone that occasionally hints at a midrange edge, slides and chords frequently, intones with wonderful precision, and there’s an authority and majesty in his playing. I was taken aback by some scale fragments played as continuous slides that just seemed so perfect in time and intonation, and yet so hard to do. He played several solo passages to introduce tunes, and these were lovely low-down statements. His walks are mellifluous, and his solos strong and clear. Chris always seems to me the perfect rhythm accompanist. Always aware, always responsive, always appropriate, never intrusive. He took a few solos, but it was his brush work that seemed his most natural expression, and so fitting in this context.

I’ve mentioned various popular tunes above, but the band also plays originals. One tune each were claimed for Eric and Paul, but there were several others for which no provenance was mentioned.

This was the first performance of this band, and it bodes well. They will be performing at the Moruya Jazz Festival and a local conservatorium this year, and are presumably targeting the festival circuit for next year. I’m sure I’m not alone in looking forward to watching another excellent trio develop.

Vertical are Paul dalBroi (piano), Eric Ajaye (bass) and Chris Thwaite (drums)