North Sea Jazz Festival 2008

North Sea Jazz Festival
Ahoy, Rotterdam
July 11-13, 2008


The 33rd North Sea Jazz Festival was a showcase of epic proportions. 15 different stages in the Ahoy Centre played host to 200 artists; venues varied in size from large concert halls like the Amazon, Darling and Hudson to smaller, more intimate spaces and cavernous stadiumesque acoustic settings. With so much talent and variety on offer, it was very difficult deciding what to see: intriguing as it was to scout out obscure names on small stages, the lure of the jazz A-List often proved a little too tempting.

A festival day typically ran from between 4-5 pm until around 2 am, with an earlier start and finish on Sunday. Perhaps one improvement would be to have fewer performance spaces and always begin a little earlier, thus lessening the potential for agenda clashes and needing to leave gigs early. Nevertheless, the event was a sublime feat of organisational professionalism. Nearly everything ran on time--a trait almost unheard of in the jazz world--and, with 70,000 visitors over three days, there obviously weren't many other complaints.

The key to drawing such a large attendance was undoubtedly the choice of several blatantly non-jazz headliners for prime slots on the biggest stages: Gnarls Barkley, Paul Simon and Chaka Khan stand as cases in point. However, one can bear no grudges as this pop factor was heavily saturated in the majority of the programme's content. Also, any strategy that can entice mainstream music fans into this metaphorical dark den of underground jazz demons cannot be faulted--it was awesome to see so many people at a festival of this nature.


Day 1 - Friday, July 11

In retrospect, the festival's opening day was a relaxed prelude for things to come. First up was Charles Lloyd and his exciting quartet featuring Jason Moran (piano), Reuben Rogers (bass) and Eric Harland (drums). Now 70, the saxophonist was sporting a snappy ensemble with shaded glasses and his trademark beret. His performance, however, was unexpectedly disjointed: while Moran, Harland and Rogers were very much locked in together, Lloyd's playing was strangely disconnected, almost as if he were operating on a different level from his rhythm section. This disparity could have been due to evident teething problems for the sound crew on the Hudson stage--it all seemed much too quiet, with snatches of other gigs drifting in quite audibly.



David S. Ware's performance in the atmospheric Missouri tent was another matter. Despite the music's obviously more open nature, a band consisting of iconic improviser William Parker on bass, impressive drummer Nasheet Waits and guitarist Joe Morris conveyed a greater sense of unity and understanding--with the occasional exception of uncertain contributions (or simple lack thereof) from the slightly confused-looking Morris. Ware's penetrating style was at its most potent, switching from textured, breathy phrases to full-on squawks, screams and extended streams of notes. Casual festival-goers wandering in received a shocking blast of the contemporary avant garde; many looked rather perplexed, if not equally fascinated, by the raw, edgy tonal quality of this skull-capped elderly gentleman who sat down for the show's entirety. In spite of slightly frail appearances, Ware and Parker remain at the forefront of the free jazz movement. Collaboration with younger players like Waits has clearly given them a new lease of life and opened a fresh streak of creativity.

Next to perform on the same stage was London's Led Bib, a free improv group spearheaded by Zorn disciple Mark Holub. The dynamic quintet of two alto saxophones, organ/piano, drums and bass catalyses an infectious sense of energy which fills the room--as does the manic, twisted punk-jazz freeform fusion sound of the band. Holub's hyperactive drumming is the motor, supported by solid bass work from Liran Donin. This hard base of noise allows the keys player and the saxes to break out with wild solos, often working in twos or all at once. Most remarkable, however, is the way they can snap back together as a tight unit, in the blink of an eye, after riotous passages of collective improvisation; tunes are typically built around sax-led melodic ideas that act as reference points. Led Bib has a small cult following back in London town and it was great to see the music export so well: a full house of absorbed onlookers emitted frequent shrieks of encouragement. This loud, passionate and unpredictable band will surely turn a few heads at many more festivals in the not-so-distant future.



Unfortunately there was no time for the full Led Bib enlightenment, as people were flocking to see Herbie Hancock and his elite quintet on the Hudson stage. Dave Holland (bass), Chris Potter (sax), Lionel Loueke (guitar) and Vinnie Colaiuta (drums) joined the legendary keysman for a thorough workout of the standard funk repertoire. It was highly enjoyable to behold Potter tearing through solos on a selection of familiar tunes, with the exception of Loueke's complicated composition "17" (yes, it has 17 beats), but one couldn't help thinking Hancock might have been more ambitious in his choices. The capacity crowd went mad for the likes of "Cantaloupe Island," "Watermelon Man" and "Chameleon," which were delivered in expected fine style, but many will have been disappointed not to see something more exploratory from a man with such a rich history of innovation. The closest they got to post-bop was Wayne Shorter's "Footprints." Holland stood out with a long, lyrical introduction on his own, and Hancock's harmonically cryptic solo was somewhat spoiled by heavy-handed clumsiness from Colaiuta, who is an incredible funk drummer but seems to lack a subtler side. Hancock was also guilty of indulging in keytar duels with Loueke and Potter (the latter of which he most certainly lost) and didn't seem able to keep hands off his rather cheap-sounding synth. But it definitely wasn't a bad gig by any means and, bearing in mind Hancock's recent slant towards the mainstream market, it probably wasn't a great surprise either.

Another father figure of funk, bassist Bootsy Collins, was due to finish the night in the Nile arena--a vast standing space with tiered seating at the sides. The gig was an extremely bizarre experience for several reasons. First of all, before Collins even got on stage, the audience was treated to lengthy semantics from a series of sideshow acts which hadn't been listed on the festival itinerary. A dancing three-piece singing skewed mashups of James Brown tunes was followed by an indiscernible rapper and a relatively decent instrumental funk group. It emerged that the whole event was conceived as a tribute to the Godfather of Soul himself--a credible notion in principle. However, a woefully dire performance from a lady named Vicki Anderson (apparently a former JB backing singer), whose voice sounded like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard, pushed patience to its limit. Collins had still not materialised, and there was a feeling that only his appearance could restore a semblance of dignity to proceedings.

It didn't. Collins finally came out but, rather than stepping forward to lead a storming set of original material, stood back as an impostor James Brown took the spotlight. Indeed, someone pretending to be the deceased King of Funk. He wasn't a bad singer, but anyone trying to imitate Brown's towering talent and unique stage presence is bound to fail. And, as if it couldn't have got any weirder, Brown's controversial widow, Tomi Rae Hynie, was next on stage to deliver a couple more horribly out-of-tune covers. It was time to leave.

Admirable as it is to honour James Brown the musical legend, questions must be raised about the way it was attempted. The whole spectacle was, quite frankly, a crass parody. It seemed like a bad dream. As a man who was famed for high standards and relentless pursuit of musical perfection, Brown must be turning in his grave. It looked like a cheap shot on the part of former colleagues to make as much money as possible from his legacy. But, even so, why did it have to be done in such a tactless, unethical manner? Perhaps the most disturbing, lamentable fact is that Collins and trombonist Fred Wesley, who also performed, have compromised their own values and integrity in associating with such a terrible production. It really was an insult to the memory of the great JB: he deserves better.


Day 2 - Saturday, July 12



After the extraordinary anti-climax of Friday night, something to heal the faith was certainly needed. It came in the form of Pat Metheny and his superb trio with drummer Antonio Sanchez and Christian McBride on bass. Playing to a sell-out crowd in the Amazon hall (tickets for concerts there had been sold separately to festival day passes), he emerged on his own for a couple of solo numbers to start the show. The first was largely chordal and had a little country twang, played with a powerful empathy that disguised its relative simplicity. Relative, that is, to what Metheny was about to play on his custom-made 42-string guitar. Somehow managing to hold a bassline with his left hand and a varying series of chords and motifs on the other three sections of the instrument, it was a mesmerising display. It set the scene for what was to follow; Sanchez and McBride came out to join and were perfect partners. The drummer's skittering, busy, polyrhythmic style was complemented by McBride's knack for always finding the right balance: he didn't use too many notes and played brilliantly within himself, clearly below the limits of his virtuoso technique.

Dropping in to catch a few minutes of Victor Wooten on the Maas stage--a huge, echoing space also used for a tennis tournament--was not the shrewdest decision. Of Flecktones fame, Wooten is an electric bass player par excellence. Countless videos of him performing ridiculously difficult technical stunts exist on YouTube. However, it is a shame to report that his band's music comes nowhere near this level of instrumental proficiency: tacky, cheesy and soulless, it is often geared towards generating showmanship opportunities for Victor and his guitarist brother Regi. There was no coherence. The only moment worth seeing was when the band went off stage entirely, leaving Victor alone to perform a few neat little tricks with his bass and a loop pedal.



The Bad Plus is one of the big jazz success stories of recent years. A young, eager standing audience had assembled in the Yukon tent and provided a rapturous welcome. From the start of the gig, it was clear the progressive trio go for a lot more when they play live. Drummer David King was exemplary in his scuttling crossrhythmic approach, throwing random accents onto different beats with joyous animated energy--he looked like a man possessed by the sheer exuberance of making music. The first few tunes, including "Big Eater," were as expected: crunchy, hard-hitting piano riffs combined with moments of delicate dynamic interaction as the three musicians rose and fell as one. Things took a turn for the worse, however, when kooky singer Wendy Lewis was presented. Billed as a new feature of upcoming album For All I Care, her wailing, moany vocals were off key at times--perhaps intentionally? She didn't add a great deal to the band's signature sound. One wonders about the reasoning for getting her involved in a group that has done so well with its instrumental concepts. In any case, maybe it is too early to pass judgement: it will be very interesting to hear the new CD when it appears.

Then it was a quick call on saxophonist David Sanchez. The Puerto Rican tenorman played in the Yenisei venue, a pleasant little room reminiscent of inner city jazz clubs. Sadly his set was drawing to a close, but there was enough time to see that Sanchez is very much back on the scene. This year he released Cultural Survival (Concord, 2008), a long-awaited disc to follow the Grammy-nominated Coral (Columbia, 2004). Backed by an able group of Lage Lund (guitar), Orlando Le Fleming (bass) and Henry Cole (drums), his lean, heavy tone was given ample space to live and breathe.

British saxophonist/flautist Finn Peters was on stage in the Murray tent, and there was time to catch a couple of tunes before going back to the Amazon for Wayne Shorter's headline show. Peters, who recently released his second album Butterflies (Accidental, 2008), was joined by stellar sidemen from the London circuit--including bassist Tom Herbert and pianist Tom Cawley, both of Acoustic Ladyland and Polar Bear fame. The result was an ambitious mix of crossover music drawing on influences as broad as Indonesian Gamelan and pulsating Afrobeat grooves, with a jazz undercurrent running through. It was pleasing to note these original concepts translate better into a live show than they appear on the record, which comes across as rather airy and lacking punch. Peters clearly possesses a high degree of musical knowledge; it would have been great to see him really let go with solos, but he is perhaps more a thinker than a showman. Nevertheless, this was a valuable contribution to the festival, a strong representation of the vibrant new UK jazz scene which is constantly growing in stature.

It was difficult knowing what to expect from Wayne Shorter. The only certain fact was that his quartet would be performing with the Imani Winds, a contemporary ensemble of flute, clarinet, oboe, bassoon and French horn. Imani opened proceedings, playing a complex Shorter original and a delightfully layered arrangement of Astor Piazzolla's "Libertango." Shorter then emerged with his all-star band featuring Danilo Perez (piano), John Patitucci (bass) and Brian Blade (drums). Each of these musicians has an outstanding track record, so to see them congregate with a legend such as Shorter sends any informed jazz fan into spasms of excitement.

They did not disappoint. The long opening piece built up through gentle movements, with Blade texturising and Patitucci alternating between arco and pizzicato. It was easy to detect a large improvised element in this dense exploration of the traditional jazz quartet's orchestral possibilities. They were listening to each other and communicating through their instruments. As the spontaneous composition gained magnitude, Shorter's wailing interjections would occasionally bring him to the front of the mix without detracting from the collective emphasis. He has become a master exponent of the less is more approach. When the Imani Winds joined later, a stronger aspect of organisation surfaced. Passages of improvisation were separated by arching arabesque melodies and coloured with nuanced harmonies in a thoroughly entrancing, vividly captivating artistic soundscape.

Fascinatingly, many onlookers seemed puzzled and bewildered; some even walked out. Shorter's new brand of structureless creation is not designed for casual listeners. It is a mark of his significance to jazz that, at the age of 74, he is still pushing boundaries and making music as advanced and challenging as any of the young avant garde. To compare this with the overtly crowd-pleasing performance of Herbie Hancock is intriguing; despite their longstanding friendship, the two could not be much further apart in terms of artistic philosophy. Hancock was spotted in the audience--what could he have been thinking?



A break was needed to digest this mind-bending musical experience. Due to a late start on the Amazon, Shorter's gig had overrun--thus jeopardising plans to return to the Yukon for Acoustic Ladyland (pictured). However, reliable sources confirm the talismanic trailblazers of the UK scene's recent revival had indeed taken the festival by storm. Agents on the same stage also report that the infamous Soil & "Pimp" Sessions, a Japanese group questionably labelled "death jazz" by music mogul Gilles Peterson, garnered a wave of encores as they made a similarly resounding impact.



Like David Sanchez, James Carter cuts a mysterious figure to jazz insiders. Another unquestionably gifted player, the multi-instrumentalist suffered from the breakdown of Atlantic Records' jazz department in 2000. Present Tense (Emarcy, 2008) marked a welcome return to disc after three years, and he showcased material from the album during his late set on the Madeira stage. Carter captivated the audience with cheerful charisma in the opening moments, before launching into a Sidney Bechet tune on which his vivacious soprano wove an intricate web of dazzling ideas. He quickly established a penchant for volatile, expressive howls and honks that were perfectly placed within the context of every solo alongside many more innovative sonic devices. Tracks from the album such as "Bossa JC," "Bro. Dolphy" (a leading feature on bass clarinet) and the gut-busting "Hymn of the Orient" were all given similar treatment. Apart from the startling degree of virtuosic control on each instrument he picked up, Carter's magnanimity also shone. All members of the band were given unlimited opportunity to display their considerable skills, with the saxophonist even sitting out on a ballad so young trumpeter Curtis Taylor could take the lead. With this triumphant return to touring, James Carter has reminded the jazz world of his place at the zenith of leading saxophonists.



As if that wasn't enough music for one day, word was spreading about an after-hours jam session on the Hudson stage. Horacio "El Negro" Hernandez had finished early and invited Roy Hargrove, Bobby McFerrin and others to join an impromptu Latin jazz free-for-all which was highly entertaining to watch. McFerrin, the festival's Artist in Residence for 2008, stepped forward on the melodica and piano, and a constant interchange of musicians from different bands kept things moving til the very end.


Day 3 - Sunday, July 13



The final day was always going to be busy, with a couple of tricky schedule clashes to work around (Alisha Keys not being one of them). On the outdoor Harlem stage, situated at the front of the Ahoy centre, Dutch funk group Lefties Soul Connection was warming people up for things to come. Tight, compact and precise, it was music to generate a good mood. A couple of local brass bands also played a series of guerrilla corridor gigs at random times throughout the festival, always pleasing to encounter.

US saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa opened the afternoon in the Yenisei room. As Mahanthappa and abstract pianist Vijay Iyer are stalwart collaborators, it was a shame not to see the latter on stage. Instead, the role was filled by a more than able deputy: Craig Taborn. It was only possible to stay for the first couple of tunes, but the band appeared to be simmering nicely and poised to take off. Mahanthappa's leathery, sinuous alto slithered effusively through convoluted compositions; the opening number featured a meditative sax intro before cranking up the gears into fizzing post-bop. Irregular manipulations from drummer Dan Weiss provoked a gushing, frenzied solo from the saxophonist before Taborn took over with a torrent of challenging ideas, pulling and distorting the concept of rhythmic conformity into blurry shapes of his own creation.

The reason for leaving was a very good one. Gary Burton, Steve Swallow, Pat Metheny and Antonio Sanchez were performing together, under the auspices of revisiting the 1970s quartet which produced thoughtful, cinematic music often specially composed by outside sources. Burton's employment of electric guitar and bass had been a new phenomenon in the '60s, helping to break down barriers between jazz and rock. These striking features became entrenched in his fruitful collaboration with Metheny and bassist Swallow, which is evidently as alive today as it was 40 years ago. There was a strong sense of group understanding on stage as they played their own material and pieces by Chick Corea, Keith Jarrett and Carla Bley. Burton's pioneering four-stick vibes technique was hypnotic, and Swallow was outstanding with short, sweet solos that always hit the mark. Metheny made sparing use of his signature guitar tone, entailing a greater impact when it did appear--its effervescent, shimmering quality cut through the complex harmonic backdrop provided by vibes and bass and Sanchez's trademark hustle. Hopefully its current European tour will not be the last time this enthralling quartet reunites.

Bass player Mark Helias has been a busy figure on the New York improv scene since joining Anthony Braxton's group in 1977. His current project, "Open Loose," is a trio with drums and sax that does exactly what you would expect from its name. The music is understatedly progressive in that no instrument leaps to the front and you have to listen carefully to appreciate what's going on--it's nothing like the zealous free jazz of Ornette Coleman or John Coltrane. In the words of Helias, the music represents a "constant state of flux." The bassist and Tom Rainey on drums operate almost telepathically; Helias often fills the absent role of a chordal instrument with texturising harmonies high up the fingerboard. Dep saxophonist Ellery Eskin's tenor was a good match, blowing coolly and melodically; his approach placed clarity of thought above the notion of a piercing sound.

Next stop was the Darling Concert Hall for Brad Mehldau, who surprised everyone by piping up in Dutch--after which he would have endeared himself to the audience no matter how he'd played. Opening with a serene ballad, it got steadily more interesting: the next tune featured a light drum'n'bass beat from Jeff Ballard and a left-hand piano riff held in unison with bassist Larry Grenadier while Mehldau elaborated a cunning solo. Hard bop, Monk and Irving Berlin were all on the agenda, but the definite highlight was a gently lilting Latin number by Chico Buarque. It seemed to go on and on, with Mehldau giving a virtuoso display of calculated pianism in a solo which told a real story, taking each segment to harmonic exhaustion and holding spectators rapt with awe. This steadfastly unflashy, patient approach--tied in with an occasional minimalist aesthetic--has placed Mehldau firmly in the vanguard of modern pianists.



The danger of information overload was high after the sequence of Mahanthappa, Burton et al, Open Loose and Mehldau in quick succession. Luckily, there is no better person to avert one of those head-exploding moments than Maceo Parker--the legend of funk sax was playing the Nile stage with Germany's brutally efficient WDR Big Band. In a far classier show than Friday evening's disastrous James Brown tribute, they rattled through favourites like "Pass the Peas," "Shake Everything You've Got" and "To Be Or Not To Be," Parker's alto leading the way with fiery, funky licks and a razor sharp tone. It is a pertinent sign of his influence that, when another saxist came down from the bandstand to trade phrases with the master, her playing was eerily similar to the man himself. Parker also demonstrated a richly soulful singing voice as he crooned a couple of suave covers to honour the late, great Ray Charles.



On the Amazon stage, scene of some of the festival's brightest moments, Branford Marsalis and his excellent quartet brought the curtain down in fitting fashion. As an intermittently underrated contributor to the post-bop idiom, Marsalis has been working solidly with Joey Calderazzo (piano), Jeff "Tain" Watts (drums) and Eric Revis (bass), racking up thousands of air miles on the international tour circuit. The saxophonist is distinctive as a stylist who speaks with highly contrasting tonal voices on tenor and soprano: in the first place brawny and muscular, but with a delicate quavering vibrato as the hallmark of his sound on the smaller horn. Tain's composition "Return of the Jitney Man" was a forceful opening statement. Marsalis's tenor spewed out a cascade of blistering runs, and Calderazzo's burning lyrical lines bounced off the keys with verve and zest. A free-time ballad calmed things down as the drummer's rubato shading afforded space for a mournful, emotional soprano solo that evoked the essence of a funeral song. The group's variety of moods and ease in handling sophisticated compositional ideas is testament to Marsalis's skill as a leader. While his trumpeter brother Wynton remains a staunch protagonist of the old school modus operandi, it is wonderful to see Branford pushing the music forward with this terrific array of sidemen. He needs to hold onto them as long as he can.

A quick wander revealed the ultimate festival finale was in fact taking place back at the Nile arena, where veteran bluesman Buddy Guy was playing out to a boisterous pack of ecstatic revellers. Although most of the serious music seemed to have been and gone, Guy was in his element, shouting, singing, showboating on guitar and even leaving the stage to enter the crowd. He is an old expert at instigating a strong rapport with the audience so, when he finally exited to a mountainous cheer, there could have been no better way to finish the weekend.

Photo Credit
Andrew Hayes

Published @ allaboutjazz, 31/7/08 - click here for original.

Neil Cowley Trio: What's In A Name?

Neil Cowley is a jazz musician who doesn’t listen to jazz. Frederick Bernas talks to him about his 20-year career on the piano stool.

When their debut album Displaced was released independently in 2006, the Neil Cowley Trio received mixed reactions. Conservative critics with a penchant for old school hard bop and pure, traditional jazz were quick to ridicule the newcomers as noisy, obtrusive, brusque showmen who didn’t improvise enough. However, dissenting voices were soon drowned out by an expanding legion of younger fans that flocked to the piano-hammering Cowley, relishing the raw energy and colourful emotion of his music.

“At early gigs, we had – bless them – the old blue rinse brigade show up quite a lot, put their fingers in their ears, and leave quite early,” says the pianist over a coffee in Chiswick, before a recording session with Adele at Metropolis Studios.

Since beginning his performance career aged 11, Cowley’s musical journey has been long and zig-zagged, with stops or U-turns at almost every junction. “I joined a pub blues band when I was 14,” he explains, “and from that point I wanted to do it for a living – it was sexy, you got into pubs underage and girls loved you. From the blues band I was introduced to contemporary black American music and discovered funk, soul, R&B and all that stuff.”

Cowley went on to join seminal funk outfit the Brand New Heavies, wearing flared trousers, playing Fender Rhodes and embarking on two world tours. “It was absolutely awesome, a pop spectacular way of living, a bit unrealistic in a way. It was a massive way to start and I’ve tried to diminish it into a world I can control ever since.”

Work with Zero 7 followed the Heavies gig, but after a period of busy touring it was time to settle down. He became one half of the critically successful chilled electronica group Fragile State, but in 2004 was forced to abandon the project as its record company liquidated. Time for another change: “I thought I would throw away the computer and focus on live music. We’d formed a jazz trio in 2002 and played standards, nothing too serious. But I started to realise I could have a voice within it and do something contemporary.”

Contemporary, indeed. Cowley’s group is the latest in a growing list of piano trios with the conventional jazz line-up that are pushing boundaries and breaking through the confines of the medium. The Bad Plus, the Esbjörn Svensson Trio (R.I.P. Esbjörn) and NY-based Israeli Avishai Cohen are among the frontrunners, but Cowley hesitates when asked about inevitable comparisons. “Strangely, I saw Esbjörn Svensson in 2002 and since then I’ve not listened to one single record, for fear of being subliminally influenced. Everyone says they hear those influences, whereas actually I avoid them like the plague because I don’t want to sound like them.”

The Trio’s second album, Loud… Louder… Stop! pays tribute to one of the aforementioned stuffy jazz purists – its title is a quote from a less than complimentary gig review. Cowley explains how “this guy saw us at the BBC Jazz Awards (where they won 2007 Album of the Year) and didn’t see what the fuss was all about,” before telling of how the group dealt with this apparent blow. “We thought ‘yeah, that’s genius really, it does sum up the band, he’s absolutely right and we’re not ashamed.’ So we named the new album Loud… Louder… Stop! and there’s a track called ‘Dinosaur Die’ which references that kind of thinking.”

The wit and cocky bravado which turned flak into flair has also worked its way into the Trio’s musical persona. A strong rapport exists between the three members; Cowley talks of the “usual smelly-men-on-tour antics” and a “collective sense of humour” they revel in. “We all get each other’s gags and jokes and that comes out on stage quite a lot. Throughout my early years I was dead scared to show any humour on stage – I thought it wasn’t credible to be flippant – but now we absolutely relish it. We relish coming out and not taking it too seriously, whereas before I took it extremely seriously. It’s good to be yourself on stage.”

This exciting live presence has won the Trio, which also features drummer Evan Jenkins and bassist Richard Sadler, a series of popular gigs in non-jazz settings. Recent appearances have been as diverse as Glastonbury, the Roundhouse (at Gilles Peterson’s ‘death jazz’ showcase), the Pizza Express Jazz Club (well, why not?) and Koko. Yes, the leading indie kid stomping ground. “We played at the iTunes festival,” Cowley explains. “It is odd, but they love it down there; they even put us up as Single of the Week. They can see the crossover potential, as it has something of the power trio about it.”

Herein lies the key to it all: crossover. Crudely speaking, it is a frightening power that can equally commit unspeakable crime (think jazz + pop = smooth jazz) and serve as a force for good (funk ÷ dub + poetry = hip-hop) in the artistic world. With Cowley’s highly varied career, it was perhaps inevitable he would end up pulling it all together into a complex amalgam of different genres: “I really don’t know what it is. On our MySpace page I put ‘neo-classical soul for shoegazers’ – it’s got everything we listen to in it. The format of the band is the jazz trio, but I hardly listen to jazz.”

Essentially, then, it is a jazz trio that doesn’t play jazz. Cowley appreciates that the band’s title has “made the battle harder” as it adopts the traditional naming system of jazz groups, but doesn’t seem overly fussed. “Obviously people are going to pigeonhole us because that’s what they do. Ultimately, they need to fit you somewhere in HMV, they need to put you in a section. You just need to put up with it and break on through – it’s all fusion really.”

And being bracketed does have its advantages. “There are a huge number of venues to play within jazz,” states Cowley, “so if you are someone who wants to play live, which I do, there’s no better genre to be part of. It’s having a revival in that sense – there are a huge number of places you can play and gigs you can target.”

“Our favourite pastime is converting people. We played at Glasgow Jazz Festival a few weeks ago and they put up a video of interviews with the audience. One guy said he had to drag two mates down to their first ever jazz gig and they were kicking and screaming; then they saw us play and were completely converted, they loved it.”

This widening appeal testifies that the modern mainstream can understand Neil Cowley’s music; a broad experience across different styles is arguably his strongest compositional tool. From driving, urgent, uplifting anthems to brooding, melancholically conscientious meditations, he uses a rich palette of mood and feeling with a distinct streak of confident humour. The Trio’s brash “balls-out” approach has emboldened with every gig – the blue rinse brigade certainly won’t be back for a while.

The Neil Cowley Trio play Pizza Express Jazz Club (0845 6027 017) on 24 July.

Published in London Tourdates magazine, 24/7/08.

Neil Cowley Trio - Koko, 20/7/08

Neil Cowley Trio + Portico Quartet
Koko, Camden
Sunday, 20/7/08

Two of our jazz scene’s rising names graced the stage at Koko, a venue normally reserved for the very latest disposable indie bands. Kudos must go to the iTunes festival programmers: even though the total number of acts performing at the month-long free event is 62, they could quite easily have overlooked jazz altogether – and they would have gotten away with it.

Both the Portico Quartet and the Neil Cowley Trio have proven popular with open-minded music fans, aptly illustrated by crowd demographics. The cavernous multi-level auditorium was full of young faces, nodding heads and tapping feet.

Cowley’s anthemic attack of the piano and humorous approach are key factors in his trio’s recent success. A typical tune will see them build up and break down a melodic idea in various ways, often smashed out in clustered, crunchy chords and accompanied by a rocky backbeat. Stomping rhythmic vamps on the piano alternate with dynamic or textural shifts in a pattern which could get a little boring if changes were not perfectly timed. They are, and the effects euphoric – as in ‘His Nibs,’ recently dubbed iTunes Single of The Week for good reason.

Another example was ‘Clown Town,’ which does justice to its name – it sounds like the twisted theme tune of a drunken clown stumbling around. ‘Clumsy Couple’ could be more of the same thing. But it’s not all about the comedic aspect of songwriting. The trio can resist the urge to pounce; they are capable of maintaining a more nuanced mood and exploring it in itself, rather than using the gentler dynamic as a throwaway device to develop the opportunity for a grandstand finale. It’s still not exactly balladesque, but that is part of the appeal.

In a live setting the trio stretch out more than is evident on CD. There may not be a lot of bona fide improvisation, but there is a great degree of collective interaction around the groove – they work together as an incredibly tight unit. Cowley is an agile master of the keys and has learnt to make the most of his powerful technique, combining it with wit and charisma to create one of the most accessible jazz groups to emerge for some time.


Published @ jazzwisemagazine.com, 24/7/08 - click here for original.

Latin Funk Spectacular to hit Jazz Café

Tuesday 29 July will see two acclaimed Latin funk collectives take to the Jazz Café stage in a special gig to showcase new albums on Aire Sol Records.

Hailed as one of the hardest-working and most exciting bands to emerge from the States in the last decade, Grupo Fantasma draws on a wide variety of influences from the 1960s’ Fania All-Stars through to folk-fusion wonderkid Manu Chao. Sonidos Gold, released in June this year, is described by bandleader Adrian Quesada as “the one we’ve wanted to make from the beginning,” and features guest appearances from, among others, legendary saxist Maceo Parker. Prince is also a designated star fan, having given the 10-piece group a two-month residency at his Las Vegas nightclub.

Homenaje, the debut album from label-mates Brownout, was two-and-a-half years in the making. It was worth waiting for. Simmering, acerbic grooves, catchy guitar riffs and richly funky solos come as standard. It’s impossible not to feel the energetic party vibes - the CD is one to turn up and play loud, which almost always translates into a highly enjoyable live experience. In fact, you probably won’t be surprised to find out that the eight members of Brownout all play in Grupo Fantasma.

There is clearly a deep pool of talent in Austin, Texas — the home city of both groups. More importantly, they have evidently worked incredibly hard to bring their music to a global audience: the label was formed in 1999. Now they are reaping the rewards, with distribution deals and festival appearances to take things to a new level. Watch out.

Links:
Grupo Fantasma - www.grupofantasma.com / www.myspace.com/fantasmics
Brownout! - www.myspace.com/brownoutmusic / www.brownoutmusic.blogspot.com
Aire Sol Records - www.myspace.com/airesolrecord

Published @ Fly, 22/7/08 - click here for original.

New wave of UK jazz groups shine at Europe’s biggest jazz festival

North Sea Jazz Festival
11-13 July 2008
Ahoy, Rotterdam

A veritable Who’s Who of contemporary jazz was on the bill at the 33rd North Sea Jazz Festival, with titanic names like Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter alongside an exciting selection of newcomers. Empirical, Led Bib, Finn Peters, Acoustic Ladyland and others represented the vibrant new UK scene – highlighted as an official theme of this year’s event.

Hancock, with his all-star quintet of Chris Potter, Dave Holland, Lionel Loueke and Vinnie Colaiuta, played to a rapturous audience on Friday night. They delivered the standard funk repertoire with expected finesse, but Hancock was guilty of over-indulgent synth use and an extended keytar solo. The set of recycled classics was immeasurably crowd-pleasing, but it laid bare Hancock’s recent shift towards the mainstream market.

If Hancock has become increasingly commercial, Wayne Shorter is his new arch-nemesis. The saxophonist’s quartet gave the most progressive performance on any stage. A long, undulating, largely spontaneous composition, based on collective empathy and listening to one another, puzzled many onlookers. When the Imani Winds joined in, a hint of orchestrated structure came with them: a spiralling, arabesque theme punctuated moments of free improv, thoroughly absorbing those people brave enough to stay. At 74, Shorter’s creative fire is still burning; his music is as advanced and challenging as any of the young avant garde.

On smaller stages, Acoustic Ladyland gave a typically storming performance and Led Bib drew screams of encouragement with the grimy, punky persona spearheaded by Zorn disciple Mark Holub. Both are surely more ‘death jazz’ than Soil & “Pimp” Sessions, recently dubbed as such by Gilles Peterson, whose high-octane display of backbeat hard bop received repeated encores. James Carter was also in fine form – his consummate virtuosity, passionately gritty tone and constant flow of ideas firmly places him among the top saxophonists of today.

A remarkable 70,000 visitors attended the festival, which spanned 200 shows across 15 stages in only three days. Its position as the highest-profile jazz showcase in Europe is hard to dispute.


Published @ jazzwisemagazine.com, 21/7/08 - click here for original.

Blink - Blink

Blink: Blink
LOOP Records

The latest offering from London’s infamous LOOP Collective, this eponymous debut features an unconventional bass-less trio of pianist Alcyona Mick, Robin Fincker on tenor sax and clarinet and drummer Paul Clarvis. All demonstrate considerable capabilities in the field of loose, open jazz which is experimental yet accessible.

Mick’s command of the low registers and occasionally percussive propulsion compensates for the lack of bassist, providing part of a stimulating backdrop for Fincker’s lean, airy tones to trace a weaving path. As if liberated, Clarvis shines in his use of textural variations away from the idea of a steady pulse.

This is ‘free’ jazz, but not in the extreme. Compositional similarities can be made to the likes of Polar Bear, The Blessing and Led Bib – a clear element of free-form collective improvisation is offset by a reticent yet unpredictable sense of control and direction. The balance has been finely cultivated, with track length maintained at a modest five-minute average: none of the solos are over-indulgent or tiring.



< Published in London Tourdates, 11/7/08.

Kenny Garrett - Ronnie Scott's, 2/7/08

Hackneyed cliché it may be, but Kenny Garrett really has done it all. Work with names such as Duke Ellington, Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock provides a mere glimpse of his glittering CV, augmented by recording dates for labels including Atlantic, Warner and Nonesuch.

At Ronnie’s he was joined by Lennie Stalworth on bass, Jeff Motley on organ and impressive young drummer Justin Brown. The opening number was reminiscent of Davis’s late fusion group, in which Garrett prominently featured, and he opted to play his alto through a variety of electronic effects. Its fluid, shimmering tone was cheapened to the level of poor quality synth sax and struggled for penetration above the bustling band.

This alarming trait continued, with Garrett often abandoning his horn to join Motley on a second keyboard. Not a wise move. Indeed, it was Brown on drums who threw up the most surprises; his energetic, imaginative cross-rhythmic ideas saved many tunes from turning into drearily predictable elevator music.

Garrett’s apparent preference for cheesy smooth jazz in the vein of near-namesake jazz pariah Kenny G will leave purists foaming at the mouth. A final grandstand version of ‘Happy People’ served as the perfect example: with its gospelesque organ vamps and cringingly catchy sing-along sax melody, accompanied by animated calls from Garrett to bring the crowd to its feet for repeated choruses, it represented an undeniable trend of “selling out” to popular appeal.

The performance’s jazz merit was questionable – especially in relation to Garrett’s established post-bop credentials. However, if judged only against itself, it cannot fail to satisfy. The skull-capped saxophonist’s open defiance of “Quiet Please” jazz club decorum demands respect. How often does a full house at Ronnie Scott’s rise as one to sing, dance and applaud? Traditionalists will always take issue, but lovers of enjoyable good-time music have a powerful counterargument.

Published at jazzwise.com, 9/7/08.