Spectacle

I'm not going to attempt to link to all the back and forth on jazz and youth, and whether or not it needs to be saved. Kelly Fenton's already done an admirable job of that. I'm just throwing my hat into the ring because my most recent shows at Upstairs have brought an interesting perspective to the topic.

It was Trio Bruxo's first time playing at Upstairs, our first time playing with special guest Brownman, and my first time playing with Brownman since 2003. I'm also willing to bet it's the first time a whole night of MPB, with electric trumpet, has ever been played at Upstairs. On Wednesday night especially, the crowd response was fantastic. They were really into the music, and commented to Joel (manager/owner of Upstairs) that "the band looks like they're having a lot of fun." And whether or not musicians talk to the audience, that visible sense of enjoyment does a lot to engage the audience. In a smaller club, it actually seems to give cues to the not-really-jazz fans as to how to behave: yes, you can clap, hoot, and holler after our solos. If you want to dance, that's fine too, just watch out for the waitresses. The fact that it was essentially my birthday party seemed to draw people in, too. I'm not suggesting that every gig has to be a reunion of old friends, or booked on a band member's birthday, but when musicians are visibly communicating with each other on stage (I'm thinking of Bobby McFerrin, Béla Fleck, Anat Cohen, and Frisell in his own way), the audience - jazz fans or not - can pick up on it. Brownman and I both sold merchandise of entirely unrelated projects at this show, because people liked the way we played. I gave people the disclaimer that Trio Bruxo is nothing like Indigone, and they didn't seem to mind. And the majority of the audience I would peg at (well) under 40, much in line with the audiences Bruxo, Indigone and Brown's Electryc Trio normally pull.

Peter Hum addressed the issue of musicians announcing at shows. I commented:

I like to announce, and I like it when musicians announce, especially when original music and/or non-standard repertoire involved. I think that's my radio and critic experience coming in - I want to be able to check out the tunes I really loved after the fact, and not ask everyone "What was that tune?" I appreciate that composers like Maria and Darcy Argue explain the origins of their pieces, because I think the insight can be key for some listeners to find their way through the compositions.

But I think it's an overall aesthetic thing - Ornette and Wayne play wall-to-wall and that's what an audience expects of them and their bands; for them to stop the set in the middle and say "That was x tune," would interrupt all the momentum they've generated. I tend to pace my sets the way I pace radio - two or three songs at a time, and then talk.

(I would add that Brian Blade's shouting and propelling himself off his drum stool, and the body language of the quartet in general, are adequate replacements for announcements.)

One final anecdote: Charlie Haden looked like a kid in a candy store playing duo with Hank Jones, even after Hank caused a train wreck by mistakenly playing a tune in 4, instead of in 3. Charlie first tried to follow Hank, with big downbeats, and then when all else failed, Charlie flailed his arms and said, "No, Hank! Stop! The tune's in 3!" Hank bashfully turned around, gave the audience a look of "My bad" and they restarted. Letting the audience in on the mistake - and turning it into a running gag for the rest of the set - eased the musical tension, and made two masters playing in an outsized hall feel like two old buddies playing in a living room.

We're going to a party party

For those who haven't seen this from my e-mails, on Facebook, or from personal conversation, I'll be celebrating my upcoming birthday at Upstairs with four very special shows. Upstairs has run a Wednesday/Thursday trio series for a couple of years, and my two weeks happened to coincide with my birthday.

On August 19 & 20, Trio Bruxo will take the stage. For these birthday shows, I've invited trumpeter Brownman to join us. In addition to his current job as trumpet soloist with Guru's Jazzmatazz, he's acted as Toronto musical director for Brazilian harmonica master Hendrik Muerkens, and had a band with Maracatu Nunca Antes co-founder Aline Morales. Brown's been a good friend since my Toronto days; we haven't played together since 2003, so it will be a really fun birthday reunion. Trio Bruxo, with Nicolas Bédard (who also plays with Rafael Zaldivar) on electric bass and Mark Nelson (of Parc-X Trio and Fieldtrip) on drums, is modeled after the great Brazilian jazz piano trios of the 60s and 70s - Zimbo Trio, Tamba Trio, Milton Banana Trio, just to name three. Brownman's extra dose of energy to our samba/jazz grooves, in addition to it being my birthday, promises for two memorable nights.

On August 26 & 27, I'll be joined by Sebastien Pellerin on bass and Jim Doxas on drums. Seb, who is now the regular bassist in Indigone Trio, was also in my first McGill combo. I absolutely love Jim's playing; the only chance I've had to play with him, outside of jam sessions, was in the CKUT 20th anniversary big band Sean Winters and I organized. We'll be playing a mixture of Indigone's repertoire of covers and originals, a brand-new original tune, and a couple of new covers.

All shows start at 8:30 and are $5.

Jazz Amuck playlist, August 14, 2009

Filled in for John B. this past Friday.

John Hébert - "La reine de la salle" (Byzantine Monkey)
Josh Berman - "Let's Pretend" (Old Idea)
Andrew Green - "Short Cut" (Narrow Margin)
Matt Wilson - "Shooshabuster" (That's Gonna Leave a Mark)
Dave Burrell - "4:30 to Atlanta" (Momentum)
*David Mott - "First Dance" (Downtown Runout)
Donny McCaslin - "The Champion" (Recommended Tools)
Rashied Ali - "Blood on the Cross" (Moon Flight)
Alice Coltrane - "The Battle of Armageddon" (Universal Consciousness)
John Hollenbeck & JazzBigBandGraz - "Just Like Him" (Joys and Desires)
Positive Catastrophe - "Plena Organization" (Garabatos vol. 1)
Sound Assembly - "My Star" (Edge of the Mind)
Michael Musillami - "From Seeds" (From Seeds)
*Les Contracteurs Genereux - "Gab's Bag" (Le sous-marin de l'espace)
Medeski Martin & Wood - "Rifion" (Zaebos: Book of Angels vol. 11)
Tony Malaby - "Obambo" (Paloma Recio)
Nicole Mitchell's Black Earth Strings - "Wade" (Renegades)

Update: the playlist from my fill-in on The Goods a couple of weeks back is now up.

Le rap party des francos - 8/9/2009

The Francophone hip-hop scene always gets showcased throughout Francofolies and this closing blowout was a testament to its breadth.

The party kicked off with Samian, an MC that dropped powerfully conscious rhymes in both French and Algonquin, over smooth beats rooted in 90s old-school to my ears. He even did a couple of verses a cappella, including one riffing on "mon rap à moi," empowering young First Nations kids. A fitting description of his style came in one of his verses: "I don't do rap from the streets/I do rap from the reservation."

Assemblée rocked some mighty boom-bap full of anglicisms, in the vein of what I've come to expect from the Francophone rap scene - lots of shouts of "faites du bruit" and hyping up the crowd. They were followed by Radio Radio, with their Acadian slang, 808 swing, live horns and rant against tam-tams and djembes.

I saw [Ghislain] Poirier and Séba at my first Francofolies - which was, incidentally, the last time they played Francofolies. Poirier's beats are heavily influenced by soca and British bass music like dubstep, which adds a dark menacing bounce under Séba's rhymes. Séba dropped an a cappella tirade against the Cinématheque québécoise, too.

The headliner was Loco Locass in their only Montreal show of the year. They're a group I admire greatly on a musical level, especially given their recent collaborations with chamber orchestras. To be polite (and not wanting to open this can of worms), I don't always agree with their politics and so a lot of the long activist speeches between tunes did not engage me the way they did most of the crowd. The live band, and the energetic interaction among the MCs, was killer, blasting out some breakneck drum 'n' bass and building to raucous punk fervour by the end of the set. Samian came out during their encore to perform their collaboration, "La paix des braves," and to sign a petition trying to force PM Stephen Harper to recognize and support the First Nations people (it was more specific than that but I didn't catch all the details - and that's one thing I do support).

Karkwa - Metropolis, 8/7/2009

I have a fairly long history with Karkwa. As I mentioned in my last review of them, I first saw them in 2003 at Francofolies on an outdoor stage, promoting their first album. At the time they had a lot of crunchy, funky unison riffs and songs that shifted drastically from section to section. Over the past six years, they've moved towards a more atmospheric indie sound and become far more cohesive in their songwriting. Their 2008 album, Le volume du vent, is easily their best yet, and as always, they took it to another level live.

What struck me about Karkwa, even from that first show in 2003, is that it is a band of players that knows how to serve their songs. Louis-Jean Cormier has become a tremendously strong singer, and his guitar playing has always been solidly in a textural and colouristic rhythm-guitar sort of way. Keyboardist Francois Lafontaine is that rare player equally at home with pure chops and pure sound, unleashing a distorted Rhodes solo on "M'empecher de sortir" that would have done Craig Taborn proud, or playing layered and split parts "Le solstice." Stéphane Bergeron on drums, with a deep pounding snare, is complemented by Julien Sagot's percussion, and bassist Martin Lamontagne is with them in lockstep. Nothing fancy, but they get the job done in a powerful way.

Most of the tunes in their Metropolis set were from Volume du vent, with a couple from Les tremblements s'immobilisent. They've refined their sound and their show over the years, eschewing much of their odd-meter excursions or earlier funk. That said, there's still a great variety in the artistic path they've chosen, from the soaring directness of "Oublie pas" to the bursts of noise that punctuated a tune whose name escaped me. Metropolis was packed beyond anything I've ever seen in there - no room to move on the ground level and the balcony was stuffed two people deep all the way to the top.

Bassist and vocalist Marie-Pierre Arthur was the opening act and is yet another force to be reckoned with in the Montreal indie scene. The first time she appeared on my radar was as bassist and back-up singer for Ariane Moffatt, who aptly told the audience to watch out for Marie-Pierre. Sharing a sonic kinship with Karkwa, she delivered a solid set of her tunes, in a direct alto that sounded like a cross between Ariane and Liz Powell of Land of Talk. She also helmed a fantastic band, featuring Brad Barr and Olivier Langevin on guitars. Olivier and Marie-Pierre came out as guests throughout Karkwa's set, and Francois played one tune during Marie-Pierre's set. A truly impressive showing by the hometown crew.

Béla Fleck & Toumani Diabaté - Théâtre Maisonneuve, 8/6/2009

Three weeks after seeing the homegrown banjo-kora meetup of Jayme Stone and Mansa Sissoko, I was highly curious to see how two undisputed masters of said instruments would approach the collaboration. It was a study in contrasts: whereas Stone met Sissoko firmly on his turf, adapting the sound and playing vocabulary of the kora and ngoni to the banjo, Fleck's approach was more to integrate the banjo, and his language, into the context of traditional African music.

The concert opened with Fleck and Diabaté in duo, playing two new pieces written by Fleck, and Diabaté's "Manchester." Full of the bounce that characterizes Fleck's previous work, the duo prefered to trade solo with one another and accompany each other, playing lines in unison only rarely. The set ended with a stunning, hypnotic solo tour de force from Toumani that left myself and many other people around me entranced and mesmerized. The storytelling power and tradition of griots was in full effect.

Fleck began the second set solo, playing a variety of tunes not unlike his usual solo spots from Flecktones concerts, as well as a piece based only on open strings and harmonics, changing pitch by turning the tuning pegs. He then picked up a custom made cello-banjo, tuned to sound reminiscent of a bass ngoni, and played a medley of traditional songs he learned during his trip to Africa. Diabaté returned to play the absolutely gorgeous Fleck song, "Throw Down Your Heart" (the title of the film and CD, as well as the English translation of the Tanzanian port Bagamoyo, where slaves were boarded onto ships). The encore was an old Malian folk song passed down through the generations of the Diabaté family. After one of Diabaté's usual thrilling cadenzas, Fleck quipped, "Of course you know, this means war," and launched into a full-on "Duelling Banjos" with Diabaté more than holding his own. An impressive and moving concert, truly deserving of the explosive standing ovation it garnered at the end.

***

I attended a screening of Throw Down Your Heart earlier in the week, and like most documentaries of Western musicians travelling to Asia or Africa, I just wanted to jump and cry. I find it utterly fascinating that a tiny village in Uganda, without running water, can congregate to build and play a 12-foot-long balafon. The role of music in these communities is vital and permeates every part of life - it's not a specialized luxury, as is often the perception in the West. Fleck is honest and humble, marvelling at guitarist Djelimady Tounkara's adaptations of the ngoni language to guitar, and teaching ngoni virtuoso Bassekou Kouyate's son how to play the banjo. I'm curious to hear if Fleck will transfer the playing style of kora or Malian guitar virtuosos like Tounkara or Ali Farka Touré to banjo, the way Jayme Stone has.

On Interview Music

A term that's come up in this highly intriguing and informative discussion of grant funding for jazz is "interview music." Coined, as A Blog Supreme states, by an unidentified colleague of Mulgrew Miller, it seems destined to be a disparaging phrase.

For me, as a composer, I suppose I write a certain kind of "interview music." The majority of my tunes have a backstory, whether it's a tribute to someone, a piece based on poetry or art, a tone poem for a place or life experience, or even just a certain set of musical challenges I set up for myself. That backstory keeps me focused throughout the compositional process, which can sometimes drag on over a long period of time. When I look at the tunes I'm writing now vs. tunes I wrote four or five years ago that were purely tunes - no story, no nothing, just musical ideas - both the end result and the actual process are much tighter with the backstory tunes. As a listener, I find pieces that come from a specific musical or extra-musical place - e.g. DJA's "Transit," Maria Schneider's "Hang Gliding," Don Byron's "Himm," Geoffrey Keezer's Aurea, Dave Douglas' work - often more immediately compelling.

I sympathize with the point that's being made - music composed under the banner of projects, suites, cycles, oratorios, and other lofty terms, with heady influences recognized and loved by traditional arts-funding agencies, are what tend to get the money. Whether the end result is technically and formally a suite, song cycle, or Hiphopketball: A Jazzebration is sometimes besides the point. John Murph and Joe Phillips raise another valid point, that the use of hip-hop, r&b and broken-beat influences by Black jazz artists is somehow less "jazzy," less "academic," or less "interview music" than the incorporation of rock (indie or no) and various indigenous and folk musics from around the world. Certainly, the role of electronics in modern classical and jazz pieces is generally closer to the world of Subotnick than J Dilla. I wonder if Miguel Atwood-Ferguson's Suite for Ma Dukes would have garnered grant funding.

Francofolies Day 1

To make a truly reductive comparison, Corneille is Quebec's answer to John Legend. A singer-songwriter of Rwandan descent who moved to Montreal in 1997, he is one of the few, if not only, francophone soul artists in this province, complete with a large band and equally large stage show. To open the 21st edition of les Francofolies, he welcomed guests from the multicultural community of Quebec musicians.

The night opened with one of Corneille's big hits, "Ensemble," delivered with fantastic sound and groove by the tight band led by guitarist Andy Dacoulis. Corneille followed it up with one of a handful of tunes from his forthcoming album that he sprinkled throughout the set. They were all good tunes, if not as memorable as some of his earlier hits, and sometimes stalled the momentum of the night.

The first guest was multifaceted Luck Mervil, performing a duet on "Africain à New York," a rewrite/cover of Sting's "Englishman in New York." It worked surprisingly well, with a driving highlife beat courtesy of drummer Sam Harrisson, Denis Chiche on percussion and J-B Carbou on bass. Quebec hip-hop group Sans Pression followed, with Corneille singing their hooks and the MC hyping up the crowd.

After a couple more Corneille-only tunes, guitarist Lokua Kanza came out on stage. Corneille was quite candid about the influence Kanza has had on him musically and personally, opening doors for his own success in Quebec. Kanza's emotionally charged, keening tenor was showcased on "Wapi Yo." Marie-Luce Beland, a young singer I had never heard of, came out and performed two songs and was trying her damnedest to bring some life into the crowd. Her delivery and stage presence reminded me a bit of Divine Brown, with a swaggering kiss-off in "Je ne t'appartiens pas." After Corneille took the momentum down a gear again with the slow jam "Le bon Dieu est une femme," the energy rocketed up with compa legends Kassav'. Fresh off their closing show for Nuits D'Afrique, the crowd went crazy for their three-song set, including their ubiquitous Afro-party staple "Zouk la se sel medikamen nou ni."

A couple of more slow tunes from our evening's host, and the night ended close to two hours later, with "Les marchands de rêves" (the title track of his last French album) and "Parce qu'on vient de loin" (his breakout hit). It was here that the John Legend comparison bore itself out - fronting a choir and all the invited guests, hints of gospel and the complete R&B tradition were present in the tunes and in Corneille's slightly weathered tenor. There's very few artists in Quebec doing what Corneille is doing - in some ways he's more aligned with the Toronto R&B scene of Jully Black, Divine Brown and Jacksoul, and for that I applaud him. The band (rounded out by keyboardist Alister Philips and MD/guitarist Andy Dacoulis) was uniformly superb, with a horn section featuring Ron DiLauro on trumpet. If the show had been shortened by half an hour and had three less ballads, it would have been a truly incredible opening show.

Nuits D'Afrique 2009

I caught a couple of shows at Nuits D'Afrique this year, my first time going to any of the festival's indoor programming.

Balattou was crammed likely beyond capacity for banjo player Jayme Stone, from Toronto, and griot Mansa Sissoko, now living in Quebec City. Their album Africa to Appalachia fully deserves its Juno award, tracing the African roots of the banjo and demonstrating the commonalities between traditional West African and American folk music, from bluegrass to Maritime fiddle tunes. Stone rarely sounded like a regular banjo player; with his instrument tuned down to F to match Sissoko's kora, he sounded at times like a second kora, or in the vein of Malian guitarists like Ali Farka Touré and Boubacar Traoré. The rhythm section of bassist Paul Mathew and drummer Nick Fraser, on kit and calabash, rounded out the sound and gave it a deeper bottom than on the record. One thing about the intimacy of mostly acoustic African music is how deep the groove can be at low volume.

This was starkly contrasted the following night with Peru's Novalima, highly electrified and using the amplification to power their grooves. They're a band that rocks the party hard, mixing reggae and electo touches into Afro-Peruvian music - or would it be better described as bringing cajons into reggae? I was compelled by the songs where the polyrhythms of Afro-Peruvian music (and Novalima's three percussionists) were allowed to shine. The majority of the set was typical of electro-reggae-pop from across the diaspora, with the guitarist unleashing a dubbed-out siren from some sort of oscillator on top of his amp. I was impressed with how seamlessly loops were integrated into the band and how tight the percussionists played to the beats.

Afro Cuban All Stars & Los Van Van - 07/12/2009

The fiesta cubana that closed the 30th anniversary of the Jazz Fest was a case study in the contrasts of Cuban music. The All Stars, led by Juan de Marcos Gonzalez, are rooted in the big band tradition of Afro-Cuban son and Latin jazz, with bold brass, an impeccable rhythm section, fantastic soneros, and killer soloists. Pianist Gabriel Hernandez was a marvel, holding down rock solid montunos, turning in great solos and a beautiful piano introduction to "Guajira." The harmony vocals on "Chan Chan" were pristine, and each of the soneros came down to the platform below the stage to interact more closely with the crowd.

Los Van Van's showcased their funkier timba, with a dense blend of violins, trombone, sax and synthesizers. They performed a solid cover of "Birdland," so seamlessly integrated into their sound that it took me a while to clue into the tune. Adding to the Michael Jackson tributes throughout the festival, the horn line from "Shake Your Body Down to the Ground" made an appearance, as did the "Hey Jude" singalong. I've been meaning to check out Van Van more deeply for a long time, and this show, as well as their midnight set at L'Astral, provided a solid catalyst.

Ornette Coleman Quartet - Theatre Maisonneuve, 7/9/2009

It wouldn't be an Ornette Coleman concert if it wasn't intensely challenging. After being presented the Miles Davis award, Coleman went on one of his trademark tangential speeches about love and life. He gave a similar sermon in a press conference earlier in the day, bewildering many journalists unfamiliar with his style.

Bassists Tony Falanga (on contrabass) and Al Macdowell (on electric piccolo bass) did most of the heavy lifting, playing the heads of "Blues Connotation" and "Peace" in unison, with Ornette only coming in afterwards to blow. Ornette sat centre stage, spending most of his time on alto, only picking up the trumpet and violin for a phrase or two, for a burst of different colour, and possibly to cue changes. His sound is still full in its idiosyncratic way, showing no real signs of his physical frailty.

Denardo Coleman had two modes on drums: frenetic swing interspersed with fills (which lended itself to the edge-of-your-seat momentum of the group), or a sloppy, non sequitur backbeat. The effectiveness of Denardo's complete lack of hookup with the rest of the band is debatable - my friend Adam Kinner at the Gazette really liked that element, but I prefer my Ornette with a more musically sensitive drummer (Billy Higgins, Ed Blackwell, Jack DeJohnette). The superimposition of the backbeat on a truly gorgeous ballad early in the set really annoyed me. When it recurred throughout the set, I wasn't sure if it was some sort of inside joke.

A singer came out towards the end of the set, singing and reciting poetry half in English, half in Japanese. In true Ornette fashion, she was not acknowledged, her presence as ephemeral as the music. I left shortly after, to catch Curumin outside on the groove stage, missing what was by all accounts a tremendous reading of "Lonely Woman."

Bill Frisell Quartet - Theatre Jean-Duceppe, 7/8/2009

I've been spoiled by my Frisellian experiences. Watching him in the intimacy of the now-departed spectrum, both shows were full of heart-rending melodicism, with Frisell's endearingly strange guitar tone seeping in through my pores, emphatically moving me towards laughter or sorrow. In the much larger space of Jean-Duceppe, I wondered if that would happen again.

For the majority of the set, it did not. Tony Scherr was his usual self, dancing around with his upright bass and providing the exact bottom the tunes needed - a cushion on "Moon River," dirty walking, or angular broken feels. Ron Miles was the sound of surprise here, with his clarion melodies suddenly dissipating into extended trumpet techniques, and playing underneath Frisell in pedal tone. Rudy Royston responded to Frisell's music like a modern jazz drummer would. Which is to say, he was lacking the ragged, surprising edginess that characterizes Frisell's interface with Matt Chamberlain, Joey Baron and Kenny Wollesen. He was a fantastic player, whose music I greatly enjoyed, don't get me wrong. There was a certain novelty in hearing Frisell's music framed by that particular style of drumming. He was missing that wonk factor that would have elevated his hookup with Frisell and Scherr. The set was constantly attention-grabbing, and everyone played great. It was just missing that weird sense of emotional engagement that characterizes so much of Frisell's music for me.

The band hit that other level in the encores, reaching that epic grandeur of the Spectrum shows. Coming out to thunderous applause, Frisell set up an electronic soundscape that sounded like a music box and an Atari in a punch-up. The band eventually coalesced into "Baba Drame," which then led into Burt Bacharach's "What the World Needs Now." Here it was - that keening melodic cry, from a band fused together, that dares you to be unmoved.

The second encore was prefaced by a rare Frisell speech. After noodling with the first three notes, he said, "I played this song on nearly every gig for eight years. And then one night I was playing with Rudy, and there was a big celebration, and I didn't feel like I needed to play it anymore." Following that, he launched into another fabulous and gutwrenching version of "A Change is Gonna Come." Whether it was necessary or not, it was more than welcome. As always, Frisell has wrangled his way near the top of my Jazz Fest list.

Haden Family & Friends - Theatre Maisonneuve, 7/8/2009

Sitting in the lobby waiting for the doors to open at the Charlie Haden concert, I heard one older Québécois man bemoan the lack of real jazz at the Jazz Festival. Part of me wondered whether he even bothered to look at this year's program; another part of me wondered whether he knew what ticket he had just purchased. Judging by the steady stream of people leaving throughout the show, many concertgoers bought a ticket based on Charlie Haden's name, and not the content of his last record, Ramblin' Boy.

It's a pity, because the concert was a solid set of great music, played by some phenomenal musicians. The band was staffed by the best in Nashville's bluegrass and newgrass - Stuart Duncan on fiddle, Rob Ickes on dobro, Sam Bush on mandolin, Bryan Sutton on guitar, Dan Tyminski on banjo, and Mark Fain trading off with Haden on bass - and the Haden offspring have uniformly moving voices. The triplet daughters in particular - Tanya, Petra, and Rachel - have a reedy blend that hearkens back to the family bands that populated the Midwest and South in the early 20th century, where Charlie's roots are.

The repertoire ranged from chugging bluegrass of opener "Going Down the Road Feeling Bad" and "Old Joe Clark" (which Haden admitted to quoting in his bass solo on "Ramblin'"), the loping melancholy 3/4 of so many Anglo-American folk tunes and early country classics, and tunes dear to Haden's heart. There was a story behind many of the tunes: "Ramblin' Boy" was taught to him in his childhood home by Mother Maybelle Carter herself.

Son Josh Haden came out and sang his original "Spiritual," a plea to Jesus to not die alone that was immensely passionate. Charlie even sang backup in a thin, raspy baritone on Roy Acuff's "Precious Jewel." Tyminski did most of the male lead vocal work, with his traditional twang. The rendition of "Man of Constant Sorrow" was true to his O Brother Where Art Thou? recording, with the other musicians chiming in on the responses.

Charlie reiterated the notion that good music is good music regardless of genre - a lesson lost on the exodus of purists.

RIP Len Dobbin

If this year's 30th anniversary didn't have a sombre lining to it with the constant Michael Jackson tributes, it certainly does now. Len Dobbin, journalist emeritus of the Montreal (and international) jazz scene for over 50 years, is gone.

Word is spreading via Facebook - the most details that have surfaced are here (French only). Len had been sick for many years, to varying degrees of severity - he had to be rushed out of the CKUT studios a couple of years ago. Since that incident he'd been weakened, but he looked to be in better form this year than last.

I can't express just how deep this loss is - Len, as an historian, wasn't just someone who memorized facts and trivia. He was there, for many things, and was incredibly passionate about the things he wasn't able to personally attend. When I first moved to Montreal, Dobbin's Den was the first jazz show I heard, and he served as a template for my own entry into CKUT. I've had the distinct honour of filling in for Len over the years -- the first time was quite possibly the most nervewracking two hours of radio I've ever done.

Len was truly a fantastic resource for us Montrealers, and a beautiful man. I was just hanging out with him in the press room, very aware of how lucky I was to be around him and other great journalists. It will be a very strange atmosphere in the press room today. He will be greatly missed.

EDIT: Via Christine Jensen, some of Len's beautiful photography.

Rocksteady @ FIJM

A few years after Motown's Funk Brothers blowout at the Jazz Fest, another group of crack musicians and honeyed vocalists rocked the Place des Festivals. Marcia Griffiths and Judy Mowatt of the I-Threes, Stranger Cole, Ken Boothe, Hopeton Lewis and the Tamlins graced the stage with a 2-hour Jamaican history lesson. Hearing a solid one-drop with a bounce that only comes from a true reggae drummer, with the undiminished vocal blend of the Tamlins, is a wonderfully enjoyable thing.

Each lead vocalist was solid in their own right. Highlights included Stranger Cole indulging in a freakazoid James Brown dance, and Marcia Griffiths' exhortation to indulge the band in a supremely grooving "rub-a-dub stylee." The requisite Bob Marley covers - Marcia and Judy singing "No Woman, No Cry" and "Could You Be Loved," the finale of everyone singing "One Love" - brought me back to my memories of porting in Jamaica off Cruise Ship X. Judy Mowatt attributed the musicality of so many Jamaicans to the grace of God. Montreal was grateful for them to share their gift with us.

Gazette colleagues Jake Shenker and Bernie Perusse have more reviews(incidentally, Bernie and FIJM head honcho André Menard were shaking their tailfeathers with equal, unrivalled enthusiasm); Natasha Hall provides the setlist.

Notes: the crew never actually left the stage for the encores, merely the rest of the singers came out to join those already on stage; the band was tight once they hit their grooves, but some of the entrances, punches, and endings were tighter in the media rehearsal; and special shoutout to Montreal's Mossman, who was instrumental in putting together this project and whose involvement went sadly unacknowledged.

Miscellaneous Jazz Fest notes

- Nomadic Massive rocked the Groove stage July 3. MCs Waahli and Narcicyst wore white gloves in tribute to the late MJ, as the band, featuring Butta Beats behind the kit, laid down some solidly funky backdrops for the MCs and vocalists (rounded out by Vox Sambou, Lou Piensa, Meryem Medusa and Tali). Nice to see them bring their multilingual hip-hop on a big stage.

- Also big up to my brothers and sisters in Kalmunity, who absolutely owned the Groove stage two nights later. After 6 years (and counting!) of slogging it out at the tiny Sablo Café, they seized their opportunity to shine on a large scale. I only caught the last half of the show, after Lionel Loueke's set, but was beaming with pride to see my friends and colleagues Jahsun, Mark Haynes, Jordan Peters, Zibz and Yussef holding it down behind Jonathan Emile, Katalyst, Malika, and Fabrice Koffy.

- Caught a snippet of Ola Onabule on my way out last night. Decent enough start to the set (and his keyboard player is fantastic), but it went downhill with pseudo-operatic vocals and a lot of crowd-baiting.

Anat Cohen Quartet - L'Astral, 7/6/2009

It was such a pleasure to see four musicians having visible fun onstage. When flowing lines weren't exiting her clarinet, Anat Cohen was off to the side, dancing and encouraging her bandmates with shouts of "Yeah!" She and guitarist Gilad Hekselman shared a similar liquid tone, with more emphasis on the body of the note than the attack. Anchored by bassist Joe Martin and drummer Daniel Freedman, the quartet played a mix of truly swinging tunes.

The set opened with Anat's arrangement of Fats Waller's "Jitterbug Waltz," the head as a syncopated 9/8 Latin creature, releasing into swing for the solos. Cohen really hooked into the rhythm section, phrasing her lines with deep rhythmic intensity and locking in with Martin and Freedman. Hekselman phrased more like a horn player, riding over the rhythm section. All the soloists quoted the head, with varying degrees of liberty, to cue the end of their turns. Freedman's drum solo had him using his elbow to alter the pitch of his snare drum.

"The Purple Piece," an original Cohen composition, was a minor 3/4 tune that made great use of Cohen's facility with pitch-bend and glissando. Hekselman unleashed his chops on this tune, tapping a passage on the fretboard - perhaps in homage to visiting guitar heros Jeff Beck and Stanley Jordan. This led into a 6/8 Latin feel with Hekselman's bubbling comping.

"J Blues" opened with Cohen's intro, filling out a solo groove in the vein of Eddie Harris. Quotes from various big band chestnuts came out in the solos, including "Air Mail Special" - fitting, coming off Anat's Clarinetwork tribute to Benny Goodman at the Vanguard last week. Martin and Freedman hooked up on a soft yet intensely propulsive swing feel, Freedman swinging the side-stick like Philly Joe.

After a gorgeous reading of "Body and Soul," the set ended with the choro "Uma Zero" by the grand master Pixinguinha. Freedman used his floor tom as a surdo and nailed the particular brand of snare-drum swing of a Brazilian percussion group.

Hommage Eval Manigat - L'Astral, 7/6/2009

I didn't know Eval Manigat. I didn't know about Montreal's world music scene until a few years ago. By that time, Manigat wasn't as active on the scene as he had been in the 1980s and 1990s, focusing his energy on establishing the St-Marc Music Academy in his native Haiti. So the nostalgic element was a bit lost on me; the emotion I felt was more along the lines of wishing I had known him. A great bassist, vibraphonist, arranger and composer that passed away last year, the program was comprised of his tunes, save a couple of tributes penned for the concert.

The band featured Eval's compatriots from over the years, ranging from singers Karen Young and Sara Renelik, a horn section of saxophonists Yvan Belleau and Jean-Pierre Zanella, trumpeter Jocelyn Couture and Richard Gagnon on trombone, pianist Jean-Francois Groulx, bassist Fritz Pageot (father of Ric'key), and drummer Yvon Plouffe. Jean Vanasse assumed Eval's position behind the vibes on a few tunes.

The show opened with Belleau's tune "Compas pour Eval," a great fanfare and tribute, featuring Belleau and Groulx and the solid percussion section. Manigat's tunes incorporated rhythms from across the Caribbean, from Haitian compa to Cuban descargas, all with a strong sense of melody. All the soloists were in top form - Groulx's montunos were powerful, especially on "Rhapsody pour Haiti" alongside Richard Lalonde's flute; Martial Méroné's crystal clean Stratocaster evoked the Afro-pop diaspora. Young Haitian poet/vocalist Jahnice and pianist Genevieve St-Pierre offered a moving piece called "Bam La Vi," and Young, accompanied by pianist Tim Jackson, sang one of Eval's beautiful ballads, "Le Silence."

May Eval rest in peace - his music lives on in his colleagues, and the St-Marc Academy which will prove to be his legacy.

Le Large Ensemble - L'Astral, 7/3/2009

Dan Thouin could easily move his mattress to the Jazz Fest site. The multi-keyboardist is renowned around Montreal for his sonic mastery and his musical sensitivity, but doesn't always have the room to stretch out. With his Large Ensemble paying tribute to the music of early electric Miles, he had all the room he needed.

The band was comprised of some of the best and brightest on the local scene: Jocelyn Tellier and Olivier Langevin on guitars, Jim Doxas and Tony ("The Buddha of Beat") Albino on drums, Remi-Jean Leblanc on electric bass, Miguel Zaraipa on percussion, and a horn section of Maxime St-Pierre on trumpet, Yannick Rieu on soprano sax and Chet Doxas on bass clarinet and tenor sax. Thouin limited himself exclusively to Rhodes, run through Moogerfooger delay and modulation pedals. His improvising language is as solid as his attention to sound, incorporating elements of all the keyboard associates of that period - primarily Herbie in note choice and phrasing but with Chick's penchant for ring modulator and distortion, and Zawinul's swath of colour.

The band nodded at the 70s Miles era, without mimicing it outright - Yannick sounded especially indebted to Wayne on soprano, and Maxime St-Pierre had Miles' darkness in his sound without always deploying that characteristic weep. Tellier and Langevin combined with Thouin for some swirling soundscapes, while the three drummers and Remi-Jean hooked up to drive the group forward. Chet Doxas took some superb turns on bass clarinet and tenor. Tellier had a smooth, distorted sound for his solos, while Langevin sometimes got lost in the mix, but seemed to be unleashing Nels Cline-ish bursts of sound.

My favourite tunes of the set were the percolating take on "It's About that Time," with the band ferociously owning that groove, and the melancholy read of "In a Silent Way." It should not be another five years between a reunion of this Large Ensemble. If you can't get enough Dan Thouin at the festival, he's playing with Jedi Electro (joined by fellow journeymen Alex McMahon, Martin Lizotte and Jean-Phi Goncalves) at the Savoy at midnight tonight and tomorrow.

Lionel Loueke - L'Astral, 7/5/2009

What a brilliant show by Lionel Loueke and his trio at the new L'Astral. The same members, but different concept, from his Gilfema group, the trio played music from Loueke's Blue Note album, Karibu, far more powerful and engaging live than on the record.

Drummer Ferenc Nemeth and bassist Massimo Biolcati (the brains behind the iReal Book app) have a tremendous hook-up, ranging from the broken straight-eighth grooves to full-out walking swing. The metric shifts that dominate Loueke's music were performed with unified elasticity, and Nemeth's drumming style brings out the musicality of them, and not the mathematics, the way Marcus Gilmore might. Nemeth's small arsenal of percussion - cowbell and woodblock integrated to his kit, tambourine and dumbek off to the side - provided a novel percussive texture change behind Biolcati's bass solos. Nemeth has a way of building and releasing rhythmic tension alongside Loueke and Biolcati, without ever copying their lines verbatim. His solo on "Seven Teens," starting only on the snare and hi-hat while feathering the kick, as Biolcati and Loueke nailed the downbeats, was the highlight of the set.

Biolcati has a plucky attack in his upper register with a round woodiness on the bottom, a great anchor. His opening solo on the second tune had him anchoring the groove on low notes while filling in the gaps. The tune had a feel of metrically-shifted highlife, with Biolcati and Loueke in unison, opening up in the bridge.

Loueke was in phenomenal form throughout the show. Playing a nylon-string Godin guitar (and shouting out Robert Godin, who was in the audience) through Whammy and delay pedals, Loueke's sound was clean, with a warbling chorus effect via the Whammy's not-quite-accurate pitch tracking. In my brief interview with him, he affirmed that African music in all its forms is still a very prevalent and personal influence, and it was clear throughout his music: utilizing the clicks and pops of African dialects as another form of percussion; sticking a piece of paper under his strings to emulate a kora; the vocal harmonizer splitting his voice into a South African gospel choir; and the killing juju groove of "Nonvignon," complete with an audience singalong and a guest on soprano saxophone whose name I didn't catch.

Like The Bad Plus, Loueke proved that powerfully engaging music doesn't always come at high volume - his solo intro to "Karibu" and his coda to the second tune held me and the rest of my table in rapt attention.