Last night I had a dream I was at a Herbie Hancock concert, for some reason being held at a youth hostel in the middle of an enormous lake. I have a vague idea of who reads this, so I can say with confidence, most of you were there, and you seemed to enjoy the music. Oddly, Ed Feast, a friend of mine from Grantham, was the featured pianist, rather than the named artist. Herbie was using his guitar-keyboard-thingy mostly. Afterwards, Herbie and I were sailing a dinghy, and I asked if he'd let me come over to the US some time and jam with him, Lionel Loueke, and the rest of his band. "I know the bassline to Chameleon and everything". He said "No way, man!" which on reflection, is probably what he would say in real life.



It's odd. Last time, indeed the only time, I saw Herbie play, I was generally speaking buried in Access queries and spreadsheets with no idea of how to escape. A few days later, (5 days to be precise) I decided to escape here, to Australia. Right now, I'm working for a company who asked for a data entry clerk and got me. As a result of a little problem-solving and time-saving I've been doing for them, I'm buried in Access queries and spreadsheets again, largely of my own free will. So maybe, in a roundabout way, the dream was trying to tell me I was actually quite happy being buried in Access and Excel problems, and that despite moving to the other side of the planet, I seem to have sought out more of the same. Or maybe that's far too tenuous a connection and, as usual, I'm thinking about things too much.



Either way, it was just nice to be on a sailing boat with one of my favourite musicians.

Labels: Dreams, Jazz

You may have noticed I've been a bit quiet on here recently. I'm actually out of Sydney and around various bits of Australia at the moment, doing travelling for real, rather than the home away from home I had in Sydney. It's proving both challenging and rewarding so far, and I'm very excited about the 6 day tour to Alice I have booked for Wednesday, and the prospect of the National Parks around Darwin. I'll be back in Sydney and writing about James Morrison at the Basement, Alec and Michelle's wedding and Elissa and my trip to Singapore, and all of the WA and NT stuff, from 4th October, so if you're checking back more than once a month, probably best not to bother til then.... Thanks for reading!

Labels: Australia, Jazz, Singapore, Travel

Last Thursday I went to see James Morrison. Not the British singer-songwriter (who I always took as being a bit polished and pop, perhaps unfairly) but the Australian jazz trumpet legend. He and Ambre Hammond, a pianist of high standing, were playing a double symphony written specially for them, by Lalo Schifrin, a world-renowned composer, conductor, pianist, but who is perhaps best known for the theme to Mission:Impossible! Before the symphony we were treated to the Australian debut of two suites of Schifrin's orchestral music, played by the Sydney symphony, all excellent stuff (though as someone with a limited experience of orchestral music I don't have much to say on it). Then the soloists came out, and showed some incredible skills on their instruments, and the music was at times energetic and compelling, at times gentle and emotional, and swung from the classical to the jazz to, well, all sorts of stuff. Again, it was great to see people perform who are really, really good at what they do. But my favourite bit was the encores.



James Morrison and Ambre Hammond came back on to play an unaccompanied version of Basin Street Blues. Morrison played part of the theme with one finger, towards the end, and Hammond played a jazz improv-style solo, interspersed with some big Romantic piano chord runs. As if that wasn't enough, Morrison and Schifrin came on afterwards and played Theme from Mission:Impossible to us, Schifrin on the piano (a little shaky and out of time but pretty solid for a 75 year old) and Morrison playing the melody on the trumpet. The orchestra seemed pretty ready for it.



I really like these free Opera House tickets.

Labels: Australia, Culchar, Gigs, Jazz

Labels: Australia, Culchar, Gigs, Jazz

Herbie was playing in Sydney on Tuesday and Wednesday and I was sorely tempted to go and see him. He plays a mean show. What I did get that I didn't get in London, though, was excitement from the city that someone like him was visiting. Well, I mean he got a TV interview, anyway, which is more than he'd get in London. In it, he was asked as always about playing with Miles. (I'm the only one who would ask him about playing with Jaco, obviously. Or with the multitude of other people he's played with).

Miles Davis is a huge figure in jazz. To some, he's the only figure in jazz. People who own nothing but pop-rock-guitar stuff often turn out to have a copy of Kind Of Blue hidden away somewhere. Every major shift in what jazz is since 1950 has come either straight from Miles, indirectly from Miles or straight from someone who learned everything they knew from Miles. Herbie never gets tired of talking about him, as far as I can tell. He said "Most musicians would give their right arm just to be able to play some of Miles' mistakes; he was that good".

I'm still learning to play some of Herbie's bassist's mistakes. But I've got both my arms, and I've still got the $125 it would have cost to see Herbie again.

Labels: Australia, Jazz, My music

I was told by both people I went with, independently and together, what excellent acoustics the Esplanade complex (picture right) has. Presumably this applies to all the parts of it, but the concert hall was definitely sounding pretty good this evening. We arrived to be informed that we were moved from the circle to the second row in the stalls. "Excellent" we thought, "$150 seats for $60 a piece". Sadly the nearly-front-row seats just meant we wouldn't be able to see Chick and Gaty's hands, and the aforementioned acoustics (some of the best in the world) meant we weren't gaining anything even on the "worst" seats in terms of sound quality. We moved to the dress circle in the interval, helped by the friendly staff.

I have never seen someone play the vibraphone before, but something tells me I won' see it played like that again. Gary Burton had some spectacular solos, improvisations over complex and innovative (well done Chick) chord progressions in a variety of styles from flamenco and tango to chinstrokey jazz and just good fun bluesy jazz, and didn't break a sweat (thanks in part to air-conditioning, I can tell you). Chick, as Michelle said, made some very challenging piano playing look effortless. The sound they made got a bit tired for me halfway through, though the hardcore fans cheered every piece at start and finished and applauded every exceptional solo (all of them actually, even though good grammar probably doesn't allow that). But some life was injected into it at the end - one piece involved percussion introduction (both performers tapping the piano) and another started with the audience clicking their fingers. The last number involved both performers on the vibraphone (Chick unsurprisingly competent - if it's laid out a bit like a keyboard, he can play it), and had the crowd cheering from the start. A standing ovation for a duo who hadn't recorded an album for 13 years, from an audience crying out for the next one, at a venue I'm looking forward to visiting again on Sunday.

Labels: Gigs, Jazz, Singapore, Travel

Labels: Abel + Cole, Jazz, My music

Last night my Shadows and Light DVD arrived, with a couple of books, and I settled down to watch it, happy that I'd finally be able to watch my favourite musician as well as listen. I was utterly delighted to see that there was a Jaco solo on the DVD! Happy though I was, it's kind of sad to think I'm never going to get any closer to seeing him live for real.

On reflection, though, I should probably have bought this. Must pay more attention.

Labels: Gigs, Jazz

Herbert "Mwandishi" Hancock, the man I and, I'm sure, many others consider the greatest living musician, played his socks off at the Camden Roundhouse last night. Kicking off at the keyboard with Watermelon Man, with a searing funk intro and a solo on one of those keyboard/guitar hybrids, the opening number left little room to crescendo, but like the consumate professional and the incredible performer he is, Herbie managed it. His guitarist was astounding too, playing a solo piece for a while where he sampled and built up his own backing, and through the wonder of modern technology, harmonised with his own singing. The drummer played some unparalleled solos, switching from straight time to offbeats to triple time and never losing an ounce of the rhythm. The bassist didn't solo, but he sang a haunting version of 'I Just Called To Say I Love You', and another couple of numbers, with a really powerful, soulful voice and some excellent vocal harmonies with the guitarist.

Cantaloupe Island was an obvious highlight, with more breathtaking keyboard solos from Hancock. When they finished a two hour set, the crowd cried out for more. We only got one encore, but no one would complain about twenty minutes of Chameleon - with the bassist pulling his inimitable jazz face, the guitarist playing lines that would put Hendrix to shame without breaking a sweat, and Herbie just being Herbie. The three of the played a kind of jazz Chicken, daring the others to go closer and closer to their limits, and pulling away just in time, for them and the crowd. I swear I'll never see a gig like it again.

If The Flaming Lips on Tuesday is anything as good as that, I may not make it to work on Wednesday.

Labels: Gigs, Jazz

Last night Debbie, Claudia and I had excellent dinner, with Sainsburys providing the sushi and collaborating with me on the Thai Green Curry, Debbie providing an excellent dessert, in the form of Triple Chocolate Gateau, and Claudia providing a nice bottle of organic rose. We chatted about the idea of a 20ft hedgehog made of broccoli (in the vein of The Sultan's Elephant) and how on earth it's possible to jump into a bush in Mile End and suddenly find yourself falling 12ft to the ground.

After Claudia turned in and Debbie went home, I spent a few minutes sorting through CDs - my recent purchases were beginning to pile up after Virgin had a jazz clearance at £1.99 a CD. As it turns out, I now own 9 Herbie Hancock albums, 12 Miles Davis albums and 9 CDs where Jaco Pastorius is the bassist. Apparently Herbie has another 40 albums for me to find... Parhaps I'll pick some up in China next week.

Labels: Dinner parties, Jazz

Easily our best one yet. Some excellent songs (both vocalists outdid themselves), some great instrumentals (although the crowd did talk through most of them), a particularly nice rendition of Brubeck's 'Unsquare Dance', with the audience clapping, a great improvised blues thing, in a direction we've never taken it in before, and some very nicely judged percussion solos. All in all, plenty to be proud of. The next one will be outdoors with any luck!

Labels: Jazz, My music

I really like jazz. But I think I like the sort of jazz that would be Steps or Westlife if it was pop. Well maybe the Beatles or Sting or someone. You know, reasonably credible, but not 'specialist'.

Waiting on Dwarfs are distinctly specialist, so we stood at the back of the room and drank lots of red wine. Some muscial highlights included a couple of very nicely executed bass solos, and discovering that the reason I thought it was a viola was because the violinist was so little - though a friend of his suggested it was because I would normally have seen him in the Royal Albert Hall, and not a little room in Dalston. The second set was more crowd pleasing, but it's all relative. If you want something challenging and unusual in your jazz, go and see them. If, like me, you want something to tap your foot to, or unlike me, something to dance to, don't.

Later, we went to the Dalston Jazz Bar, where there was much grabbing of groin, and uttering of 'J'habite'. I cannot satisfactorily explain why.

Labels: Gigs, Jazz

Aside from the lovely Braunwin visiting me for the last few weeks, one of July's highlights for me was the Ealing Jazz Festival. It all kicked off with a day by the F-ire Collective, including the obviously-talented-but-not-my-style Norma Winstone, a quartet with a french guitarist who were very impressive and Polar Bear, who I am very keen to see again. They were slightly quirky modern jazz with funny computer noises over the top, though I'm sure afficionados have a better description. Synergy topped the day off, with a brief appearance by Rhythms of the City, a samba band. By this time, I had sadly descended into gin, so I don't recall much of it.

Tuesday saw a nice septet play some excellent tunes, followed by Ray Gelato, who was as crowd pleasing as ever.

Thursday also saw a smaller ensemble playing a few tunes, and then a Jazz Orchestra playing some specially commissioned tunes. It made me realise just how far from the mark we were at UCL when the big band played. (Not to say we weren't any good, we were, we just weren't professionals...)

Sadly, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday were missed, but all looked like they had excellent lineups and would have been worth a journey. Saturday was a great finish to my week, anyway, with Butchers Brew, Tenor Each Way and the Alan Elsdon All Stars (sadly minus Alan Elsdon himself) giving an excellent demonstration of why Ealing is fast becoming my favourite festival (yes, I know, and I mean it too. You don't have to pay £125 to get in and you don't have to worry about the weather!)

It was a bit of a shame that more of you couldn't make it. Thanks to those who came, I hope you all found it worth your while. Everyone else, please don't miss the opportunity next year, you just won't see jazz like this for free anywhere else, and even when you've given your £20 to Ronnie Scott's estate, the atmosphere in Ealing is so much more laid back - it's got to be worth one ticket to Zone 3, just to see. And worth one slightly moderate Friday/Saturday evening so you can get out of bed in time to get there...

Labels: Gigs, Jazz

I have Jaco Pastorius' solo of Amerika rattling round my head for some reason today. It's full of harmonics and interesting noises, driving rhythms and dexterous fingers. Apart from the last one, I hope New York will be much the same.

Labels: Jazz