I was greatly saddened to learn of the death of Davy Graham on the 15th December. He was a musician that made a huge impact on the folk music scene of the 1960's and then seemed to slowly faded from sight over the next decade, although his musical influence continued to spread outwards like ripples in a pond. I've written elsewhere in this blog about discovering his music for the first time (see The twang's not the thang) but in recent years his albums have been reissued and I for one have bought a few of them and rediscovered his music all over again,
With another forty or so years worth of listening and playing experience under my belt I realised that Graham wasn't just an innovative guitar player: he was an extraordinary musician who just happened to play the guitar. I'm fairly certain that he would have made great music on whatever instrument he had focused on. We may well have been denied a virtuoso trombonist or harpist or kazoo player, come to that - the instrument wasn't the point. It was the ideas that were so stunning. That he did focus on the guitar was fortunate because there was a very receptive audience for acoustic guitar music out there just waiting to be wowed. Personally, I find that the more I listen to those records, the more wowed I become. Davy Graham seemed to have the same attitude as another of my heroes, the Brazilian composer and multi-instrumentalist Hermeto Pascoal, characterised by a refusal to think in terms of musical pigeon holes but rather to see music as a whole - as a river flowing past that could be dipped into at any point.
Here's a nineteen year old Davy, caught on film in 1959 playing 'Cry Me A River'
And here's some footage from the BBC's 'Folk Britannia' documentary series -
and here's a track from the EP that originally introduced me to his music.
For further information, here are some links -
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Davey_Graham
http://www.daveygraham.moonfruit.com/
http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2008/dec/17/folk-blues-music
http://www.cosmicsurfer.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/Davygraham.html
The doings - past and present - of a 60 something musician.
Monday, 29 December 2008
Monday, 15 December 2008
Desert Island Discs
Desert Island Discs is one of those programmes that irritates me more often than it delights me, but sometimes, delight me it does, and that’s why I continue to listen to it. Often the interviewees are thoroughly unmusical, sometimes they are extremely boring and occasionally they are self important prats. More often than not though, it’s a case of ’vaguely interesting person chooses vaguely uninteresting music’ - there’s an awful lot of Bob Dylan and Puccini…But once in a while someone chooses something that I love – which always gets my attention, and once in a while somebody chooses something that I’ve never heard before but end up loving.
I first identified one of the Bach cello suites when Tom Courtenay chose it about forty years ago. I say identified because I’d heard the piece before and had been entranced by it. There is a scene in Jazz On A Summer’s Day (see Folk me sideways for more about this film) when the camera cuts back and forth between shots of the America’s Cup races taking place off of Newport, Rhode Island, and Fred Katz, cellist with the Chico Hamilton Quintet, practising in his room. At the time I assumed that Katz was improvising (albeit brilliantly), but the music stuck in my mind and stayed with me until Tom chose it and the light dawned. I subsequently bought the Pablo Casals recording of the complete Bach Cello Suites and it has remained a favourite ever since. Much to my surprise I found this clip of Casals playing part of Suite No 1 around 1953
Quite a few years later I was listening to the adventurer and writer Tim Severin’s choice. He had, amongst other things, emulated one of the Celtic saint’s legendary crossing of the Atlantic ocean in a leather boat, and had written a book about it. One of Severin’s selections was a jig called Water Under The Keel, which was from an orchestral suite for Uillean pipes and orchestra by the composer Shaun Davey. This immediately grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and gave me a damn good shaking and I was forced to go out and by the record of The Brendan Voyage – which was the title both of the suite and of the book that inspired it The piper on this was Liam O'Flynn, who was one of the founder members of the Irish group Planxty, one of the most innovative and influential musical units that Ireland had ever seen. The 'embedding feature for this YouTube clip of an extract from the piece has been disabled but you can see it by clicking here.
In 2004 my attention was grabbed again when the ‘death row’ lawyer, Clive Stafford Smith chose the forty part motet Spem In Alium by Thomas Tallis as one of his eight records. Again I marvelled at a sound, and couldn’t wait to buy a recording so as to hear that glorious noise on my Quad speakers instead of on the bathroom radio. (I tend to take a late shower on a Sunday.) Here is a clip of the work, performed by The Tallis Scholars.
I’m sure that I’m not alone in occasionally fantasising about being on the programme, and I’ve often started to compile my own eight records. I say ‘started’ because no matter how I try, I can never finish the list because there are so many great pieces of music that I just couldn’t do without. In fact if I’m ever invited on to the programme I shan’t take any music with me at all. I’ll choose a gun as my luxury and shoot myself as soon as I land, because the prospect of living for years with only eight records is just too awful to contemplate…
I first identified one of the Bach cello suites when Tom Courtenay chose it about forty years ago. I say identified because I’d heard the piece before and had been entranced by it. There is a scene in Jazz On A Summer’s Day (see Folk me sideways for more about this film) when the camera cuts back and forth between shots of the America’s Cup races taking place off of Newport, Rhode Island, and Fred Katz, cellist with the Chico Hamilton Quintet, practising in his room. At the time I assumed that Katz was improvising (albeit brilliantly), but the music stuck in my mind and stayed with me until Tom chose it and the light dawned. I subsequently bought the Pablo Casals recording of the complete Bach Cello Suites and it has remained a favourite ever since. Much to my surprise I found this clip of Casals playing part of Suite No 1 around 1953
Quite a few years later I was listening to the adventurer and writer Tim Severin’s choice. He had, amongst other things, emulated one of the Celtic saint’s legendary crossing of the Atlantic ocean in a leather boat, and had written a book about it. One of Severin’s selections was a jig called Water Under The Keel, which was from an orchestral suite for Uillean pipes and orchestra by the composer Shaun Davey. This immediately grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and gave me a damn good shaking and I was forced to go out and by the record of The Brendan Voyage – which was the title both of the suite and of the book that inspired it The piper on this was Liam O'Flynn, who was one of the founder members of the Irish group Planxty, one of the most innovative and influential musical units that Ireland had ever seen. The 'embedding feature for this YouTube clip of an extract from the piece has been disabled but you can see it by clicking here.
In 2004 my attention was grabbed again when the ‘death row’ lawyer, Clive Stafford Smith chose the forty part motet Spem In Alium by Thomas Tallis as one of his eight records. Again I marvelled at a sound, and couldn’t wait to buy a recording so as to hear that glorious noise on my Quad speakers instead of on the bathroom radio. (I tend to take a late shower on a Sunday.) Here is a clip of the work, performed by The Tallis Scholars.
I’m sure that I’m not alone in occasionally fantasising about being on the programme, and I’ve often started to compile my own eight records. I say ‘started’ because no matter how I try, I can never finish the list because there are so many great pieces of music that I just couldn’t do without. In fact if I’m ever invited on to the programme I shan’t take any music with me at all. I’ll choose a gun as my luxury and shoot myself as soon as I land, because the prospect of living for years with only eight records is just too awful to contemplate…
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Richard Bona Band at the Barbican, November 26th 2008
Left to right: Adam Stoler, Etienne Stadwijk, Ernesto Simpson, Richard Bona,
Robert Quintero, Taylor Haskins
I travelled up to London at the weekend with mixed feelings. On the one hand I was on my way to see a concert that I was greatly looking forward to. On the other hand, the last gig I had attended at the Barbican (Maria Rita) was ruined by appalling sound mixing. I need not have worried. The sound mix was spot-on for the whole show.
The evening's music was kicked off by the excellent Danilo Perez Trio. Under other circumstances I would have enjoyed their set considerably more, but it really did not fit the mood of the evening. Never-the-less, the musicianship was of a very high order and the other members of the trio - Ben Street (bass) and Adam Cruz (drums) - integrated perfectly with Perez's playing, complimenting every twist and turn within the music. Despite some light-hearted attempts at audience interaction by Perez, the trio never really took charge of the proceedings. However, I would not hesitate to go and see them perform in their own right. Here's a clip of them performing 'Alone Together' at Arturo Sandoval's club last year.
The problem was that most people were anticipating more of a party atmosphere - which was exactly what they got when Bona and his band took to the stage!
There was an immediate sense of - what I can only describe as - security as the band commenced to play. The audience knew that it was in safe hands for the rest of the evening, and the groove was so immediate and insistent that you could practically feel the Barbican resonating in sympathy. This was not achieved by volume but by the sheer infectious precision of the musicians. The programme notes included a quote from a Guardian review which sums it up beautifully -"...music that makes you smile, moves your feet and touches your heart in ways that more celebrated music personalities can only dream about."
Bona is a virtuoso electric bass player who has - as did the late Jaco Pastorius (the man that inspired him to take up the bass in the first place) - the ability to play exactly the note you want to hear at exactly the moment that you want to hear it, only you don't know that that's what you want to hear until you've heard it! He also has a beautiful voice and writes most of his own material which he sings in (I think) his native Douala language (he is from Cameroon). The songs utilise an eclectic selection of grooves, moving freely between Latin, jazz-funk and African beats. Bona's bass and voice were complemented by a superb band whose unbeleivable tightness kept a big grin plastered more or less permanently on my face. They were :- Adam Stoler - guitar; Taylor Haskins - trumpet; Etienne Stadwijk - keyboards; Roberto Quintero - percussion and Ernesto Simpson - drums. It is difficult choose a favourite moment from the evening but if pushed I would nominate the band's version of Jaco's 'Liberty City' (see the previous posting for a YouTube clip of an earlier line-up's performance of this tune) and the moment when the band left the stage and Bona transformed himself into a choir with the aid of 'sample and hold' technology. At the end of the evening the performers were thanked with a standing ovation which brought them back for an encore,provoking yet another standing ovation, but this time a -no doubt exhausted - band stayed in the dressing room. This, for me, was undoubtedly 'gig of the year'.
Here are another couple of clips. First, here's the 2006 line-up perforing one of Richard's songs at the Stockholm jazz festival -
and finally here's Richard performing another of his compositions -'Dina Lam' with Bobby McFerrin'
Roll on the new album!
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Odds, sods and apologies
Dear loyal readers (all three of you), please accept my humble apologies for a somewhat lengthy break since the last posting. I plead pressure of work and the headaches, along with a singularly annoying Flash! Bang! Wallop! that was in fact my computer deciding to celebrate Guy Fawks Night in its own inimitable fashion ( for the benefit of my overseas reader - see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Fawkes_Night )
There are, you will be depressed to find out, several postings in preparation at the moment, including a piece about Desert Island Discs as an occasional source of musical inspiration, and an interview with the greatly underrated British jazz guitarist, John Coverdale (He's so underrated that you'll have to scroll through this directory to find him). These will be proceeded by a review of the Richard Bona concert that takes place at The Barbican this coming Sunday and to which I am greatly looking forward (to boldly split an infinitive or two).
The Bona concert gives me the excuse to include another YouTube clip just to whet your appetites if you're not already familiar with his playing. Here's his band with a nod from Bona to one of his big influences as they play the Jaco Pastorius composition -'Liberty City'
And I really should mention the excellent Randy Newman concert aired on BBC4 last week. He gave a great performance of what ought to have been 'greatest hits' if there was any justice in this world, accompanied superbly by the BBC Concert Orchestra, who were clearly enjoying every minute of it. He also played a couple of songs from his new album, 'Harps and Angels', which are (and is, if you follow me) as good as ever. Here, however is an old favourite that is as pertinent as it was when he wrote it in 1972 or thereabouts - 'Political Science', performed by him back in 2004.
Finally, here's another look at the problems expressed above - 'A Few Words in Defence of Our Country' which is on the latest album.
That's it for now. Enjoy! I'm off to see Richard Bona...
There are, you will be depressed to find out, several postings in preparation at the moment, including a piece about Desert Island Discs as an occasional source of musical inspiration, and an interview with the greatly underrated British jazz guitarist, John Coverdale (He's so underrated that you'll have to scroll through this directory to find him). These will be proceeded by a review of the Richard Bona concert that takes place at The Barbican this coming Sunday and to which I am greatly looking forward (to boldly split an infinitive or two).
The Bona concert gives me the excuse to include another YouTube clip just to whet your appetites if you're not already familiar with his playing. Here's his band with a nod from Bona to one of his big influences as they play the Jaco Pastorius composition -'Liberty City'
And I really should mention the excellent Randy Newman concert aired on BBC4 last week. He gave a great performance of what ought to have been 'greatest hits' if there was any justice in this world, accompanied superbly by the BBC Concert Orchestra, who were clearly enjoying every minute of it. He also played a couple of songs from his new album, 'Harps and Angels', which are (and is, if you follow me) as good as ever. Here, however is an old favourite that is as pertinent as it was when he wrote it in 1972 or thereabouts - 'Political Science', performed by him back in 2004.
Finally, here's another look at the problems expressed above - 'A Few Words in Defence of Our Country' which is on the latest album.
That's it for now. Enjoy! I'm off to see Richard Bona...
Monday, 3 November 2008
Further tales of Berkhamsted...
This was not what I had intended to be posting next but life often throws stuff at you that you weren't expecting...
During the course of writing my last posting (See Emily play) I made contact with Al Merritt (the drummer on the gig that I had described there) and sent him a link to the page. I soon received a reply from him which said (amongst other things)-
"...I read some of your blog this evening and I need to take you to task concerning the night at Berkhamstead Town Hall. You are quite wrong in your interpretation of the sequence that lead to Monty playing the bass. The unnamed bass player and I had played quite a few times with Monty and if anything he was impressed with this unmentioned player. Can I ask you not to go any further with that particular reminiscence until I have had a chance to talk to others who attended the concert. I will deal with this subject as quickly as possible and come back to you with further comments.
Cheers
Al
I replied as follows-
"re the blog:
I may well be wrong in my interpretation of events but I have carried that as an extremely strong memory for a long time. That's certainly the way things seemed to happen - so much so that I did not put in the usual caveats of - "it looked as if..." or "it seemed like...". However, I know from personal experience that truth can be a subjective thing that is often a matter of perceptions, so I welcome your version of events - you were, after all, a lot closer to the action than I was - and will happily post it on the blog. That, after all, is why the 'comment' box is a part of my blog. It is to allow people a place to state their own opinions, or, where necessary, correct me. Incidentally, if I'm not mistaken, the bass player was Alan Simmons,for whom I had considerable respect. I personally could not see what Monty was apparently complaining about and left Alan's name out of the recollection for that reason..."
A week went by and then Al sent me this -
"Here's the answer from 'the horse's mouth' via Mike Hennessey.
Hope that now clears up the matter.
Attached was this email from Mike Hennessey -
Dear Al:
I just had a call from Monty who says that (Votarol)'s blog is rubbish. What I did, says Monty, was just a gag. Alan Simmons is a very fine bass player and there is no way in which I would do what (Voltarol) says. If I had seriously thought that Alan wasn't measuring up, then the last thing I would do would be to deal with the matter onstage. But the fact is, Alan's playing was fine and what I did was just a joke.
And he sends his best regards to you, Alan and Brian.
Cheers!
Mike
This was my reply -
Dear Mike Hennessey,
Al Merritt has just forwarded your email to me and I have noted its contents and will of course post it on my blog. There was, I assure you, never any malicious intention in telling that story. I reported what I thought I had seen in all good faith, and I was not the only person in the audience to walk away from that evening with the same impression. In fact, hearing from 'the horse's mouth' that it was a gag makes me feel like a bit of a horse's arse, but a rather relieved one because I had thought less of Monty because of it. Please offer him my unreserved apologies and explain that his acting was as convincing as his piano playing! I genuinely believed that I had seen an altercation.
Regards,
(Voltarol)
...and that was that, I thought. I'll eat my humble pie and move on. But never underestimate a nice bloke. By return I received the following -
Dear (Voltarol):
Many thanks for your message. I appreciate your response and I am quite sure that there was no malicious intent on your part. It is easy to understand how such an incident could be misinterpreted.
I will pass on your apology to Monty.
With best regards,
Mike
All this left me with rather mixed feelings. Should I have reported what I thought I saw without checking with someone first? Well - yes and no. If I had had any doubts about what I had seen then - no. But I didn't have any doubts at all so - if you are trying to be an honest reporter then you have to call it as you see it. And yet I had totally misinterpreted what I had seen. It just makes one wonder how many other 'truths' are out there that could be nothing more than a joke taken at face value. I'll just wipe the remains of the egg off my face whilst saying once again "Sorry, Monty".
Just as a reminder of what a fine musician he is, here are a couple of clips. First, here he is duetting with fellow pianist Billy Taylor on 'Joy Spring'
and here he breathes new life into Bob Marley's 'No Woman, No Cry' -
For further information about Monty Alexander, here's his website
During the course of writing my last posting (See Emily play) I made contact with Al Merritt (the drummer on the gig that I had described there) and sent him a link to the page. I soon received a reply from him which said (amongst other things)-
"...I read some of your blog this evening and I need to take you to task concerning the night at Berkhamstead Town Hall. You are quite wrong in your interpretation of the sequence that lead to Monty playing the bass. The unnamed bass player and I had played quite a few times with Monty and if anything he was impressed with this unmentioned player. Can I ask you not to go any further with that particular reminiscence until I have had a chance to talk to others who attended the concert. I will deal with this subject as quickly as possible and come back to you with further comments.
Cheers
Al
I replied as follows-
"re the blog:
I may well be wrong in my interpretation of events but I have carried that as an extremely strong memory for a long time. That's certainly the way things seemed to happen - so much so that I did not put in the usual caveats of - "it looked as if..." or "it seemed like...". However, I know from personal experience that truth can be a subjective thing that is often a matter of perceptions, so I welcome your version of events - you were, after all, a lot closer to the action than I was - and will happily post it on the blog. That, after all, is why the 'comment' box is a part of my blog. It is to allow people a place to state their own opinions, or, where necessary, correct me. Incidentally, if I'm not mistaken, the bass player was Alan Simmons,for whom I had considerable respect. I personally could not see what Monty was apparently complaining about and left Alan's name out of the recollection for that reason..."
A week went by and then Al sent me this -
"Here's the answer from 'the horse's mouth' via Mike Hennessey.
Hope that now clears up the matter.
Attached was this email from Mike Hennessey -
Dear Al:
I just had a call from Monty who says that (Votarol)'s blog is rubbish. What I did, says Monty, was just a gag. Alan Simmons is a very fine bass player and there is no way in which I would do what (Voltarol) says. If I had seriously thought that Alan wasn't measuring up, then the last thing I would do would be to deal with the matter onstage. But the fact is, Alan's playing was fine and what I did was just a joke.
And he sends his best regards to you, Alan and Brian.
Cheers!
Mike
This was my reply -
Dear Mike Hennessey,
Al Merritt has just forwarded your email to me and I have noted its contents and will of course post it on my blog. There was, I assure you, never any malicious intention in telling that story. I reported what I thought I had seen in all good faith, and I was not the only person in the audience to walk away from that evening with the same impression. In fact, hearing from 'the horse's mouth' that it was a gag makes me feel like a bit of a horse's arse, but a rather relieved one because I had thought less of Monty because of it. Please offer him my unreserved apologies and explain that his acting was as convincing as his piano playing! I genuinely believed that I had seen an altercation.
Regards,
(Voltarol)
...and that was that, I thought. I'll eat my humble pie and move on. But never underestimate a nice bloke. By return I received the following -
Dear (Voltarol):
Many thanks for your message. I appreciate your response and I am quite sure that there was no malicious intent on your part. It is easy to understand how such an incident could be misinterpreted.
I will pass on your apology to Monty.
With best regards,
Mike
All this left me with rather mixed feelings. Should I have reported what I thought I saw without checking with someone first? Well - yes and no. If I had had any doubts about what I had seen then - no. But I didn't have any doubts at all so - if you are trying to be an honest reporter then you have to call it as you see it. And yet I had totally misinterpreted what I had seen. It just makes one wonder how many other 'truths' are out there that could be nothing more than a joke taken at face value. I'll just wipe the remains of the egg off my face whilst saying once again "Sorry, Monty".
Just as a reminder of what a fine musician he is, here are a couple of clips. First, here he is duetting with fellow pianist Billy Taylor on 'Joy Spring'
and here he breathes new life into Bob Marley's 'No Woman, No Cry' -
For further information about Monty Alexander, here's his website
Friday, 17 October 2008
See Emily play
I was talking to Tony Oreshko the other day about our mutual enthusiasm for the late Emily Remler, a fine jazz guitarist from New York who was just beginning to emerge as a truly distinctive voice when she died of heart failure at the tragically young age of 32. Tony has written an essay about her on his website (see right for link) and I was reminiscing about having seen her play in, of all places, Berkhamsted in Buckinghamshire in the early 1980’s.I first became aware of her when I was running a specialist guitar shop in partnership with luthier Richard Bartram (you’ll have to Google his web site - he’s asked me to remove the link from my pages because he’s convinced that the more links there are, the more spam he gets, and he’s up to his ears in spam!). We stocked a great many guitar records along with the instruments, amplifiers, accessories, strings, spares and sheet music, and I was importing a number of specialist labels which included the American jazz label, Concord. The label featured quite a few interesting guitar albums by the likes of Herb Ellis, Tal Farlow, Charlie Byrd, and George Barnes. As a consequence, when I saw the name ‘Emily Remler’ listed in such company I thought it might be worth stocking some of her albums. I was not disappointed. She was not a great player but she was very good. You could easily detect the influences on her playing and she did not yet have a distinctive voice of her own, but she was only in her very early twenties and it was clear that hers was a talent to be watched or rather, listened to.
At this time I was running a weekly jazz club at The Load of Hay in Uxbridge. (By an odd coincidence, my good friend Leigh Heggarty is about to launch a music venue there - see his blog under Leigh's mad world of... harps?!? He and I, in our Blue Five persona, played there together in about 1986.) I received a phone call one day from a fellow jazz promoter, who told me that the great Jamaican pianist Monty Alexander was touring England and had a spare date to fill. Was I interested in putting him on? The catch was that I only had five days in which to organise it! (If you are not familiar with his playing then here’s a clip of his trio playing ‘Satin Doll’ at the Montreux Jazz Festival in 1976. Don’t be fooled by the little boogy intro…)
Needless to say, I was very interested in deed but knew that The Load of Hay did not have the capacity to make this into a financially viable event unless the ticket price was outrageously high. Despite the fact that there would be no way of advertising this except by word of mouth, I attempted to secure the use of Brunel University’s main hall. It was close by, it held enough people, it had a bar and would suit the occasion very well, provided that I could also hire in a Steinway and a piano tuner for the day…
The potential cost of the event was snowballing rapidly but I am nothing if not optimistic so after a frantic day of phoning and cajoling I was able to phone back and say “Yes please”, only to be told that the date had been snapped up by the Berkhamsted jazz club whilst I’d been running around like the proverbial azure-bottomed insect trying to make it happen. I had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand I had been saved from the possibility of losing a lot of money (my best hope for this event was that I would have – with luck and a following wind – broken even) but on the other hand Monty Alexander would be playing within easy driving distance of my home. I bit the bullet and bought the tickets.
I think the gig was in Berkhamsted town hall and I think it was on a Saturday night, but I can’t be sure of either of those facts. What I can be sure of is that the evening’s music was kicked off by the Chas Burchell quintet, whose drummer, Al Merrit, I knew well and had worked with in the past. After their set there was an interval and then Monty Alexander took to the stage, accompanied by the rhythm section of Chas Burchell’s group – Al and a bass player who shall remain nameless. Monty quickly took exception to the bassist's whole choice of notes, intonation and ability to play generally, and proceeded to take him to task about it, eventually getting up from the piano, taking the bass from him and demonstrating the part himself. Finally, he handed the bass back to its owner and returned to the piano, played one tune and then announced that he would now be joined on stage by his wife – Emily Remler. Emily duly took to the stage and played for the rest of the evening.
I would like to report that it was a memorable night musically but I can’t in all honesty. I suspect that the pair of them were not playing at their best that night – it was never less than very good, but I can’t recall any details of the music at all, other than who was playing it. In fact, Emily was still developing. With each album that she released she became more distinctive, continuing to work mainly within a hard bop framework but occasionally venturing into bossa novas (she had worked with Astrud Gilberto for a while). However, her development was somewhat hampered by an ongoing heroin habit, and her early death (in 1990) came as no great surprise, sad though it was.
Then a few years ago, Richard Bartram played me an Emily Remler album that I didn’t know about. It was called ‘This Is Me’ and I was completely blown away by it. It was the last thing that she recorded and had been released posthumously. It marked an entirely new direction for her, consisting as it did entirely of original material - much of it with a strong Brazilian flavour – and it inhabited a much more contemporary environment. You could still hear traces of her original inspirations - Wes Montgomery and Herb Ellis - and she had also taken note of Pat Metheny, but there was something fresh and original about this album that really moved me. I was delighted when it was reissued a few years ago and I was able to own a copy. I still play it regularly but can never hear the last track on the album without feeling the tears well up with the knowledge that all that was promised by this album will never now be.
Here are a few clips that will give you an idea of what she was about. Sadly there are none of the ‘This Is Me’ material. Here she is playing one of her own - Brazilian flavoured -compositions called 'Nunca Mais' ('Never Again'), with John Abercrombie.
And here she is duetting on 'Stella by Starlight' with John Scofield (who, incidentally was the announcer for the previous clip).
For much more information and many more clips, including an interview with Emily, go to allthingsemily.com
Unfortunately, the CD has once again been deleted but you can buy it in MP3 download form at last.fm
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
A Conversation with Carrie Mann – part two
Photo by Eliot Siegal
Carrie Mann is a Cornwall-based singer whose Carrie Mann Jazz Quartet has been playing successfully around the South West for the last six or seven years. I have known her since she sat in with my band one night, not long before she started her own group, and thought she would make for an interesting interview. In fact, our conversation went on far longer than I’d expected but for the best possible reasons. Once we got started we just couldn’t stop. The results appear below and in the previous posting \if you are new to the blog, the interview starts here.
Voltarol: So you went from stumbling around in the dark to being very focused about it?
Carrie: Yeah, but then I lost my way a little bit again…because I was earning a living from it…did I want to go back to…hmm…what am I going to have to do?...an office job?...I didn’t want to do that. I was having fun earning a living singing…but…I’d left home by then. You’ve got rent to pay, you’ve got bills to pay back at home and it’s a matter of – You take the first singing job that’s offered to enable you to keep singing and earning your money that way. Or you sit tight and wait for one that comes up that would suit you better. I chose not to do that…I didn’t want to go back to Birmingham, back to temping in offices…so I eventually took the first job that was offered to me singing…so once our time on North Sea Ferries ran out went and got a summer season at Pontins with a show band. It was a good experience and I think – if anyone can survive doing every night for a year in a Pontins Holiday Camp then you’ve got a fairly good background of experience about an audience – how it works, what works, what doesn’t. So that was very much a learning ground, but it wasn’t doing music that I love at all…and if I have to do Tina Turner’s ‘Simply the Best’ one more time…well…I’d rather not! (Laughs)
V: Ha! My bête noir was…I did function bands for quite a long time…and if I ever have to play ‘Yellow River’ again…aaargh…
C: Yes…we all have those tunes.
V: There comes a breaking point! Strangely, for me it wasn’t the Birdy Song’.
C: Really?
V: No. Although it’s viler than ‘Yellow River’, when I started doing the function circuit we were doing ‘Yellow River’ and when I finished doing the function circuit we were doing ‘Yellow River’ and one day I just went “AAAARGH! NO MORE!” I can’t do it.
C: (Laughs)
V: Whereas ‘The Birdy Song’…there’s a certain amusement…you know, you play the lowest of the low kind of gigs and their all doin’ the bit out on the dance floor…and then one year we did the Maidenhead Golf Club and I thought this would be a bit ‘up market’ but- no – sooner or later some one says (adopts upper class accent) “I say, chappie, can you do that Birdy thing at all?” (Laughs) So you actually keep your sanity that way…
C: (Laughs)…waggling the arms as they say it! It has to be done!...I was quite lucky obviously because The Birdy Song – in Britain – didn’t have any lyrics really, not officially…the song was just an instrumental wasn’t it, even though the crowds…Britain…made up its own lyrics – “a little bit of this, a little bit of that” or whatever it was…um…So – with that in mind, when the band played it at Pontins I wasn’t required. So I would run off the stage as fast as possible (Laughs)…trying to hang on to the last scraps of integrity that I had…and then come back on once they’d finished the piece. But I’d be in the wings – laughing at them. “Ha ha ha. YOU’ve got to play “The Birdy Song!” (Laughs)
V: So, when you were doing those two periods of commercial work, did the material include some stuff that you were happy with…or…?
C: Yeah. When I was working with Dave Meadowcroft Junior, on the boats, with the piano…he was the one who…He introduced me to some new tunes. Also, I introduced HIM to some tunes. He used to play saxophone in a big band in Jersey so he knew most of the big band tunes…but I was picking out tunes like ‘Cry Me a River’ which I was hearing because I was listening to music at the time but I wasn’t listening to standards – to what we call ‘jazz’ singers, I actually got that – the first time I heard that song and fell in live with it was by Crystal Gayle. She recorded it. I didn’t know it was a standard. I had no idea it was a jazz standard, I just thought it was a gorgeous song. So I took that to Dave and said “How do you fancy doing this one?” and he said “Oh yes. I’ve heard about this”. You know…he had heard of it but never actually played it. So we put that one in and then…Billy Joel’s ‘New York State of Mind’. So we had a chance to do some really nice…what we thought were nice songs…hmm what else did we do…Oh! ‘Crazy’ – Patsy Cline, but that was kind of more commercial, pleasing the audience rather than ourselves – but it’s still a nice tune…what else did we do? Oh, and then we did a lot of kinda – the audience pleasing…which I still like…Nice ballads, some Neil Diamond –‘Love On the Rocks, that I’d sing, which is typical ‘piano bar duo’ stuff. Then some jazz tunes like ‘As Time Goes By’ and ‘Cry Me a River’, ‘All Of Me’ and things like that we’d put in. So I guess that was the first time I had a go at singing those songs. But I didn’t at that time understand the concept of a ‘jazz singer’ and what was different about a ‘jazz singer’ to a ‘normal singer’. I still don’t think I’ve truly got it…(Laughs)…but I certainly didn’t then…I didn’t understand when Dave said “You know, you can sing it differently if you want to”. I’d say “What do you mean, ‘sing it differently’?”, ‘cause I’d never heard it. I’d never heard singers pull the tune around and um…improvise with where a melody should go. I’d never heard that at that point. That’s something I’ve only heard about in the last six, seven years.
V: Yeah, mind you, I think that I’m not at all sure that I actually like ‘jazz’ singers…I like singers that are comfortable within the jazz framework. I mean…we’ve talked before about Stacey Kent…
C: Yeah.
V: Stacey Kent isn’t a ‘jazz’ singer…
C: No.
V: …but her timing…
C: She delivers it straight as a die, doesn’t she?
V: Her timing is beautiful…and her phrasing is beautiful…and sits very comfortably – which is what you do – You sing as part of that unit. It’s not a voice on a stick out front. The whole thing fits together…and then out of that comes solos as well, but, er…you know…is a bass player that never takes a solo – for example, Claudia [Claudia Lang Colmer: ex Ivy Benson band and a former member of both my band and Carrie's quartet], is she not a jazz musician?
C: She’s still a jazz musician!
V: Exactly! Because it’s all about imparting that feel!
C: Yeah. And there’s also a very strong part of me that feels that…these songs were written by amazing songwriters, people who…the names that we know! Rogers and Hart, Cole Porter…or Ray Charles – going more recently…and they knew what they were doing when they were writing the melody. They knew what they were doing when they were putting the words – or working with somebody to put the words to it…and it was a serious business to them…and it was like a polished art that they had, and so I sometimes think…”Who the hell am I to think I can make it better?” You know…if I pull a tune around…I sometimes stop and remind myself – if I feel that I want to pull the tune around, why am I doing that? At the moment, the way the musicians are playing it, that’s where it’s leading to naturally – you know? It’s like a teamwork thing. Or is it me wanting to show of my ‘vocal acrobatics’? – which I’m not very good at doing anyway…I do think that ‘vocal acrobatics’ can sometimes take away from what may have been written as a very simple melody on purpose, by these master song writers…
V: Absolutely!
C: …and take away from simple, moving lyrics. That’s why I like the style of music…the lyrics are worth singing. I mean…Stacey Kent…her pronunciation is amazing. You never have to rewind and say “What was that word?” You hear it. You hear every single consonant and there’s no mumbling – and there’s no guessing what’s first…what she’s talking about first…And the lyrics are great…Some of them are cheeky and teasy and they rhyme spectacularly. And I don’t find that from recent music…from today’s music…If they’re a bit scattered, I do…sometimes I think “Ooh! I like that!” The latest one I spotted was a Norah Jones tune called ‘Turn Me On’…and I love the lyrics to that…but I think it was written in the sixties, anyway, by…Loudermilk?
V: John D. Loudermilk?
C: Yeah…so Norah Jones has just done the same as I would and heard a song from way back and thought “Ooh, I’ll do that now.” I’ve heard it and thought “Oh, is that a new one?” and then found it’s not.
V: So. Favourite singers?
C: um…Diana Krall. I like Diana Krall. (Laughs) I LOVE Diana Krall. (Laughs again). Um…Stacey Kent, Ella Fitzgerald…I’m so sorry but I don’t like Billy Holliday. I can absolutely understand that her phrasing and everything is great but, personally…her tone…doesn’t do it for me and singing is very much a personal thing. There’s always part of me that thinks when I get up and do a two hour evening of singing…I always feel sorry for somebody that might be in the audience that – for them – you know, they just don’t like my voice. There’s just something about it…it’s nothing personal. They just don’t like my voice…because there are great singers that I recognise but I say “You know what I think? It just doesn’t please me, you know, the sound. It doesn’t make me feel nice and warm. Um…who else do I like? Well, to be honest – early days – Karen Carpenter – I love the pure, rich tones that she had…I’m trying to think who else…
V: Yes, Karen Carpenter was always considered to be very uncool but she was a superb musician…superb musician…Yep…I can go along with that…
C: Right…and going back to Elvis again. He could pretty much sing anything. If you listen to him singing Gospel and Blues and…OK, there were the sixty-odd films that he made that probably didn’t show his best stuff (Laughs) but he could deliver a ballad and he could also deliver a great gospel thing…and I liked his talent. Of course, there’s that very strong American accent which you can either love or hate…
V: Yeah but at least it was his own accent…(Laughs)…and not as so often you hear – an accent that has just been grafted on – in young singers today. There was a young lass that lived near here whose parents knew I had a recording studio and asked – would I do a demo for her? She came in the studio with her piano player and started singing and I said “Whoa! Where do you live?” and she said “Well…here.” And I said “Where were you born?” and she said “Here” and I said “Well why are you singing like you come from Alabama then?” And it’s because – the songs she learnt…she was learning the noise they made, not actually how to sing…
C: Yeah. I think the difficult thing is…I mean I obviously have quite a typical sort of mid-Atlantic British accent…The difficult thing is that a lot of these ‘American Song Book’ tunes…the rhyming if you sang it…it’s like the old Chris de Burgh ‘romance’ and ‘dance’. I mean we would say ‘romance’ and ‘darnse’, that’s how us Brits would say it. (Laughs) So you would have to say ‘romance’ and ‘dance’, but you soften it off a bit. Otherwise, the rhyme doesn’t work properly…
V: Yes, but you can do that without ‘Americanising’ it…because…after all ‘dance is Northern as well.
C: Yes, that’s true.
V: I mean – ‘barth’ and ‘bath’…
C: (Laughs) Like a Geordie!
V: I mean, my friend Brenda, who comes from Halifax, would say “Would you like a bath or would you prefer a shower?”
C: Is it ‘skon’ or ‘scone’?
V: For me? ‘Skon’.
C: I can’t decide whether it’s ‘skon’ or ‘scone’…Which is the Cornish way?
V: I’ve no idea…but it’s a word that I learned from hearing my mother say it…and my mother was from Edinburgh… (Laughs)
C: Well… (Laughs)…I get confused! That’s one of the few words – I’ll always say ‘barth’ and not ‘bath’ but…I think ‘skon’ and ‘scone’ is one of those that…you know…where it fits in the sentence and what’s coming next. (Laughs)
V: Yes, I mean…I think you do have ‘moveable vowels’ sometimes, especially if you’ve trans-located as you have, from the Midlands to down here…
C: Yeah, that’s roight… (Mimics ‘Brummy’ accent)
V: Well, you’ve covered my next question which was – you know – what about singers outside of the jazz scene…so we’ve done that really…
V: Ah. Well I wanted to mention…um…actually I’d quite like a look at my CD rack, which is getting smaller and smaller because I tend to buy things on ITunes and download them to my IPod…and the CD rack stops growing, so there’s nothing very much tangible there either…um…Claire Martin, I like the sound of. Some of the tunes she chooses are a little bit too obscure for me…but a nice sounding voice though…I can’t think…Ella Fitzgerald –obviously – um…
V: Well, I think we’ve got that one covered really. Something will come to you again when it’s too late…
C: I know…yeah.
V: Now, since you’ve been working in this current…version of yourself, as it were, you’ve been working as a quartet basically. There’ve been a few changes of personnel but the format is basically the same…Is that for purely economic reasons or…well, I suppose if it was economic reasons you’d be working as a trio, wouldn’t you?
C: (Laughs) DUO!
V: Well, yeah! (Laughs) But it’s difficult to do a jazz set-up…I mean it’s so much strain on the pianist, certainly when it comes to the improvisation and so on…but obviously it’s a sound you’re very comfortable with.
C: Yes it is, It’s the nearest I can get to a big band…and we’re talking about economy…a big band is obviously um…you know…dream come true…”Dear Jim, can you please fix it for me to sing with a big band?” Who can afford to run an eighteen piece big band? There are no venues – well, very few that would fit in a big band anyway, so…um…I’ll stick with a four or five piece. And that’s the nearest I can get.
V: And when you’re working out material and arranging…is that a collaborative thing, or are you leading the charge there?
C: I’ve started leading it. Yes, thanks to…well…Now I’ve got a better understanding of all of that and I play a bit of piano myself…I’m writing the charts for the guys. Um…There was a tune recently that I thought would work well if the verse was in Latin and then went into a swing for the chorus…um…we haven’t done it many times actually (Laughs) just because we don’t get too many chances to rehearse…and when you’ve got things like going from a Latin into a swing, you’ve got to be tight to sound good. But – I liked it. It worked, and that was an idea of mine. Often I’ll hear arrangements of other people and I think “Yeah that sounds quite nice done like that, so we’ll do it that way, so I tend to…well, it’s a bit of a dictatorship! (Laughs) They can do what they want within their solos, but when it comes to the tempo it’s set at and the arrangement and the style we do it in, it’s kind of…I put some force into that. I’ve got an idea of how I want the band to sound. We’re a small swing band and I want to try and stay true to that without going too much outside, even though sometimes I’m sure the guys would like to branch out from there…but…they have other opportunities to do that… (Laughs)
V: Absolutely!
C: NOT ON MY WATCH!!!(Laughs)
V: I mean – that’s what being a professional musician is all about isn’t it? When you’re getting the work and fronting the unit, you call the…What’s that phrase? ”He who pays the piper…”
C: It’s taken me quite a few years to find what I think is my niche…and it’s not so much a matter of sitting in your comfort zone, it’s more a matter of – “I’m going to stick to what I think I can do well. What I think I can do justice to. So that’s why the format has stayed the same, no matter who’s behind me, who’s working alongside me…
V: Well, in some ways that’s as it should be really. You would expect to have a different character to the soloing, but the ensemble sound is very much under your control. It’s there for you.
C: Yes. There is…an underground change…for instance, Tom Quirk [pianist - former member of Carrie's band]; he’s very edgy, modern style piano playing…um…modern jazz…and when we’re playing the standards and the swing tunes, that would still come through - just in the voicings he would use on the introductions…exactly the same introductions but he’d add some more edgy voicings to the chords and it would add a …adding a touch of chilli to a recipe…It wouldn’t be there if someone else made the recipe…but you’re still making Shepherd’s Pie. (Laughs)
V: Again, that’s as it should be really, because if it was – this is it and that’s all there is to it – then there wouldn’t be any of that interaction between all of you, which is what making jazz is all about.
C: Right. It would just be reading dots then, wouldn’t it, as opposed to improvising and putting there own slant on things
V: OK. Granting a Wish Time. For one night only you can hire anybody in the world to accompany your Festival Hall debut! So, who do I need to contact for you?
C: (Laughs) Have they got to be alive?
V: No, I have the power to resurrect where appropriate – for one night only!
C: (Laughs) Well! It would be quite nice to get Nelson Riddle to do an arrangement for a big band. That would be quite cool…um…with my voice in mind. That would be rather nice…Probably someone like Oscar Peterson on piano, um…I do like Scott Hamilton…er…I know they’ve worked with Diana Krall and I like their style. So, Jeff Hamilton and – Who’s that bass player that she works with? Um…You can put it in later! I can’t really think who else. I guess I’d rely on Oscar Peterson to choose a nice band. I think I could trust his judgment! (Laughs) Um… and I’d like to sing a duet with Frank actually…it would have to be a slow ballad with us both sitting down on stools because I would tower above him and I don’t think he’d like that! (Laughs) But I’ve never really thought about that…your fantasy gig. Festival Hall. Who would it be? Yeah, well it would definitely be big band with – yeah – I wouldn’t mind singing a duet with Frank Sinatra…
V: With Nelson Riddle arrangements and a big band under the control of Oscar Peterson.
C: Yeah. Something like that.
V: OK. I’ll get to work on it…
C: Give me plenty of advance warning because my diary’s quite busy…can’t make the 22nd October!
V: Fine! If you were able to transfer all of your musical skills to one instrument, what would it be?
C: Piano.
V: OK. That’s logical. Short but sweet, that question…And your ultimate musical ambition?
C: (Long pause…Big sigh!) I don’t really have any…you know, I’ve no desire for fame or anything…never really have. I just like singing…and I like singing these songs…that’s about all it boils down to…
V: But if you could make a full time living…for example…would you go in that direction?
C: Yeah. I mean anyone who loves music and loves what they do…
V: Well, the concomitant of it as you well know – I mean – it’s hard enough schlepping around Cornwall. If you’re schlepping around the country…constantly touring…
C: Yeah…I wouldn’t want to be constantly touring at all. If I could make enough money to live a moderate life-style. Not big houses and big cars but just pay the bills and stay in Cornwall…
V: Yeah, well you chose the wrong thing to do for that anyway! (Laughs)
C: (Laughs) Yeah. I know! But it would be quite nice to go into a large HMV, you know, the sort that has a big stock, and be able to look at the back of one of the sections – I don’t know whether I’d fall under jazz…or probably…easy listening, knowing my luck…but just see – “Ooh! They have got my CD in. I wouldn’t expect them to have loads, but just to be able to…that’s almost a way of saying; you know, “You’re respected for your contribution”. Someone has liked it enough to market it and put it out there. And if it’s in a large outlet – I’m not talking about Lidls – (Laughs), the big ones that have lots of stock of all sorts of people... (Laughs)…yeah, that would be nice. So if I could make some money by recording and then maybe say do one tour a year – one UK tour, wouldn’t mind that!
V: Sounds good to me. All right then, finally we come to the Desert Island. I have a desert island and I’m going to cast you away on it, but my rules are a bit harder. You can only have two records.
C: Albums…two albums, right?
V: I just said ‘records’ so you can interpret that as you wish. Me, for example – I would definitely be trying to smuggle in a boxed set or a double album…well, it comes as one package. You can buy it all together…Anyway, that’s it. Two records, given those definitions. Only one of those can be from the jazz area. The other one has to be from somewhere else. What would they be? And remember – you’ve got to live with these.
C: You know what…? You know what? - It’s just struck me. Ask me this another day and it would never occur to me…From the jazz side – quite easy - A Night in Paris. Diana Krall. Lovely. I love every single track on that album…and that would satisfy me. Lovely…and…I’m just trying to think of something else that you’d never get bored of…um…and there’s a musical called City of Angels. Have you heard of it? It’s amazing, kind of Manhattan Transfer stylee…er…just so many complex tunes and different styles and different time signatures. Very clever lyrics all the way through it…
V: Do we know who it’s by?
C: I don’t. I should do. I really should have paid attention because it’s astounding. It did get on Broadway but never came over to this country. It went on Broadway and the soundtrack was highly…acclaimed…no…not the soundtrack – the musical itself. Apparently, the way it was presented on stage was too complex…the story line…it’s quite an interesting story line…anyway, because it’s so…you know, a lot of musicals have that…I don’t know – it’s also got a big band, jazzy feel about it. Not unlike the Chicago musical style. But, yes – I think I would choose that one. I haven’t heard it for ages!
V: OK. I think we’re done!
Carrie's Live Space is at http://carriemannjazz.spaces.live.com/default.aspx
Carrie is appearing at The Foundry Bar, Hayle on October 22nd and Tregony Village Hall on 24th October.
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