Dave Holland Prism power-up at Ronnie’s

Anticipation was biting the diners and drinkers circling the stage, and up there waiting for Dave Holland and his band to plug in and find their positions under the heavy spots, the club's compare was informing the floor that the double bassist's debut at Ronnie's was in fact with Miles Davis in 1969, the finer details of which, he explained, "Dave would probably go through later..."

As much as a milestone moment that gig was forty-five years ago, you fast got the impression from all the welcoming whistles and cheer that, like Holland himself, tonight's crowd was more concerned with the now, this gig, this band and the intoxicating self-titled album they dropped late last year.

So it was lights down and down to business, as this all-star outfit of guitarist Kevin Eubanks, pianist and keyboard player Craig Taborn and drummer Eric Harland, threw themselves into the bassist's ‘A New Day’. Growling from the get-go, the tune's repetitive, low-end bass vamp, urgent piano and stuttered, snare-driven beat at once filled the room, bedecked with a dirty, distorted blues solo from Eubanks.

If the band's immediate sound, and this fearless opener, screamed swing, 1970s Miles and Mahavishnu, Eubank's lengthy ‘Evolution’ added all the thrills of straight-ahead rock. Crawling out of some high-register bowed bass, feint cymbal rolls and Taborn slowly scraping the strings inside his piano, Eubanks' sustained, muscular guitar melody mutated into something more venomous, and an odd-time riff reminiscent of Miles' "It's About That Time", had it been covered by Led Zeppelin.

When the guitarist eventually stepped off the gas and reprised the original theme, some swirling organ and a funky, hip-hop-style hook from Holland helped brush it through a long, but hypnotic fade out. Out of that fade, against the natural buzz of the amps, Holland's introductory solo to "The Empty Chair" (dedicated to his late wife, Clare) cajoled some pensive playing from all, particularly Holland himself, essaying spacious and lyrical lines across a slow, blasé beat from Harland, so crisp you could make out every minute subdivision.

Elsewhere, Taborn's ‘True Meaning of Determination’ spotlit Harland's tireless ability to hover, and improvise over odd-time signatures. During a volcanic solo in which he played between a regular kit and much smaller, slack-skinned set-up to his left, it was debatable as to whether he was taking his cues from the piece's montuno-style head, Holland's ferocious finger work, or the clinking of glasses and cutlery around the club.

The drummer's own ballad ‘Breathe’ further-transfixed the room. Eased in with Taborn alone, deploying some vigorous, classical-like chords and rolls, the pretty piece swelled to embrace brushes, soft bass and a cascading single-note guitar drone, all of which factored in its emotive climax.

By the time the band reappeared to rip through encore ‘The Watcher’, it was obvious Holland wasn't going to conclude with some last-minute musings on Miles. Besides, the band had already paid tribute to the great trumpeter with a stimulating set that constantly grooved, moved, and flipped stylistically, just the way Davis did.

– Mark Youll

The Danes get dancing at Aarhus Jazz Festival, Denmark


The Danish word ‘hugeligt’, which loosely translates as cosy, is a perfect way to describe the small but perfectly formed city of Aarhus. Dotted with picturesque squares, gardens, churches, cobbled streets and the kind of rectangular, functional but soberly stylish buildings that the Scandinavians do particularly well, it is a place with a distinct atmosphere of calm and contentedness that simply seemed to make punters listen more intently to the acts on an excellent bill. Two stellar trios stood out: firstly Japanese pianist Makiko Hirabayashi’s group, featuring a couple of great Danes, double bassist Klavs Hovman and drummer-percussionist Marilyn Mazur, was one of the highlights of the closing weekend. Vaguely recalling My Song-era Jarrett, Hirbayashi played melodies that were loose and leisurely but had an intense rhythmic fire provided by her accompanists, in particular Mazur whose clever subversion of marching beats and African clavé patterns provided a joyousness that matched the sun-kissed skies.

In complete contrast was a unique Danish-American trio formed by drummer Stefan Pasborg, saxophonist-clarinetist Lars Greve and pianist Aaron Parks (pictured top). Given the fact that the latter was standing in at very short notice for the scheduled Carsten Dahl, who dropped out on health grounds, the musicians had precious little time to rehearse, and if there was the slightest reticence then it was soon overcome in an absorbing set that moved stealthily between driving rhythms, shifting tonality and still-of-the-night contemplation, in which Greve’s sensual long tones came into their own. This kind of inspired international collaboration did not detract from the breadth of Danish talent, of which a striking example was Ornithopter, which was akin to hearing Mr Coleman’s classic quartet with the leader replaced by Roswell Rudd.

In trumpeter Scott Westh and trombonist Jens Kristian Bang they had an expressive and wholly sensitive front line. Having said that the presence of several other local players who appeared in multiple groups – Hammond organist Kveld Lauritsen, drummer Per Gade, saxophonists Jens Kluver, Christian Wuust and Hans Ulrik– also made for enjoyable moments, particularly when the musicians played in the many small cafes in town where there was no need for amplification, and the rich timbres of each instrument could be enjoyed to the full. Lastly two very contrasting performances really underlined how open-minded the programming is.

The pan-European ensemble Melting Pot Made In Wroclaw, featuring Poles, trumpeter Piotr Damasiewicz and clarinettist Mateusz Rybicki, German drummer Fabian Jung, Danish electronicist and Soren Lyngso Knudsen two Irish, guitarist Shane Latimer and vocalist Lauren Kinsella, was a freely improvised session that had more moments of fascination than flatness, while a couple of gigs by the quite fabulous guitarist Uffe Steen, one in particular with American vocalist James Loveless, showed that the blues is alive and well in Denmark. The sight of a few hundred people shimmying in a tent to the sound of ‘Stormy Monday Blues’ was just as uplifting as that of an audience listening rapt to abstract sounds produced very much in the moment. The stylistic range proved a fitting allegory for the Aarhus jazz festival itself: challenging its audience all the while making it get up and dance.          

– Kevin Le Gendre

– Photo courtesy: Inge Lynggaard Hansen

 

Christian McBride, Mehliana and Pharoah Sanders make for epic North Sea Jazz Festival

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With the proliferation of jazz festivals in recent times you would be less likely to raise an eyebrow if the programme from one of the newer promoters were to heavily featured non-jazz acts. But, for a 39 year veteran such as the North Sea Jazz Festival, and particularly if your expectations lean more towards the mainstream then acts such as Robin Thicke or Pharrell Williams might well be considered as blurring the lines (pun intended) between what is, and what is not, jazz.

However, the NSJF's diverse programming is its strong point, held this year between 11-13 July, with 13 performance stages logistically positioned at the Rotterdam Ahoy complex, the bedazzling three-day timetable is big enough to allow you to map out a personal festival experience to your own liking or experimentation.

Entering the Ahoy is like being teleported into a musical theme park or village with music being performed at every corner. With great variety of eating and hanging out places such as Central Square also various retail outlets – should you wish to indulge in some festival merchandising therapy – the outside world becomes far removed from your existence. This festival village even has its own currency, the munten (or token) for purchasing all refreshments and culinary delights.

The Artist In Residence at this year's festival was Christian McBride (pictured top), which saw several featured performances by him on each day. A jazz bassist of formidable ability and reputation he performed in various settings; big band, small combo and with his regular trio of Rodney Green (drums) and Christian Sands (piano).

Robert Glasper's Experiment featuring Lalah Hathaway and Bilal were one of the first acts to set things rolling. Together with the Metropole Orkest their musical statement blends and crosses the boundaries of jazz, gospel, R&B, hip hop with a tinge of classical. Even the most conservative listener could endorse their rendition of Stevie Wonder’s 'Jesus Children of America' as something special. However, if 1970-80s funk also happens to be your thing, a dash across to the large Nile Arena and you could get your dose from the Parliament-Funkadelic and ex-James Brown bass man Bootsy Collins who showed a strident determination to 'tear the roof off the sucker'!  Wielding a sparkling star-shaped bass guitar he would occasionally turn to face his spacesuit clad Funk Unity Band to summon up more theatrics, much to the delight of the audience.

In stark contrast Mavis Staples brought a sobering sanity to the Congo Stage with her gospel/blues tinged performance. The band laid down a soulful foundation complementing her smooth yet assertive tone on 'Respect Yourself’, which gave the song an authentic stamp redolent of the original Staple Singers.

Pharoah Saunders creates a meditate mood in the Hudson hall with Oli Hayhurst (bass), Gene Calderazzo (drums) and William Henderson (piano). A long surging intro by the rhythm section to John Coltrane's 'Crescent' where Saunders weave his tenor sax motifs before a sweeping crescendo into the melody. This alone was ample confirmation of being at a jazz festival and for you to sit back into your chair assured of a joyful performance.

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Brad Mehldau
(keyboards/samplers - pictured above) and Mark Guiliana (drums/electronic gadgets) jointly know as Mehliana performed a mix of electronica fusing jazz, funk, prog rock to a captivated audience, which at times seems serious. As usual at the NSJF diversity can always be found not too far from the mainstream. In the Nile Arena following on from the Robin Thicke performance, Pharrell Williams draws a crowd that fills the arena conjuring up visions of sardines in a can. Surprisingly people found room to sway and dance when he performed the chart topper he co-wrote with the rapper Nelly, 'It's Getting Hot In Here'.

Day 2 saw Quincy Jones being honoured in the Amazon Auditorium with the Metropole Orkest Big Band, conducted by Jules Buckley they performed lush arrangements from the Jones catalogue. Later on in the day Quincy himself, presented his 'Global Gumbo Project' featuring the young Cuban pianist Alfredo Rodriguez, singer Nikki Yanofsky (who also appeared at the Love Supreme Festival) and Hungarian child prodigy, guitarist Andreas Varady. Quincy extolled their virtues as encouragement for each to do their best and for the audience to be impressed by his young protégés. Based on their performances no doubt we will be hearing more from them in the future.

Children Of The Light Trio (Danilo Perez, piano, John Patitucci, bass and Brian Blade, drums - pictured above) showed that they can conjure up musical magic without their mentor, Wayne Shorter. Their collective virtuosity gives them identity as they flow through genres and influences from Pan-American Latin, to classical and American jazz, though there are moments you anticipate Shorter will appear out of nowhere with a crowning embellishment.

Hammond organist Dr. Lonnie Smith with his guitar and drums trio show they can groove as well as take you to the outer edges of harmony incorporating synthesisers and electronic gadgetry. But it's Benny Golson with his poignant relating of the history behind each song played that really transforms the atmosphere of moderately sized Madera room to that of a cosy nightclub. His tribute to trumpeter Clifford Brown through his much-covered composition 'I Remember Clifford' was both beautiful and touching.

Surprisingly other artists such as French-Lebanese trumpeter Ibrahim Maalouf, Sons Of Kemet, singer Chloe Charles et al drew decent sized audiences, bearing testament to the strength of their musical offerings. It was surprising by the fact that Stevie Wonder's performance overlapped theirs. Such was Wonder’s attraction that the 15,000-plus capacity Nile Arena’s main entrances had to be closed with audience spilling over into the outer eating areas where it was an equal struggle to be able to view the show from various overhead cinema screens. Typically, Mr Wonder infused the mood with his wonder and closed the day where he held the audience spellbound for a marathon two-and-a-half-hour set where he also invited a gleeful Joss Stone onto the stage where they engaged in ad lib vocal exchanges.

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Day 3 kept the momentum going with great performances and feats of showmanship from Charles Bradley, Sharon Jones and the Daptone Super Soul Revue. Natalie Cole’s performance added a svelte sophistication to the mix and Cécile McLorin-Salvant (above) shows that the defining styles of past songstress (Holiday, Fitzgerald, Vaughan) remain fresh as well as timeless whilst pianist John Escreet with his trio featuring Evan Parker on saxophones showed that you can have form without melody and hold on to an audience.

A tough act to follow after Stevie Wonder's Day 2 closing performance, it was 90s hip-hop duo Outkast who would perform the closing act of the 2014 festival. It might be assumed that the ethos for their performance was one of trying to go out with a bang and perhaps the deafening sound was their way of trying to keep up with Mr. Wonder though not a convincing substitute. However, for the vast crowd it seemed to appeal that the jazz festival would end with no jazz as the performed popular hits such as ‘Ms Jackson’, ‘Roses’, ‘So Fresh So Clean’ and ‘Rosa Parks’.

Whatever, no one would imagine the festival promoters being disappointed with much this year as numbers in attendance made this the biggest ever NSJF, with tickets being completely sold out as it remains the biggest jazz festival in the world. There are so many to choose from these days but if you like your jazz festivals to be as a ‘festival on steroids’ and you also have a good amounts of sustaining energy then this is the one for you.

– Roger Thomas (story and photos)

 

Monty Alexander, Kenny Garrett and Ginger Baker at stellar Montreal Jazz Festival 2014

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The 35th Montreal Jazz spectacular offered what it always does, opportunity and encouragement to hook up the A-team, whatever project is in the works, show us its optimal incarnation. 

Beyond the blockbuster shows of Diana Krall and newbies Vintage Trouble, this was a boon to several stalwart bandleaders. Perhaps the most genial of these were Dr Lonnie Smith and Monty Alexander. The Turbanator, Dr Smith, fronted a crack octet, with five horns brought together by altoist Ian Hendrickson-Smith, including snakily soulful tenorist/bass clarinettist John Ellis. This organic, yet tight section (no pesky music to read) was anchored by the badass beats of Jonathan Blake and succinct guitarist Ed Cherry, with the doctor handling bass duties with his boots. 

Smith does the minimum to elicit the maximum, is always spontaneous and revels in showcasing his musicians. His double late night set at Gesu crescenodoed with a new schtick, wacking out basslines on his custom slaparoo walking stick whilst prerambulating through the wowed crowd. 

Two nights later at the same venue veteran entertainer Monty Alexander held sway with a similarly ambitious crew. His Harlem-Kingston Express is a unique yoking of jazz and reggae, twinning stylistically respective drummers Obed Calvaire and Karl Wright and acoustic/electric bassists Hassan Shakur and Courtney Panton. At a signal from Alexander at the piano the deftly acoustic cocktail jazz half of the band cut abruptly, letting the reggae boys drop. Alexander was as mercurial as ever but announced bluntly at the end of the set, “That’s all folks!” and hastily walked offstage. Blaming strong Canadian coffee for overpowering him, he eventually returned with “What de hell!” and launched in to a bonus number. Turns out he suffered a mild heart attack and spent the following day in hospital getting checked out, though no-one would have known from his merry yodel of goodbye after the encore. 

The differing feel of jazz and reggae drums is made salient in the Harlem-Kingston Express but veteran Jamaican drummer Wright, who’d otherwise dutifully installed the groove like Monty’s sometime colleague Sly Dunbar, exploded on cue with a solo finale to the evening. Talking of Sly himself, wearing a workman’s hat behind the kit, he and Robbie Shakespeare had opened for Burning Spear the night before at Metropolis, letting frontman (and tour manager) Peter Gayle croon with such fare as Stevie Wonder’s tearjerker ‘Lately’, while they plied trademark riddims in back.

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Ginger performs gingerly

Dropping flamboyant (double flam) beats, with his own health travails, was Ginger Baker, who played a low key yet big scale show with his Jazz Confusion quartet featuring bassist Alec Dankworth at Theatre Maisonneuve. Check Wikipedia for Baker’s copious drum specs and imagine assorted music shops along his tour route amassing his arsenal, as he himself travels light (not a polo pony in sight). Not too much of his impressive rig with requisite twin bass drums was deployed when he took a first solo, and its bombast bore no relevance to the rest of the music, it was as clumsy as a teenager clobbering buckets in the street. However by the end of the concert (notwithstanding a five minute intermission – he kept prefacing the more demanding 12/8 grooves with, “this one is the Baker killer”), Ginger’s synch with Ghanaian percussionist Abass Dodoo became steadily mesmerising.

Those familiar with Tony Palmer’s 1971 documentary Ginger Baker in Africa will dig that the trance like continuum of Fela’s grooves left an indelible stamp on the journeyman drum hero. The legacy of such quintessential experience made trots through ‘Footprints’ and ‘St Thomas’ sound positively bourgeois. Preferable were vehicles that telescoped his African adventures, such as ‘Ain Temouchant’ which Baker told us commemorates a location in the Atlas Mountains where “with, great aplomb, I drove my car at very high speed off the mountain – into an olive tree.”

Pointing a drumstick at Pee Wee Ellis, Baker taunted defiantly “He’ll probably die first!” Ellis, sitting on a stool, proved the perfect compliment to the arthritic Baker. Admirably lean and to the point, the dry James Brown alum took sensible forays into the upper register and, beyond winking gratuities – like slipping in the horn line to ‘Cold Sweat’ – played with more jazzy logic than expected.

Scheila-Gonzalez-Montreal-2014-

Side-women have it

Sideman saxophonists were notable at this year’s Montreal, and let’s amend that to sidewomen, because Sharel Cassity more than pulled her weight in an allstar (if strangely unscheduled) septet featuring Tommy Campbell, Cyrus Chesnut and Terell Stafford, opening for Aretha Franklin. Multi instrumentalist Scheila Gonzalez (above) was also amazing, building her tenor solo with all the soul/virtuosity of Ronnie Laws/Ernie Watts on ‘Peaches in Regalia’ with Dweezil Zappa’s six-piece Zappa Plays Zappa group at Metropolis (she bagged an instrumental Grammy for such a performance in 2009 by the by). 

Another tenor playing sidekick, Timothy McFatter, was exhorted to take it higher by Troy Andrews and duly did during Trombone Shorty (below) and Orleans Avenue’s incendiary ‘Fire and Brimstone’ return engagement at Metropolis. Also, uncredited local ringer Andre Leroux, buried in the ranks of her backing orchestra, blew an outstanding solo behind an appreciative Aretha Franklin. 

Choice gigs at Theatre Jean Duceppe, Cinquieme Salle and Club Soda

Beyond Aretha Franklin's nostalgia fest at Salle Wilfrid Pelletier, the most memorable version of 'Say A Little Prayer' was delivered by the superbly athletic Kenny Garrett Quintet. Garrett hypnotised Theatre Jean Duceppe on 1 July, with his whinnying soprano and throat singing-in-tongues mantra ‘Pushing the World Away’, the eponymous cut from his intense Mack Avenue CD, which wins my vote for tune title of the year.

Cinquieme Salle, something of a smaller version of Gesu, that often hosts theatrical asides to the main programming, has been a welcome addition to the serious jazz roster recently and was the ideal room to host Randy Weston in duo with scrappy tenor firebrand Billy Harper. Weston doesn’t like to work too hard – transporting his massive six foot eight frame around at age 88 is surely work enough – but he dispensed fresh sagacities over his well oiled perennials ‘Little Niles’ and ‘High Fly’ as Harper dug for other profundities. It was welcome to hear more expressionistic playing amid all the buttoned up virtuosi prevalent at the festival. 

Though my favorite oasis - because of the venue’s cabaret informality and approximate hit times - schedule clashes dragged me away from Club Soda too early on several occasions. I caught only a smidgin (though enough to get the gist) of Tuareg bluesman Omar “Bombino” Moctar, who was nice to hear without the reverb Dan Auerbach likes to shower over the Nonesuch CDs he produces, and not much more of Jose James, Blue Note’s suspiciously good looking darling whose lyrics – “Come to me baby/Love me tonight/Stay with me angel/Rest of my life” – failed to convince. 

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More compelling were gravel voiced Piedmont blues revisionist Guy Davis, who won over with his crowd pleasing harmonica feature ‘Did You See My Baby?’ and better still, the unclassifiable Benjamin Clementine, who, shrouded in darkness onstage announced “I am alone in a box of stone,” thence delivering his (in attempt to classify) spellbinding phantom-of-the-opera-meets-Screamin’ Jay Hawkins rendition of “Cornerstone.”

Time will tell whether Clementine makes the cut for a return engagement at this festival famed for record breaking attendances, where the basic requirement is that you are not only brilliant, but bums-on-seats brilliant.

– Michael Jackson (Story and photos)

 

Theo Parrish dancing to his own beat at Barbican

House is synonymous with dance. The natural successor to disco and the co-conspirator of techno, the genre is intended to obey a time-honoured impulse in African-American culture – ‘you gotta get up to get down’ – instead of observing the more detached stance of the ‘head nod’, or indeed ‘the profile’ that is largely prevalent in hip-hop.

Interviewed by Josey Rebelle for Time Out prior to this gig, Theo Parrish, a Detroit artist whose Sound Signature catalogue has made him a seminal name in house, made this important point. “People don't know how to dance anymore.” If that was a blunt denunciation of a certain self-consciousness if not confected uber-cool that effectively restricts people from really feeling house music then Parrish addressed the malaise within moments of leading a stellar ensemble – Amp Fiddler [keys], Duminie De Porres [guitar], Akwasi Mensah [bass], Myele Manzanza [drums] – on stage for this sold-out performance. He told assembled fans that his ultimate goal was unity. To that end they had to see their seats as springboards rather than cushions.

A few songs later the crowd duly complied, but it was more than just the beauty of the music that prompted the response to Parrish’s call. His master stroke was to include in his ensemble four brilliant dancers who essentially acted as additional band members, capturing the kinesis of the beat and throwing it back to the audience by way of choreography that blended a sharp pop ‘n’ lock thrust with the looser, more fluid upswing of jazz dance. Just a week before this gig bassist Mensah had performed The Dynamics Of Perception, a brilliant live soundtrack at the Purcell room that also built a bridge between music and dance on film, and this gig seemed to be an uncanny and logical extension of that premise. It was fascinating to see how much the dancers completely led the audience, raising its energy levels time and again with a virtuosic step just as the climax of a piano improvisation can draw a sharp intake of breath from any truly attentive listener.  

Dancer as soloist may have implied jazz, but Parish’s arrangements and musical sensibilities made an entirely explicit application thereof. Any number of songs, particularly ‘Top Of The World’, ‘Chemistry’ and ‘Solitary Flight’, had the kind of harmonic framework of the hallowed 1970s fusion lexicon a la Herbie-Lonnie-Ubiquity, perhaps more pared down to up the rhythmic charge, all the while leaving ample pace for the likes of Fiddler, De Porres and Manzanza to fully extemporize. Particularly impressive was the way that the latter wove fine patchworks of syncopation around the primal 4/4 kick drum pulse, displaying a lightness of touch on the sticks and tympani mallets that brought additional layers to the percussive base of the music. Parrish himself played slinky keys and a sexily squelched-out moog bass, making the point that many progressive producers – think 4-Hero, I.G Culture, Stacey Pullen to name a few – are musicians as well as soundscapers, and that their formative references place Quincy Jones alongside Larry Heard.        

To a great extent, the major clue to the grand cultural sweep of Parrish’s world was the understated quote of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Too High’ that acted as a bed for his opening address to the audience. When one thinks of Wonder’s history – his development of Ray Charles’ soul; his immersion in the worlds of Ellington, Gershwin, the Beatles and John Coltrane; his creation of an advanced electronica and proto-Techno in the ‘70s that is still enormously relevant today – it is clear that the piece could not have been a mo’ better scene-setter.  

Then again the appearance of Parrish’s two vocalists, Ideeyah and Chalin Barton, sealed the Stevie deal insofar as they brought to the table the gospel energy at the epicenter of Parrish’s musical universe, underling the presence of the black church and the essence of congregation that underscore his appearances both as a club DJ and a concert hall bandleader.

If country preachers played no small part in the Civil Rights struggle then guitarist De Porres kept that political gospel connection alive when he recited a list of fallen freedom fighters, from Nat Turner to Fred Hampton, before launching into his most searing wah wah eruption of the night. That said, those with an open mind would have also seen that there was an immense historical dimension to this event. By bringing together jazz musicians, dancers, singers and great songs, Parrish was actually presenting an imaginative update of the heritage of Detroit: a Motown Revue for the millennium. The icing on the cake was the appearance of a British horn section, trumpeter Jay Phelps and tenor saxophonist Ray Carless. Their sweet, soaring brass had an unseated audience walking through the sky. Landmark gig from a monumental artist.     

– Kevin Le Gendre

– Photo by Egle Trezzi

 

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