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July 5, 2010

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Buy topamax no prescription, . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

Part of the charm of being at the fest is that there’s always a few events that, if you can catch them, Delaware DE Del. , make you feel especially lucky to be around. Buy topamax c.o.d., Such was the case for me at the Allen Toussaint solo show at the dear, sweet little Gesù Theater. Did I say intimate, Idaho ID . The Gesù is nothing if not intimate, Cheap topamax, and Toussaint was the perfect host, guiding us through his amazing songbook and regaling the crowd with selected reminiscences from an amazing career. If you don’t know, producer/songwriter/arranger/session musician Toussaint has been making records since the '50s, order topamax overnight delivery. He’s one of the most influential musicians to come out of New Orleans in the last half-century, and you remember a lot more of his songs than you think, buy topamax no prescription. Having relocated to New York City since Katrina while his home in New Orleans was being rebuilt, Osta alennus topamax, Toussaint enjoyed an ongoing residency at Joe’s Pub (another intimate venue), where he’s revisited much of the classic material that he performed at the Gesù.

Sitting alone at the piano, Minnesota MN Minn. , Toussaint cut an elegant figure. Wisconsin WI Wis. , His singing voice has never been anything to write home about, but he commands such love and respect that it feels like a small detail in a much bigger picture. Playing recurring riffs of his memorable songs, buy topamax, Toussaint gave a fantastic history lesson in American music as he described writing and arranging and producing hits for New Orleans characters like Ernie K-Doe (“Mother In-Law”) and Lee Dorsey (“Working In A Coal Mine”). Buy topamax no prescription, His song “Fortune Teller” was covered by the Rolling Stones, trumpeter Al Hirt had a big hit with “Java,” and Herb Alpert scored with a Toussaint melody that ended up as the theme of the 60s TV show The Dating Game. It should be noted that Toussaint was more than dexterous on keys, playing jazzy, classically, R&B funky and just plain pretty. Billig kaufen topamax, As Toussaint played these songs and strung together these amazing stories, a far bigger picture of the man began to emerge. Talk about mailbox money, cheap topamax from canada. Can you imagine the songwriting royalties Toussaint must receive. Buy topamax without prescription, His songs have been covered by artists like the Yardbirds and Warren Zevon (“A Certain Girl”), Boz Scaggs and Bonnie Raitt (“What Do You Want The Girl To Do?”) and, of course, discount topamax, the Pointer Sisters (“Yes We Can Can”). Don’t forget, Toussaint arranged the horns for The Band’s performance at The Last Waltz, buy topamax no prescription. Virginia VA Va. , And for every great tune I mention, there are dozens more; this would include his acclaimed CD with Elvis Costello, The River In Reverse, buy topamax. Toussaint even performed his ever-enduring motto “Everything I Do Is Gonna Be Funky (From Now On)."

The high point of the evening was Toussaint’s 20-minute discourse over the theme from “Southern Nights, Maine ME Me. , ” which was a huge hit for Glen Campbell in the '70s. As his hands ruminated over the lovely melody, Toussaint recalled his early childhood and family car trips out to the countryside to see his Creole relatives who refused to come into the city, αγοράζουν online topamax. His words painted a picture of love and serenity and childlike wonder and evoked the quiet, Topamax online kaufen, beautiful evenings that obviously inspired this tune.

In 2009 Toussaint taped a two-hour edition of Austin City Limits Buy topamax no prescription, , but somebody has to get this solo show down on film before it’s too late. The Gesù gig was an education, as well as an emotionally laden experience that served as a perfect tribute to this essential American artist, order topamax. Tonight, Hawaii HI , Toussaint will perform again, this time heading a brilliant band and performing the classic jazz material found on his critically acclaimed CD from last year, The Bright Mississippi, Iowa IA . As Toussaint explains it, Topamax sale, New Orleans, La., is the jewel of the Mississippi River, cheap topamax without prescription, hence the name The Bright Mississippi. Comprare topamax sconto, Got it? For his encore, Toussaint played a couple of tunes from the LP and a short version of “On Your Way Down,” which was covered by Little Feat back in the day, farmacia topamax baratos. This was a request from the Gesù audience shouted out by yours truly. Thanks again, Allen.

By the way, after dazzling the crowd for two hours, Toussaint went back to his hotel, cleaned up a bit and went out again to play onstage with Cyndi Lauper. Who Dat.

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July 4, 2010

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Buy keflex online cheap, . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

Canada loves guitars, Comprar keflex, that much is true. In some ways, the general population up here behaves as if it’s still the 20th century and the guitar remains the instrument of choice, Osta keflex. A couple of years ago at a Pat Metheny concert, Buy generic keflex, I even saw someone playing air guitar with serious abandon. Recently, in addition to the annual Jazz Festival, keflex pills, the producers have added the Montreal Guitar Show, Billiga keflex apotek, showcasing a series of concerts (including world-class players like Charlie Hunter and Sylvain Luc) and a convention hall housing more than 130 amazing guitar luthiers—acoustic and electric—and their wares. I attended a press conference honoring none other than George Benson, who was presented with a lovely tribute award, symbolically made of two different types of wood, one from North America and one from Africa, buy keflex online cheap.

In any case, watching guitarist John Scofield and his Piety Street Band perform at the Jazz Fest, Hawaii HI , I was amused/amazed at the heartfelt devotion to guitars displayed by Montreal fans. Rabatt kaufen keflex, In keeping with the festival’s never-ending emphasis on the music of New Orleans, Scofield seemed happy playing soulful old gospel tunes and trotting out copious amounts of electrified blues licks for a full house at the Théâtre Maisonneuve of Place des Arts. Scofield’s Piety project is more than a year old now, Oklahoma OK Okla. , but that didn’t seem to bother anyone. Cheap keflex from canada, The band was nice and tight, with singer/keyboardist John Cleary, drummer Terrence Higgins and famed Meters bassist George Porter Jr., acheter keflex bon marché. Buy keflex online cheap, Sounding like a junior-league Jeff Beck disciple, Scofield played a series of blues, ballads, gospel tunes and old rock ‘n’ roll for his audience. They loved it—me, Idaho ID , not so much.

I left before the end of Scofield’s show to run around the corner to the massive Salle Wilfred Pelletier hall for a performance by the Keith Jarrett Trio. Last year, keflex online kopen, the prickly pianist caused quite a stir as he castigated the Montreal crowd for taking pictures with their cellular phones. Where to buy cheap keflex, This was not an isolated incident, as Jarrett also insulted both the crowd and city at the Umbria Jazz Festival, where he is now not welcome to return, South Dakota SD . The Montreal programmers were more forgiving than those in Umbria, and as a result, we paid the price, buy keflex online cheap. The show was really quite remarkable, αγοράζουν online keflex, with Jarrett, bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Jack DeJohnette playing with telepathic accuracy and spellbinding creativity. The Keith Jarrett Trio is strictly a standards band, köpa keflex, and they played beautifully on classic compositions like “Autumn Leaves, Buy keflex online cheap, ” Ornette Coleman’s “When Will The Blues Leave” and “Why Does Everything Happen To Me.” Piano aficionados were oohing and aahing and laughing and cheering as Jarrett dazzled the crowd with his emphatic embellishments and virtuosic displays of pianistic dexterity. Jarrett was clearly feeling it, as he crouched half-standing, keflex over the counter, head bent low and hands flying across (or gently caressing) the keyboard. Buy cheap keflex online, One hour flew by like nothing, and after an extended intermission, the band came back and did it again, For keflex online. Buy keflex online cheap, Then, after the second set and a standing ovation, the band returned to take a bow, and some folks in the audience just had to disregard the emphatic house requests to refrain from taking photos. Jarrett saw camera flashes, Buy keflex online, got all huffy, reprimanded the crowd once again, took his faithful bandmates and walked off the stage, cheap generic keflex, refusing to return. παραγγείλετε online keflex, It’s too bad that this strange recurring confrontation between Jarrett and his audience continues to distract from some truly great performances. But, as they say, generic keflex, that’s showbiz. Keflex farmacia a buon mercato, As per usual, I went straight to the Gesù Theater for some late-night spiritual healing and some blissed-out shut-eye, this time with Polish trumpeter Tomasz Stańko and his bright young Finnish/Danish band. Stańko is a jazz veteran who began his career playing back in the '60s, buy keflex online cheap. In the course of the following decades, he’s played with a number of jazz greats, lost his teeth and had to completely rework his embouchure. Playing songs off his latest ECM disc, Dark Eyes, Stańko sounded sure and dramatic. It took some time, but he was in total control, thriving on lush ballads as the show progressed. The skilled group showed focus and determination under Stańko’s direction, and the Gesù crowd seemed quite pleased with the results. Later, after the show and back at the hotel, I watched and listened as Stańko entertained his band with stories of his groups in the '70s, before most of his current band members were even born.

That’s how jazz is, with its elders passing knowledge down to the eager young lions and crusty old journalists telling young readers some of the many things that they should know.

—photo by Michael Jackson

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Buy Keflex C.o.d.

July 3, 2010

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Buy keflex c.o.d., . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

How shall I put this. I know: The Montreal Jazz Festival is in full swing, order keflex from canada. Swing, Kjøpe keflex, get it. Jazz swings and the festival is totally swinging. People are getting loose, musicians are hanging out all over the place, and everybody is having a great time, buy keflex c.o.d.. Well, halvalla keflex apteekki, almost everybody. Ordering keflex from canada, I’m not sure that Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson were so happy last night. Collaborating with Masada madman John Zorn for a performance as an improvising trio, Reed and Anderson rediscovered the folly of fame and public perception, Vermont VT Vt. . In their press conference earlier that day, Billige keflex apotek, the charming old couple from New York City explained to a room full of journalists how their show would be a night of instrumental improvisation, not the traditional Reed or Anderson type show. Buy keflex c.o.d., Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell the fans who had already bought tickets to the well-publicized event.

Anderson, ordering keflex online cheap, Reed and Zorn had performed in this free-styled context recently in NYC, Arizona AZ Ariz. , and the avant-garde music they made might have fit better as a small segment of Zorn’s Masada Marathon the night previously. Instead, they performed as a headline (high-priced) act at the large Salle Wilfred Pelletier Hall, buy keflex, selling their recognizable names to an unsuspecting fan base that probably expected a little “Sweet Jane” or as least something off of Anderson's new CD. Comprar en línea keflex, Unfortunately, many of those Canadian fans were turned off by what they heard, many people walked out of the show after the first number, billig kaufen keflex, and there was some booing. Georgia GA Ga. , One disgruntled non-jazz fan yelled “Play some real music!” To which Zorn angrily replied, “If you don’t think this is real music, then get the fuck out!” Ouch, φτηνές φαρμακείο keflex. The threesome’s show clocked in at just under an hour, leaving the paying crowd feeling a little short-changed in more ways than one, buy keflex c.o.d..

Happily, Price of keflex, there was no such dissension at the Gesù Theater when up-and-coming pianist Robert Glasper was joined by trumpeter Terence Blanchard for a night of quality improvisation. Glasper is a talented musician who’s made a name working with hip hop and nu-soul artists as well as playing jazz. With the high-profile Blanchard as his special guest, Køb discount keflex, Glasper kept things on the jazz tip, Cheap keflex online, and he showed himself to be a savvy improviser brimming with creative ideas and sly humor. Blanchard, who’d performed an impressive concert with his own group the previous night, Rhode Island RI R.I. , was in good spirits, Keflex prices, played extremely well and teased Glasper playfully throughout the show. Buy keflex c.o.d., The duo started out with a swinging version of Freddie Hubbard’s “Up Jumped Spring” and touched on some other old standards before bringing out drummer Kendrick Scott and bassist Vicente Archer to flesh out their sound. Both Glasper and Blanchard are bold, confident players, acquistare a buon mercato keflex, and their show was filled with unexpected musical moments. αγοράζουν φτηνά keflex, Glasper proved to be the most mischievous, riffing on a Bette Midler tune in mock-earnestness before pulling the rug out beneath Blanchard. Blanchard and Glasper casually jived with the audience and entertained each other with clever quips and great musicianship, Wyoming WY Wyo. . Prediction: Glasper is destined to play music for a Spike Lee film—just wait and see.

From the Gesù I ran across the street to the Théâtre Jean-Duceppe to watch drummer Jack DeJohnette with an all-star band that included alto saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa, bassist Jerome Harris and scary-good guitar hero Dave Fusinski (known by some as Fuse), buy keflex c.o.d.. Utah UT , Dejohnette is a longtime Montreal favorite, and he is also town playing with the Keith Jarrett Trio. Still, keflex ordine on-line, this particular grouping had an ad hoc feel to it, Maryland MD Md. , and while the musicians were of the highest caliber and Dejohnette's compositions were all first rate, there was some implicit lack of direction onstage. Some folks found the problem to be with DeJohnette himself, acheter keflex bon marché, who seemed slightly distracted and was perhaps saving himself for the much-touted Jarrett show the following night.

Percussionist Adam Rudolph’s Moving Pictures band played a late night set at the Gesù, and after all the high-flying improvisation and exhibitionistic playing, it was a pleasure to just sit back and let Rudolph’s gentle tribal-world sounds wash over me. Buy keflex c.o.d., It was funny to notice that the band included bassist Jerome Harris, who must have run from playing the DeJohnette show straight over to the Gesù—just like me.

But things weren’t over yet, as I headed over to Club Soda for a late-late night gig with the Anti-Pop Consortium. The APC have been around since 1997 (off and on) and are still one of the most unique hip-hop/rap groups around. Their sound, replete with rock and punk/DIY influences, is still unorthodox for a rap group and hard to pin down. The show itself was totally off the hook, going strong until about two in the morning as the rappers flowed and the music skronked in a non-funk fashion. The young Canadian crowd grooved in a relaxed and celebratory way, and I had to admit it was the perfect way to end a long, swinging evening. Too bad Reed and Anderson couldn’t make it that far.

—photo by Michael Jackson

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July 2, 2010

JohnZorn

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Buy lunesta c.o.d., . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

OK, Massachusetts MA Mass. , it happened. Critical mass was reached and I’m maxed out after a night of watching John Zorn’s aptly titled Masada Marathon at the Théâtre Maisonneuve of Place des Arts. Two shows, Køb billige lunesta, one at 6 p.m. παραγγείλετε online lunesta, and another at 9:30, totaled almost five hours of music, showcasing a number of magnificent artists in a variety of unique settings, buy lunesta cheap, all under the direction of musical iconoclast Zorn. It was a gesture of bold programming for the Montreal Jazz Festival, Lunesta pharmacy, but one fitting in its drama and lofty ambitions. Zorn served as formal conductor for the festivities and only played alto saxophone for a portion of his time onstage, instead introducing and directing the musicians with a series of emphatic hand signals and gestures, buy lunesta c.o.d.. In a revue-styled evening, Zorn and his troops manned the stage in various combinations, comprar lunesta, showcasing the particular skills of a number of notable players, Buy lunesta from canada, most of who have been featured on CDs available on Zorn’s illustrious Tzadik label.

The core group of Masada regulars included drummer Joey Baron, bassist Greg Cohen, buy lunesta no prescription, percussionist Cyro Baptista and guitarist Mark Ribot, Kjøpe lunesta online, but also featured longtime Zorn associate Dave Douglas on trumpet, keyboardists Jamie Saft, Sylvie Courvoiser and Uri Caine, cheap lunesta no rx, cellist Eric Frielander, Billiga lunesta apotek, violinist Mark Feldman, clarinetist Ben Goldberg, drummer/vibraphonist Kenny Wolleson and bassist Trevor Dunn, cheap lunesta from canada, to name a few(!). Nebraska NE Nebr. , Zorn has been formally performing under the Masada banner since 1993, but many of these relationships go back further than that. Practically a reunion and historical overview of the New York City downtown music scene, the Marathon was chock full of highbrow musical moments, order lunesta from canada. Much of the compositions and programming in the first show contained a strong Spanish tinge, Arkansas AR Ark. , as well as some klezmer, free jazz, classical innuendoes and hardcore thrash, buy lunesta overnight delivery. Buy lunesta c.o.d., The stage band was constantly changing, with elegant solo bits, dramatic duets, trios and full-on band assaults. Friedlander did a great solo portion, Cheap lunesta overnight delivery, as did Caine, and a quartet featuring Goldberg was remarkable. Four lovely female vocalists (Basya Schechter, buy lunesta online, Ayelet Rose Gottlieb, Lunesta pedido en línea, Malika Zarra and Sofia Rei) did a segment a cappella during the first show that required some patience, but when the Electric Masada band took over and pounded things out, all was forgiven, buy lunesta pills.

One grouping of Zorn’s army culled from his Electric Masada collective is called Dreamers (check out their excellent CD), Kaufen lunesta, and their portion of the evening might have been the best of them all. The musicians in this dreamy combination were all impressive in their own right, but Ribot, Ohio OH , Cyro Baptista, Pharmacie lunesta bon marché, Jamie Saft and Joey Baron deserve special praise. Zorn’s own playing was sharp, and his presence onstage was a mix of deadly serious, loving, attentive, gracious and playful, buy lunesta c.o.d..

The Masada Marathon just went on and on and on, but nobody in the audience seemed to mind, purchase lunesta. Including me. Cheap lunesta online, The sight of all the musicians standing together at the end of both shows was endearing and inspirational, and a true testament to Zorn’s relentless artistic vision. Check them all out, individually and collectively.

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July 1, 2010

RichardBona

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Order lunesta without prescription, . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

Happy Canada Day. After my brief break in the action yesterday, Georgia GA Ga. , the jazz fest is moving forward and picking up speed. Lunesta online cheap, While I personally frequent indoor gigs and mostly smaller venues, this 12-day event is mammoth in both size and scope, and the free, Washington WA Wash. , outdoor concerts could keep most any music lover busy for days. Vermont VT Vt. , And after all my talk about venerating our jazz elders, I made a particularly foolish move and bet against 80-year-old Sonny Rollins a couple of nights ago, gambling that his performance would be only “good, North Carolina NC N.C. , not great.” I skipped the show, Cheap lunesta online, and of course, all of the reports back from my peers claim that it was one of his best concerts in ages and that his saxophone playing was totally inspired and he even sang a blues at the end of the show. Sonny, how could I have doubted you, order lunesta without prescription. Forgive this ageist fool, ordering lunesta from canada.

Sticking with the Invitation Series hosted by French über-drummer Manu Katché, Buy lunesta cheap, I caught another early evening gig at the Gesù Theater, this one featuring Katché in a trio context with French guitar star Sylvain Luc and magnificent Cameroonian bassist/singer Richard Bona. The buzz portrayed this threesome as a supergroup, lunesta ordine on-line, and I have to admit they were completely amazing. Buy cheap lunesta online, The question mark was Luc and how the guitarist was going to do alongside such a killer rhythm section. Order lunesta without prescription, A straightforward jazz player with loads of skills, Luc stepped up his game and held his own, avoiding clichés and improvising fearlessly. Switching back and forth from acoustic to electric, Luc pushed his bandmates into uncertain territory repeatedly, acheter lunesta discount. His playing was consistently inspired, Koop korting lunesta, allowing Bona and Katché plenty of opportunities to turn up the heat. No doubt, Bona was the real attraction here, and his bass served as both a lead and rhythm instrument, New York NY N.Y. , balancing the trio and providing counterpoint from several different angles. Florida FL Fla. , Bona’s touch is technically amazing and incredibly fluid, and his bass playing conveyed joy and humor as much as it did provide a funky, burbling bottom when needed, Nevada NV Nev. . Bona also sang in a beautiful falsetto, Generic lunesta, very similar in timbre to the great Milton Nacimento. Katché, of course, grooved all night long, smiling at his peers’ inventiveness and soloing with great vigor, order lunesta without prescription. From soft ballads to loud, funky jams, Missouri MO Mo. , these guys played their tails off and had a great time doing it. Lunesta online kaufen, Encore.

British pianist Neil Cowley and his band dazzled a full house at L’Astral, and I have to say I was impressed, αγοράσετε lunesta έκπτωση. Check out Displaced for a good example of his playing. Order lunesta without prescription, A solid jazzer with exhibitionistic displays, this guy really knows how to entertain. Lunesta en ligne afin, Maybe it’s from his time playing with funk/soul acts like the Brand New Heavies, but Cowley is certainly not shy behind the keyboard. When speaking to him before the show, Idaho ID , Cowley told me that he was classically trained until the age of 14, Online lunesta, when he heard a Blues Brothers album; that was it—he never turned back. With any luck, Cowley will catch on in the U.S., købe lunesta online, as his witty, Massachusetts MA Mass. , powerful piano style grabs you quick and hangs on tight.

Wrapping things up at the Gesù with Dave Douglas & Keystone was somewhat challenging but ultimately worthwhile. Douglas is a talented, versatile trumpeter/composer, and his band serves as a vehicle to perform movie music, order lunesta without prescription. In the past, cheap lunesta, Douglas has set music to the silent films of Fatty Arbuckle. More recently, Douglas created a sonic backdrop for Bill Morrison’s new film, Spark Of Being, which is apparently inspired by Frankenstein. Without the benefits of seeing the accompanying film, some of the music from Spark Of Being felt vague and directionless, but the ensemble playing of Douglas and Keystone eventually won out. Saxophonist Marcus Strickland was especially notable, as was drummer Gene Lake. Order lunesta without prescription, I couldn’t really hear keyboardist Adam Benjamin that well, bassist Brad Jones had trouble with his sound all night long, and the electronic samples created by DJ Olive and manipulated for the show offstage by Countryman did not really add that much. Ending strong with some Fatty Arbuckle music, Keystone is an exciting group that's perhaps bigger than its original mission. We’ll see where Douglas takes them next.

Coming up, it’s John Zorn’s Masada Marathon. Yikes.

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June 29, 2010

ManuKatche

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Buy antibiotics without prescription, . Alabama AL Ala. , MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

As the Montreal Festival ebbs and flows, so do I, antibiotics pedido en línea. Oklahoma OK Okla. , The early part of this jazz week radiated low energy for me, but the musicians I saw perform still did their level best to entertain and inspire, Arkansas AR Ark. . Cheap antibiotics online, Consider master drummer Manu Katché, here to host a few shows of his own as part of the vaunted Invitation Series after appearing as a guest of trumpeter Paulo Fresu, discount antibiotics. Buy antibiotics overnight delivery, Leading his modest quartet for an early show at the Gesù Theater, Katché stood out as the obvious focal point in spite of the democratic nature of his group. The French-African Katché is not an overly showy percussionist, buy antibiotics, Michigan MI Mich. , but his tasty, understated grooves have made him an in-demand player for the likes of Sting, Ohio OH , Kjøp Discount antibiotics, Jeff Beck and a long, long list of other top-line artists, cheap antibiotics tablets. Along the way, Katché has put out a few CDs as a bandleader on the ECM label, the most recent being Third Round, buy antibiotics without prescription. Price of antibiotics, While the musicians in his touring group are not the same ones that play on the new disc, his quartet sounded well-rehearsed, αγοράζουν φτηνά antibiotics. Ordering antibiotics from canada, Essentially, pianist Alfio Origlio, cheap antibiotics from canada, Texas TX Tex. , electric bassist Laurent Vernerey and saxophonist Tore Brunborg were little more than adequate, but I kept my eyes on Katché for the whole time and was not disappointed. Over the course of the show, ordering antibiotics no prescription, Pennsylvania PA Penn. , I began to understand what all of these great musicians see in Katché. He’s simply a great timekeeper and an imaginative drummer with a great amount of musicality to his playing, cheapest antibiotics in the world. California CA Calif. , I’ll be interested to see him take up with some of the other talented musicians slated to join him as the week progresses. Buy antibiotics without prescription, Odds are the opportunity for more experimental sounds will present itself, and some amazing improvisations are sure to follow.

After a killer feast in Chinatown, South Dakota SD , Osta antibiotics online, I returned to the Gesù (my second home) for a late night gig with the Wallace Roney Sextet. Roney, antibiotics over the counter, Buy antibiotics c.o.d., a trumpeter, is an interesting case. A child prodigy diagnosed with perfect pitch and taught by the likes of Clark Terry and Dizzy Gillespie before being mentored by Miles Davis, Roney has had his ups and downs. Now, at age 50, Roney is quite well established but working without much traction as younger, hipper jazz artists are attracting the attention (and gigs) he once enjoyed. The Gesù was not exactly filled to capacity for this show either, which I took as a bad sign. The band, which includes Wallace’s brother Antoine on saxophone, was workmanlike but never amazed, buy antibiotics without prescription. As far as Roney himself, it’s wild how much he tends to sound like mid-period Davis. He can’t help it, and he certainly is an inventive, talented soloist. Sadly, as a bandleader, I don’t see him as particularly challenging or all that inspiring. Still, when the rhythm section was cooking and Roney’s fiery trumpet blended in unison lines along with his two saxophonists, a few sparks did fly. It’s almost as if Roney is trapped in modern-jazz jail and doesn’t know what to do to get out. As with many noted musicians of his stature and talent, the responsibilities of keeping a band together and working can be a burden as much as it can be a joy. Like, what else is he supposed to do.

I’m not sure I know the answer to that one.

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June 28, 2010

HerbieHancock

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal Order antibiotics without prescription, . MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action.

As Italian trumpeter Paolo Fresu’s all-star segment of the festival’s Invitation Series wound to a close, Georgia GA Ga. , I had to admit that this amazing game of musical chairs had its own worldly charm. For his final night, Fresu hosted Norwegian trumpeter Nils Petter Molvaer and French mega-drummer Manu Katché for an evening of dark, New Jersey NJ N.J. , swirling improvisation. Antibiotics prices, Both Fresu and Molvaer have an affinity for electronics and often process their horns through a fund of electronic effects. The two began playing without Katché, riffing and darting around one another through an echoing cloud of sonic ambiance, farmacia antibiotics baratos. Fresu’s style was more melodic than Molvaer’s, but to a great extent, their dueling horn-play was almost indistinguishable in lieu of the heavy electronic gloss that filled the Gesù Theater. Naturally, things picked up quickly when Katché hit the stage, as his impeccable rhythmic drive forced Fresu and Molvaer back into the moment and the group improvisation truly began, order antibiotics without prescription. As trumpeters, Buy antibiotics online without prescription, both Fresu and Molvær owe an artistic debt to Miles Davis, and the processed sound of their respective horns mixed with Katché’s insistent pulse made for a Bitches Brew-type experience: a bubbling, churning cauldron of jazz fusion that pulled the Gesù crowd into rapt engagement, Texas TX Tex. . Molvaer was the most experimental, Montana MT Mont. , fiddling with a variety of sound backdrops on his laptop and singing into the bell of his horn, which was electronically processed into a ghostly, unintelligible croon, kopen goedkope antibiotics. Toward the end of the lengthy set, Acquistare a buon mercato antibiotics, a lone identifiable melody emerged. It was Molvaer leading a haunting version of “Scarborough Fair.” Katché was as much fun to watch as he was to listen to, and this gig was a harbinger of his own Invitation Series, acheter antibiotics discount, which is set to begin.

It would be ridiculous to write about jazz this week without noting the recent passing of Chicago saxophonist Fred Anderson Order antibiotics without prescription, , who died on Thursday. Hawaii HI , Anderson was supposed to play annual New York City avant-garde summit the Vision Festival that night, but was instead honored with 10 minutes of silence, which seems like more than he will get here in Montreal, cheapest antibiotics in the world. In related news, Halvalla antibiotics apteekki, trumpeter Bill Dixon also passed away recently, and the two musicians had their share of artistic similarities. Both men were born in the '20s, Iowa IA , and both played key roles in the development of free jazz in the early '60s. Acheter antibiotics, In Chicago, Anderson was one of founders of the AACM (the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians). Along with Muhal Richard Abrams and members of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Anderson helped pioneer the supportive arts community that has inspired generations of musicians since, order antibiotics without prescription. Dixon followed a similar track in New York, order antibiotics online without prescription, as he helped organize the famed 1964 “October Revolution in Jazz” and also founded the short-lived Jazz Composer’s Guild. Goedkope antibiotics apotheek, Much like Anderson, Dixon was a role model and mentor to many upcoming artists over the years. While not the highest profile, antibiotics prescription, both men were highly respected and came to reach a certain prominence in their golden years, Florida FL Fla. , and neither ever stopped playing music. And let us also remember Canadian jazz advocate Len Dobbin, who passed away one year ago during the jazz fest, generic antibiotics. Order antibiotics without prescription, He died suddenly at a local jazz club surrounded by his friends and family, which was quite shocking at the time. Looking back, Billig kaufen antibiotics, Dobbin went out doing what he loved best. Hats off.

Back to the business as hand, antibiotics discount. In commenting on the presentation of Herbie Hancock’s The Imagine Project, Cheap antibiotics, I have to say, for me, it was more disappointing than anything else, online antibiotics. Not that it was bad—with backing musicians like drummer Vinnie Colaiuta, bassist Tal Wilkenfeld and guitarist Lionel Louke, it was way too polished and professional to be bad, order antibiotics without prescription. It just felt like another mainstream move by the ever-popular Hancock. Antibiotics, Jumping from funk-filled fusion to bracing acoustic improvisation to his recent Joni Mitchell venture and then finally on to his inspiration-oriented song choices off of the newly released CD, The Imagine Project, Hancock was clearly going for the lowest common denominator, and in an effort to please everybody, he certainly let me down. I also found the maestro’s efforts and comments somewhat patronizing and egocentric, but that’s just Herbie being Herbie. Hancock's lovely and talented vocalist Kristina Train wore heels so high she could hardly move to the music onstage, and I was bored stiff during the band’s covers of tunes like John Lennon’s “Imagine,” Peter Gabriel’s “Don’t Give Up,” Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A’Changin’” (sung by Tal Wilkenfeld!) and the especially ill-chosen version of Bob Marley’s “Exodus.” Auxiliary keyboardist Greg Phillinganes saved the day with his vocals on “A Change Is Gonna Come,” and “Don’t Give Up,” but when the substitute keyboardist from Toto is the high point of a Herbie Hancock show, you know there’s really something wrong. Even the funky encore of "Chameleon” didn’t move me, and the sight (and sound) of Herbie playing the guitar-like keyboard strapped around his neck made me wince. OK, sorry for the sour grapes.

Tomorrow will be another day.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 2

June 27, 2010

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Who are these guys, indeed. On the second night of the fest, trumpeter Paolo Fresu continued his Invitation Series’ explorations in collaboration, this time with veteran guitarist/composer Ralph Towner. Towner has been performing and recording since the late '60s, most notably with the group Oregon, and has participated in classic duet albums on the ECM label with the likes of vibes player Gary Burton, guitarist John Abercrombie and, now, Fresu on the recent Chiaroscuro. Ensconced in the intimate confines of the Gesù, Fresu and Towner dazzled an enthusiastic crowd with soft, elegant playing. Eschewing the electronic accoutrement he’d embraced the night previously with Cuban pianist Omar Sosa, Fresu’s flugelhorn sounded clear, revealing a more traditional/accessible jazz tone and style. And while Fresu’s previous night showcased high improvisation, the duets with Towner were much more straightforward, drawing arrangements from their new recording with delicate precision. Towner played nylon-stringed acoustic guitar brilliantly, revealing his affinity for Brazilian music and displaying some extraordinarily complex chording. The music was actually less interactive than I’d expected, and at times it felt like Fresu and Towner were traveling on parallel lines rather than intersecting. Still, the crowd was rapturous, embracing Fresu as a favorite son and Towner as the wise elder. More to my tastes was the aforementioned Omar Sosa’s solo performance, which served as an opener for the David Sánchez Group at the Théâtre Jean-Duceppe—a night of Latin jazz, if you will. Let it be said that Sosa is a truly evolved artist bursting with creativity. A towering figure resplendent in red with a white skullcap, he cut an imposing figure. Settling down in between two keyboards (one electric, one acoustic), Sosa mixed washes of prerecorded electronic sound with acoustic improvisations of the highest order. Straddling the space between his two keyboards with a stance wider than Larry Craig’s, Sosa won over the crowd with his passionate, evocative style and winning expressiveness. Although he played Montreal as a solo act and in duet with Fresu, Sosa has his own working group that’s more central to his unique style. Check out some of Sosa’s recordings; his latest is called Ceremony, and it's on the Ota label. The way I see it, every time this guy sits down in front of a keyboard, it’s a ceremony, and I’m sold. Although I stayed to check out some of the David Sánchez Group’s performance, the music was a little too stiff for this old head, so I hightailed it back to the Gesù for a horse of a different color. Once again, the Fourth World rule was in effect, this time with Nils Petter Molvaer and his powerful young band. Molvaer is a Norwegian trumpeter/composer who willfully embraces technology and all it has to offer, both sonically and visually. Much like Fresu on the opening night, Molvaer played his trumpet through a variety of electronic effects. More than that, he stood center stage, trumpet in hand, with his laptop at his side, manipulating the sonic backdrop. Basically, this show was a multimedia event, with a large visual screen providing digitized-impressionist images and a dedicated sound engineer who managed the extra-dimensionality of the band’s sound. It was psychedelic at times, with Molvaer riffing electronically off of his own trumpet sounds and leaving plenty of space for his drummer and guitarist to fill. There were plenty of soft/loud dynamics, and the sound was powerful, progressive and occasionally overwhelming. I personally was hypnotized by the shifting colors and shapes on the video screen and at one point awoke to the crashing din of the band playing full force. This show was pure 21st century, whether improvised or orchestrated, and must be deemed a success. Obviously not for jazz purists, Molvaer is a player playing a different game. Can you dig? More to come, including a remembrance of Fred Anderson, Bill Dixon and Canadian jazz devotee, Len Dobbin.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 1

June 26, 2010

It’s the 31st annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. As I found myself in Montreal, once again attending the city’s annual jazz festival, I had just one question, “Who in the hell are these guys?” Sitting in a wonderfully intimate venue, the Gesù—Center Of Créativité, I embraced the opening night’s festivities with an early-evening show featuring Italian trumpeter Paolo Fresu and Cuban pianist Omar Sosa. This unique pairing is only the beginning for Fresu, who’ll be hosting other collaborations as part of the festival’s Invitation Series, where the artist embraces a number of musical partners of his choosing. In Sosa, Fresu selected a kindred spirit of equal talent and temperament. Stirring and evocative, their duets showcased an intuitive, empathic dialogue that was organic and spontaneous. Fresu sat perched on his stool, one leg locked behind the other as he faced Sosa, who was somewhat restrained (for him) but still quite expressive in both his body language and musical improvisations. Fresu and Sosa both used electronics to enhance their collective sound, and at times the music reminded me of trumpeter Jon Hassell’s 1980 collaboration with Brian Eno, Fourth World Vol. 1: Possible Musics. Hassell has described his Fourth World motif as “a style of music employing modern technological treatments and influenced by various cultures and eras,” which certainly applies to the sounds Fresu and Sosa were putting down. The nuanced playing reflected both of the artists’ backgrounds, with Fresu and Sosa tossing ideas back and forth with gentle intensity. Fresu occasionally used phasing or electronic doubling of his trumpet sound, and Sosa added strange samples and worldly rhythm tracks, which only contributed to their strange magic. Some folks might have thought the evening was rehearsed, but these guys were improvising from start to finish, and the emphatic audience seemed to love every minute of it. I know I did. Sadly, I can’t say the same for the performance of Bitches Brew Revisited, which borrowed the concept and music of Miles Davis’ electric jazz/rock fusion phase but didn’t go the extra mile(s). With an all-star band of Black-Rock Coalition veterans like guitarist Vernon Reid and bassist Melvin Gibbs as well as DJ Logic and trumpeter Graham Haynes, the Bitches Brew Collective vamped on classic Davis riffs without much excitement. Soloing at Haynes' direction, the band played dutifully for about an hour without an encore, leaving the audience a little short-changed. Admittedly, the amazing Gibbs was at the center here, but the center just could not hold. The other musicians did not step up when they were really needed. It was a great idea on paper, but the funk and rock jazz-fusion trail-blazed by Davis was sadly in short supply. Good thing I was able to head back to the sweet Gesù, and catch the late night set by the Vijay Iyer Trio. Iyer is certainly one of the most talented pianists on the scene today, and his 2009 CD, Historicity, was acknowledged as one of the year’s best jazz releases. Supported by the amazing rhythm section of bassist Stephan Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore, Iyer took some time to heat up but eventually everything fell together as the band played originals in between interpretations of Michael Jackson’s “Human Nature,” songs by jazz legends Julius Hemphill and Andrew Hill, and even a selection from West Side Story. Once the band was in sync, it had a hard time stopping, and the show continued on well after midnight. Iyer, who’s no stranger to critical acclaim, seemed genuinely moved by the audience’s loving enthusiasm. Thanking everyone toward the end of the show, he stated, “We’ve got to come back here soon—that’s all I’ve got to say.” That goes for me, too. Stay tuned.

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SXSW Report: Star Time

March 21, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his seventh and final round of notes from the SXSW Festival. As the music fest peaked out on Saturday night, a number of musicians gathered at Antone's to pay tribute to the late Alex Chilton and his band, Big Star. The sad and ironic fact is that a Big Star concert was scheduled at SXSW before the passing of Chilton, as was the Big Star panel at the Convention Center earlier that day. The band's original and current drummer, Jody Stephens, was there at the panel, as well as original bassist Andy Hummel and current band members Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow. Even old friend/engineer/studio owner John Fry got on Skype to join in the discussion. As interesting as the panel was, the scheduled concert turning into an impromptu tribute event was even more compelling to witness. Don’t forget that the Big Star band with Chilton, Stephens, Auer and Stringfellow had been playing off and on for the last 17 years, far longer than the original band (with the late Chris Bell) had been together. So, it seemed like everybody who ever cared about Chilton turned up at the gig and helped the surviving members of Big Star pay proper tribute to their friend. Chilton’s widow sent a heartfelt message to the crowd that was read by publicist Heather West. The cavalcade of stars began with Meat Puppets guitarist Curt Kirkwood, who played “Back Of A Car” and “In The Street.” Naturally, Auer, Stringfellow and Stephens all took their turns singing some of the material, and old Chilton friend Chris Stamey performed Chris Bell’s classic “I Am The Cosmos” and rocked out on “When My Baby’s Beside Me.” Even Hummel, who flew in from the Netherlands, came out onstage to play. Other musicians who performed included M. Ward, R.E.M.’s Mike Mills, John Doe, Sondre Lerche, Chuck Prophet and Evan Dando. The big (star) finale showcased the band with Susan Cowsill, the Watson Twins and Mills for a rousing version of “September Gurls.” Plenty of tears were shed and the closure that this concert provided was much appreciated: big-time closure for people who loved Alex Chilton, closure for people who still love Big Star and closure for those who attended SXSW.

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SXSW Report: When The Music’s Over

March 20, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his sixth round of notes from the SXSW Festival. The new documentary about Jim Morrison and the Doors comes a little bit late in the game. Since the flawed biopic by Oliver Stone, there’s been a solid series of unreleased live recordings, completely remastered CDs and bulked-up boxed sets of the original material. So, what can we expect to learn about the Lizard King and his buddies four decades after the fact? Not much really, except that they were an incredibly popular band thrust into the national spotlight just as rock music was becoming big business. What makes When You’re Strange: A Film About The Doors interesting is that director Tom DiCillo chose to only use cinematic material drawn between 1965 and Morrison’s death in 1971. That means there are no grey-haired talking heads discussing the old days—just vintage films of the Doors performing or recording or hanging out or being interviewed back in the day. Interestingly, there was a dearth of unreleased footage to consider, including a strange underground movie Jim Morrison made starring ... Jim Morrison. As a result, there are some amazing interludes featuring Morrison in a classic dream-state, making it abundantly clear that he really was charismatic, mischievous and good-looking. Naturally, the film illustrates his steady decline as everyone else connected to the band tries to keep him on track. With Johnny Depp narrating this classic tale of success and excess in the music business, we’re able to see Morrison as he really was: a natural-born showman unable to resist the temptations of popularity and increasingly burdened by his own fame. It also appears that he was an alcoholic. It’s an overly familiar story—including Morrison’s arrests, artistic accomplishments and boneheaded overindulgences—but the music still sounds great, and the insights are somewhat compelling if you’re a fan. Nothing left to do but turn out the lights.

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SXSW Report: Walk Don’t Run (Away)

March 19, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his fifth round of notes from the SXSW Festival. I have to say that the sad news of Alex Chilton’s death affected some folks down here at SXSW, and I was definitely one of them. Let me go on the record to say that when I was a kid, the very first 45 single I ever bought with my own money was “The Letter” by the Box Tops. I don’t need to explain the rest of the tale; Chilton’s career history is all over the web, and he left behind a number of important sonic documents for us all to examine. So, don’t forget cool discs like Bach’s Bottom, Like Flies On Sherbert, Feudalist Tarts, No Sex, High Priest and Black List, just to name a few of the forgotten gems. Although I didn’t turn in an Austin report yesterday, I still immersed myself in music the night before. Most notably I attended a killing DJ set by Madlib, who concluded his mix with a tour-de-force old-soul-and-funk montage using only original vinyl 45s. (But not “The Letter.”) I also got my head blown off by Japanese psychedelic space rockers Acid Mothers Temple, which helped wash away my depressive midnight mourning. Last night, I got depressed again, but not about Chilton. Actually, I was bummed out after seeing The Runaways, the new movie about the infamous '70s girl-rock band. Starring Dakota Fanning as singer Cherie Currie and Kristen Stewart as guitarist Joan Jett, this movie is more convincing visually than it is in terms of acting, directing or script. I will say that I saw a female rock critic after the showing, and she thought it was all right and perhaps I couldn’t identify with the characters. But I’m telling you, it just sucked. Yes, there is plenty of mildly accurate history here, and the recreation of the nascent glam era in Southern California was serviceable, but this movie is so lame and superficial that it just felt sad to me. The bright spots were a few of the music numbers, which had more drama than the rest of the flick. The only actor who really rose to the occasion in my humble opinion was Michael Shannon as jaded, wicked and manipulative semi-impresario Kim Fowley. Still, Shannon wasn’t nearly as jaded, wicked or manipulative as the real Fowley, but we take what we can get from these situations. So, once again I had to forge out into the night to escape my troubles, and I found sweet relief at La Zona Rosa, where the king of the Kinks, Ray Davies, put on a fine concert performance, playing an impressive number of truly wonderful songs. The set list included a few songs from his last CD, Working Man’s Café, but focused primarily on Kinks material including “20th Century Man,” “Sunny Afternoon,” “Apeman,” “Dedicated Follower Of Fashion,” “Two Sisters,” “I Need You” and “Tired Of Waiting.” Davies even called out opening band the 88 to help him rock out for the end of his show, which, of course, included “Lola” and “You Really Got Me.” After that, dazed in confused in Austin, I stuck around for Roky Erickson with Overkill River and danced to songs like “Starry Eyes,” “Two Headed Dog” and the obligatory encore, ”You're Gonna Miss Me.” I stumbled home at three this morning but awoke spiritually cleansed and ready to begin again. Apparently this festival stuff is hard work, but somebody had to do it.

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SXSW Report: Han Shot First!

March 17, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his fifth round of notes from the SXSW Film Conference And Festival. The film fest may be running out of steam as the music conference begins, but here’s one fact from the documentary The People Vs. George Lucas: For every fan-movie adaptation of Dr. Who out there in the world, there are about 100 fan movies made about Star Wars. Being a fanboy in the 21st century is hard work, and this film examines the worldwide obsession with George Lucas and all things related to his amazingly popular film series. This doesn’t just include collecting action figures and writing angry blogs about the difference the original Star Wars film and the Blu-ray edition; it’s a life choice with serious implications. Yes, Lucas basically inhabits our collective unconscious, and an incredible amount of people have remade/remodeled the Star Wars story with 3-D animations, stop-action puppets, real-life reenactments and the like. What is equally amazing is the proprietary nature of Star Wars fans and how the story (and Lucas’ über-marketing for the past 30-odd years) has burrowed its way into people’s hearts and minds. From the infamous episode of South Park to the catchy sing-a-long “George Lucas Raped Our Childhood,” it’s clear that a lot of people are actually mad at Lucas. This film has loads of talking heads defending and debating the cultural ownership of Luke Skywalker and his buddies, but the point made here is that if you hate Star Wars, you still actually love it! My favorite bit of fan-debated trivia centers around Episode IV: A New Hope and how Han Solo actually shot Greedo at the Mos Eisley Cantina before Greedo drew his space gun. Thoughtful Lucas changed this in the 1997 special edition (and made the original version unavailable) so that children wouldn’t get the wrong idea about blasting someone away unprovoked. Little did he know how much that would piss off an entire generation of fans. The result: T-shirts that testify “Han Shot First!” This movie features an incredible amount of Star Wars derivations, and by the end you’ll probably want to make you own version as well. And don’t forget the two-hour Star Wars Holiday Special from 1978 with Chewbacca and his family howling at each other for much of the show, even if Lucas really wants you to forget.

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SXSW Report: Cöde Name, Lemmy

March 16, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his fourth round of notes from the SXSW Film Conference And Festival. It was just another full house at the Paramount Theater in Austin during SXSW, and the man of the hour was none other than Lemmy Kilmister. Without resorting to hyperbole, Kilmister is rock ‘n’ roll. As the leader of Motörhead for the last quarter century, the bassist/singer has been unrelenting in his life, liberty and pursuit of happiness, which apparently still has a great deal to do with sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Featured documentary Lemmy is a true and accurate testimonial that features a number of friends and fans paying tribute to the walking one and only. Dave Grohl, Metallica, Joan Jett, Slash, Ozzy, Alice Cooper, Henry Rollins and many others insist that the Motörhead brand is a definitive and overwhelmingly influential hybrid of heavy metal, punk and thrash like no other, and that Kilmister is the living embodiment of all things good and true in the world of rock. All the ecstatic testimonials sound a little contrived at the beginning of the film, but by the end there is no doubt that it’s true. Lemmy is the man. Not only that, Lemmy is a simple man; give him some booze, cigarettes and a video game and he can sit like Buddha for hours, days or weeks. He’s a British-born expatriate who’s been living in L.A. for decades and fits right in with the Hollywood rockers, actors and porn stars. According to the film, when Kilmister isn’t on tour, you can find him at the Rainbow Bar & Grill, but just don’t bother him until after he’s had a few Jack-and-Cokes. The documentary does a good job giving you his history as a roadie for Jimi Hendrix as well as his years with the Rockin’ Vickers (from the mid-'60s) and his formative time with quintessential space rock band Hawkwind before being fired for preferring speed and booze instead of acid and grass. There are plenty of live performances showcased here, and we all get to sing along with “Ace Of Spades” a few different times. The Motörhead lineup has been quite steady in recent years, and guitarist Phil Campbell and drummer Mikkey Dee were also in attendance at the Paramount. Basically, styles and fads in music evolve over time, but Kilmister’s blueprint has remained virtually unchanged. He doesn’t pander, and the rest of the world has slowly caught on to the originality and single-minded vision of Mr. Kilmister. At 63, he is a wise and uncomplicated man surrounded by friends, family, roadies and band mates who are somehow feeding off of the world that he has created for himself. And don’t let the fascination with Nazi regalia fool you—Kilmister has a heart of gold. He’s also an original rock ‘n’ roller who has outlived almost everybody he once knew. And he is still going strong.

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SXSW Report: (Luxx) Interiors And Other Stories

March 15, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his third round of notes from the SXSW Film Conference And Festival. The SXSW film festival is finally in full swing with several worthwhile premieres, countless after-parties and a whole lot of barbeque. The narrative film with the biggest buzz thus far seems to be Micmacs by Amelie director Jean-Pierre Jeunet, while the documentary of choice is the strangely titled but wholly inspirational Marwencol by first-time director Jeff Malmberg. Of course, everyone’s looking forward to the movie about Lemmy Kilmister and big biopic The Runaways starring Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning, but let’s wait and see on those two. On the independent side, Will Canon’s narrative Brotherhood is a suspenseful, tension-filled joyride in which a semi-innocent frat-boy hazing ritual builds into a series of unanticipated disasters. The big question starts out simply—if everyone else was taking turns robbing a convenience store using a handgun, would you go along with the crowd? This really grabbed the attention of the Austin audience as the hero’s moral choices become more urgent and the demand for blind solidarity more desperate. Director Steven Soderbergh volunteered a labor of love in the form of a documentary about his late friend, monologist Spalding Grey. And Everything Is Going Fine stitches together rare and revealing footage of Grey talking about himself (which is all he ever did anyhow) to create one big, tortured life story. Soderbergh first worked with Gray on Gray’s Anatomy in 1996, and he had the full cooperation of Gray’s widow and son in the development of this sad but touching homage. Gray was one of the finest storytellers of his generation, and while this doesn’t have the continuity of a feature like Swimming To Cambodia, it does illustrate the downward spiral that eventually resulted in Gray’s suicide. There are no big surprises and the ending is somewhat weak, but it’s only in retrospect that we see a tortured Gray hurtling toward his fate. No, it’s not about a vacuum cleaner. Outrageous sex comedy Elektra Luxx is a quirky sequel to outrageous sex comedy Women In Trouble, both conceived by director Sebastian Gutierrez. Starring the lovely Carla Gugino as retired porn star Elektra Luxx, this flick is filled with funny dialogue and gorgeous gals like Emmanuelle Chriquí (from Entourage) and Malin Akerman (from Watchmen). Unfortunately, there were technical difficulties with the (digital) film projector, and the screening broke down smack dab in the middle of the movie, disappointing the 1,500 fans that had come out for the premiere. Gutierrez stalled the crowd with some hyperbolic industry spiel while the SXSW staff struggled to repair the problem, but even the babealicous cast onstage teetering in their high heels could not salvage this lost evening. Still, everyone got a big standing ovation, and then we all got the hell out of there. So, on to the next episode, all hail Elektra Luxx, and stay tuned for part three, as Gutierrez has intended this underground sex farce to be a low-budget trilogy of the highest order.

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SXSW Report: Remember The Alamo

March 14, 2010

MAGNET’s Mitch Myers files his second round of notes from the SXSW Film Conference And Festival. The film fest is lumbering along at a steady pace. In many ways, it’s running smoother than ever, with plenty of cool venues and an inordinate amount of supportive services. The SXSW Interactive Conference is also in full swing, and its number of attendees has doubled since last year, reaching nearly 6,000—eclipsing the turnout of the film festival as well as the music fest that starts on Wednesday. So, it seems that technology is the new rock 'n' roll even, if the city’s overburdened bandwidth has been choking off many a smartphone and wireless connection. But as popular as it all is, some folks have forsaken the festival this year. Quentin Tarantino and Eli Roth were big no-shows for a horror-director panel, leaving the massive crowd of disappointed fans to query Robert Rodriguez and the guy who made Zombieland. Ouch. As always, the documentaries are a huge part of the film festival’s programming, but so far there hasn’t been that one standout film to galvanize the crowd and create a real buzz. Good thing for the Alamo Drafthouse venues, where you can at least eat food and drink beer while watching movies. The Alamo is probably the most progressive film venue franchise in America, and I only wish that they had one in my hometown of Chicago. Screw popcorn and candy, I want fish tacos and a San Pellegrino when I’m watching a flick. Thankfully, the bountiful Alamo hosted the premier of Ain’t In It For My Health: A Film About Levon Helm on Saturday, which helped pass the time as the documentary lagged occasionally. Not that Helm's life story is boring, far from it, but rather than delving deeply into his years as drummer, singer and driving physical force of the Band, this film focuses on his more recent rebirth as host of the midnight “Rambles” on his Woodstock farm nearly every weekend. The film shows Helm post-bankruptcy, struggling with serious health issues and the aftermath of his battle with throat cancer, which left his magnificent voice a vulnerable and sometimes unreliable commodity. The scenes of him receiving medical treatment are tough to watch, but lend great insight into his current situation. While not a biography, we are given great access to Helm’s daily life and professional pressures, but are left to make our own conclusions about his past. At age 70, Helm is finally being recognized as a respected elder of Americana, and his last two recordings have been critically acclaimed. In the film, you can see him and guitarist Larry Campbell working on song arrangements and leading their band of devoted musicians. You can even watch Helm smoking pot with Billy Bob Thorton, but too many highpoints of his illustrious career are glossed over or completely ignored. Campbell speaks to the long running feud over publishing royalties that has left Helm bitter and estranged from his former Band mate Robbie Robertson, but Helm himself is less than forthcoming on many personal issues. Ultimately, one has to read Helm biography This Wheel’s On Fire in order to appreciate the enigmatic musician depicted in this film. An unrepentant party animal with a history of drug problems, he knows the price of having a good time, struggles to keep the family business going and has yet to relent. Still, this is what happens when the subject of a documentary has a little too much influence over the final product—lots of access, but the movie presents a lot more questions than it answers.

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SXSW Report: South By Southwhat?

March 13, 2010

MAGNET’s first missive from Austin doesn’t involve any hot new bands or sold-out showcases. The film portion of the SXSW festival got underway Friday night with the screening of Kick-Ass. Mitch Myers reports. The South By Southwest Film Festival got off to a sluggish start on Friday evening, despite the massive number of conference attendees and requisite, red carpet star-power. The major premier of the evening was highly publicized, quasi-mainstream action comedy Kick-Ass, which integrated the fanboy/freak-geek/sons-of-Apatow comic aesthetic with choreographed, Tarantino-styled fight scenes and bloody grindhouse violence. Action/comedy hybrids are getting pretty popular these days, and this flick touches all the right bases fairly well. British director Matthew Vaughn has learned his lessons of contemporary and postmodern filmmaking, and his dark vision turns the standard superhero storyline on its head in a good way. Actor Aaron Johnson is believable as an unexceptional high schooler who turns himself into a super-powerless-hero, and that McLovin dude gets to wear a cape again, but the strange dynamic duo of Nicolas Cage and young Chloë Mortez steals the show as a father/daughter vigilante team with an appetite for high-tech weaponry and revenge. This is potentially big worldwide business for Lionsgate, and the sequel-ready conclusion clearly leaves the fate of Kick-Ass II in all of your hands. After getting my ass mildly kicked, I ran over to the Austin Convention Center to see American: The Bill Hicks Story, a totally cool documentary about the viciously insightful Texas-born comedian. Imaginatively assembled with iconographic imagery, animation, commentary from friends, family and industry peers as well as clips of Hicks’ comic routines at all points in his career, this is a thoughtful homage to one of the more insightful social critics of the last comedic century. If you love stand-up comedy, then you have to love Bill Hicks, and it's still not too late if you don’t. The film festival is particularly well-known for its outrageous midnight movie series, and for this year’s first midnighter, SXSW chose Tucker And Dale Vs. Evil, a low-budget satire of those kids-on-spring-break-go-out-in-the-wilderness-and-get-hacked-up-by-backwoods-slasher-psychopaths kind of films. Actors Tyler Labine and Alan Tudyk are rock solid as two misunderstood bubbas who just want to fix up their dilapidated “vacation cabin,” and Katrina Bowden is mighty hot as Labine's potential love interest, college babe Allison. The rest of this young cast runs around the woods with hysterical abandon, inadvertently offing themselves one by one until D&T’s final showdown with “evil.” If all goes well, Tucker and Dale could become the Bill and Ted of redneck comedy, but probably not. Stay tuned, and hope for more ambitious programming as the film fest continues for another nine days.

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Q&A With Susanna Hoffs And Matthew Sweet

July 20, 2009

Susanna Hoffs and Matthew Sweet lead the pack of recent beauty-and-the-beast duos. (Others include Zooey Deschanel and Matt Ward, as well as Scarlett Johansson and Pete Yorn.) Hoffs and Sweet may be the perfect assimilation of vocal chops and instrumental savvy, as shown on a pair of recent albums titled Under The Covers (Shout! Factory), with volume one re-examining big hits from the '60s and volume two tackling the '70s. The track record for Hoffs and Sweet speaks for itself. Hoffs' band, the Bangles, was the only member of the hallowed Paisley Underground scene to sell more than a handful of records, cracking the national top-30 no fewer than eight times from 1986-89, most notably with "Manic Monday" and "Walk Like An Egyptian." Sweet's breakthrough album was 1991's Girlfriend, which paved the way for later power-pop classics Altered Beast and 100% Fun. (Read MAGNET's exhaustive overview of American power pop.) The pair plans to take an acoustic version of their Under The Covers act on the road in September. MAGNET caught up with Hoffs and Sweet during coffee breaks while working on a new Bangles album. Sweet & Hoffs cover the Raspberries' "Go All The Way" (download): [audio:GoAllTheWay.mp3] MAGNET: I know you come from an artistic family, Sue. Did you start singing at an early age? Hoffs: I had grown up listening to things like the Kingston Trio, being influenced by the early folk stuff and harmony singing and acoustic guitars. The first song I wrote was called "Rock Island Line," which was pretty strange for an eight-year-old girl. Describing your back-breaking days working on the railroad, no doubt. Yeah. [Laughs] All through the '60s, growing up in L.A., I listened to the radio while being driven around from one place to another. My mom loved pop music. I had all the early Beatles records on vinyl; still have 'em. And I loved singing along to the radio, everyone from Dusty Springfield and Dionne Warwick, singing all those Burt Bacharach/Hal David songs, to Petula Clark and Linda Ronstadt. There was such a great mix of things on the radio. You could hear Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone," then you'd hear Petula Clark doing "Downtown." And then the real Rolling Stones after that. Yeah, it was a great time to grow up. That's when I fell in love with music. I've always loved to sing. I know this was a little before your time, but do you have any recollection of that great era when the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, Love, the Doors and the Seeds all played in clubs on the Sunset Strip? A little bit. I grew up further west than that in Brentwood, but I went to a Donovan concert at the Hollywood Bowl when I was very young. I don't remember it much. And one time we were eating dinner at Dan Tana's next door to the Troubadour, so we walked over and it was Judy Collins. I was the youngest person in the audience. I got to come backstage and meet her. I definitely knew what was going on east of the 405 (Freeway). My parents were cool. I'll just say it. My mom wore mini-skirts. My uncle was a really great guitar player, the one who kept bringing me guitars. I had exposure to stuff. My parents were totally obsessed with movies, so we got to see all kinds of—I guess you could say R-rated—movies like Midnight Cowboy. It was a pretty amazing era for art and culture. Your mom even directed you in a film in 1987, The Allnighter, with one of my favorite actors, Michael Ontkean from Twin Peaks. That was a lot of fun. I remember him from that movie Slap Shot. Michael was a huge music fanatic. It was a very low-budget movie, made in a few weeks. I was so excited just to do scenes with Michael, and he couldn't have been nicer. It was right in the heyday of all the Bangles stuff, and he knew I was a musician. It was an extension of growing up in a family with an exposure to the arts. My mother was a painter. My parents met at Yale when my mom was in graduate school, getting a master's in fine art. My dad was in medical school there. He's a doctor, a psychoanalyst. We were always taken to museums. So when my mom wanted to make a movie, it was like, "My god, yeah. Let's do it." How did it feel the first time you saw it on the screen? It's very hard to watch yourself. It doesn't surprise me when actors say, "I've never seen the movie." Now I can't get away from it because of freakin' YouTube! But it's OK. The scary thing about this job is you kinda put yourself on the line. It's the good news and the bad news. It's hard to write a song and then play it for somebody and be thinking to yourself, "I wonder if this is just crap." You never know, but it's the thrill of it. I don't think I had a choice in the matter. I realize at a certain point in my life that music was the ultimate medicine, the ultimate meditation, the ultimate friend. It was this powerful force in my life, and without it I just wasn't as happy. It's almost like you have a different song for every mood. I saw the Bangles in February 1983 at the Old Waldorf in San Francisco, with Rain Parade and the Three O'Clock. What was it like in those early days? Coming up here with those bands as part of what was called the Paisley Underground was really exciting. We were all obsessed with the '60s. Having lived in the Bay Area from 1976 to 1980 when I went to UC-Berkeley, it was kind of fun coming back and actually being in a band. I was definitely a Berkeley girl in the truest sense, patched jeans and into poetry. I was living with David Roback, who ended up doing the Rain Parade, Opal and Mazzy Star. We always talked about the music we did together as an imaginary band, sitting in the living room, dreaming up what we were going to do. I went to the Mabuhay Gardens. The punk movement was so avant garde at the time. I remember seeing Psycotic Pineapple from Berkeley and the Avengers. And there was that great bookstore just up the street, City Lights. And seeing Patti Smith back then, she was such an inspiration to me. That led to learning more about bands like the Velvet Underground. It was a great time to be a bohemian. You went to the last show ever by the Sex Pistols in early 1978 at Winterland. What did you think? It was mindblowing. I remember when I first heard the Sex Pistols, there was obviously something very harsh-sounding and intense, meant to get you stirred up. But to me, Never Mind The Bollocks was pretty. There was a shimmer to it that was beautiful. And the Ramones had that, too. Exactly. The Ramones always sounded like surf music to me. How did you meet the Peterson sisters and form the Bangles, or the Bangs as you were first called? I met them through an ad in the Recycler, and I also put flyers in record stores and in the women's room at the Whisky. The first person who contacted me was Maria McKee. Wow, the half-sister of Bryan McLean of Love. Exactly! We ended up not doing anything. But I answered somebody else's ad in the Recycler and Vicki (Peterson) answered the phone, but it was her roommate's ad. She had just split from a band with Vicki and Debbi (Peterson), and they were both looking for replacements. It was awkward, like you're on a blind date and the person who opens the door is not the person you're supposed to go out with. But it's, "Oh my god, that's the love of my life." I remember calling her back the night John Lennon was killed in December 1980. I just needed someone to talk to, and I knew she was a big Beatles fan. We were strangers consoling each other on the phone. It was certainly the right choice to get together with Vicki and Debbi after that. You cut some great stuff and you're still around. Yeah, and we're recording a new album we're producing with Matthew. What's amazing is we all reference the same thing, like we'll all hear this certain pattern of handclaps, or there should be a 12-string here or a string part. We all share this common love of certain music. Those influences are the glue that sticks us together. How did you meet Matthew? I was recording a song for (1992's) Buffy The Vampire Slayer and went to New York to record it because Fred Maher, who I really admired from Matthew's Girlfriend album, was going to produce the song. I met Matthew first there, and when he moved to L.A., this amazing musician Greg Leisz mentioned to me that Matthew was doing a show at McCabe's and would I hang out and maybe sing some background vocals? The night of the show—this was when [Hoffs' husband Jay Roach] was just starting to work on Austin Powers with Mike Myers—and I thought, "Mike would really love Matthew's music." So I invited Mike to the show, and I was right. He did love Matthew's music. Then the three of us became this fun band called Ming Tea. Did you and Matthew actually play any shows with Mike as Ming Tea? Yeah, we did a show at the Viper Room. Mike is such a talented guy and a fantastic musician. The interesting thing about the Ming Tea band was it was a chance for him to work out the Austin Powers character. We pretended to be a band from the '60s. I was Gillian Shagwell, and Matthew was Sid Belvedere. We all wore these really awful, cheap wigs. And the Paul Mitchell hair mogul was in the audience. For some strange reason he thought, "This band and hair products!" He wanted to have dinner with us. We never actually connected with him, but we got a giant box of Paul Mitchell hair products that lasted for about a year. In 1986, I saw the Bangles headline the Warfield Theatre in San Francisco with the Hoodoo Gurus opening, and for the encore you brought out Prince. How did that happen? That was interesting. He never would say when he would show up. The Warfield had these concrete, dungeon-like dressing rooms. I hear a knock on the door, and he was just standing there. "Oh, hi." He was definitely very nice, and it was amazing that he had discovered us just when we were discovering him. We were really like a garage band. It was a revelation standing next to him onstage and watching him play. The fact that he took an interest in us was very flattering. He ended up contacting me and wanting me to get this song from him, which was "Manic Monday." And that became our first top-40 hit. How did it feel hearing your stuff on AM radio? Well, it felt pretty weird. The first time we heard it coming out of someone's car, we were standing on a street corner in Washington, D.C., on tour when this car comes by, and we're going, "What is that song? It sounds really familiar." And then we were screaming and jumping up and down and hugging each other. We were having our That Thing You Do moment. When you hear your own stuff at places like the California Pizza Kitchen, it's really weird. My kids say, "Mom, that's your song." And I'll say, "No, no, that's not. Oh, yeah, you're right. It's 'Walk Like An Egyptian.'" How did "Walk Like An Egyptian come to be? It's so different, weird and cool. Thank you. I agree. David Kahne was our A&R guy at Columbia. I was sitting in his office one day, and he said, "I want to play you this song." It was Marti Jones, Don Dixon's wife, singing it, and it was written by this guy Liam Sternberg, who had grown up with Chrissie Hynde in Ohio. And we got Gary Weis, who had made the Rutles movie with Eric Idle, to direct the video. We knew it was cool, but we had no idea it would take off the way it did. We were really surprised. Columbia stayed with it for a very slow ride up the charts. But once it got to number one, it stayed there. MAGNET: Why did you move to L.A. from New York, Matthew? Sweet: I came out here to record Altered Beast with Richard Dashut, and Dashut severely turned me on to L.A. He was like this magic leprechaun that showed me all the groovy, classic L.A. factors. He took me to all the different areas. He showed me the old clubs on Sunset Strip and took me by where Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham and him rented a house together (when Dashut produced Fleetwood Mac's Rumours and Tusk). And Stevie would go down to Ben Franks on Sunset Boulevard and work all day, and they would sit at the house and smoke pot. He turned me on to the California dream sort of thing. If you know where to go, L.A. is a great place. If you don't, you're probably gonna get lost. You have to understand how it works. Out here, I meet more people and live a little bit more of a normal life. And there's the weather, which is super great a lot of the time. And a lot things I like are here, like movies. It's kind of a cool place. Although with the Internet, I feel that where you are matters less. For as not old as it is, it does have a cool history. Where did you first meet Sue? Sue and I first met through Fred Maher early in the '90s, but we didn't really know each other. Then, when I moved to L.A. I did a McCabe's acoustic show. I had Greg Leisz coming to play with me at this McCabe's thing, and he mentioned that he was doing something with Sue, and I said, "Bring Sue over and get her to sing with us." So, she sang some backgrounds at the show, and she got Mike Myers on the guest list, and afterward, we all went out to dinner. This is six months before Austin Powers. He's still working on the script and still working on the character. We'd go to his house and we had this Ming Tea thing we were doing, so he could perform as Austin. We wrote a bunch of songs, and that's how we got to know each other better. Sue's husband, Jay (Roach) is an unbelievably great filmmaker. Mike fought steadfastly to have him (direct Austin Powers). He's very gifted at comedy, like Meet The Parents, really a classic. How is Mike when he's out of character, or is he ever out of character? It kind of depends. When he's in serious work mode, he's like totally serious. That's the way it is with comedians, in general. They're not just walking around, doing all that stuff and not thinking about it. However, if he's out with friends, he's more likely to be goofy and all crazy. What kind of stuff did you play live as Ming Tea? Well, there was "B.B.C.," which was our song in the end of Austin Powers. Then there was one called "Salad Cream." It was sort of weird because a lot of our stuff was not '60s. I want to say it was sort of like New Order. We watched a lot of movies. I was severely into Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls. We all watched that a bunch and got a lot of stuff from that, I think. Then there was this Italian movie called The 10th Victim, a futuristic, cat-and-mouse, gun-chase movie with a crazy soundtrack that was really cool. A lot of things came from that. That's where the name Ming Tea came from. It was the corporate sponsor of this death match on TV in Italy. There would be commercials for Ming Tea while these guys were trying to kill each other. Did you ever talk about doing an album? Mike wanted to, and we were all on board to do a Ming Tea record. But at the time, no one had seen Austin Powers yet. They had no idea how it would blow up. The movie company New Line was very concerned with doing a normal soundtrack album with as many big stars as they could get to sing on it. And why would we do this other thing to water that down? But it's OK. It's sorta bitchin' that it's so semi-obscure. We still see Mike. We did a Sid & Susie show and jammed at his loft in New York. Any feedback from the original artists on your Under The Covers sets? I know Mike Nesmith liked "Different Drum" from the first one. Who else? I'm sure the Raspberries will be thrilled (with "Go All The Way"). We met them when they played out here about a year ago. It would have been great to have had Wally Bryson and Eric Carmen play on that. We did get one of the original guys to play on the Fleetwood Mac song and the Yes song, and that was really fun. We got Lindsey Buckingham to play on "Second Hand News" and Steve Howe from Yes to play on "I've Seen All Good People." He played a Portuguese 12-string and the crazy electric lead. Some of your choices really came from left field, great picks. I especially loved Sue singing "Maggie May." That was a great point-of-view shift. I know. Sometimes the lyrics were kinda opposite, but who cares. Sure, Joan Baez does that all the time. It adds a little twist to it. Yeah, and I bet both guys and girls will love hearing it. We've got three live shows scheduled so far, all of them acoustic. We're playing this thing next week at the Grammy Museum, four or five songs, but mostly question and answer. We've got 10 bonus tracks for the album version on iTunes: a Buzzcocks song, a Blondie song, the Ramones. Here's a recommendation for the punk/new-wave album: "Another Girl, Another Planet" by the Only Ones. Great song! I love that song. We really mostly just try to have fun with this. We've done three songs for a new Bangles album, too. It's so awesome. It's them being so incredibly cool. It's just like you want to hear them. Everybody who likes the Bangles will love it. It's rock and psychedelic and harmonies like the Mamas And Papas with drum sounds like the Beatles. We're doing pretty cool treatments. And I get to play bass, this wild and bizarre stuff. It's just cool.

—Jud Cost

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 11

July 12, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Pianist Bill Charlap is an archetypal traditionalist, a 40-ish balding dude who wears a suit and is most at home playing music from the middle of the previous century. In many ways, the straight-laced Charlap is an exact polar opposite of loose-goose piano all-star Brad Mehldau. Once a child prodigy who studied classical music, Charlap has been working the trad-jazz route for decades and even made an album with his mother. Charlap paid his dues backing singers like Betty Carter and Tony Bennett before forming his own remarkable trio and has been recording as a leader since the mid-'90s. He’s certainly one of the more celebrated pianists working today—the point here being that he could’ve showcased anyone that he wanted to bring to the Montreal Jazz Festival, and Charlap imported veteran tenor saxophonist Houston Person for an evening of intimate duets. Born in 1934, Person is a generation ahead of Charlap in terms of years, but he's right on the pianist’s wavelength in terms of music. A old-fashioned “boss tenor” player in the tradition of Gene Ammons or Zoot Simms, Person is remembered for his soul/jazz albums on Prestige in the 1960s and best known for his duo with late singer Etta Jones, who he worked with for 30 years until her death in 2001. Charlap has played on Person’s more recent recordings, and if you’re interested, there’s a fairly comprehensive three-CD set of that stuff called The Art & Soul Of Houston Person. Thankfully, the Charlap/Person show in Montreal was a late-night affair at the cozy Gesù theater, where the twosome showed the sensitivity, skill and nuanced playing that's a hallmark of both their careers. “We’re just going to play some good old music,” Charlap told the audience. Then he turned to Person and said, “What do you want to play?” They proceeded to stroll through a number of lovely old standards including “I’ll Remember April,” “Memories Of You,” “Once In A While,” “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” and “Now And Then." Charlap took an amazing solo turn, then Person did the same, playing an old blues written by the great Percy Mayfield. Both Charlap and Person have devoted their lives to listening and resonating with other musicians in a supportive fashion. As a result, this was a sweet, rarified evening of classic jazz by two incredibly sympathetic players. I don’t have anything else to say except that the festival is winding down slowly, and so am I.

—photos by Michael Jackson

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 10

July 11, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Sobered by the bad news of Montreal jazz historian Len Dobbin’s sudden passing, I attended a press conference where the festival’s founder, Alain Simard, presented Ornette Coleman with its annual Miles Davis Award. Being the 50th anniversary of Coleman's album The Shape Of Jazz To Come as well as his group’s famous breakthrough gigs at the Five Spot in New York City, the award was certainly appropriate. At 79, Coleman still gets around pretty well, but he was quite tired from lack of sleep and almost cancelled the press conference. Still, Coleman arrived looking sharp in his tailor-made suit and graciously accepted the award with a philosophical commentary about the quality of existence, life, death and the need to improve ourselves. The Montreal press corps tried to ask him a few questions, but Coleman merely listened politely and resumed his existential discourse. He did include his familiar anecdote about wanting a saxophone when he was small and his mother encouraging him to work for it and surprising him a year later with a saxophone under his bed. He thought it was a toy, but he learned about sound, and here we are. When asked if he ever wanted to do any more work playing on movie soundtracks like he’d done for David Lynch’s Naked Lunch, Coleman said, “What I would like, is for everyone on Earth to be happy—and to never die.” Boom. Coleman's quartet concert on Thursday night was amazing. Flanked tightly by stand-up bassist Tony Falanga, electric bassist Al McDowell and son Denardo on drums, Coleman came out slamming with a discordant flurry of sound. Playing alto, trumpet and violin, he led the band through a series of dramatic passages, drawing vintage compositions and stray melodies from all points of his idiosyncratic career. Besides the man himself, Coleman’s two bassists were especially impressive, and the crazy counterpoint included Falanga bowing his upright and McDowell playing his five-string electric bass like a guitar. Coleman played with an emotional power and directness that is still unique and exceptional, and his expressiveness on ballads such as “Lonely Woman” was beyond compare. At one point, the band definitely played a segment of “Dancing In Your Head,” but beyond that I’d be guessing at song titles. Let it just be said that Coleman's concert was another classic exhibition of sonic intensity and musicianship. And of human feeling. The only other show I caught on Thursday night was Vieux Farka Touré, the Malian guitarist/singer whose late father was famous African bluesman Ali Farka Touré. All I can tell you is that Vieux is a chip off the old block, and he burned up the Club Soda stage with his red-hot rhythms and blazing guitar. Playing pentatonic blues scales with a percussive, ringing style as his band churned out its bouncing African boogie, Touré is something of a rocker, but he's tied to infectious tribal beats and deep blues roots. This was a joyous affair, and almost everyone in the club was up and dancing. Touré has simply got to break into the jam-band circuit here in the U.S. Somebody tell Derek Trucks about this guy right away.

—photo by Michael Jackson

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 9

July 10, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Bassist Charlie Haden (pictured) is known all over the world, and it was 50 years ago that he played along with Ornette Coleman’s group at the Five Spot in New York City and changed the shape of jazz to come. Since that time, Haden has led many different groups and played in an amazing variety of settings. Naturally, he is a perennial favorite in Montreal, returning to the jazz festival year after year. So, it was no surprise to see “Charlie Haden Family & Friends” up here, pushing his latest album. The thing is, Haden’s new disc is Rambling Boy, a country album exploring his earliest musical roots. Haden got his start singing at the age of two with the Haden Family, who were popular performers back in the '30s and '40s. The Hadens were contemporaries of the Carter Family, and Haden's latest disc revives the sense of familial unity once found in that music. On the record, Haden is fortunate to play with fantastic musicians and has an array of guest vocalists including Vince Gil, Rosanne Cash and Elvis Costello, as well as his daughters Petra, Rachel and Tanya (the Haden Triplets), his son Josh and his son-in-law Jack Black. For the Montreal concert, Haden imported some of Nashville’s hottest pickers, many of which also play on the album. This formidable front line included mandolinist Sam Bush, Bryan Sutton and Mark Fain on guitar, Rob Ickes on dobro, Stuart Duncan on fiddle and Dan Tyminski on banjo and vocals (he’s the guy who sang “Man Of Constant Sorrow” for the film Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?). Keeping the singing-family thing going and lacking the star power-guest singers, Haden leaned hard on the Haden Triplets, individually and collectively, to sing a variety of old country classics including “Single Girl, Married Girl,” “Wildwood Flower” and “A Voice On High.” While the musicianship was flawless and the lovely and talented Haden girls did their best, the show felt lackluster, as Haden dutifully pushed the band through the tunes without tapping into the depth of the players that he had on the stage. Josh sang two songs, and he really showed some stage presence. It was there, during a dramatic reading of his composition “Spiritual” with father Charlie playing passionately behind him, that the musicians truly responded to the emotion of the moment and the show finally approached its full potential. While the Montreal fans always love Haden, many seemed surprised that he wasn’t playing jazz, and a number of people walked out. The revue basically lacked a charismatic frontman, and the well-played country music often lacked intensity. I imagine they could put together great shows with special-guest vocalists in cities like Nashville, L.A. or New York, but trotting out Tyminski to sing “Man Of Constant Sorrow” one more time felt a little contrived. When you have great pickers like Sam Bush, you could take a risk and stretch these traditional arrangements into something new, as Haden did with Pat Metheny on Beyond The Missouri Sky in 1996. Back in 1979, fiddler Richard Greene did an amazing bluegrass version of Ornette Coleman’s “Ramblin’.” Nothing like that happened in Montreal, but Haden talked about the original recording of “Ramblin’” and how his bass solo includes a musical reference to country tune “Old Joe Clark” and how Ian Dury used Haden’s countryfied riff as the basis of his hit tune “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll.” Then, as a matter of course, the Haden band played a jumping but perfunctory version of “Old Joe Clark.” If I sound like I’m complaining, I’m sorry; I know these are Haden's roots and he deserves the chance to gather his family and friends around him and celebrate, but the show was still something of an indulgence and could have been much better than it was. (But could somebody still please tell Tanya to call me? Wow!) Guitarist Bill Frisell, on the other hand, put on a straightforward jazz concert that was filled with twists, turns, improvisation and musical surprises. Accompanied by Ron Miles on cornet, bassist Tony Sherr and drummer Rudy Royston, Frisell opened with a brooding mid-tempo number, his guitar jutting and probing as the band tried to settle in and find some common ground. Let it be said that Sherr was an absolute standout, and Frisell responded to his powerful playing more than anything else as the show progressed. The band eventually segued into a gentle, stirring version of “Moon River” before launching into a variety of melodies that sounded familiar but that I couldn’t identify. The encores were the best, with Frisell adapting a bluesy African sound highly reminiscent of Ali Farka Toure, then embracing the Burt Bacharach song first recorded by Jackie DeShannon back in 1965, “What The World Needs Now Is Love.” For his last tune of the evening, Frisell revived an old standby that he’d retired after the election of President Obama. Clearly inspired, he and the band played a highly emotive version of Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” to a rapturous audience. Now that’s jazz. And Charlie, I still love you. A sad addendum: On Wednesday night, noted Montreal radioman and one of Canada’s greatest friends to jazz, Len Dobbin, passed away. Dobbin was attending a Ray Allen show at the Upstairs jazz club (his favorite haunt) and had a stroke. There is sure to be an outpouring of emotion in lieu of this stunning news. Let it be said that Dobbin was doing exactly what he loved at the time of his death. He held music in the highest regard and made it his life’s work. He had just spent quality time with singer Shelia Jordan during her visit to the jazz fest, and nothing made him happier. He was simply a great guy with a amazing knowledge of jazz history that will never be replaced. I’m humbled by the news of his passing. I am sure that the Montreal Jazz Festival will not let his life go unacknowledged.

—photo by Michael Jackson

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 8

July 9, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. So I took a day off from all that jazz and went to see new documentary Rocksteady: The Roots Of Reggae in anticipation of the evening’s free, outdoor concert extravaganza featuring a most solid crew of rocksteady all-stars. Filmmaker Stascha Bader may not have had the same kind of resources that Wim Wenders had when he filmed The Buena Vista Social Club, but he still manages to document this blessed reunion of elder Jamaican musicians and give us a good history lesson, too. Spanning the short few glory years between ska’s reign and the advent of reggae, the rocksteady vibe was a slow and easy groove with deep soulful vocals. Much like the films Standing In The Shadows Of Motown and West Coast equivalent The Wrecking Crew, Rocksteady focuses on lesser-known backing musicians and old entertainers who still have an important story to tell. Building to a rousing reunion concert in Jamaica, we hear from veteran '60s crooners like Leroy Sibbles (of Heptones fame), Ken Boothe and Derrick Morgan as well Marcia Griffiths, Judy Mowatt and Rita Marley (once known collectively as the I-Threes). Bader mixes vintage films and old photos between candid interviews, plaintive home visits and new recording sessions as we learn about the roots of reggae from the people who were there. Of course, the music is what seals the deal, and hearing singer Dawn Penn discuss and reprise her magical soul single from 1967, “You Don’t Love Me (No, No, No)," is a highlight, as was watching Morgan rise one more time to sing “Tougher Than Tough” in rudeboy style. Accomplished and versatile musicians like the great Ernest Ranglin populate the veteran backing band, and these old-school Jamaicans can still play as sweet and soulful as the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section or as in-the-pocket lowdown as the Funk Brothers. And that’s how it was on Tuesday night in Montreal, as the skies cleared after a rainy afternoon and more than 100,000 folks gathered in front of the General Motors stage to see the show. The event was much more of a reggae revue then a strict rocksteady affair, but when you’re entertaining a crowd this size, you have to give the people what they want—that is, a fair amount of tribute being paid to Bob Marley. The stage lighting was bright and festive, and it was a long parade of stars as Hopeton Lewis, Stranger Cole (pictured), Sibbles, Boothe, Mowatt,Griffiths and the Tamlins took their turns in front of a huge grooving band of rocksteady players. The Tamlins sang “Stop That Train” and Boothe did “Shanty Town.” Griffiths and Mowatt were beautiful, and they really gave the show their all. Griffiths sang “The Tide Is High” (originally recorded by John Holt and the Paragons back in 1967) and Penn’s "You Don’t Love Me (No, No, No)," while Mowatt delivered a loving version “No Woman, No Cry.” All in all, another sweet night of good music and good times at the Montreal Jazz Festival.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 7

July 8, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Diversity is the key, and world music represents nothing if not diversity. I say this because Montreal’s International Jazz Festival features a lot of world music. For example, in the next few days the Metropolis Ballroom will have hosted King Sunny Adé & Femi Kuti, Alpha Blondy & Olmou Sangare and Burning Spear & Toots And The Maytals. And on Monday, I was lucky enough to catch a rehearsal for the festival’s big Rocksteady extravaganza, which coincides with the showing of the documentary Rocksteady: The Roots Of Reggae. The Rocksteady film, directed by Swiss filmmaker Stascha Bader, traces the post-ska roots of reggae music to the rocksteady movement of the mid-'60s and features a number of Jamaican music luminaries including Ernest Ranglin, Marcia Griffiths, Ken Boothe, Judy Mowatt and Leroy Sibbles, to name a few. The Rocksteady concert will bring a number of these reggae greats back to the stage, and it was great to see the Tamlins crooning “Stop That Train” and Boothe singing the Desmond Dekker classic “Shanty Town.” Sibbles, an original member of the mighty Heptones, was also on hand, and the singers were backed by a top-notch band of veteran Jamaican musicians. If you like reggae music, this show will be a blast, and the Canadians are hungry for reggae! While all this rocksteady business was going on, Jeff Beck (pictured) was just a couple of blocks away accepting the first annual Montreal Guitar Show Tribute Award. The Montreal Guitar Show runs simultaneously with the jazz fest, and let me just say that Canada really, really loves its guitars! Beck was patient, soft-spoken and thoughtful as he fielded questions about his amazing career, and it was nice to see the human side of this designated guitar hero. Beck has been hitting his stride the last few years and is playing better than ever, as evidenced on the recent Performing This Week: Live At Ronnie Scott’s CD and DVD. Beck’s two sold-out shows on Monday night at the gigantic Salle Wilfrid Pelletier auditorium were crowd-pleasing affairs. Beck was flawless at the early show, opening with the rousing clarion call of “Beck’s Bolero” and running through a catalog of his great instrumental repertoire. His touring band features monster drummer Vinne Colaiuta, bassist Tal Wilkenfeld and keyboardist Jason Rebello. In case you don’t know, Tal Wilkenfeld is the cutest little lady bassist you’re likely to see (this side of Esperanza Spalding) and was featured in a wild segment where she and Beck play her bass simultaneously. It was fun, and Beck obviously adores her. Concluding his three-night run as the featured artist of the festival’s Invitation Series, Joshua Redman and his Double Trio put on an ambitious, well-conceived performance at the Théâtre Maisonneuve, which is a far larger venue than the Gesù where he’d played the previous two nights. This was an event, as the band has only played together onstage a few times, and Redmond was totally in control of this all-star ensemble. Flanked on his right by bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Brian Blade, and on his left by bassist Reuben Rogers and drummer Greg Hutchinson, Redman played tenor and soprano with great intensity. He led the band through a series of breathtaking performances, shifting through different combinations of his master musicians and drawing tunes from the recent Compass. Clearly, Redman and the musicians around him are poised to remain at the top of the jazz world for years to come, and they probably will. Nuff said.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 6

July 7, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Watching saxophonist Joshua Redman on the second night of his three-gig excursion at the Montreal Jazz Festival, I was struck at how different his demeanor was from the previous evening. At the first show, Redman was quiet and guarded, barely speaking to the audience and running his band through the tunes with tough authority. On Sunday night, however, the talented Redman was upbeat and effusive, thanking the festival for the opportunity to partake in its celebrated Invitation Series, where each night the featured artist gets to play with a different dream team of his choosing. Perhaps that had something to do with Redman’s improved mood, as he’d certainly picked some great musicians to work with, particularly fellow saxophone star Joe Lovano. The two have collaborated many times over the years, and Lovano is something of a father figure to Redman. The Sunday gig was a blazing, saxophone affair with Redman and Lovano trading phrases, playing in unison and generally pushing each other to great heights. Supported by the fantastic Greg Hutchinson on drums, pianist Sam Yahel and bassist Rueben Rogers, Redman and Lovano gave the sold-out crowd some truly exciting jazz. For the encore, they played “Blues Up And Down,” a lowdown tenor battle made famous by saxophonists Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons. The Lionel Loueke Trio also performed on Sunday night, and the Benin guitarist showcased his unique style of African jazz. Loueke (pictured) is an up-and-comer who’s played with everyone from Herbie Hancock to Cassandra Wilson to Santana. He's a charismatic, distinctive young player, and he had the African fans in the Montreal audience howling in appreciation of his indigenous world/jazz fusion. Loueke’s voice compliments his muted, fleet-fingered guitar style, and although the trio format was a little skimpy for me, it certainly allowed Loueke to stretch out and entertain his fans. He has made a few records as a leader, the most recent being last year’s Karibu. At the same time as Loueke’s gig in the spanking new L’Astral club, Patrick Watson (the band) was playing just outside on the General Motors Stage to well more than 100,000 people. As predicted, the Canadian band approximated Radiohead/Coldplay proportions with this dramatic exhibition of its theatrical rock cabaret. Frontman Patrick Watson ruled the roost with huge video screens and numerous special effects, including shadow puppets and space-age lighting projected onto the buildings surrounding the site. The core band was accentuated with horns and a string section, backup singers from some Nordic country and special guest vocalists. I have to admit, it really was quite a sight, and the music wasn’t bad either.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 5

July 6, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. Once again, I’m moved to give credit to the folks behind the Montreal Jazz Festival, as it takes more than music to keep such an extensive celebration running for three decades. The synergy between private funding, municipal assistance, corporate underwriting, old-fashioned capitalism, academia, mass and multi-media, endowments, art, commerce, show-biz, technology and the earnest commitment of countless individuals can really add up to something special if you know what you are doing. That said, the jazz fest is starting to heat up, and the musicians are all taking their best shots as the artistic camaraderie (and competition) runs high in Montreal. Tenor saxophonist Joshua Redman (pictured) arrived to play the festival’s vaunted Invitation Series, where a single artist plays a number of gigs with different players of his choosing each night. Redman, who first performed in Montreal with his father Dewey Redman back in 1991, brought his young quartet to the Gesù Theater for an early-evening performance. Redman, who is 40, looked sharp, said little, played tenor and soprano, and led his band with authority. Drummer Eric Harland provided a rock-solid sound and pianist Aaron Parks was really something special, playing gorgeous melodies and supportive counterpoint to Redman’s brawny saxophone sound: a very impressive first gig of a three-night stand. Next, he’ll be with a different rhythm section and special-guest sax-buddy Joe Lovano. The amazing performance of Miles From India was unique and exciting and really had to be seen to be appreciated. What evolved from a studio project with musicians contributing their parts electronically from different points of the planet is now an immense, flesh-and-blood reality fusing Indian music and jazz, specifically the sounds of Miles Davis. Davis used tablas and sitars on some of his '70s fusion experiments, and the Miles From India band includes his old tabla player Badal Roy and several other Davis band alumni. Trumpeter Nicholas Payton and saxophonists Rurdresh Mahanthappa and Bill Evans were literally surrounded by two keyboardists, three all-star drummers, badass Daryl Jones on electric bass, an electric-sitar player, an Indian mandolinist and four Indian percussionists. Whoa! This was a big, crazy, bruising fusion band playing a wide range of tunes from the Davis songbook. Of course, I left before the end of the Miles From India show because I was once again running back to the Gesù for another late-night gig, this time featuring drummer Brian Blade & The Fellowship Band. Yes, when Blade isn’t playing all over the world with Wayne Shorter or any of his other side gigs, he leads his own band of young hotshots. Blade is an explosive, exuberant drummer who’s a joy to watch, and his band was tight, tight, tight. Having made six CDs under the Fellowship moniker, Blade has plenty of material to draw from, and the sterling support of pianist Jon Cowherd, bassist Chris Thomas and saxophonists Myron Walden and Melvin Butler would make any bandleader jealous. Blade actually got his own start with Redman many years ago and has grown into one of top drummers on the scene. Watch him go!

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 4

July 5, 2009

It’s the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET’s Mitch Myers translates the action. As Montreal’s massive jazz festival lumbered into its first weekend, I was blessed with the opportunity to see two living legends on Friday. First and foremost, the Wayne Shorter Quartet returned to Montreal, playing at the large and elegant Théâtre Maisonneuve to an appreciative audience. Indeed, Shorter (pictured) is probably one of the best-loved jazz musicians on the planet, and his legendary status as veteran of the Miles Davis Quintet, Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and fusion kingpins Weather Report only begins to explain this grand degree of affection. A true eccentric and marvelous composer as well as a remarkably imaginative saxophonist, Shorter seems to charm everyone with his playful, Zen-like attitude as well as his sterling musicianship. Shorter’s acclaimed quartet has gone through some changes of late, and this concert marked the appearance of Geoffrey Keezer substituting for pianist Danilo Pérez (who ruptured his Achilles tendon but is on the mend). Shorter has long been accepted into the jazz mainstream and his status as an elder statesman guarantees a degree of indulgence from his fans, but Shorter’s group played an unorthodox set filled with flowing, avant-garde improvisation that challenged his Montreal audience from beginning to end. Compensating for the absence of his longtime keyboard foil, Shorter took the lead on tenor saxophone and drove his group into uncharted territory, trading musical phrases with Keezer, bassist John Pattitucci and drummer Brian Blade and soloing more aggressively than I have heard him do in ages. Playing tenor and jamming nonstop for the first hour of the show, Shorter allowed plenty of space for Keezer, Pattitucci and Blade to showcase their skills. Blade was particularly explosive, dropping bombs to offset Shorter’s arcane saxophone ruminations. Things got bogged down when Shorter finally shifted over to his soprano sax, but the degree of musicianship was so high that the group adjusted to his stop-and-start soprano style. Whether they adjust to Keezer or welcome back Pérez, the Wayne Shorter Quartet will surely be one of the best working groups in jazz. Shorter has had this group for almost a decade and is 75 years old, so catch him now if you can. I couldn’t stay for the end of Shorter’s concert, because I was once again running back to the Gesù for the theater’s late-night gig, this time showcasing alto saxophonist Lee Konitz. Konitz is even older than Shorter and arguably just as accomplished, but his Montreal appearance didn’t receive a fraction of the attention that Shorter's show did. Perhaps it’s just as well, as Konitz does not have the resources to keep his own band on the road and played here with international jazz trio Minsarah. While these young players supported Konitz on 2008's Deep Lee, the band seemed under-rehearsed and was not in the same league as its fearless leader. While there were plenty of solid musical moments, Konitz could not save this gig from drifting into the realm of merely average. This is unfortunate, as he is still one of the best alto players of his generation, a pioneer of cool jazz and an inventive soloist with an amazing amount of creativity. Seriously, the guy played on Birth Of The Cool with Miles Davis in 1949. Maybe next time the Montreal folks can find a better showcase for the many talents of Konitz.

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 3

July 4, 2009

It's the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET's Mitch Myers translates the action. As I mentioned, the 30th Montreal International Jazz Festival is a sprawling operation of immense scope and volume. It’s not just jazz and it’s not just music, and the entire city gears up for the two-week celebration. The festival organizers have created their own jazz universe, including an art gallery, which is now showcasing the photographs of Herman Leonard—and the esteemed photographer was on hand for the opening. Born in 1923, Leonard is responsible for some of the most memorable, iconic photographs of famous artists like Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington and countless others from the golden age of jazz (1940 through 1960). Leonard’s black-and-white shots have been reproduced all over the world, and his unique use of backlighting inspired numerous photographers. Herman has wonderful anecdotes about his encounters with these artists and is a model of discipline, integrity and joyous enthusiasm. If you aren’t familiar with his shot of saxophonist Dexter Gordon with cigarette smoke pluming around him, you don’t know jazz. Hats off to Herman! I caught a rehearsal by Quebec-based recording artist Patrick Watson. Patrick Watson is the name of the band, but the band is led by singer/musician Patrick Watson. They are popular up here, and I think they are supposed to be like a Canadian version of Radiohead. The band will be playing a big free outdoor concert here on Sunday and will be accompanied by a string section, horns, special guests and special effects. This is going be a mammoth spectacle, and the locals are going to be out in full force. Still, I wonder if these guys can break in America. Check out their new album, Wooden Arms, and see what you think. Just to keep things down to earth, I walked over to the Metropolis Ballroom to hear Susan Tedeschi and her band open for Chicago bluesman Buddy Guy. Tedeschi was in total command, singing in a strong, urgent voice and playing the heck out of her guitar. This is roots music, pure and simple, and her mix of blues, soul and gospel continues to evolve. Tedeschi's band plays a solid version of Southern rock, but they all could loosen up a little bit more and have some fun with these great tunes. And Tedeschi should engage them even more. I only saw a half-hour of Guy, but I can pretty much tell you that there’s no other 73-year-old on the planet that can play blues like Buddy. He was wailing—I mean wailing—on the guitar and really knows how to please crowd: singing, screaming and picking the blues, doing shtick with the audience and letting his band strut their stuff. Tedeschi has been opening for Guy for years, and she should take a few more lessons from the master! I left the Guy show to run back to the Gesù for a late-night gig by Esperanza Spalding (pictured). Spalding has a buzz going, as the singer/bassist has played with Prince and performed for President Obama. It’s not hard to see why. Spalding is a lovely, petite young woman with a huge afro-styled hairdo and a most charming demeanor. The Gesù gig was totally sold out, and Spalding had the crowd eating out of her hand. Literally dwarfed by her massive double-bass, Spalding scatted, crooned, jammed, joked and jived jazz in a soulful, modern style. While she treats her band with loving camaraderie, she’s clearly the star of the show. I can’t say that I loved the music, but Spalding’s winning enthusiasm is hard to resist and I understand the interest. Verdict: She's a very promising young artist on her way to much wider appeal, and when her chops (both bass and voice) catch up with the rest of her act, look out!

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Montreal International Jazz Festival, Day 2

July 3, 2009

It's the 30th annual Festival International de Jazz de Montréal. MAGNET's Mitch Myers translates the action. The Montreal International Jazz Festival is a large, amazing beast spanning 13 nights and showcasing talented artists from all parts of the globe. With loads of world music, soul, funk and rock 'n' roll as well as top-notch jazz, the festival is impressive for the huge number of free outdoor events that are geared to satisfy the Canadian public while hardcore jazzbos scurry from one indoor gig to another. I missed the opening night’s concert with Stevie Wonder, but well more than 200,000 people braved the rain to see Wonder’s show, which was chock full of jazz charts, old Motown favorites, a Beatles tune and a loving tribute to Michael Jackson. Rumor has it that Wonder got paid a half-million dollars for the gig—not bad for a night’s work. Easing into the cosmopolitan scene, I went to Club Soda and caught a set of duets by Brazilian vocalist Luciana Souza (pictured) and acoustic guitarist Romero Lubambo. The intimacy between Souza and Lubambo was impressive and should lead many to Souza’s wonderful duet CDs. Singing in Portuguese and English, Souza embraced the songbook of Antonio Carlos Jobim, Pablo Neruda’s poetry and a couple of jazz standards. Lubambo, who lives in the United States, is probably the most in-demand Brazilian guitarist working today—his jazzy arpeggios were delicate and sometimes reminiscent of guitarist Joe Pass, but his sound is still distinctly Brazilian and uniformly excellent. Souza and Lubambo played in perfect tandem, mirroring each other with romantic grace. I also enjoyed a late-night set at the wonderful Gesù Theatre, featuring French pianist Baptiste Trotignon with an American band that included sensational saxophonist Mark Turner, trumpeter Jeremy Pelt, bassist Matt Penman and drummer Greg Hutchinson. While Trotignon’s style is a little too passive for my tastes, the improvisational strength of his group elevated the ensemble performance to a serious art form. Turner, who’s still recovering from a very serious injury to one of his hands, played remarkably, as did Pelt. This group of young all-stars is going to be around, individually if not collectively, so keep your eyes on them and watch the future of jazz unfold. Much more from Montreal in the days to come—au revoir!

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Live Review: The Feelies, Chicago, IL, June 29, 2009

July 1, 2009

The Feelies took the stage at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park on Monday night, playing their first Chicago gig in 18 years. While even more time has passed since the group's post-punk guitar shtick first reigned in 1977, the little old band from Haledon, N.J., started out rocking hard and only picked up speed as the night progressed, strumming away the years and playing many old favorites in front of thousands. The weather cooperated nicely for the outdoor show, making it the perfect summer evening for Millennium Park’s free concert series. Bill Million was the penultimate rhythm guitar hero while Glenn Mercer blazed on leads—and the double drumming of Stanley Demeski and Dave Weckerman pushed the beat (and bassist Brenda Sauter) into bouncing, droning overdrive. “Punk never sounded so innocent,” said one observer. After a blistering 70-minute set that included familiar tunes such as “Deep Fascination” and “Too Far Gone,” the band encored with a cover of R.E.M.’s “Carnival Of Sorts (Box Cars),” its own rave-out “Fa Cé-La” and the Velvet Underground’s “What Goes On.” Then, with the overtime clock ticking loudly and a huge throng of dancing fans crushing in the front of the Pritzker stage, the band returned for an accelerated version of the Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black.” Word to the wise: Catch the Feelies' upcoming shows in Hoboken, just so you can say you were there.

—Mitch Myers; photo by Jerry Goldner

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Jazz Notes: Vision Festival, Day 6

June 16, 2009

This week, MAGNET’s Mitch Myers reports from the Vision Festival, the avant-garde jazz event in New York City. As the 14th Vision Festival winds down, I’m struck by the array of artists whose creative work is considered avant-garde. A number of great musicians were hanging around this week, and the programming for Sunday night’s show was full of amazing talent. Trombonist/composer Steve Swell presented his trio Planet Dream for a matinee performance of utopian chamber jazz, showcasing an intimate collaboration between himself, saxophonist Rob Brown and Daniel Levin on cello. Swell’s compositions were smart and imaginative, but it was the gentle improvisatory aspects of this group that really came across. Chicago free-jazz patriarch Fred Anderson (pictured) made a memorable, early-evening appearance, supported by his longtime associates and Vision Fest mainstays Hamid Drake and William Parker. Anderson is 80 years old, and his history with Chicago’s avant-garde community goes all the way back to the very first concert given by the AACM in the mid-'60s. On Sunday, Anderson found his way onto the stage, put his tenor saxophone to his lips and didn’t move again for the length of his segment. Behind Anderson, Drake shifted from hand drum to full kit while Parker dabbled with Eastern instruments before settling on his upright bass. This was highly emotive free jazz, echoing the spiritual works of John Coltrane and Pharoah Sanders, and the amazing set ended far too quickly. I guess that’s how you cater to geriatric jazzmen—keep their sets short and the audience wanting more. Michele Rosewoman has kept Quintessence—an ever-shifting performance collective—together for more than 20 years, and she presented two new compositions. Straddling the line between modern classical and jazz, Rosewoman is a talented pianist/composer, and she surrounded herself with a band of ace musicians including bassist Brad Jones, trombonist Vincent Gardner and alto saxophonist Loren Stillman. Toward the end of their highly arranged set, Quintessence broke into a funky groove with Rosewoman playing an electric keyboard in the style of Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters. The wholly improvisational trio of Whit Dickey (drums), Eri Yamomoto (piano) and multi-instrumentalist Daniel Carter started out slowly but gained momentum, especially as Carter switched from flute to trumpet to clarinet to saxophone. Dickey’s drumming was flowing and Yamomoto’s piano work cerebral, but Carter demanded the audience’s full attention as he put on a bold display of spontaneous improvisation. Carter deserves more of a spotlight, and Vision Fest programmers would be wise to bring him back next year in a greater capacity. Finally, much to the chagrin of the weak-hearted jazz fans, German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann closed the evening with his group, Full Blast. A virtual power trio with Brötzmann, electric bassist Mariano Pliakas and drummer Michael Wertmüller, Full Blast lived up to its loud/fast moniker with a thundering racket that sent some of the Vision Fest faithful scurrying for the exits. Brötzmann’s brain-frying tenor screeds were imposing, the rhythm section pounding, and despite an occasional melodic interlude, his set was one full force gale and louder than love—the perfect way to finish up an evening of wild, diverse jazz performances. With just one more night to go, I’m putting my dashiki and skullcap back in the closet and mourning the end of the 14th Vision Festival.

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Jazz Notes: Vision Festival, Day 4

June 13, 2009

This week, MAGNET’s Mitch Myers reports from the Vision Festival, the avant-garde jazz event in New York City. As the week wears on, I’ve noticed one thing about the (14th) Vision Festival—that is, it’s a lot of the same people. Every night, it’s the same staff, the same vendors, as well as much the same audience and, often, the same musicians. Not that there is anything wrong with that—a number of music fans came from points abroad (Germany, Japan, etc.) just to see William Parker and company stroll out the representative best of their free-jazz subculture. Things seemed a little off-kilter on Friday, and although the music started late and was subsequently rushed throughout the evening, there were still plenty of fascinating musical moments. Miriam Parker’s Corridor combined her interpretative dance routine with the atmospheric sounds of Jason Kao Hwang’s violin and Joseph Daley’s tuba. Parker was elegant, agile and lovely, while Hwang and Daley provided the perfect avant-garde ambience to compliment her performance. The Charles Gayle Trio was an appropriate choice for the Vision Festival, and Gayle (pictured) was absolutely commanding on alto and tenor saxophone. He is a humble, expressive musician who has overcome some imposing obstacles in his life (including homelessness), and although his noted saxophone style is still intense, his overall sound is kinder and gentler these days. With bassist Lisle Ellis and drummer Michael Wimberly, Gayle gave an amazing performance and finished up the set on piano. Let’s all pay more attention to Charles Gayle! The Ayler Project is a quartet devoted to the music and memory of late saxophonist Albert Ayler, who provided a guiding light to many during the free-jazz explosion of the 1960s. Trumpeter Roy Campbell is the leader here, but saxophonist Joe McPhee, drummer Warren Smith and bassist William Parker all contribute equally. The band’s first performance in America was all it could be with a spoken invocation from “Music Is The Healing Force Of The Universe” followed by hymns, marches, meditative chants and expressive blaring. Those familiar with the Ayler songbook were thrilled, except for certain nitpickers (i.e., me) who wanted to hear the composition “Ghosts.” Maybe next time. The evening concluded with a segment featuring critically acclaimed saxophonist Zim Ngqawana, who hails from South Africa, supported by Vision Fest all-stars such as pianist Matthew Shipp, drummer Nasheet Waits and bassist Parker. I missed the show, but it was supposed to be a big deal and the place was packed when I left. Maybe I can ask some of those same people about it when I return to the Vision Festival tomorrow.

—Mitch Myers

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Jazz Notes: Vision Festival, Day 2

June 11, 2009

This week, MAGNET's Mitch Myers reports from the Vision Festival, the avant-garde jazz event in New York City. Things are starting to heat up at the Vision Festival, with Wednesday night being dedicated to the lifetime achievement of 85-year-old Marshall Allen (pictured), multi-instrumentalist and current bandleader of the Sun Ra Arkestra. One of the more distinctive alto saxophone players for the last 50 years (he began playing with Ra in 1958), Allen has kept the fabled Arkestra going since Sun Ra left this planet for the cosmos in 1993. The evening began with Allen and aggregate Vision Fest all-stars—tenor player Kidd Jordan, drummer Hamid Drake and two powerful bassists, William Parker and Henry Grimes. Allen immediately set the controls for outer space, playing an electronic valve gizmo that echoed and manipulated synth-like phrases. The band was a killing machine with Drake at the center—flanked by Parker and Grimes, who plucked and bowed at will. Kidd Jordan, no spring chicken at 74, blew long, hard lines of tenor madness, echoing the spirit of Allen’s old Arkestra partner, John Gilmore. Allen duly summoned his ferocious alto to match the intensity of his amazing bandmates. Bill Cole’s Untempered Ensemble was something of a letdown after the Allen band’s set, but the group persevered and converted some new fans with its indigenous world jazz. Cole plays Eastern-sounding double reeds as well as the didgeridoo. His daughter Althea’s singing voice wasn’t as strong as the musicianship on the stage, especially with Warren Smith on drums, but Cole’s insistent melodies interlaced with Joe Daley’s tuba and Smith’s drumming blended nicely with Atticus Cole’s percussion. All of this led up to a rousing performance by the Sun Ra Arkestra under Allen's direction. There were at least 20 people onstage, all wearing some small amount of glittering apparel. While not exactly resplendent in his sparkling red poncho and matching hat, Allen led the band with humble authority. Part of the Arkestra’s appeal has always been its organic amalgamation of spaced-out, avant-garde sounds, ancient-to-future philosophy and classic jazz traditions. Besides Allen, several other Sun Ra veterans were onstage, including saxophonists Charles Davis and Danny Thompson and bassists John Ore and Juini Booth. The Ra set consisted of wild instrumental interludes, raucous big-band arrangements, ragtag singing and dancing and reconstructed jazz standards. Of course, one had to miss Sun Ra’s physical presence at a gig like this but his spirit was certainly everywhere. Personally, I was dismayed to note the absence of the Ancient Egyptian Infinity Drum. Still, the finale was big and nostalgia ran high, and the Vision Festival even presented Allen with an envelope containing some money. Hooray for our side! Stay tuned for more Vision Fest adventures, as free-jazz medicine men Sunny Murray, William Hooker, Charles Gayle and Fred Anderson all wait in the wings.

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Jazz Notes: Vision Festival, Day 1

June 10, 2009

This week, MAGNET's Mitch Myers reports from the Vision Festival, the avant-garde jazz event in New York City. billybang320

It has been said, as well as disputed, that Manhattan is ground zero of the jazz universe. The city has always done quite well providing the opportunity for diverse live jazz performances. With the long-running JVC Jazz Festival (formerly the Newport Jazz Fest) being cancelled this year—a grim sign of the times—the fact that a large, well-organized avant-garde jazz festival can still happen is something to be celebrated. On Tuesday night, down on the Lower East Side at the Abrons Arts Center, the 14th edition of the Vision Festival kicked off in suitably regal fashion. Percussionist Hamid Drake, singer/dancer Patricia Nicholson-Parker and the festival’s founder, bassist William Parker, provided an invocation for the event, revealing an earnest, retro-beatnik spirituality that will undoubtedly pervade the week's festivities. Parker played an unusual-looking homemade electric bass while his wife danced and recited poetry and Drake supplied intricate waves of rhythm on a large hand drum. Parker later switched to an Eastern-made reed instrument, and Drake added his own voice to the plaintive invocation. The first “band” to perform was Brass Bang, featuring veteran violinist Billy Bang (pictured) accompanied by three trumpeters, trombonist Dick Griffin and young Russell Carter on drums. Before the first number, Bang spoke to the audience, illuminating the relationship between violin and trumpet in jazz, which goes all the way back to violinist Stuff Smith imitating the trumpet lines of Louis Armstrong. Bang, who has been playing outré jazz since the 1970s, was mentored by the late Don Cherry, the elfin trumpeter best known for playing with Ornette Coleman. Bang’s compositions allowed for plenty of soloing by trumpeters Ahmed Abdullah, Ted Daniel and James Zollar, and the band finished its set with an arrangement of Duke Ellington’s “Take The ‘A’ Train.” Note: In the old days, Ray Nance played violin and trumpet for the Ellington band. Keeping the beat vibrations flowing, multi-instrumentalist Douglas R. Ewart led a wooly band of players, along with noted black poet laureate Amiri Baraka. Baraka recited prose in bohemian style, accompanied by the flutes and saxophones of Ewart, J.D. Parran and Joseph Jarman, Thurman Barker on drums and marimba, and Donald Smith on piano. Ewart, Jarman and Barker are all noted veterans of the AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians), which was formed in 1960s by free-thinking musicians from Chicago’s South Side. The Jamaican-born Ewart and his band maintained the bold musical traditions of the AACM, with Ewart, Baraka and Jarman all spouting joyous poetry in hip, irreverent style. The very long evening ended with Lawrence D. “Butch” Morris conducting A Chorus Of Poets & String Ensemble. If you’ve never seen Morris conduct, check him out—his music and methods have no boundaries, and "Conduction No. 187, Erotic Eulogy" was no exception. Moving forcefully in front of his ensemble and gesturing like a black-jazz Leonard Bernstein, Morris generated some of the most unusual and rewarding music of the night. His brave interpolation and perpetual rearrangement of voices, text and strings was artful and intelligent, and he left the audience mostly drained but also satisfied. Next up: Wednesday’s highly anticipated showcase and lifetime recognition of saxophonist Marshall Allen, who will be playing a special set before directing the Sun Ra Arkestra, a band he’s been associated with for the last half-century. For those around Manhattan who can make it sometime this week, you can meet me at the jazz corner of the world.

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SXSW Recap: Monday Coming Down

March 25, 2009

Most SXSW festivalgoers fled Austin on Sunday. MAGNET's Mitch Myers stuck around an extra day to survey the wreckage and try to remember what happened over the weekend. Well, I’ve finally wrapped up my 10 days of SXSW action, and boy, are my feet tired. Thank goodness MAGNET scribe Corey duBrowa did most of the heavy lifting over the weekend. But I must point out, to leave Austin on Sunday rather than on Monday is to overlook Alejandro Escovedo’s annual festival closeout at the Continental Club on South Congress. Not that I made it to that show either, but at least I was still in town. I’d already seen the Alejandro Escovedo Orchestra (18 musicians strong!) perform on Saturday night at an outdoor party on South Congress. In general, South Austin serves as a nice antidote to the vicious downtown overkill on Sixth Street, providing multiple parties with lots of great Americana artists all week long. One small highlight was Jason Isbell performing a letter-perfect version of the Talking Heads’ "Psycho Killer.” I like that song. And speaking of parties, the word is that the countless day parties downtown (and elsewhere) took some energy away from the conference itself, luring attendees away from industry-driven panels at the convention center. Not that the music panels were that interesting: Spiels on Woodstock’s 40th anniversary, Neil Young’s Decade project on Blu-Ray and the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue were all pretty mild. The panel on the genius of Doug Sahm’s “Mendocino” was OK, but the evening concert celebrating the release of Keep Your Soul: A Tribute To Doug Sahm at Antone’s bar was closer to the source with performances by Jimmy Vaughn, the Gourds, Sarah Borges, Dave Alvin and the surviving members of the Texas Tornados. Other noteworthy gigs include Ed Harcourt’s amazing pop-romantic performance at Elysium, PJ Harvey kicking ass at Stubbs and the same Echo & The Bunnymen show that duBrowa wrote about. I also saw the world premiere of Jonathan Demme’s Neil Young Trunk Show. This is Demme’s second Young concert film, and he’s really starting to get the hang of it, mixing the visual playlist of solo acoustic tunes and loud jams with an exceedingly deft hand. Still, no matter the quality, this flick is still for Neil freaks only. Not much else to say, except they’re made of tough stuff down there in Texas, and by Monday morning, the streets were all clean and SXSW was just a memory. See you in 2010. Jason Isbell's "Seven-Mile Island" (download): [audio:SevenMileIsland.mp3]

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SXSW Report: Heartless Bastards, Dan Auerbach, Doug Kershaw

March 19, 2009

Mitch Myers checks in from Austin: Since the MAGNET editors have wisely entrusted fellow scribe Corey duBrowa to burrow into the edgier netherregions of SXSW, the pressure is off and I can finally go back to hanging out at four-star hotels and eating three-course dinners. On my way to a dinner at the Driskill Hotel (sadly, only three stars) Wednesday night, I lost my nerve and skipped seeing Echo & The Bunnymen do an unscheduled, early evening concert. Instead, I dropped into The Parish on 6th Street and caught the 73-year-old Doug Kershaw (a.k.a. the Ragin’ Cajun) sawing away on his fiddle and singing his once-famous hits from the early '60s such as “Louisiana Man” and “Diggy Diggy Lo.” While Kershaw still has loads of talent and a playful manner, his band was lame and the crazy Cajun had to get by on a combination of charisma and indifference. The Parish isn’t such a bad place to hang out at, and a couple hours later I saw the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach blaze through an amazing set mostly drawn from his new solo album, Keep It Hid, The band was really tough, Auerbach’s guitar style was most bruising, and the intensity of his live show far exceeded the sounds of his recent recording. After Auerbach left the stage around midnight, the swamp-king himself, singer/guitarist Tony Joe White, followed to close the show. Sadly, Tony Joe had been sitting around backstage drinking all night, and his meandering set was weighed down by distorted wah-wah guitar playing and little else. The guy couldn’t even put together a complete version of “Polk Salad Annie.” I was bummed. The best thing I saw on Wednesday was a short afternoon set by Heartless Bastards (pictured). Singer/guitarist Erika Wennerstrom is obviously the real deal and has one of the best rock voices to come along in quite some time. Opening with the tough Junior Kimbrough tune “Done Got Old,” she and her band cranked out combustible punk-blues with relentless, dramatic precision. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, on to the next three-course dinner. Let duBrowa do the dirty work. Heartless Bastards' "The Mountain" (download): [audio:TheMountain.mp3]

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