Masters, young and old (DHJF-2)

It was Ron Carter who brought me to Sydney for the Darling Harbour Jazz Festival this year, but I’m a bass player and I know that plenty of guitarists came for Kurt Rosenwinkel. These are very big names and they were accompanied by other big names. Quite spectacular.

Firstly, Ron Carter. I was lucky enough to catch him twice: in the rain at DHJF and at the Basement the following night. He’s an absolute legend, of course, and I was not surprised or disappointed by his identifiable playing. Large hands, very lank and bony, and a sound that’s so hard it’s like concrete. This was stunning and unique. He’s not young and everyone was suffering from the cold, so the Basement show was the more comfortable, but both shows were impressive. This was sweet, correct, solid mainstream playing. I felt he struggled with a few things he attempted, from age or the cold, but I’d still dream of playing just a part of it with his authority and deceptive simplicity. Fabulous and so easily swinging with the most clear of bass lines that always served the tune as master. I was not the only one to notice how solid was the groove despite the lack of a drummer. This man is a rhythm unit in one performer and beautifully undemonstrative at that: deceptively simple and easily embellished. His offsiders were no slouches, of course. Mulgrew Miller was a delight with easily lyrical and occasionally dissonant statements that were so sweet and unforced, sliding off the fingers with no strain of performance or thought. This was the key: easy, comfortable improv and melody with the most perfect of swings. Guitarist Russell Malone was the youngster with an evident respect for his elders, but he was no underling. Always a ready smile and with eyes that caught every nuance, sharp and choppy backing and bluesy solos that again were deceptive in their intuitiveness. Wonderful, sharp and satisfying playing from the seniors of our art. The Ron Carter Trio are RC (bass), Mulgrew Miller (piano) and Russell Malone (guitar).

Secondly, Kurt Rosenwinkel. I’ve noticed how my guitarist mates speak in awe when KR’s name is mentioned, and I met a female bassist who’d flown from New Zealand to hear him, so KR is seriously admired. I’d heard him at Wang but in unfortunate acoustics. This time, I heard clearly and understood some of the excitement. This was Kurt’s Standards Trio with Eric Revis and Justin Falkiner. A formidable group. I noticed KR’s easy fluency and knowledge of the fingerboard, but that’s to be expected, but I also noticed a chordal approach that blended chords and melody or solos easily. His sound had some obvious gentle echo or reverb and occasional mild distortion, but essentially this was clearly spoken fluency, not effects. And the fluency was devastating at times. Solo lines covering three or more octaves seemed to drop with ease, and those fingers shaped into delightful chords and resolved into single note work. An object lesson in technique and a delight with clear sound. Both his associates took significant roles, especially drums, but I did feel that the guitar was clear leader. Eric Revis had a surprisingly soft tone, but maybe highlighted after hearing Ron Carter’s solidity. I’d been thinking of the training of some of the US drummers I’ve heard recently, especially given their concentration on snare and rudiments, but Justin was more tom-centred and thus softly sounding. Again, drums were easily concordant with the others, but this is perhaps the essence of a standards trio. The standards were Monk’s Reflections, Invitation, Goodbye pork pie hat, Bud Powell’s Blue pearl and Wayne Shorter’s Fall. A lesson in technique and gentle interaction. The Kurt Rosenwinkel Standards Trio are KR (guitar), Eric Revis (bass) and Justin Faulkner (drums).

Lastly, a mention of some big local names. Katie Noonan’s Elixir was supporting Ron Carter on his Australian tour and appeared early in the long night at the Basement. To me, Elixir continue the song tradition that predates jazz. Not surprising, given that Katie has classical training. This is a beautiful, mobile, soprano voice and wonderfully expressive of very thoughtful and considered words. There were some original compositions, but also several songs with words from poet Thomas Shapcott. The lyrics were superb, earthy, purposefully repeated, of love and life (to a woman pregnant; of love remembered semi-naked on a beach) with well-timed rough-hewn sensuality. Steve Magnusson’s accompanying guitar was precise with a sense of independent time that was formidable. Zac Hurren’s soprano sax was admirably restrained (I’ve seen him in full flight, and he can be a challenge) with lyrical lines and up-turned endings, but he did inject just a touch of dissonance towards the end. To my ear, this was sublime song in the long song tradition with just a touch of jazz influence. Elixir are Katie Noonan (vocals), Zac Hurren (soprano sax) and Steve Magnusson (guitar).

We are what we listen to (DHJF-1)

It was a formative weekend and it will take time to digest and document. I spent the weekend with a few mates in Sydney for the Darling Harbour Jazz & Blues Festival and also managed visits to 505 and The Basement. The names were prodigious and varied. I went to see Ron Carter (twice), caught Kurt Rosenwinkel, discovered Dan Tepfer and was floored by Jason Moran. These were the internationals. As for the locals, they were mostly old friends: wonderful, varied, entertaining and there was one unexpected delight, a strange but exhilarating amalgam of classical and jazz. It was a weekend of cold and rain which just added to the experience and memorability, although sadly not the audience. Darling Harbour would have been disappointed, but standing in the rain with the like-minded adds to the sense of community. It’s not quite war but it’s a meagre version of that common bond. I have movies of right-hand bass technique and 1378 pics/videos as a record but the effects are in my mind. Darling Harbour Jazz & Blues Festival and this weekend in Sydney’s jazz scene was a stunner and I feel humbled by the experience. It all ended with the most mind-bending of all, the awe-inspiring history and vision of Jason Moran leaving me pensive as I think through this weekend.

The Great Ron Carter

By Lee Hardwick

There are not many musicians performing today who have a legacy as legendary as Ron Carter. It is reported that he has appeared on over 2,500 recordings. Well, I can't personally vouch for them all, but there are a few recordings that I can vouch for. I've listened to a lot of jazz and funk records over the years, and there are of course many which hold a dear place in my heart. It's one thing to listen to and really enjoy a cracking good song or album from a great performer. But it's yet another thing still to have a song or album woven into the fabric of your life. Like an inspired purchase shortly before a big move, which becomes a soundtrack to a transitioning moment; a special connection forever on.

It is with awe that I contemplate just how many albums which fit this category and also Ron Carter feature on double bass. And his presence is always unmistakably evident. These include albums like My Funny Valentine; Miles in the Sky and Filles De Kilimanjaro - some of the pivotal, game changing albums Ron Carter recorded with Miles Davis. The later albums were part of the reason why the sixties were so far out & off the planet. The artwork alone suggests amazing visionary things.

Ron Carter also recorded with Herbie Hancock, Tony Williams and Wayne Shorter during the sixties for Blue Note Records, and was a sideman on many Blue Note recordings of the era, playing with Sam Rivers, Freddie Hubbard, Duke Pearson, Lee Morgan, McCoy Tyner, Andrew Hill, Horace Silver to name a few. After leaving Miles Davis in the late 60’s, he became a mainstay at CTI Records where he made albums under his own name and also appeared on many of the label's records in the 70's and 80's including with Joe Henderson, Houston Person, Hank Jones, and Cedar Walton. Ron Carter also appeared on some funk fusion classics like Billy Cobham’s Red Baron from his 1973 album Spectrum, and contributed to A Tribe Called Quest’s The Low End Theory in 1991.

Ron Carter was there, he was a witness and a participant to this amazing and enduring slice of history. And he is still here, and I am happy to say he is looking great, even if he was battling a cold on the night. His stature on stage was part of the awe. A full size double bass is an awesome spectacle in itself. It takes a very special skill set to master this particular instrument. And from the moment Ron Carter walked out onto the stage, you immediately understood the connection between the man and the instrument.

I can only describe my impression of Ron Carter as a graceful and elegant giant. Much like his instrument of choice, Ron's stature compared to other men was at the high end of the bell curve. And the power of the big man and the big instrument resulted in powerful music.

Ron Carter performed as a trio and managed to bring together the perfect combination of musicians for the festival performance. Also in the lineup was Mulgrew Miller (Tony Williams Quartet; Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers) on piano and Russell Malone (Diana Krall Trio; Harry Connick Junior Big Band) on guitar. The three of them have been long-term collaborators and it showed. Playing a combination of the classic repertoire he is famously associated with, and some of his more recent recordings as the Golden Strikers, the entire (sold-out) concert was a joy and an inspiration.

The Melbourne Recital Centre is a delight in itself, and a lot of effort has gone into developing a supreme acoustic experience. The Melbourne International Jazz Festival lasts for two weeks and many, like me, would have travelled to Melbourne especially for this event. I stayed for four days of the festival and enjoyed it immensely. My stay, coinciding with the Australian Burlesque Festival hosted at Red Bennies on Saturday Night, was a recipe for a most memorable weekend. Not to mention I also attended another great event hosted by Red Bennies during the Stonnington Jazz Festival two weeks ago. The Jelly Tub Rollers featured at this event, as did the beautiful Zelia & her Josephine Baker tribute. Check out the review by Red Jezebell.

I have a feeling that the Melbourne Jazz Festival has just become an annual pilgrimage, and many more legendary weekends are to be had.

Lee Hardwick's 50 Years of Funk

Botti as in goatie

Is it Botti as in goatie or Bottie as in tottie? I’m Italian so I was of the tottie (or Totti) persuasion, but the radio (ArtSound and ABCRN) was using Botti as in goatie. To my surprise, Chris Botti was to appear on Life Matters on ABC RN and the theme was toast: he’s such a traveller that he hadn’t toasted a slice of bread in 10 years, or for that matter, cooked anything. An itinerant troubadour, I thought, not sure I’d like that life. I like my morning toast with honey or perhaps jam. But my mind wanders further. To me, goaties signify beatnicks and the ‘50s and Maynard G Krebs and cellars and cool jazz and bongos and post-bop. Very cool. Is Chris Botti cool?

To my surprise, he was. There was considerable soft-pop in his show, Ave Maria with the longggggggg trumpet note, string pads, Nessun dorma (always stunning but who can trust such easy emotions), sexy suits and frocks, even a contortionist rock-cum-classical violinist. And lots of name dropping amongst the stage patter (Sting and Herbie Hancock and Rolling Stones and Grammies and 4.5 presidents). But that’s the style. This is not music for the initiated. This is jazz crossing over to popular styles so that’s all to be expected. It’s a tough market out there. There was also some decent funky playing, several Miles tracks, some great soul singing, a fabulous trumpet tone and some very lithe and clean lines and a certain amount of dissonance. It’s the same argument we had over George Benson and similar to those over Herbie Hancock and Bob Dylan. Yeah, the state of the art is somewhere else, but this approach spreads the word, brings in an audience (not that many will end up with the avant-garde) and fills theatres and stadiums not just clubs. And he didn’t just play standards with hot solos like some popular jazz names. This was a show. He went into the audience; he played to a 4-year old at his first jazz concert; he brought up an unexpecting student drummer, Rohan Moore, who had been at his workshop at ANU the day before (and treated him well); he chatted and involved the audience, and even infiltrated some jazz lore and history.

The repertoire was mixed opera-pop and standards. Ave Maria, Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, Cinema Paradiso, Nessun dorma. All infectious songs if often syrupy, but well-known and you can’t help but fall under their spells. The standards were equally attractive and mostly balladic - My funny valentine, Willow weep for me, The look of love, When I fall in love – done with funky energy or deep melodrama but always as showpieces. And Flamenco sketches from Kind of Blue with a very nice bass solo and an introduction that taught me something about Miles and Kind of Blue and that tune. As I said before, the trumpet was full and rounded and clear and rich with reverb and CB had impressive technique. Pianist Billy Childs was a lynchpin and played some very sophisticated jazz solos, although I couldn’t hear him too well. He was left of stage and I was right, and I’m guessing the PA was stereo. Andrew Ezrin on keys, Mark Whitfield on guitar, Carlitos Del Fuerto on bass and William Kilson on drums did commendable jobs and seemed to be having a great time. This band has been together for 7 years and there seemed to be real enjoyment on stage as well as a bit of tongue-in-cheek showmanship. I liked that. The features were Caroline Campbell on violin and Lisa Fischer on vocals. Caroline was sexy in a body-hugging evening dress that clung to her every frequent movement (pant pant). It’s all part of the show along with Chris’s natty suit and the shaved heads and some Jagger-like revealing leather. I don’t know violin, but her classical solo in a gypsy-like piece was well intoned over long intervals and all four strings at speed and certainly impressed me. Lisa was great soul singer with a large range, gospel inflections and a mic technique that was a revelation.

OK, so it’s not the bleeding edge, but there’s room for CB in my jazz universe. I’m happy to call Chris Botti cool. Chris Botti (trumpet) led a very entertaining jazz show band with Billy Childs (piano), Andrew Ezrin (keyboards), Mark Whitfield (guitar), Carlitos Del Fuerto (bass), William Kilson (drums) and feature front-liners Caroline Campbell (violin) and Lisa Fischer (vocals). Rohan Moore was called up for drum duties on Nessun dorma.

Backing Botti

The Sarah McKenzie Trio came up from Melbourne to open for Chris Botti. Opening is a hard spot, but she got a nice Steinway and a decent amount of space and she did a great job. Earthy blues, crisp vocals, sparse piano and a lively, chatty interaction with the audience is evidence of considerable maturity despite a young age. She had a Monday residency in Melbourne when she appeared at the Gods a year or so ago. Her comfort in presentation and calm, sparse playing tells me that she still does. She played a few popular standards – I remember Cry me a river and The way you look tonight – and at least one decent original, strangely sharing a title with a famed standard – Love me or leave me. This one surprised me with its maturity given she’d written it at age 16. She was supported by Leigh Barker, Canberra bassist made good in Melbourne, and drummer Andy Swan. Leigh’s a lovely player who solos easily and has a great line in slap and early jazz bass styles. This was a nicely comfortable opening set from someone who looks, sings and plays the part for obvious comparison with the recent wave of popular female jazz singers, although with a touch more blues grunt. My guess is that Sarah has the goods for a very decent career.

Knowing smile

Smile is a delightfully touching song. Charlie Chaplin must have been a polymath genius to have written such a tune as an aside to the rest of his oeuvre. It was a great way to start Sally Greenaway’s concert at the Gods. Sally was playing with Eric Ajaye and Gary France, so we have a cross section of styles and that’s how I heard the night. A travel through a wide repertoire of styles and sources performed in a pure and correct style, perhaps a classical-jazz fusion. This was more the jazz of MJQ - classic, correct, distilled - than the abandon of individualism and bebop and soloists. Sally’s solos betrayed her compositional bent. They were often chordal, with chromatic movements or substitutions that spoke of compositional options, although I did catch quite a few bluesy, growling lines betraying an earthy jazz sensibility. Eric was his classic lyrical self, with solo statements that conversed their way through pieces with deep, slurring lines and passing flourishes. I hadn’t heard much of Gary France. He’s of the classical percussion school, so the skills were prodigious and his sense of time was less swung. [I have since played with Gary and I can confirm he swings perfectly nicely. See my post of 25 Jan 2015 / Eric] He swapped between vibes and drum kit. I particularly enjoyed his vibes playing and his great ease of four-mallet melody.

This was formal tune-smithing. I particularly noticed the detailed dynamics that would swell or fade at the bar level and the quiet volume of the performance. Chamber music of the jazz repertoire and with a wide expanse of tunes: Chaplin to Tod Gustavsen and Keith Jarrett to Piazzolla and Pat Metheny and Maria Schneider to Bag’s groove and My romance. Sally presented this as trip through jazz geography and history. She’s a capable composer so I’d expected more originals, but it was not to be. This was more a gentle, composed, chamber view of favourite jazz tunes. It’s no surprise that I left Sally’s gig with a knowing smile rather than a lively step. The music was like that: distilled.

Sally Greenaway (piano) led a trio with Eric Ajaye (bass) and Gary France (vibraphone, drums) at the Gods.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Unsparing energy

Energetic commitment is a feeling I often get when big city visits Canberra, especially big jazz city New York. NYC was again visiting in the guise of the Jacam Manricks Quartet. I got the energy in spades with Eric Mcpherson’s solos, which started with intensity and exhilaration and ramped up from there, but Linda Oh showed it equally although not as evidently as a drummer can. Jacam Manricks was leader. He’s also infused in the Manhattan vibe, but he’s calmer, more crisp and intellectual, although not without a certain extravagance, and Australian Jackson Harrison also took to the excitement, although not with Eric’s take-no-prisoners commitment. Jacam’s music is like his playing: richly informed and of the mind. It launches with long solos and intense crescendos, but it’s not a music of abandon. Jacam is a teacher and holds a high level academic degree in music and you hear it in his care and consideration. I heard it once in an introduction to a tune which was formed from two standards that he’d accidentally merged on a gig. The outcome was a new tune that was a reharmonisation with new melody and which combined the essence of the two original standards. This is not Mingus and the blues; this is more a music of considered options like Shoenberg and his tonal system. There is much logic in music and I hear it here.

And what playing! Eric Mcpherson just exploded on drums. He was sharp and snare-staccato on accompaniment, but was unstoppable in solos. And those strange plastic spatulas for sticks: handles with a flat inverted-V shape for the stick end that he’d swap to change tone, something like stick to brush. Similarly Linda Oh was concentration and commitment, showing her NY-residency of 5 years. A mate asked jokingly how many fingers she had. Certainly, she was busy. I noticed lots of open strings and large intervals: her solo style is efficient and the sound was busier than the fingers needed to be. This was clever playing with a sweeping tonality. Jacam was the sharp, tutored altoist. Absolutely correct; changes spot on the barline; clear thought and the most precise tone; lines dropping around the listener with beguiling ease. This was clinical playing and a lesson in precision: cool and with dignified, even austere emotions. I also enjoyed Jackson Harrison’s staccato but continually responsive accompaniment as it moved bar by bar with Jacam’s alto solos. So, a challenging and energetic night as NYC came in from the (Canberra) cold. It’s always a pleasure when Jacam and his NYC offsiders visit. Jacam Manricks (alto, compositions) led a quartet with Jackson Harrison (piano), Linda Oh (bass) and Eric Mcpherson (drums) at the University of Canberra.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Boundaries of the art

The best of the advanced students get into some very challenging music in the later years of their studies and Reuben Lewis’ band was no exception. I don’t find it at all unexpected. For all its glory, musicians can become jaded by the standards repertoire and swing. They’ve done it, heard it, and they have skills and interest to explore the wilder boundaries. The new may not be the music they’ll be making money from, but it’s intriguing and a challenge and there’s an audience that’s passed through a similar history and is there with them. It’s a small and perhaps an exclusive group but it’s willing and beguiled.

The extremities were compositional exercises by Reuben and were mostly unnamed, as such experiments often are. There were two “fragments” (Fragments no.4 and Fragments 2 no.1) that were sketches supporting improvisation. There was an experiment in duration that had a chart a mile long and a stopwatch (timed to 6m52s, I think). Each player knew when to play (eg, play 3m42s-4m03s, play again 4m57s-6m41s) but not what to play, so listening was key. As I understood, Reuben will develop that chart with dynamics and the like, but with no indication of pitch or harmony, and document the development of the piece as his Honours thesis. Another piece sounded similarly free, but followed Reuben handing out an A4 sheet to each player, folded in 8 and obviously first seen then and there. This was all difficult and all intriguing, and it could have been a flop with unable players, but it wasn’t. It had a musical sensibility and involvement that I enjoyed as did some others I spoke to. Nicely done. But it was not all at the icy extremities. There was groove and even some intensely lyrical beauty. Simon provided a latin tune and a reggae. Both sat with long sustained bass ostinatos. The latin was nicely tense with solos that grew with long crescendos and the reggae was more steady and bouncy. I liked them both. And the beauty of the night was Luke’s Just a minute, with long harmonised horn tones, billowing but sparse bass notes, a shimmering background and a sparse melody. I found this a stunner.

I especially noticed some solos by Reuben (sometimes quite experimental with various mutes and other times good solid post-bop lines) and by Max and very sympathetic playing from the horns in unison and harmony. Also some very modern sounding solo piano and a funky organ on the reggae from Luke, considerable percussion from Aidan (the grooves were quite gentle) and a wonderfully rounded but present tone from Simon’s bass. Reuben Lewis (trumpet) led a quintet with Max Williams (tenor sax), Luke Sweeting (piano, organ), Simon Milman (bass) and Aidan Lowe (drums, percussion).

Cyberhalides

Out and about

Just some pics of recent days. Firstly, an amusing bit of street art around the Jazz School. Then Gossips with Liam Budge. Leanne was getting over the flu and Liam happened to drop by, so we got him to sit in for a set. Good hard swings, some live transposition (good for the ear) and nice singing and scatting. Thanks to Liam. Lastly, one of 1927 Bar last Friday with host Leonardo.

Month of Sundays

Month of Sundays was the title of a series of programs on our local ABC radio station, ABC666: four 2-hour Sunday specials on music in Canberra. There were sessions on jazz and rock and folk, so I guess we were talking of popular forms. I’m not sure if classical or choral got their time. The jazz special was the last of the series and I got asked to appear. David Sequeria presented and Melanie Sim produced a very interesting morning with an apt selection of guests. First was John Sharpe, author of Cool capital : the Canberra jazz scene, 1925-2005 (2006) and other works of jazz history, followed by Rachael Thoms and Luke Sweeting talking of their musicians’ life. I found their comments about current streams of jazz very interesting, along with the tracks they played from Rachael’s soon-to-be-released album. Miroslav Bukovsky then spoke of his story in jazz, from Czechoslovakia and 1968 and the Prague Spring to Australia. Miro has been close to many significant bands and happenings in Australia jazz for several decades. Then me on CanberraJazz.net and the current scene around town, Chris Deacon on ArtSound and its long-term contribution to jazz in Canberra, and to finish off, Margaret Moriarty on the trad scene and the Canberra Jazz Club. The chat was interspersed with some great music. I particularly remember one wordless vocal tune by Rachael/Luke and One for Woody by Ten Part Invention, but I only heard some of the program, having tuned in late and needing to rush off after. Jazz is a small community (perhaps 500 people in Canberra) but it’s committed to its art and it’s composed of the sort of people who will commit to something beyond immediate gratification. And it’s inviting. David and Melanie noticed that everyone knew each other and were chatting outside the studio before and after their broadcast times. It’s like that. Thanks to ABC666 for the opportunity to spread the word.

Loft doubler

There were two acts at the last Loft session and quite different: Liam Budge with his intense and mellifluous vocals and a very comfy but inventive quartet, and Jono Lake playing a fusion of jazz and impressionism to launch his new solo piano CD. About as different as you could imagine, really.

First, Liam. From the first staccato notes of Squeeze me, his music was smooth and stylish. This characterisation can be deceptive because it’s seldom associated with depth in our too-commercial society, but this music was rich with invention and deep with feeling. Liam appeared in great style with a nonchalant but imposing presence. The band sat beautifully and appropriately behind him. The swings oozed groove: Luke’s piano sitting well behind the beat and Raf’s bass right over the top for a wave of swing that was ever breaking over the audience. Liam’s voice weaved through and toyed with the lines, delaying melody then breaking with quick passages, perhaps high whistles or dropping into scat. Luke’s solos moved within chords and through dissonances and Raf’s bass solos were long and lyrical and unforced, up the neck for extended thumb position lines then down with double stops. All the while with a steady, cool drum backing from Luke 2. Liam sang one original, a drifting 5/4 entitled Stop this train. Notable to me was the gentle and soulful version of Hendrix’ Little Wing (instantly recognised by a few of the older attendees) and a heavily insistent take on Bye bye blackbird in 7/4 (apparently thanks to Luke 1 for that one). He also did a take on Long ago and far away as a piano/vocal duo and an easy Tenor madness to finish up. It’s a nice throwaway that swung easily from the top. Max Williams sat in on tenor developing from easy hard-bop blues lines to rich substitutions. And Raf’s bass solo was a killer. This was a wonderfully entertaining and engrossing set (singers do that) and with some really satisfying depth to the playing.

Second, Jono Lake. From the irony of jazz lyrics to the intense solidity of grand piano and the emotional involvement of solo improvisation. Jono leads and composes for his wonderfully inventive Lakeside Circus and I’ve written about them here before. This is the composer as improviser. No doubt there is composition underlying these tunes, but the effect and immediacy of improvisation is laid bare here. The first tune was pensive and later Russian in scope and mood. The piano needed a good tuning, but the seriousness of it all was clear to hear. I expected similar for later tunes so I was surprised by what was a fairly pleasant tonal piece with straightforward interpretation for the second tune, although it, too, flirted with intensity. The third was more an impressionist solo hinting of occasional jazz syncopations. The fourth was similarly impressionistic but this time developing to a heavy, contorted stride. The final was open and thoughtful and filmic and started with something like a loose left hand ostinato but developing as mohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifre indeterminate. I lost myself in the solidity of a solo grand piano with the piercing probing of dissonant impressionism. This is compositional inquest as improvisational immediacy and I enjoyed it immensely.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a quartet with Luke Sweeting (piano), Rafael Jerjen (bass) and Luke Keanan-Brown (drums). Max Williams (tenor) sat in for two tunes. Jono Lake (piano) followed with a solo set to launch his new CD.

Cyberhalides