The founding rock 'n' roll drummer is gone. Earl Palmer, the New Orleans drummer on the seminal Little Richard and Fats Domino singles, as well as lesser known New Orleans R&B tunes of the period, died this weekend at the age of 84. The jazz blogosphere has often dealt with the issue of groove, rhythmic authority, etc.: Palmer wrote the modern book on it. The early rock 'n' roll groove, a derivative of New Orleans second line drumming in Palmer's hands, is semi-swung and semi-straight. Many younger drummers miss this nuance, playing straight eighths and the groove is robbed of its momentum. I could listen to, and play, that feel all night.
I can't even remember the first time I heard an Earl Palmer beat; my parents raised me on the "oldies" station and so the classic Little Richard and Fats Domino sides were etched in my memory from an early age. When I started getting into New Orleans R&B in high school, and first heard the name Earl Palmer as dropped by Stanton Moore of Galactic, I found him on various Allen Toussaint and Dave Bartholomew tunes, too. I gained an entirely new level of appreciation for songs like "Tutti Frutti" and "Long Tall Sally," whose rhythms I had taken for granted. May Mr. Palmer's beats live on in eternity.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
More stolen goods
When I was going down to New York, great players would drop by the jam sessions at Smoke & Cleo's. One night at Cleo's, the sharp-dressed and sharp-playing Wayne Escoffery showed up. It pains me to pass this along:
...On Thursday (September 11, 2008), we - in a rush - hailed a white Lincoln gypsy cab in front of our Harlem apartment at 153rd and Saint Nicholas Place, packed our son and my horn to go downtown for some family time while I brought my saxophone in for some quick repairs. Two minutes after exiting the cab in midtown, we realized the unthinkable had happened! We had left my irreplaceable 1951 Super Balanced Action Tenor Saxophone in the trunk of the car--a car that had no company name or any identifying logos. The only details of note were that the car was an older white Lincoln and the driver was female.
Because no two horns are alike, the instrument a musician chooses to use becomes an indispensable part of his or her sound. It is impossible to re-create the horn, especially one that is as old as this particular saxophone. It's value therefore is not only monetary, but artistic. My #9 NY Otto Link mouthpiece was also in the case.
This is the only instrument I have used for the past 8 years, and I have used the mouthpiece for as long as I can remember. The saxophone and piece are an indispensable part of my sound and now they are gone. But I truly hope and pray they might be returned.
We got the car at 153rd and Saint Nicholas Place and took it to 50th street and 7th ave. at 1pm on Thursday September 11th 2008. We have spent the last days reaching out to drivers and dispatchers in our neighborhood in the hopes of locating the driver and retrieving the horn, but have had no luck. Please keep a lookout and any help you can offer is much appreciated - and will be rewarded!
Thank You,
Wayne
917-353-7733
wayne.escoffery@verizon.net
...On Thursday (September 11, 2008), we - in a rush - hailed a white Lincoln gypsy cab in front of our Harlem apartment at 153rd and Saint Nicholas Place, packed our son and my horn to go downtown for some family time while I brought my saxophone in for some quick repairs. Two minutes after exiting the cab in midtown, we realized the unthinkable had happened! We had left my irreplaceable 1951 Super Balanced Action Tenor Saxophone in the trunk of the car--a car that had no company name or any identifying logos. The only details of note were that the car was an older white Lincoln and the driver was female.
Because no two horns are alike, the instrument a musician chooses to use becomes an indispensable part of his or her sound. It is impossible to re-create the horn, especially one that is as old as this particular saxophone. It's value therefore is not only monetary, but artistic. My #9 NY Otto Link mouthpiece was also in the case.
This is the only instrument I have used for the past 8 years, and I have used the mouthpiece for as long as I can remember. The saxophone and piece are an indispensable part of my sound and now they are gone. But I truly hope and pray they might be returned.
We got the car at 153rd and Saint Nicholas Place and took it to 50th street and 7th ave. at 1pm on Thursday September 11th 2008. We have spent the last days reaching out to drivers and dispatchers in our neighborhood in the hopes of locating the driver and retrieving the horn, but have had no luck. Please keep a lookout and any help you can offer is much appreciated - and will be rewarded!
Thank You,
Wayne
917-353-7733
wayne.escoffery@verizon.net
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Remember Griffintown
Griffintown is the name given to the area of Montreal west of Old Montreal, south of downtown. Historically it's been home to immigrants - first the Irish, and later Jewish, Italian, and African-Canadian communities (the last probably due to spillover from St-Henri and Little Burgundy). In the 1960s, it turned into an industrial ghost town, the facades of which still remain. Nowadays it's home to artist loft spaces and low-income housing - some reports place half the population of Griffintown under the poverty line.
At some point in 2007, Devimco thought it would be a good idea to uproot the entire Griffintown community to make way for strip malls, chain cafés and other markings of suburbia. My biggest issue with the whole process is that the residents of Griffintown were never consulted in the process; the Tremblay administration rubber-stamped Devimco's plans, hoping nobody would get wind of it, or at least that nobody would mind. It doesn't make much economic sense either - Devimco's last project, the Dix30 in Brossard, is just barely complete and finding its feet; and the western edge of downtown, from Guy over to Atwater, has been in dire straits for years. The neighbourhood wouldn't be able to sustain the development planned for it, and it would wreak havoc not just on Griffintown but on the aforementioned strip of Ste-Catherine.
A couple of Concordia students, in conjunction with Indyish, threw a protest/awareness festival called Remember Griffintown this weekend, with walking tours and scavenger hunts through the hood, gumboots demonstrations, a makeshift art gallery in a dilapidated cave, and stellar indie artists in the tent. Luckily, Devimco has been struggling to find investors for the project which has bought residents and protesters some time. And while the neighbourhood is maligned as a somewhat sketchy and low-rent part of town, it holds some of Montreal's most colourful history. I cringe to see it steamrolled by a half-baked development project.
At some point in 2007, Devimco thought it would be a good idea to uproot the entire Griffintown community to make way for strip malls, chain cafés and other markings of suburbia. My biggest issue with the whole process is that the residents of Griffintown were never consulted in the process; the Tremblay administration rubber-stamped Devimco's plans, hoping nobody would get wind of it, or at least that nobody would mind. It doesn't make much economic sense either - Devimco's last project, the Dix30 in Brossard, is just barely complete and finding its feet; and the western edge of downtown, from Guy over to Atwater, has been in dire straits for years. The neighbourhood wouldn't be able to sustain the development planned for it, and it would wreak havoc not just on Griffintown but on the aforementioned strip of Ste-Catherine.
A couple of Concordia students, in conjunction with Indyish, threw a protest/awareness festival called Remember Griffintown this weekend, with walking tours and scavenger hunts through the hood, gumboots demonstrations, a makeshift art gallery in a dilapidated cave, and stellar indie artists in the tent. Luckily, Devimco has been struggling to find investors for the project which has bought residents and protesters some time. And while the neighbourhood is maligned as a somewhat sketchy and low-rent part of town, it holds some of Montreal's most colourful history. I cringe to see it steamrolled by a half-baked development project.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Cinematic Orchestra - Club Soda, 08/30/2008
Jason Swinscoe and his band of Brits touched down at Club Soda, appropriately enough, during the final weekend of the World Film Festival. I'm not that familiar with their music, having only listened to Man With a Movie Camera a couple of times, but I'm always curious how electronic musicians transfer their creations to live settings. This is especially heightened with Swinscoe, whose productions are reliant on jazz samples and live vocals.
Opener Grey Reverend, by his own repeated admission, had had too much to drink on the short flight from Brooklyn. I wouldn't mind seeing him again in a more sober set to make a fuller judgement. He's a solid guitar player, though I found his lyrics to be overly wordy and filled with self-conscious attempts at abstract imagery ("cauliflower girls and olive-skinned boys" was the only line I remember, and actually not quite as fraught with word games as the opening tune). His vocal delivery tempered an indie-folk style with the laidback drawl of Jack Johnson. The best song of the set, to me, was a tune called "Belafonte," with a strongly delivered melody, great rhythm guitar playing, and a rein on the Reverend's lyrics.
Once I got over the punishing subwoofer volume, with the kick drum and electric upright vibrating my chest and teeth, the details of the Cinematic Orchestra were quite provocative. Many of the tunes were started by Swinscoe, triggering a loop or arpeggiated figure from his laptop, and he'd be joined in the build-up by the rest of the band, who would gradually overtake him. It was really a case of presence being emphasized by absence - Swinscoe didn't feel the need to trample over the high-calibre band with his electronics. Nick Ramm's Nord Lead, Stuart McCallum's guitar ambiences combined with Swinscoe for lush textures. Featured vocalists were Reverend, Heidi Vogel with her soulful, honeyed alto, and "surprise guest" Patrick Watson. Watson was a guest last time the Cinematics rolled through town, and has a spot on the album Ma Fleur, and unleashed his delay-laden falsetto to heartbreaking effect, as usual. The highlights, for me, came when the band broke down to the quartet of Ramm, McCallum, bassist Phil France and drummer Luke Flowers. Saxophonist Tom Chant had a couple of solos, but his role was mostly blending in with the horn samples on the heads - he seemed content to let Ramm do most of the heavy improvisational lifting.
The fact that many of the tunes were in 5/4 or 7/4 with tremendously strong melodies called to mind jazz performer/composers that deal in similar sensibilities - Aaron Parks' Invisible Cinema, for one, and David Binney's work on Balance, South and Welcome to Life. I wonder what kind of overlap exists there - whether Swinscoe was inspired by Binney, or vice-versa, or whether they exist independent of each other and it's just artistic coincidence.
Other observations:
- To the very eager, older gentleman behind me who insisted on being conspicuous in his applause, his adulation for Patrick Watson, and incessantly repeating "My hands, my hands" during Grey Reverend's tune of the same name: I'm happy you're in late middle age, know who the Cinematics are and still go out to shows, but chill out. Please.
- A note to promoters and venues: it's nice to let journalists, especially photographers, know the rules of engagement before the set starts. My show-partner was repeatedly questioned as to why she had a camera, and unflinchingly gave her name and her outlet. She was escorted into the foyer of Club Soda by security to prove her identity, missing Patrick Watson's guest spot. If you're only allowed to snap the first three songs, it's nice to know that before the first three songs.
Opener Grey Reverend, by his own repeated admission, had had too much to drink on the short flight from Brooklyn. I wouldn't mind seeing him again in a more sober set to make a fuller judgement. He's a solid guitar player, though I found his lyrics to be overly wordy and filled with self-conscious attempts at abstract imagery ("cauliflower girls and olive-skinned boys" was the only line I remember, and actually not quite as fraught with word games as the opening tune). His vocal delivery tempered an indie-folk style with the laidback drawl of Jack Johnson. The best song of the set, to me, was a tune called "Belafonte," with a strongly delivered melody, great rhythm guitar playing, and a rein on the Reverend's lyrics.
Once I got over the punishing subwoofer volume, with the kick drum and electric upright vibrating my chest and teeth, the details of the Cinematic Orchestra were quite provocative. Many of the tunes were started by Swinscoe, triggering a loop or arpeggiated figure from his laptop, and he'd be joined in the build-up by the rest of the band, who would gradually overtake him. It was really a case of presence being emphasized by absence - Swinscoe didn't feel the need to trample over the high-calibre band with his electronics. Nick Ramm's Nord Lead, Stuart McCallum's guitar ambiences combined with Swinscoe for lush textures. Featured vocalists were Reverend, Heidi Vogel with her soulful, honeyed alto, and "surprise guest" Patrick Watson. Watson was a guest last time the Cinematics rolled through town, and has a spot on the album Ma Fleur, and unleashed his delay-laden falsetto to heartbreaking effect, as usual. The highlights, for me, came when the band broke down to the quartet of Ramm, McCallum, bassist Phil France and drummer Luke Flowers. Saxophonist Tom Chant had a couple of solos, but his role was mostly blending in with the horn samples on the heads - he seemed content to let Ramm do most of the heavy improvisational lifting.
The fact that many of the tunes were in 5/4 or 7/4 with tremendously strong melodies called to mind jazz performer/composers that deal in similar sensibilities - Aaron Parks' Invisible Cinema, for one, and David Binney's work on Balance, South and Welcome to Life. I wonder what kind of overlap exists there - whether Swinscoe was inspired by Binney, or vice-versa, or whether they exist independent of each other and it's just artistic coincidence.
Other observations:
- To the very eager, older gentleman behind me who insisted on being conspicuous in his applause, his adulation for Patrick Watson, and incessantly repeating "My hands, my hands" during Grey Reverend's tune of the same name: I'm happy you're in late middle age, know who the Cinematics are and still go out to shows, but chill out. Please.
- A note to promoters and venues: it's nice to let journalists, especially photographers, know the rules of engagement before the set starts. My show-partner was repeatedly questioned as to why she had a camera, and unflinchingly gave her name and her outlet. She was escorted into the foyer of Club Soda by security to prove her identity, missing Patrick Watson's guest spot. If you're only allowed to snap the first three songs, it's nice to know that before the first three songs.
Friday, August 29, 2008
More on the cuts
Peter Hum of the Ottawa Citizen on how Canadian jazz musicians have been affected by the PromArt cuts.
The funding cuts have opened the whole can of worms on whether government funding for the arts should exist at all or whether the market will bear the support of art. One letter-writer to the Gazette seems to think that the free market will support worthy artists and that those of us who apply for grants are a bunch of mooches. (L. Ian MacDonald's article tries to temper Harper's machete-wielding with the fact that a Conservative government created the CBC - never mind the fact that their orchestra has been cancelled and that Brave New Waves is a thing of the past.) I've submitted a letter to the contrary: no point sharing it here, just read my last post.
The funding cuts have opened the whole can of worms on whether government funding for the arts should exist at all or whether the market will bear the support of art. One letter-writer to the Gazette seems to think that the free market will support worthy artists and that those of us who apply for grants are a bunch of mooches. (L. Ian MacDonald's article tries to temper Harper's machete-wielding with the fact that a Conservative government created the CBC - never mind the fact that their orchestra has been cancelled and that Brave New Waves is a thing of the past.) I've submitted a letter to the contrary: no point sharing it here, just read my last post.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Your life may mean nothing if it's only been spoon-fed
The big cultural news in Canada is that our wonderful Conservative government has axed two major arts funding initiatives. The first, PromArt, is (was) a $4.7-million fund to promote Canadian artists abroad. It's now being revoked, partly because past recipients have included Holy Fuck, former CBC journalist Avi Lewis and Tal Bachman (son of Randy). A week later, cuts to film and video funding were announced as well. Depending on who you talk to, as many as five arts funding programs have been cut, and/or future cuts by Harper's government may come to a total of $48.5 million.
These funding cuts hit very close to home, given my involvement with the Montreal Biennale. Two major partners with the Biennale have suffered greatly from these announcements: the SAT will lose up to 25% of its budget, and INIS' is set back nearly $900,000. The organizers behind the Biennale have been frantically scrambling to cobble together alternate sources of funding so that the event can go off in May 2009 without any hitches. Needless to say, Harper's cuts have thrown a major monkey wrench into the proceedings. Claudio Marzano assures me that the silver lining in all this is that the Biennale team has arrived at the "big picture" earlier than expected and are pleased with what is in store over the next few months. However, the two aforementioned organizations aren't just partners with the Biennale: the SAT is a key venue in the city for all sorts of forward-thinking multimedia projects, including the MUTEK festival; and the INIS has long been a training ground and immensely valuable asset to the health of Québécois (and Canadian) cinema and television.
There was a protest/conference this morning at the SAT, with many luminaries of the Montreal arts scene including the Biennale's Claude Gosselin, Spectra's André Menard, Walter Boudreau from the SMCQ, and Michel G. Desjardins from INIS. Estimates have the audience around 3000 - and the SAT was packed. Sure, it got political, with anti-Conservative and pro-sovereignist strains abounding -- Boudreau even riffed on the cuts being similar to Hitler's Final Solution. And while there were many sentiments that I agreed with, I'm not sure that the more "radical" testimonies did anything to sway those that think artists are a bunch of lazy parasites on hard-earned tax dollars, and that the market will support the best art. I was happy to see representatives from the business and administration community, to temper some of the flaming lefty artist statements.
It should be abundantly clear that arts and culture are the lifeblood of civilization, and I agreed most with the business representative (whose name I forget) who said that the promotion of arts, culture and tolerance is Canada's trademark to the world which must be promulgated and protected. Another panelist gave the figure that culture accounts for 8% of Canada's GDP. I know that the majority of Quebec and Ontario tourism money comes from cultural events - festivals and the like. To quote yet another panelist, at a time when many European countries, as well as Australia, are dumping money into cultural exchange programs, Harper's massive cuts place him in stark contrast with the rest of the cultural world. Yes, Harper and his crew are eminently out of touch with the role culture plays in Canada, especially Quebec, and abroad. But it must be made clear to those who share Harper's views that artists are not merely leeches on the government system. It is funding from organizations like PromArt and training from INIS that allow Canada to be a player on the world's cultural stage. Federal arts funding is no place for censorship - grants are awarded by panels who evaluate all eligible and qualified candidates. If an expletive in a band name doesn't ruffle the adjudicators' feathers, then it shouldn't make any difference to the government or the general public.
I will readily stay out of politics if Harper and his cronies keep their noses, and their budget scissors, away from deserving artists and organizations. Until then, it is essential that us artists band together the way we did this morning. I wish interdisciplinary artist unity occurred more often and under better circumstances. At any rate, nous vaincrons!
These funding cuts hit very close to home, given my involvement with the Montreal Biennale. Two major partners with the Biennale have suffered greatly from these announcements: the SAT will lose up to 25% of its budget, and INIS' is set back nearly $900,000. The organizers behind the Biennale have been frantically scrambling to cobble together alternate sources of funding so that the event can go off in May 2009 without any hitches. Needless to say, Harper's cuts have thrown a major monkey wrench into the proceedings. Claudio Marzano assures me that the silver lining in all this is that the Biennale team has arrived at the "big picture" earlier than expected and are pleased with what is in store over the next few months. However, the two aforementioned organizations aren't just partners with the Biennale: the SAT is a key venue in the city for all sorts of forward-thinking multimedia projects, including the MUTEK festival; and the INIS has long been a training ground and immensely valuable asset to the health of Québécois (and Canadian) cinema and television.
There was a protest/conference this morning at the SAT, with many luminaries of the Montreal arts scene including the Biennale's Claude Gosselin, Spectra's André Menard, Walter Boudreau from the SMCQ, and Michel G. Desjardins from INIS. Estimates have the audience around 3000 - and the SAT was packed. Sure, it got political, with anti-Conservative and pro-sovereignist strains abounding -- Boudreau even riffed on the cuts being similar to Hitler's Final Solution. And while there were many sentiments that I agreed with, I'm not sure that the more "radical" testimonies did anything to sway those that think artists are a bunch of lazy parasites on hard-earned tax dollars, and that the market will support the best art. I was happy to see representatives from the business and administration community, to temper some of the flaming lefty artist statements.
It should be abundantly clear that arts and culture are the lifeblood of civilization, and I agreed most with the business representative (whose name I forget) who said that the promotion of arts, culture and tolerance is Canada's trademark to the world which must be promulgated and protected. Another panelist gave the figure that culture accounts for 8% of Canada's GDP. I know that the majority of Quebec and Ontario tourism money comes from cultural events - festivals and the like. To quote yet another panelist, at a time when many European countries, as well as Australia, are dumping money into cultural exchange programs, Harper's massive cuts place him in stark contrast with the rest of the cultural world. Yes, Harper and his crew are eminently out of touch with the role culture plays in Canada, especially Quebec, and abroad. But it must be made clear to those who share Harper's views that artists are not merely leeches on the government system. It is funding from organizations like PromArt and training from INIS that allow Canada to be a player on the world's cultural stage. Federal arts funding is no place for censorship - grants are awarded by panels who evaluate all eligible and qualified candidates. If an expletive in a band name doesn't ruffle the adjudicators' feathers, then it shouldn't make any difference to the government or the general public.
I will readily stay out of politics if Harper and his cronies keep their noses, and their budget scissors, away from deserving artists and organizations. Until then, it is essential that us artists band together the way we did this morning. I wish interdisciplinary artist unity occurred more often and under better circumstances. At any rate, nous vaincrons!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Turn and face the strain
Bloody hell. Muxtape is down, courtesy of the friendly folks at the RIAA. Just another installment of old media having jumped the shark and scared out of its wits by new media.
Muxtape was a service that allowed users to post 12-track mixes for anyone to listen to - a digital version of the mixtape or a low-tech podcast, however you want to view it. Andrew Durkin of IJG did it. Scott C did it. I never used it, but appreciated the idea of it. Sure, it's copyright infringement - but so were making mixtapes back in the day, taping tunes off the radio or LPs. And how many people, after hearing something on someone's m(i/u)xtape, moseyed over to the record store or to iTunes and put down cold hard cash? Or better yet, went to go see the artist live?
Why the RIAA continues to get its panties in a twist over file-sharing astounds me: it has minimal effect on sales. It's a fallacious claim, assuming that all downloads are of artists that the downloader would have otherwise bought. I've heard tons of new, or at least new-to-me, music over services like Muxtape and Pandora that I never would have purchased beforehand. I've also downloaded tunes to learn for auditions or gigs, which fall under fair use (educational). And what of sites that post long out-of-print gems that are unlikely to ever be reissued? Perfect example: in the golden days when Pandora existed in Canada, the first station I created was Maria Schneider radio. One of the first few related tracks to pop up was track one of Anthony Braxton's Creative Orchestra Music 1976. I'd have never thought to check out that record otherwise, and now I'm willing to shell out big bucks for the upcoming Mosaic set because I heard that music over ye olde interwebz.
And what of artists like Durkin who were using Muxtape to extol the virtues of their own art in the context of a mix? And what if Professor Gann had posted a Muxtape of post-minimalism - his advocacy of "new music" brings composers to my inbox that I'd never hear of. And if a muxtape, or a web radio station, or a blog leads to commissions and gigs, what does the RIAA have to say to that?
Muxtape was a service that allowed users to post 12-track mixes for anyone to listen to - a digital version of the mixtape or a low-tech podcast, however you want to view it. Andrew Durkin of IJG did it. Scott C did it. I never used it, but appreciated the idea of it. Sure, it's copyright infringement - but so were making mixtapes back in the day, taping tunes off the radio or LPs. And how many people, after hearing something on someone's m(i/u)xtape, moseyed over to the record store or to iTunes and put down cold hard cash? Or better yet, went to go see the artist live?
Why the RIAA continues to get its panties in a twist over file-sharing astounds me: it has minimal effect on sales. It's a fallacious claim, assuming that all downloads are of artists that the downloader would have otherwise bought. I've heard tons of new, or at least new-to-me, music over services like Muxtape and Pandora that I never would have purchased beforehand. I've also downloaded tunes to learn for auditions or gigs, which fall under fair use (educational). And what of sites that post long out-of-print gems that are unlikely to ever be reissued? Perfect example: in the golden days when Pandora existed in Canada, the first station I created was Maria Schneider radio. One of the first few related tracks to pop up was track one of Anthony Braxton's Creative Orchestra Music 1976. I'd have never thought to check out that record otherwise, and now I'm willing to shell out big bucks for the upcoming Mosaic set because I heard that music over ye olde interwebz.
And what of artists like Durkin who were using Muxtape to extol the virtues of their own art in the context of a mix? And what if Professor Gann had posted a Muxtape of post-minimalism - his advocacy of "new music" brings composers to my inbox that I'd never hear of. And if a muxtape, or a web radio station, or a blog leads to commissions and gigs, what does the RIAA have to say to that?
RIP Jerry Wexler
Via James Hale, I read that the third member of the Atlantic Records triumvirate, Jerry Wexler, has passed at the age of 91.
His tombstone will read "He Changed the World." (He once stated he'd like it to read "More Bass.") And far from being hyperbole, he was truly responsible, along with the brothers Ertegun, for unleashing some of the most influential music - if the list stopped at Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin it would be enough - upon the public. Additionally, he gave engineer extraordinaire Tom Dowd the chance to showcase his craft and bring in cutting-edge technology to the Atlantic studios. Dowd mentored an engineer/producer named Phil Ramone. It all comes back to Wexler.
With the death of Wexler, joining the Ertegun brothers, we have lost a rare breed: a record label executive with big ears. Even though he was not a musician himself, he had cultivated his tastes and was willing to take chances on artists he believed in. Anybody who is still on the business side of the music industry should tip their hat to Wexler - he is the standard by which I wish they all were measured.
More:
Save vs. Death
Owen Adams (The Guardian)
BrooklynVegan
Nick Hornby
His tombstone will read "He Changed the World." (He once stated he'd like it to read "More Bass.") And far from being hyperbole, he was truly responsible, along with the brothers Ertegun, for unleashing some of the most influential music - if the list stopped at Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin it would be enough - upon the public. Additionally, he gave engineer extraordinaire Tom Dowd the chance to showcase his craft and bring in cutting-edge technology to the Atlantic studios. Dowd mentored an engineer/producer named Phil Ramone. It all comes back to Wexler.
With the death of Wexler, joining the Ertegun brothers, we have lost a rare breed: a record label executive with big ears. Even though he was not a musician himself, he had cultivated his tastes and was willing to take chances on artists he believed in. Anybody who is still on the business side of the music industry should tip their hat to Wexler - he is the standard by which I wish they all were measured.
More:
Save vs. Death
Owen Adams (The Guardian)
BrooklynVegan
Nick Hornby
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Good things come to those who wait
8 CDs worth of good things, in fact. Via WFMU (via Destination: Out), Mosaic is putting together a box of Anthony Braxton's Arista Years, for release in October.
About damn time!
What made his output at Arista (1974-80) so unique was the range of projects he was able to realize thanks to the supportive budgets of a major label. This 8-CD set rescues his entire 13-LP Arista output from forgotten vaults. From live and studio recordings with his quartet (with Kenny Wheeler or George Lewis, Dave Holland and Barry Altschul) to solo alto excursions to a duet with Muhal Richard Abrams to Creative Orchestra Music to trios with Roscoe Mitchell/Joseph Jarman and Henry Threadgill/Douglas Ewart to his thoroughly composed pieces for two pianos and for four orchestras, Braxton explored every aspect of modern music through his own creative vision with astonishing results.The 13 LPs are:
Arista AL-4032 New York, Fall 1974 - 1 LP
Arista AL-4064 Five Pieces, 1975 - 1 LP
Arista AL-4080 Creative Orchestra Music 1976 - 1 LP
Arista AL-4101 Duets 1976 - 1 LP
Arista AB-4181 For Trio - 1 LP
Arista AL-5002 The Montreux/Berlin concerts - 2 LPs
Arista A2L-8602 Alto Saxophone Improvisation 1979 - 2 LPs
Arista A3L-8900 For Four Orchestras - 3 LPs
Arista AL-9559 For Two Pianos - 1 LP
About damn time!
Monday, August 11, 2008
This is ourselves
It's been an arts-community filled weekend for me. Saturday night was Indyish's second anniversary, an occasion calling for a "Mega" installment of their Monthly Messes. Mega it was, with 60 performers and artists contributing to the marathon interdisciplinary evening. Before going any further, Indyish is a Montreal-based independent artists network and cyber-boutique. Co-founder Risa Dickens has a great post on the impetus behind it. I know people who have been involved with them for a long time, though I'm a more recent disciple. What they're doing, and what Risa hints at in her post, is very important in the current arts climate.
First up was author Jeff Gandell who read an excerpt from his autobiographical novel dealing with jellyfish stings in sensitive regions while in Florida. In true Al Gore fashion, the reading was enhanced by a deftly programmed slide show. He was followed by Tribal Ethereal Dancers, an idiosyncratic belly-dance troupe. I made their acquaintance a couple of months ago at the last Indyish marathon mess, co-produced by the Fringe Festival and Suoni Per Il Popolo, with the Sun Ra Arkestra jam. Anybody who can improvise belly-dancing to Ra's "Carefree" scores major points in my book. They performed two pieces to pre-recorded music this time, but it was just as stunning as their improvised work.
Next up was my friend Elizabeth Bruce, now transplanted to Ottawa. The last time I saw her was one of her first gigs at The Yellow Door, and her confidence has grown by leaps and bounds. She only performed four songs but they were really strong. Her self-accompaniment was fairly intricate at times too, matching well with Melody MacIver on drums and violin.
Fellow CKUT-er Paul Neudorf got a Bravo!FACT grant to produce a short video called "Refractions." Equally inspired by dance, the warehouses of St-Henri, Rainer Maria Rilke and Isaac Newton, the screening was preceded by a gang of improvisers, including the film's composer Gabriel Dharmoo, interacting with two dancers including the film's "star," Jonathan Turcotte. Both the live set and the film are stunning. I stuck it out for a couple of songs from local rockers Magnetic Hill, mashed up with half of the country band Orillia Opry, but fatigue won out. I really wanted to see ex-Dear Patrick Krief and his new band, Black Diamond Bay, collaborate with the female avant-choral institution of Choeur Maha. Alas. I'm sure video will be up on Indyish soon.
Sunday was the 13th edition of Under Pressure. I've blogged the last two years in greater detail, as I didn't have my camera on Sunday and not much is different in terms of what I think of the festival (short hand: it rocks). The b-boy/b-girl battle was changed to an individual battle instead of a crew battle like in years past, and while it improved the sightlines of the cipher, it created a fiasco in the final round when dancers got out of order. Big ups to all the organizers and all the DJs, as usual.
First up was author Jeff Gandell who read an excerpt from his autobiographical novel dealing with jellyfish stings in sensitive regions while in Florida. In true Al Gore fashion, the reading was enhanced by a deftly programmed slide show. He was followed by Tribal Ethereal Dancers, an idiosyncratic belly-dance troupe. I made their acquaintance a couple of months ago at the last Indyish marathon mess, co-produced by the Fringe Festival and Suoni Per Il Popolo, with the Sun Ra Arkestra jam. Anybody who can improvise belly-dancing to Ra's "Carefree" scores major points in my book. They performed two pieces to pre-recorded music this time, but it was just as stunning as their improvised work.
Next up was my friend Elizabeth Bruce, now transplanted to Ottawa. The last time I saw her was one of her first gigs at The Yellow Door, and her confidence has grown by leaps and bounds. She only performed four songs but they were really strong. Her self-accompaniment was fairly intricate at times too, matching well with Melody MacIver on drums and violin.
Fellow CKUT-er Paul Neudorf got a Bravo!FACT grant to produce a short video called "Refractions." Equally inspired by dance, the warehouses of St-Henri, Rainer Maria Rilke and Isaac Newton, the screening was preceded by a gang of improvisers, including the film's composer Gabriel Dharmoo, interacting with two dancers including the film's "star," Jonathan Turcotte. Both the live set and the film are stunning. I stuck it out for a couple of songs from local rockers Magnetic Hill, mashed up with half of the country band Orillia Opry, but fatigue won out. I really wanted to see ex-Dear Patrick Krief and his new band, Black Diamond Bay, collaborate with the female avant-choral institution of Choeur Maha. Alas. I'm sure video will be up on Indyish soon.
Sunday was the 13th edition of Under Pressure. I've blogged the last two years in greater detail, as I didn't have my camera on Sunday and not much is different in terms of what I think of the festival (short hand: it rocks). The b-boy/b-girl battle was changed to an individual battle instead of a crew battle like in years past, and while it improved the sightlines of the cipher, it created a fiasco in the final round when dancers got out of order. Big ups to all the organizers and all the DJs, as usual.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Keep your eyes open
There's way too many posts about stolen instruments. It always sucks to write them and read them. After rocking Osheaga, Iggy Pop & the Stooges had their entire truck jacked from outside their hotel. Read it and weep...
IGGY AND THE STOOGES EQUIPMENT STOLEN ON AUGUST 4, 2008
OUTSIDE THE EMBASSY SUITES HOTEL 208 SAINT ANTOINE OUEST,
MONTREAL, QUEBEC, CANADA
all equipment was in a rented penske 15 foot yellow truck with u.s. (michigan) license plate number AC46493 and the theft had to have happened in the morning, between 6:30 and 7:30 am. there's a web page at: http://hootpage.com/stoogesstolenstuff/stoogesstolenstuff.html that will soon have pictures and updates to more stuff found missing (DRR edit: pictures are now up, check the page for the full list - it's unfortunately very, very long).
if anyone has information, ANY INFORMATION! please, please, PLEASE as soon as possible contact Eric Fischer at:
nycentral13@gmail.com
cell phone: +1 646 932 1907
IGGY AND THE STOOGES EQUIPMENT STOLEN ON AUGUST 4, 2008
OUTSIDE THE EMBASSY SUITES HOTEL 208 SAINT ANTOINE OUEST,
MONTREAL, QUEBEC, CANADA
all equipment was in a rented penske 15 foot yellow truck with u.s. (michigan) license plate number AC46493 and the theft had to have happened in the morning, between 6:30 and 7:30 am. there's a web page at: http://hootpage.com/stoogesstolenstuff/stoogesstolenstuff.html that will soon have pictures and updates to more stuff found missing (DRR edit: pictures are now up, check the page for the full list - it's unfortunately very, very long).
if anyone has information, ANY INFORMATION! please, please, PLEASE as soon as possible contact Eric Fischer at:
nycentral13@gmail.com
cell phone: +1 646 932 1907
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Shine your light on the world
I'm late, way late on this, but I wish I had been there. Chris "Daddy" Dave and Friends (including Robert Glasper, Casey Benjamin, Derrick Hodge and Mos Def) rock a Dilla joint at the Blue Note. This was the afterparty for the Mos Def Big Band (!) show at Carnegie Hall during the JVC festival, featuring a guest appearance by the legendary Gil Scott-Heron.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Boban Markovic Orkestar - La Tulipe 07/22/2008
When I first heard that the Boban Markovic Orkestar was coming to town, I thought La Tulipe was a strange choice of venue. A rock club on the northeastern edge of the Plateau district, it's in a largely Francophone neighbourhood and at the outskirts of the venue districts. It's also fairly big, but it has good sound and decent sightlines. Much to my surprise, La Tulipe was full - not Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings full, but full enough. DJ crew Royal Air Togo started the evening off with the requisite Electric Gypsyland vibe. I only caught about 20 minutes of their set.
Once the Orkestar hit the stage, 12 strong (two drummers and ten brass), it was clear that it was party time, even on a Tuesday night. Balkan music, to my ears, is a music of extremes - alternately fantastically joyous and heartwrenching. Markovic focused on the joy, though the slower moments had that keening, sorrowful quality that imbues much Rromani and other Gypsy music. I am assuming that a lot of what was played was traditional, as I was standing beside a crowd of girls who were screaming the words to every piece. (For my part, I only recognized two tunes - "Chaje Shukarije" and, oddly enough, "Hava Nagila.") Apparently Marko Markovic, Boban's son and trumpet phenom, couldn't make the tour; nor could their tapan player, so Aaron Alexander was admirably subbing on kit. Even with problematic monitors, nothing seemed to hinder the Orkestar's powerfully engaging two-hour set.
Once the Orkestar hit the stage, 12 strong (two drummers and ten brass), it was clear that it was party time, even on a Tuesday night. Balkan music, to my ears, is a music of extremes - alternately fantastically joyous and heartwrenching. Markovic focused on the joy, though the slower moments had that keening, sorrowful quality that imbues much Rromani and other Gypsy music. I am assuming that a lot of what was played was traditional, as I was standing beside a crowd of girls who were screaming the words to every piece. (For my part, I only recognized two tunes - "Chaje Shukarije" and, oddly enough, "Hava Nagila.") Apparently Marko Markovic, Boban's son and trumpet phenom, couldn't make the tour; nor could their tapan player, so Aaron Alexander was admirably subbing on kit. Even with problematic monitors, nothing seemed to hinder the Orkestar's powerfully engaging two-hour set.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
All up in your mind
- Most of the Suoni Per Il Popolo reviews are up at Panpot. I also reviewed the Roswell Rudd/Mark Dresser and Hard Cell Suoni concerts for Coda, and they should be appearing in the upcoming issue.
- I will be hosting World Skip the Beat on Monday, August 4 @ noon EST. I'll also be hosting Jazz Euphorium on Wednesday, August 6 @ 8 pm EST. As always, you can tune in live or listen from the archives.
- Indigone Trio FIJM video is up on YouTube on my brand spankin' new channel. For your viewing pleasure, I am embedding a newer piece called "Tonglen," inspired by Andrew D'Angelo's marvelous post on the Buddhist practice.
- I will be hosting World Skip the Beat on Monday, August 4 @ noon EST. I'll also be hosting Jazz Euphorium on Wednesday, August 6 @ 8 pm EST. As always, you can tune in live or listen from the archives.
- Indigone Trio FIJM video is up on YouTube on my brand spankin' new channel. For your viewing pleasure, I am embedding a newer piece called "Tonglen," inspired by Andrew D'Angelo's marvelous post on the Buddhist practice.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Speak to it
The discussion that Darcy has prompted from this post is a debate I've had internally and with colleagues for many years. What is the role, the point, the function of music (or art in general)? Is it supposed to be communicative in nature? I don't intend the following to be the final word on the subject - it's merely a description of where I'm at in my music-making process and what my goals are.
I had an epiphany about this in 2005. When Chris Driscoll, a fantastic drummer and inspiring human being, passed away, the family of his best friend, bassist Pat Reid, chartered a bus out to Prince Edward Island so that Chris' McGill friends and colleagues could attend the service. The Reid house became Ground Zero for coming together, grieving, and jamming. It was in that week of non-stop music, culminating in a seven-hour marathon concert at a local church, that I rediscovered what music can do, and ideally, should do.
Immediately after I heard the news, this fragment of melody popped into my head and wouldn't go away. I didn't have time to write it down before taking the bus the next morning, so I kept repeating it to engrave it in my memory. I wrote a first draft on the 12-hour bus ride from Montreal to Charlottetown, and finished what is now called "Driscollage" in the living room of my wonderful PEI hosts. The origins of "Driscollage" were, in a sense, purely selfish - I wrote it for me as a way of coping, and paying homage to the memory of a colleague for whom I had the utmost respect. (It would be too much to say Chris and I were close, but the last thing we said to each other was that we should play together more often.) But after we played the piece at the PEI concert, Chris' father came up to me and thanked me for the tune, and "Driscollage" now has a whole new meaning for me. I may write more intricate, developed, complex and/or creative pieces in the future, but none will occupy the place of importance and honour that "Driscollage" has.
I strive for a sense of connection and communication in every piece I write, in every gig I play; a lack of it is what turns me off at gigs. Darcy sums it up thus:
Most professional musicians wind up taking gigs that do not showcase their main creative outlet - playing repertoire we wouldn't select ourselves, in settings that are less than optimal. However, we are (or should be) still attempting to make music. The easy way out is to slag it off and phone it in. The bigger challenge is to actually be musical and engage with one's partners on the bandstand. Honesty goes a long way - someone in the audience will pick up on it. It only takes one person to give sincere thanks for our music, to have been genuinely affected by it, to change the outlook of a gig.
I had an epiphany about this in 2005. When Chris Driscoll, a fantastic drummer and inspiring human being, passed away, the family of his best friend, bassist Pat Reid, chartered a bus out to Prince Edward Island so that Chris' McGill friends and colleagues could attend the service. The Reid house became Ground Zero for coming together, grieving, and jamming. It was in that week of non-stop music, culminating in a seven-hour marathon concert at a local church, that I rediscovered what music can do, and ideally, should do.
Immediately after I heard the news, this fragment of melody popped into my head and wouldn't go away. I didn't have time to write it down before taking the bus the next morning, so I kept repeating it to engrave it in my memory. I wrote a first draft on the 12-hour bus ride from Montreal to Charlottetown, and finished what is now called "Driscollage" in the living room of my wonderful PEI hosts. The origins of "Driscollage" were, in a sense, purely selfish - I wrote it for me as a way of coping, and paying homage to the memory of a colleague for whom I had the utmost respect. (It would be too much to say Chris and I were close, but the last thing we said to each other was that we should play together more often.) But after we played the piece at the PEI concert, Chris' father came up to me and thanked me for the tune, and "Driscollage" now has a whole new meaning for me. I may write more intricate, developed, complex and/or creative pieces in the future, but none will occupy the place of importance and honour that "Driscollage" has.
I strive for a sense of connection and communication in every piece I write, in every gig I play; a lack of it is what turns me off at gigs. Darcy sums it up thus:
Well, first and foremost, ["meeting the listener halfway"] means playing the music like it fucking means something to you, and you desperately want us all to understand exactly what it is that it means to you, because these sounds that you are making are the most important sounds in the world, and if you fail to persuade us just how important these sounds are, you'll die.This sense of connection doesn't have to lie exclusively in anthemic, accessible pieces (although the soaring melodies of David Binney, Roberto Fonseca, Djavan and Milton Nascimento do this quite often). There was a moment - a single moment - where drummer Paal Nilssen-Love bowed a cowbell, and trumpeter Magnus Broo landed on the same note at the same instant, holding for another moment and then moving away; this was the highlight of the entire concert for me. The Sun Ra Arkestra, in their densest, knottiest segments, has a manner of captivating the audience. All the aforementioned artists, even in their most "accessible" moments, are not writing simple tunes - there's a high level of sophistication in the musical information. But they're not focused on musical one-upsmanship on the bandstand. It's the "Hey! marvel at our rhythmic complexity and overwhelming ingenuity" attitude that leaves me out in the cold, vs. Darcy's sentiment above.
Most professional musicians wind up taking gigs that do not showcase their main creative outlet - playing repertoire we wouldn't select ourselves, in settings that are less than optimal. However, we are (or should be) still attempting to make music. The easy way out is to slag it off and phone it in. The bigger challenge is to actually be musical and engage with one's partners on the bandstand. Honesty goes a long way - someone in the audience will pick up on it. It only takes one person to give sincere thanks for our music, to have been genuinely affected by it, to change the outlook of a gig.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Jazzfest 2008 - Days 7 & 8
Day 7
2 pm: Press conference with Jim West, head of Justin Time Records, Oliver Jones, and Trevor Payne, leader of the Montreal Jubilation Gospel Choir. In honour of their 25th anniversary, they've put out a two-disc compilation, and have a closing concert tomorrow night at Place des Arts.
5 pm: Papagroove launch their new record, We're Not Blind. Haven't listened to the disc yet but the bits I've heard at the conference are very promising, befitting a band featuring ex-members of Montreal worldbeat collectives La Chango Family and Dobacaracol.
7 pm: Orchestra Baobab @ Club Soda. Grooves can be tight intense without walloping bass and high volume. There's a whole new vitality to their tunes live that can't be captured in a studio.
9:30 pm: Dirty Dozen Brass Band @ Theatre Maisonneuve. Came out with some greasy funk, but went from funky sloppy to just sloppy in parts. Not sure if that was due to the sound issues, with the drum mixes fading out and seemingly turning the time around, and a whole host of monitor issues with the sousaphone. The experience was also dampened by the nitwits behind me who insisted on talking throughout the entire show.
10:30 pm: Blind Boys of Alabama. When the three elders sing, it's a chilling, stunning harmony that seems to grow straight from the ground. Jimmy Carter still has a huge voice and great presence. The rhythm section was in step the whole way, especially on the cover of Tom Waits' "Way Down in the Hole." They did two songs with the Dirty Dozen horns - and given its apparent spontaneity, they were unfortunately poorly miked.*
12:30 am: Headed over to Brutopia, the third venue change for Vanessa Rodrigues' annual B-3 jam. I love the mighty beast, but let's just say I'll stick to piano for the near future.
Day 8
Spent the afternoon wandering through the SIMM (Montreal Musical Instrument Show), which is seemingly smaller and less crazy than last year. I overheard Roland reps saying the same thing. Pianos Prestige has the Steinway Rhapsody piano up for show, and what a gorgeous instrument it is: never mind the artwork, the way it sings on a ballad and barks when I dug in on "I Mean You" is just phenomenal.
6 pm: Steven Bernstein's Millennial Territory Orchestra @ Theatre Jean-Duceppe. The small audience and technical glitches didn't faze Bernstein, whose scores to three Laurel & Hardy films were imbued with the same humour and struck a balance between Carl Stalling-style composition and space for the band to just play through the film. The encore, with Bernstein on slide trumpet, grew out of an ominous F minor vamp into a romp through "St. Louis Blues."**
* Note 1: What is with white people and the overwhelming instinct to clap on 1 & 3? Especially on gospel music where the backbeat is so damned obvious? I actually felt sorry for one person I saw at the Orchestra Baobab show who was earnestly trying to clap in rhythm and it was just so difficult for her.
** Note 2: Sound people who drown horn sections in reverb should be fined, or possibly subjected to some sort of corporal punishment. Cutoffs by the MTO, like Mario Allard's band a few days ago, were left dangling, swimming in artifical 'verb.
2 pm: Press conference with Jim West, head of Justin Time Records, Oliver Jones, and Trevor Payne, leader of the Montreal Jubilation Gospel Choir. In honour of their 25th anniversary, they've put out a two-disc compilation, and have a closing concert tomorrow night at Place des Arts.
5 pm: Papagroove launch their new record, We're Not Blind. Haven't listened to the disc yet but the bits I've heard at the conference are very promising, befitting a band featuring ex-members of Montreal worldbeat collectives La Chango Family and Dobacaracol.
7 pm: Orchestra Baobab @ Club Soda. Grooves can be tight intense without walloping bass and high volume. There's a whole new vitality to their tunes live that can't be captured in a studio.
9:30 pm: Dirty Dozen Brass Band @ Theatre Maisonneuve. Came out with some greasy funk, but went from funky sloppy to just sloppy in parts. Not sure if that was due to the sound issues, with the drum mixes fading out and seemingly turning the time around, and a whole host of monitor issues with the sousaphone. The experience was also dampened by the nitwits behind me who insisted on talking throughout the entire show.
10:30 pm: Blind Boys of Alabama. When the three elders sing, it's a chilling, stunning harmony that seems to grow straight from the ground. Jimmy Carter still has a huge voice and great presence. The rhythm section was in step the whole way, especially on the cover of Tom Waits' "Way Down in the Hole." They did two songs with the Dirty Dozen horns - and given its apparent spontaneity, they were unfortunately poorly miked.*
12:30 am: Headed over to Brutopia, the third venue change for Vanessa Rodrigues' annual B-3 jam. I love the mighty beast, but let's just say I'll stick to piano for the near future.
Day 8
Spent the afternoon wandering through the SIMM (Montreal Musical Instrument Show), which is seemingly smaller and less crazy than last year. I overheard Roland reps saying the same thing. Pianos Prestige has the Steinway Rhapsody piano up for show, and what a gorgeous instrument it is: never mind the artwork, the way it sings on a ballad and barks when I dug in on "I Mean You" is just phenomenal.
6 pm: Steven Bernstein's Millennial Territory Orchestra @ Theatre Jean-Duceppe. The small audience and technical glitches didn't faze Bernstein, whose scores to three Laurel & Hardy films were imbued with the same humour and struck a balance between Carl Stalling-style composition and space for the band to just play through the film. The encore, with Bernstein on slide trumpet, grew out of an ominous F minor vamp into a romp through "St. Louis Blues."**
* Note 1: What is with white people and the overwhelming instinct to clap on 1 & 3? Especially on gospel music where the backbeat is so damned obvious? I actually felt sorry for one person I saw at the Orchestra Baobab show who was earnestly trying to clap in rhythm and it was just so difficult for her.
** Note 2: Sound people who drown horn sections in reverb should be fined, or possibly subjected to some sort of corporal punishment. Cutoffs by the MTO, like Mario Allard's band a few days ago, were left dangling, swimming in artifical 'verb.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Non-Jazzfest notes
Yesterday was Canada Day, also known in Quebec as Moving Day. Thankfully I was not moving, nor was I helping anybody else move.
Via Darcy, may Ronnie Matthews rest in peace. The jazz concert that made me a die-hard convert was the T.S Monk "Monk on Monk" big band, on Halloween 1997. I was sitting three rows from the bells of the saxophones, and Ronnie Matthews was on piano, inhabiting the spirit of Monk without resorting to mere mimicry. I never really heard him on other records after that, but that one exposure alone (and his graciousness in dealing with an over-eager 12-year-old) stuck with me.
Via Darcy, may Ronnie Matthews rest in peace. The jazz concert that made me a die-hard convert was the T.S Monk "Monk on Monk" big band, on Halloween 1997. I was sitting three rows from the bells of the saxophones, and Ronnie Matthews was on piano, inhabiting the spirit of Monk without resorting to mere mimicry. I never really heard him on other records after that, but that one exposure alone (and his graciousness in dealing with an over-eager 12-year-old) stuck with me.
Jazzfest 2008 - Day 6
Ain't no party like a Bran Van party 'cause a Bran Van party don't stop. Snagged a sweet spot up on the press patio, not having to deal with the throngs of 200,000 crammed into every nook and cranny of Place des Arts. Like many, I only know Bran Van 3000 from their two or three massive singles - "Drinking in L.A.", "Astounded" (a flip on Curtis Mayfield's "Move on Up") and "Everywhere" (which I recognized but never knew was their tune). The crowd on the terrasse was split between people who didn't know them at all, people who knew "Drinking in L.A" and some die-hard fans who knew nearly everything. It took a while for them to work into it, starting with a couple of slower tunes, but when James di Salvio and company launched into their dirty downtempo Beastie beats and gradually cranked the tempo towards disco-house party, they excelled and won the crowd over. A far better live show than I expected.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Jazzfest 2008 - Day 5
2 pm: Public Enemy press conference. Chuck D held court on the border, the environment, Barack Obama, race in America, the music industry, and much more, while Flavor Flav emphasized Chuck's points, politely disagreed with him on going over to Iraq, and told (possibly apocryphal) stories about chilling with Miles Davis and being namechecked by Obama.
6 pm: Checked out some of Alexis Baro's set from the press room patio. Really groovy tunes anchored by basslines. Baro's a killing trumpeter living in Toronto and his chops were in full effect.
7 pm: Caught some of Mario Allard's set. I've heard their tunes on their MySpace and the band has gotten really tight over the past few months. Too bad the sound guy decided to drown them in reverb - it muddied up the counterpoint and made the solos sound like they were on a bad '90s record.
9 pm: Corkestra @ Monument-National. The subtle mix of free improvisation and three-reed solis reminiscent of eras past was a perfect fit for this small, intimate room.
10:30 pm: Marc Cary Trio @ Gésu. I really wanted to like this, having loved his solo show at Toronto Trane Studio, but I found it needlessly jumpy. Cary himself referred to a segment as the "CD changer." There were glimpses of a tight trio hookup, and drummer/tabla player Sameer Gupta was truly fantastic, but overall it was underwhelming.
6 pm: Checked out some of Alexis Baro's set from the press room patio. Really groovy tunes anchored by basslines. Baro's a killing trumpeter living in Toronto and his chops were in full effect.
7 pm: Caught some of Mario Allard's set. I've heard their tunes on their MySpace and the band has gotten really tight over the past few months. Too bad the sound guy decided to drown them in reverb - it muddied up the counterpoint and made the solos sound like they were on a bad '90s record.
9 pm: Corkestra @ Monument-National. The subtle mix of free improvisation and three-reed solis reminiscent of eras past was a perfect fit for this small, intimate room.
10:30 pm: Marc Cary Trio @ Gésu. I really wanted to like this, having loved his solo show at Toronto Trane Studio, but I found it needlessly jumpy. Cary himself referred to a segment as the "CD changer." There were glimpses of a tight trio hookup, and drummer/tabla player Sameer Gupta was truly fantastic, but overall it was underwhelming.
Jazzfest 2008 - Days 3 and 4
Day 3
Due to other commitments I could only catch one set of Steamboat Switzerland, a Swiss power trio of Hammond organ, electric bass and drums. I was disappointed that our usual complement of Québécois metalheads and noiseniks were absent from this group's continuous sonic onslaught, a mix of Medeski Martin & Wood, Dub Trio and Naked City. While highly impressive (and spectacularly through-composed in parts), I think this group is best served by a recorded mix so the details all speak clearly.
Day 4
4 pm: Monica Shore Quintet. The festival has launched a showcase series for combos from the four university music programs, and my McGill friends had their turn in the sun, featuring a couple of intriguing originals by guitarist Jordan Peters, a couple of Joni-does-Mingus tunes, and a fifth piece called "Harlem in Havana." Kevin Warren and Nic Bedard have a really strong hookup, allowing Shore, Peters and electric violinist Lisienne Tremblay to float over them in a sweetly textured blend.
6 pm: Roberto Fonseca. Someone who is not afraid of melody and restraint, whose tunes derive their power from their simplicity, and underlining the efficacy of emotion and communication. Wow.
8:30 pm: Continued the Latin party vein with a brief stop at Jose Conde's set, cut short due a torrential downpour. What I did hear was solid pan-Latin funk, greeted by some avid salsa dancers.
9:30 pm: Hank Jones & Charlie Haden. The only show of Jones' Invitation series I could see due to other commitments. I could listen to those two play the heads to tunes all day, never mind their solos. Haden was uniformly brilliant, and Jones, while showing some age, redeemed himself with his incredibly touching readings of ballads, blues, and "Motherless Child." Absolutely stunning.
Due to other commitments I could only catch one set of Steamboat Switzerland, a Swiss power trio of Hammond organ, electric bass and drums. I was disappointed that our usual complement of Québécois metalheads and noiseniks were absent from this group's continuous sonic onslaught, a mix of Medeski Martin & Wood, Dub Trio and Naked City. While highly impressive (and spectacularly through-composed in parts), I think this group is best served by a recorded mix so the details all speak clearly.
Day 4
4 pm: Monica Shore Quintet. The festival has launched a showcase series for combos from the four university music programs, and my McGill friends had their turn in the sun, featuring a couple of intriguing originals by guitarist Jordan Peters, a couple of Joni-does-Mingus tunes, and a fifth piece called "Harlem in Havana." Kevin Warren and Nic Bedard have a really strong hookup, allowing Shore, Peters and electric violinist Lisienne Tremblay to float over them in a sweetly textured blend.
6 pm: Roberto Fonseca. Someone who is not afraid of melody and restraint, whose tunes derive their power from their simplicity, and underlining the efficacy of emotion and communication. Wow.
8:30 pm: Continued the Latin party vein with a brief stop at Jose Conde's set, cut short due a torrential downpour. What I did hear was solid pan-Latin funk, greeted by some avid salsa dancers.
9:30 pm: Hank Jones & Charlie Haden. The only show of Jones' Invitation series I could see due to other commitments. I could listen to those two play the heads to tunes all day, never mind their solos. Haden was uniformly brilliant, and Jones, while showing some age, redeemed himself with his incredibly touching readings of ballads, blues, and "Motherless Child." Absolutely stunning.
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