Newport Jazz Festival 2024

Before this year's Newport Jazz Festival, I was bemoaning to my host/acro partner/concert buddy about my concerns about this year's booking, after last year I thought  the festival leaned too heavily on jam band acts and less on (whatever the word means) "jazz".  And they asked me "so who do you think shouldn't be there", which was a useful frame as I made my notes.  The answer, thankfully, was a lot less  acts than I expected, and that meant that while there were the inevitable letdowns and far too frequent technical issues, this was a strong festival, showcasing a broad range of whatever the word "jazz" might mean right now.  

Caveat 1- I didn't get to everything, especially the late day sets, so if it's not here it's because I didn't see it (or barely saw it) and won't comment.   And I did take some photos this year, but I'm at best a hack photographer.  I hope they help convey some sense of the vibe.

Caveat 2- There's an anecdote (one of many) about Benny Goodman's first Carnegie Hall concert in 1938.  The NY Times sent their classical critic, who unsuprisingly panned it in very bitter terms.  The moral of the story is not that the Goodman band played a bad show, it's that the Times sent the wrong critic.  I think there were a few acts for whom I'm the wrong critic, and I'll try to be up front about that.  

Also, I didn't catch every band's personnel, so forgive any typos, and please leave comments or e-mails if you catch errors.  

I was just able to get through the security line (more on that at the end) in time to see Luke Stewart, the festival opener.  (Artistic director and bassist extraordinaire Christian McBride had an unusually high number of acts with bass players as leaders.  Hmmm...)  I wasn't familiar with Stewart beyond his NY Times profile, so I didn't know what to expect, except that by current Newport standards it may be a little "out".  It was- after opening with a striking bowed solo, his trio with tenor saxophonist Brian Settles and drummer Warren Trey Crode powered through a set that felt like a primer on the history of the black "avant-garde"- a rubato, Coltrane-esque melody, a 7/4 groove that harkened to Julius Hemphill, and an angular melody that conjured Henry Threadgill.  All of the music felt very lived-in (a theme of the weekend); clearly this is music the band has developed together very deliberately.  Settles was a revelation- he has a huge crystalline sound, and navigated the music fearlessly and intelligently.

I caught the tale end of Cisco Swank's set- I'd describe it as very happy fusion- catchy themes, bright tempos, major keys, and a super chopsy drummer.  I think I dug it.

Anessa Strings (yes, that's her stage name)- see below.

The trumpeter formerly known as Christian Scott is now Chief Adjuah, leaning heavily on his New Orleans tribe/crew identity.  To that end, he isn't playing trumpet these days, instead holding center stage with what I'd describe as an oversized mbira (thumb piano- please correct me) and singing.  As with other sets I've heard him play over the years, it was built on heavy grooves and intense emotionality.  I think I dug it.   

The first and only big band of the festival (grr...) was the legendary Sun Ra Intergalactic Arkestra, led by 100 year old alto saxophonist Marshall Allen, who sadly didn't make it to the stage today.  When I was a kid there was one jazz DJ in Boston who used to play one Arkestra tune every other week, and it was really, really weird and made no sense to me.   But now that I've dug into his catalog a little more (though I'm no expert), I think Ra's big band music basically splits into two categories.  One is the "weird" tunes, usually vamp-based tunes with intergalactic lyrics, lots of synthesizers and a crazy free-jazz vibe.  The others are pretty straight up 30s-style swing charts, where there is always one more thing happening in the chart than Fletcher Henderson or Count Basie would ever approve of, which makes it feel off kilter and weird (generally in a good way).  It also helps that the band has always had, and still has, great soloists who live on the "out" side of the equation- original Ra tenorist John Gilmore was apparently a substantial influence on later Coltrane.  And all of the above was at play in this set- it was high energy music with more than a little chaos, and a lot of fun.

Unfortunately, the band suffered from a terrible sound mix- I'm told that by the stage you couldn't hear the guitar at all, but where I was standing fifty yards away that's all you could hear.  Soloists would get picked up halfway through their solos, vocals were inaudible, etc.  Now admittedly, the Arkestra is a hard band to get right as a sound engineer due in no small part to the chaos that is their music, but this was really hard to handle, and severely impacted the quality of the set.  (this is another theme...)   

There were a handful of acts I was very excited to see, and the Bill Frisell Four (Frisell, Greg Tardy on reeds, Gerald Clayton on piano and Jonathan Blake on drums) was one of them.  It's an unusual instrumentation, with two "comping" instruments and no bass, and I found their Blue Note release a little uneven.  And the opener, a blues, was indeed uneven- brilliant moments mixed with messy negotiations.  The set improved as it continued, featuring Frisell mainstay "Monroe", a lovely take on Strayhorn's "Isfahan", and a closer that I've heard Frisell play several times, and still and not sure if it's his or Monk's.  The closer especially sparkled, with Blake absolutely on fire.  

I caught a few minutes of Galactic with guest vocalist Irma Thomas- great New Orleans party music.  

Next on the main stage was fusion wonderboy (now man, I guess) Cory Wong.  His band- five or six horns and a rhythm section- were all wearing these brown one-piece uniforms that looked a little like prison gear.  And the set felt unduly caged in by the conventions of the kind of athletic fusion Wong has built his career on- it was mostly fast, technically impressive, and emotionally lacking.  The exception was when Wong brought out Jeff Coffin, saxophonist with Bela Fleck and Dave Matthews, and probably the best commercial saxophonist working right now.  (and I say that with the utmost respect and zero shade- I've also heard him tear it up in free jazz contexts)  His solo with Wong was beyond brilliant, and the highlight of an otherwise cotton candy set.  

According to Christian McBride, slam poet and community organizer Aja Monet is the first spoken word artist to lead a group at Newport since Langston Hughes in 1960.  Her band was also plagued with technical issues- the saxophonist was miked in a way that made him sound like he was playing from a mile away, which worked for some of the playing behind her poems, but made him inaudible when he soloed.  As for Monet, when it comes to slam poetry I'm the wrong critic. (The same goes for Noname, who led a set on Sunday) 

I had another obligation Friday night, so I missed the rest of the acts.  I heard, unsurprisingly, that Kenny Barron was fantastic.  

Saturday morning I was hung up in line despite trying to get there early (see footnote), so I only caught the tail end of trumpeter Riley Mulherker's set.  I caught the end of a radical take on a Black American spiritual with a singer, where Riley was creating wild soundscapes behind her straight and powerful rendition of the song, followed by an abstracted, processed take on Gershwin's "Here Come da Honeyman".   He has a powerful, versatile tone, able to project chaos in one moment and majesty in the next.  He closed with a beautiful duet version of "Stardust", dedicate to his daughter on her 2nd birthday.  It was a masterful set. 

I popped over to another prolific trumpeter, Theo Crocker, who I learned only this weekend is the legendary Doc Cheatham's grandson.  Crocker's set was heavy fusion, with a rhythmic tapestry of drums, bass and electronics that was fascinating and propulsive.  That was the best thing about the set- the playing and the tunes were much less memorable.  

I'd not heard vocalist Nicole Zuraitis before, but I was aware of her, as she seems to be the top call big band vocalist in New York right now.  She showed why- she opened with a tune called "You're only Crazy in the Good Ways" ("a backhanded complement", she said)  My complements of her singing are anything but backhanded- all her melodic choices were excellent, her scatting is elite, and her piano playing is more than solid.  (though the piano was too hot in the mix).  She followed that tune with a setting of Edna St. Vincent Milay called "Travels".  The tune was much more in a pop songwriter vein, but she was equally as confident there, and the band was really, really tight.  

This three hour stretch on Saturday was the best/worst I can remember, in terms of wanting to hear everything that was happening at the same time.  One casualty for me was "Golden, Brown and Delicious", a trio of guitarist Mark Whitfield Sr., bassist Robert Hurst and drummer Jeff "Tain" Watts.  For younger readers, Hurst and Watts are possibly THE most important rhythm section o fthe 1980s, first with Wynton then with Branford Marsalis.  (See Ethan Iverson's interview with Wynton if you want the details)  I remember Whitfield as the quintessential "young lion", so to see him playing in a white tank top with two tattoo sleeves was a little disconcerting.  But he sounds as good or better than he did then, and hearing Watts and Hurst lay it down, stretch it out and occasionally flip it into another dimension was a treat.  

I only left this delight to hear another, a Wayne Shorter tribute set featuring former Wayne bandmates Danielo Perez and John Patatucci, augmented by drummer Terri Lynn Carrington and saxophonist Ravi Coltrane.  (despite his last name, Ravi came up in a crew of musicians at CalArts, including pianist James Carney, trumpeter Ralph Alessi, and bassist Scott Colley, among others- who were obsessed with Wayne.  So this is a good fit.)  The band reminded me of the early iteration of the last great Wayne quartet (with Perez, Patatucci and Brian Blade) who were mostly deconstructing some of Wayne's canonical gems.  I walked into a reimagining of "Infant Eyes", and covers of "Miyako" and one of the other staples ofieter- but not as "without a net" (Wayne's term) as his last quartet came to embrace.  The result was uneven- when the band settled into different grooves it was spectacular, especially in the interplay between Perez and Coltrane, but when they were dealing the tunes themselves it was more uneven.  That said, it was a very satisfying set, and I'm sure Wayne would approve.  

Overshadowed by this group was Jonathan Blake's Pentad, an all star group featuring Dezron Douglas on bass, David Varellis on piano, Joel Ross on bass and Immanuel Wilkins on saxophones.  It was a fantastic set of what I think Blake would call "Black Art Music"- tunes that embrace all of black improvised music of the last 50 years, from Blakey to Coltrane to Threadgill to...  When Joel Ross was playing a solo, everything seemed to dance once more, and on one tune Wilkins came in on soprano after Ross like a whirling dervish, sending the energy yet another level.  As I've said before, Jonathan Blake is a national treasure, and should be treated as such.

I shifted back over to the main stage for Artemis, Blue Note's female supergroup.  (And yes, I feel icky writing that.)  Full disclosure- I consider their drummer Allison Miller a good friend, and she was the drummer on my last record, so I am biased towards them.  That said, I heard an amazing set- it was mostly music from their second album, plus a refracted cover of Bacharach's "What the World Needs Now" and pianist Renee Rosnes' spectacular reimagining of Wayne's "Footprints".  The band was tight, the solos were exceptional, the energy was captivating.  A friend and her partner were there exclusively on my goading, and they grabbed me afterwards to say how much they loved it.  

Former Artemis member Anat Cohen was playing at the same time on a smaller stage with her Quartetino.  I didn't catch much of the set, but what I did hear was brilliant.  Anat does things on the clarinet that maybe two or three people on the planet can do, and the music was warm and clever and exciting.  The last tune I heard was her reimagining of Monk's "Trinkle Tinkle"; the arrangement was a little too cute for my ears, but maybe I'm quibbling...

I left Anat to hear Terrace Martin, the saxophonist/producer/wonderkind who works with everyone from Herbie Hancock to Kendrick Lamar.  The band had serious Headhunters vibes, with anthemic themes, odd meters and brilliant solos across the board.  I was all the way in... until Martin shifted to vocorder.  There are a very few things I hold in real contempt in my life, but they include the New York Yankees, Donald Trump, and the vocorder.  That said, up until then I thought it was great, and a lot of people I really respect loved the set...

I sprinted from the vocorder to the set of an actually stupendous vocalist, Grammy-winner Samara Joy.  In last year's review, I asked where Joy would go after her meteoric success, comparing her to Cecile McLoren Salvant and Jazzmia Horn.  And in one way that's not fair- Joy is only 23, and I imagine still trying to figure out how to ride her meteoric rise.  But her current answer is to go all in on being a capital J Jazz singer, with a new band with four horns playing excellent, intricate arrangements, and brilliant virtuosic singing.  Her set included jazz standards, an obscure but wonderful setting of Monk's "San Francisco Holiday", her now signature piece "Guess Who I Saw Today My Dear", and a Sun Ra influenced original.  The band is tight, and I have to keep reminding myself that Joy, as brilliant as she is, is only 23, so hopefully there are many great things ahead from her.    

I caught a little of Ghost Note, the relatively new project from the founders of Snarky Puppy.  For a band named after a musical device that obscures the number of notes played, they played a hell of a lot of notes.  To my ears, this band is a successor to 70s pop/fusion icons Tower of Power- brilliant technicians, high intensity playing, but not really that funky.  I wasn't sold.  

I was running out of steam, but I wanted to catch a little of "Acid Jazz is Dead", a DJ project of members of A Tribe Called Quest.  Last year, they presented as "Jazz is Dead", with the two DJs teaming up with saxophone legend Gary Bartz and others to present a fascinating hybrid set of live and recorder music, which I am still kicking myself for missing.  But this year, it was just those two DJs, trying to get the crowd to dance.  Which, in another setting, I guess is cool.  But this is the Newport Jazz Festival, the most iconic festival in the world (I think), which sold out months in advance.  Can't we do a little better than a couple of middle aged dudes spinning records, no matter how cool those dudes or those records are?  I was pretty disgusted that this took a spot that could have highlighted, you know, a few of the incredible live musicians whose careers could be catapulted by this festival.  But I digress...

Finally for Saturday, I was really psyched to see Elvis Costello- he is full stop one of the great songwriters of his generation, and a musical omnivore.  And to the question I posed at the beginning of the post (one he asked rhetorically onstage), he should absolutely be at Newport.  He writes smart, sophisticated songs, he's collaborated with the Mingus Big Band, Ray Brown, Chet Baker, and, and... In terms of creating a set for the Newport Jazz Festival, he did not disappoint- he opened with his hit "Watching the Detectives", but then shifted to a bunch of deep cuts, including two songs from his (underrated) album with The Roots, his gut-wrentching collaboration with Burt Bacharach "I Still Have that Other Girl in My Head", and his little know but powerful antiwar ballad "Shipbuilding".  And he brought a brilliant band that checked any possible jazz boxes, including Colbert bassist Adena Owens and now legendary saxophonist Donny McCaslin.

And all that said... the set was just not good.  There were three main problems.  One, once again the sound was a mess- at times Costello was inaudible, at others he was overwhelming.  It was clear that the band on stage did not have a good mix.  This isn't  their fault, but it cast a pall on the set. Two, the music was clearly underprepared, though Costello said that they'd done a full day of rehearsals in Cambridge the day before the gig.  There were just too many moments where Elvis was cuing a band that didn't expect the cure, or Adena and Donny were staring at each other trying to fill in some gap.  (And to be clear, I'm not blaming them, I'm blaming the circumstances)  It didn't help that Elvis chose to have a DJ instead of a drummer.  He was effective on some of the tunes, but on others he was just laying out in moments where a smart human drummer could absolutely have salvaged some things.  That was a real head scratcher.

And third, at this moment Elvis Costello is not in full voice.  This was an ambitious program, and he simply couldn't execute it.  There were many moments where he went for a note and just missed it badly. To call his pitch uneven is being kind.  Folks more in the know than me said that he's still recovering from a run of serious health conditions, and I wish him all the best in his recovery.  Because if he keeps sounding like he did on Saturday, there is a very painful reckoning coming.  To call this set disappointing is a sad understatement.  

At this point I was exhausted and sunburnt, so I left.  Anyone who heard the Dinner Party set, please leave your opinions below.  As long as they are coherent and not vulgar, I promise to highlight them... 

Sunday morning I left early enough to (barely) make The Mezzthetics, a guitar trio featuring two thirds of the punk band Fugazi, and saxophonist James Brandon Lewis.  Unsurprisingly, the band had a hard edged, punky sound, reminiscent of some of the noisy 80s guitar trios like Power Tools.  The tunes were varied, sometimes anthemic, sometimes twisty.  On top of this Lewis was towering force, alternating sheets of sound and shreeks that called back Albert Ayler.  

From there I ducked over to catch polymath Kassa Overall, who had a quartet featuring pianist Matt Wong and saxophoninst/percussionist/dervish Tomoki Sanders (child of Pharoah).  The set was largely percussion driven, with Overall, Sanders and a third percussionist creating thick, dense grooved, punctuated by an instrumental solo or Overall rapping, and ending (or the part I heard) with a crowd sing-a-long.  The set was tremendously exciting and engaging, and everything Overall does bears watching.

Across the way was 21 year old wunderkind pianist Julius Rodriguez and his quintet.  This was a 21st century "Young Lions" band- thirty-five years ago, this band would've been in suits channeling Art Blakey; now they are in very trendy streetwear channeling Robert Glasper.  Everyone in the band can play, a lot, but like a lot of those young bands I heard in my youth, it feels like they are still feeling out what it is they want to be.  (And this is not a damning criticism, I'm nearly 50 and still feel that way often.)  The last tune, dedicated to the recently passed Shaun Martin, was a party tune with the drummer playing a 5/4 tamborine pattern and a shifting bass vamp.  It felt great.  

Once upon a time now artistic director Christian McBride was part of another young lions superband with the likes of Roy Hargrove, so for the festival's 70th anniversary he convened a new all-star group.  This band looked very different- it was half female, including bassist Adeena Strings and drummer Savannah Harris, with a guest appearance by vocalist Jazzmia Horn.  I only caught Horn's portion of the set, which juxtoposed two standards- Monk's "Evidence" (with awful lyrics) and "Perdido", with Abbey Lincoln inspirational deep cut "Long as You're Living".  Horn owned the stage when she sang, perhaps occasionally oversinging, and then sharing it with the horns on "Perdido".  Everyone sounded great (though there were issues with saxophonist Braxton Cook's mic), but the standout was flutist Elena Pinderhughes- everything she played felt really amazing.  

Next up on the main stage was Meshell N'Degeocello, fresh off of a glowing NY Times piece and the release of her new album No More Water: The Gospel of James Baldwin.  And with the exception of the encore "Virgo", the whole set was drawn from that record.  The set was breathtaking- nothing overtly virtuosic, just intense grooves (Meshell, wearing a t-shirt saying "Meshell N'Degeocello is a Band", clearly owned that idea, playing bass for 90% of the set, sometimes leaving the front of the stage to sit with the drummer) and a purposefulness that stood out above almost every other thing I heard.  I'd encourage you to check out her recent Tiny Desk- not quite the same, but pretty amazing.  

There were a handful of acts, notably the aforementioned Aneesa Strings and Alex Isley (yes, that Isley), who had what I'd describe as jazz-adjacent singer-songwriter sets.  Good bands, songs about love and heartbreak, lots of melismas.  I jokingly called it the "Quiet Storm" portion of the festival.  Definitely not my jams.  

I don't want to end on an extended down note, but let me briefly say the last two sets, Laufey and Robert Glasper were letdowns.  I've written at some length about Laufey before, and she did nothing to change my mind.  She did have live strings on this set (though obviously augmented by synths), which added some heft to the sound of the band.  She ran through some of her hits, leaning heavily on the heartbreak ballads.  She is a good singer, but after following the likes of Nicole Zaritis and Samara Joy she paled by comparison. 

 

I've seen Glasper before, but I don't think I've seen him as a leader, so I didn't know what to expect.  I thought he mailed it in- the band noodled on snippets of "Gonna Be Alright", and Ms. Horn came out again and riffed on Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood" without ever singing the whole tune.  The set lacked any sense of direction. Especially at a stage as big and storied as Newport, I expected much more.  

(A friend just told me that Christian McBride's "Jam Jawn" this year was excellent- sorry I missed it!)

Two other quibbles- I can't prove this, but it felt like they upped the crowd capacity this year, which made almost everything feel crowded, and made all the lines longer.  This inconvenience was compounded by the fact that security at the gates did checks on people and bags that were more thorough and invasive than any TSA search I've had in the last ten years.  I don't want to make too much light of security issues, especially given the state of the world, but was there a threat made on Nils Rogers or Kamasi Washington that everyone had to stand in line for an extra half hour or more?  I hope next year they will either up the number of security checkpoints, or tell the guards to chill the hell out, or both.  

More important to the music, there were too many problems with the sound, especially on the main stage.  The Sun Ra Arkestra, Elvis Costello, Braxton Cook and even the beginning of Meshell's set had issues.  There were also smaller issues on the other stages that I noted above.  In general, the sound on more conventional setups- Samara Joy, Artemis, etc- sounded amazing, but any curve ball seemed to mess with the sound engineering.  I hope they can do better- these artists deserve that.  

Back to my friend's question, who shouldn't have been here?  I don't know- I could've used one less of the "quiet storm" singers, and I understand that to pay the bills it need acts like Laufey and Nils Rogers (who I missed- I chose to beat the traffic)- but for the most part the festival presented a strong cross-section of what's happening in the music today, and almost everyone really brought it.  I still wish Christian would take a few more chances and book a few more up and coming and "weird" acts- Caroline Davis immediately springs to mind, with the really interesting stuff she's been doing lately.  I also wish he'd keep the late George Wien's tradition of featuring more big bands (especially with the explosion of interesting young and not so young  bandleaders in and out of New York- Miho Hazama, David Sanford, Jihey Lee, Ayn Inserto, and so on), and at least one "trad" unit.  That said, there was a lot of great music, and a great time.  

A theory on Laufey

 Against my better judgement, I'm currently writing a big band arrangement of "Dreamer", the opening track on jazz-pop Laufey's breakout album Bewitched.  As I posted here a few years ago, I saw Laufey at Newport a couple of years back, and was, well, underwhelmed.  But a lot of my students are obsessed with her- in our top band, there are more Laufey sweatshirts, on boys and girls alike, then Taylor Swift, Nirvana, and (name your pop act) combined.  And I didn't quite get it.  Much has been made of Ms. Laufey- I think my favorite take is Adam Neely's youtube analysis.  And I think Adam does a great job getting to the "what" of Laufey, and why it pisses jazz musicians like me off- but it doesn't get to the why.  Why did this particular artist break through with this particular throwback sound?  

In writing this arrangement, obviously, I'm listening to Laufey more and more carefully than I have before.  First the production is very slick.  Her singing is gorgeous and intimate, like it's a crystal vase.  And there's a lot of distant panned backgrounds, the gauzy sonic equivalent of the first couple of episodes of Wandavision.  (Which if you haven't seen it, please go see it, it's amazing.)  

It's taking me back to my teenage years, when I first fell in love with jazz singing when Shirley Horn released her first two albums on Verve in more than twenty years, You Won't Forget Me and Here's to Life.  The second is more relevant here, as it's an album pairing Horn's amazing trio with a string orchestra on a collection of not too famous American, definitely retro songbook tunes, including "Wild is the Wind", "Here's to Life", "Estate", and probably the best known "A Time for Love".  These are big songs about passion and love and loss- if "Where do You Start" doesn't tear your guts out, I question if you have any guts.  

I know now that (I didn't then) that when you're a teenager, because of biology and hormones and all the rest, you feel things much more acutely than I do as a nearly 50 year old man.  I could have a breakup now where someone figuratively and literally stomps on my heart and takes my money, and it likely wouldn't hurt as much as when my junior year sweetheart dumped me the first day of band camp.  (I'm not rooting for the former, or trying to turn that person into a villain- she's a lovely person, and we made up when she went to college-it's just what it is).  So Here's to Life was not just a lovely record (and it's a gorgeous record), it was, as the kids say now, giving me all the feels.  And the fact that said on again-off again girlfriend junior year loved it too (Shirley Horn was our Valentine's Day present to each other) made it that much more intense.  

There's one other thing I noticed in the production.  When I listen to a lot of top 40 music today, whether it's Morgan Wallen or 21 Savage or Olivia Rodrigo (and this is not a judgement on the quality of the music, just the production choices), the production is very up front and aggressive. (I know there's better technical language, it's just escaping me)  It's built to jump out of car speakers and earbuds and demand your attention (this is not new in pop music.  See the Jackson Five's "ABC" or Bon Jovi's "Livin' on Prayer", or Beastie Boys "You've Got to Fight..."  or, or...)  Laufey, on the other hand, favors a more opaque approach.  Listen to the piano interlude at the beginning of "Dreamer"- it's mixed to sound like it's coming from a quarter mile away. In general, her music is mixed and panned to sound gauzy, like you are listening through a veil.  This gives it an ethereal, dreamy quality that not a lot of current pop music has, and again, I think, contributes giving my students all the feels.

And as I listen to Bewtiched with a more analytical ear, I had a sort of "aha" moment.  While I don't think Bewitched is anywhere near the level of Here's to Life, it's a well written, well constructed album.  And Laufey is very smart, and her very clever lyrics speak to all the joys, all the anxieties, "all the feels" that Shirley Horn spoke to when I was seventeen.  (Though I don't think Horn, who never really had to deal with the internet, could've processed hookup culture and ghosting the way Laufey does.)  It doesn't change my opinion of Laufey- I think she's really good at what she does. I just wish Samara Joy or Cecile McLauren Salvant or even Veronica Swift could live in my kids ears half as much as she does, since that all sing rings around her and have so more to say about the human condition. BUT I think I get her a little more now.  Thoughts?

Newport Jazz Festival 2023

 Newport ‘23 notes

I was fortunate to be back at the Newport Jazz Festival for, I think, the eleventh time.  (I may be off by one or two.)  And, as I’ve been doing for the last few years, I took notes.  

The festival opened this year with the Lauren Sevian Quartet, featuring Jonathan Blake on drums.  I consider Lauren a friend, and she has worked with my students on multiple occasions, so I’ll say only that it was a fun, high energy post-bop set.  And that Jonathan Blake is a national treasure, and we should treat him as such.

The next act up on the Quad (second largest) stage was alto phenomenon Immanuel Wilkins and his quartet.  I only saw half the set, and now (see below) I wish I had stayed for the whole thing.  One of the pleasures of the festival this year was seeing a few bands that are really bands, the kind that play 100+ dates a year, the kind that are much harder to sustain than they were in the days when Miles, Trane, Bill Evans, etc were constantly on tour.  This band was to my ears the best of that excellent bunch- the music took these organic twists and turns through themes and metric modulations and shifts in mood.  And Wilkens is just a monster saxophonist (see this recent video where he talks about practicing).  He has ferocious, wailing energy, but it is never out of control.  

I missed some of Immanuel’s set to see the other alto phenom of the day (unfortunately, as is too often the case, scheduled at the same time) Lakecia Benjamin, and her Phoenix quartet, featuring the great drummer E.J. Strickland and old friend (and badass) pianist Zachai Curtis.  Her music combines a strong post-Coltrane energy (she did recently do a tribute album) with an instinct to play to the crowd- “on a whim”, she spun off a medley of “My Favorite Things”, Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints” and “Wade in the Water”. Benjamin has formidable chops, and projects a ferocious energy that reminds me of a strong Kenny Garrett set. But she also projects a kind of narcissism in her crowd banter that I found really off-putting- she talked at length about how she likes to see herself on the socials when she could’ve been playing.  For me, it was a bad look.

Based on some streaming listening in preparation for the festival, I was very interested to hear clarinetist, composer and conceptual artist Angel Bat Dawid’s group.  The recorded music was very interesting, and the critical plaudits are as long as my arm.  After a very long sound check, the music I heard was hugely disappointing.  A makeshift altar in the middle of the stage had two clarinets on it, but in the 20 minutes of the set I saw they sat unplayed. The music alternated between shrieking free chaos and two chord vamps.  On a pause Dawid name checked Sun Ra, which made a lot of sense, but didn’t make it any better.  She clearly has done some interesting and exciting work, but this set was a mess- very little shape or contour, and a whole lot of noise.  There just wasn’t enough there there.  

I took a walk across the way to Butcher Brown, which I’d describe as a soul-jam band with a really tight rhythm section.  Again, clearly a band that plays a ton together, and knows the music inside out.  The crowd seemed to really dig it. I thought it was fine.  

After Dawid cleared, bassist Derick Hodge, best known for his work with Robert Glaspar, took over the Harbor stage.  He unleashed a set of anthemic fusion- big grand accessible themes, with enough twists and turns to impress peers, and enough grooves and hooks to keep a big audience.  The set ranged from the over the top- a cover of Wayne Shorter’s “Fall” where the last four bars of each chorus was a hurricane of sound, to the sublime- a tremendously sympathetic, lovely duet between Hodge and his guitarist. Overall, an interesting and satisfying set.  

Again, across the way on the quad stage was Big Freedia, whose press described them as a queer performer doing new and interesting things at the line between New Orleans music and hip-hop.  I hadn’t read this yet, so I walked in with no expectations whatsoever.  And in the first minute, behind grungy guitars and a hard-edged backbeat, Big Freedia was telling me to, er, consume a delicate piece of human anatomy.  The stage presentation felt like a Lizzo stage show with a more explicit LGBTQ slant*.   I’m told there was also a crowd participation ass-shaking contest on stage later in the set after I bounced.

Look, I’m no prude- there were a couple of other F-bombs thrown at other sets that didn’t bother me- and I do think there needs to be more and better LGBTQ representation in spaces like Newport (see my end notes on programming).  But I also think it’s a family show, and if I’d wandered into that set with my four year old kid, I’d be pissed, and I think rightfully so.  This was vulgar, and I don’t think it was appropriate to the event.  And moreover, to my ears it wasn’t very good- the music combined elements of the harder edges of P-Funk with the rock sensibility of Living Colour with some of the basest vernacular of current hip-hop.  Maybe I didn’t listen carefully enough, but I missed the New Orleans part, and the innovative part.  There wasn’t one memorable solo.  Every year for the past four festivals or so there are one or two acts where I find myself saying “why the hell did they get booked” over ten bands I think are more deserving, and this year Big Freedia was at the top of that list, number one with a bullet.  Moving on…

Soullive is a very good jam band, who jam very well.  And were blown out of the water by some of the jam bands that followed them later Friday and then on Saturday.   Branford Marsalis sat in, and played a memorable solo, which is more than I can say for everyone else.

Durand Jones is a sort of retro roots/rock singer in the vein of the late Amy Weinhouse or Eli “Paperboy” Reid.  He combined that with a stage presence that was part Al Green, part Morris Day.  It was very well done, just not my thing.  

This was the second time I saw the young phenom duo of Domi and JD Beck.  And they were better than the last time I saw them- the music was a technical whirlwind,, but also a little more mature, a little less bratty.  Their talent reminds me of Jacob Collier, but without his deep respect for the music he is mining. The music still feels slick and empty, and the presentation is still pretty juvenile, complete with poop jokes.  That said, they are still very young, they are incredibly talented, and I hope we see more interesting music from them- they are capable.  

Branford Marsalis and his quartet were last minute replacements for Kamasi Washington, and I for one was delighted for the change- in addition to the fact that Branford is remarkable, I didn’t need one more ear-splitting set.  Branford is also notoriously… ornery, and it felt to me like he had been listening to what was going on before he took the stage, and thought “enough BS, let’s go.”  His quartet (with a sub bass player) came out firing with Joey Calderazzo’s “The Mighty Sword” and Keith Jarrett’s “Long as You Know You’re Living Yours”.  The music was listener friendly enough to keep the crowd engaged, but virtuosic and interactive enough to delight all the jazz nerds and let Branford make his point.  Calderazzo was particularly brilliant, and the ferocity and brilliance of drummer Justin Faulkner was reminiscent (in the best possible way) of Branford’s first force of nature drummer, Jeff “Tain” Watts.  

Marsalis  then presented, pretty much in the style of that day, the 30’s Tin Pan Alley number “There Ain’t No Man Worth the Salt of My Tears”.  It was brilliantly executed, but brought up what I think is the most persistent fair criticism of Marsalis- he behaves as a musical chameleon, taking on the colors of whatever tune he’s playing.  When he played with Soullive, he sounds like he was on the horn line of Chicago in the 70s.  When he plays this tune, he sounds like a fusion of Coleman Hawkins and Illinois Jacquet.  When he plays with Sting, he channels Wayne Shorter with Joni.  This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but here Wayne is the especially useful foil. No matter what context he was in, you knew it was Wayne.  Forty years in, can we say that about Branford?  

I left to hear what was hands down the best set of the day, Dave Holland’s “New Quartet” with pianist Kris Davis, saxophonist Jaleel Shaw and drummer Nasheet Waits.  If you know Holland’s discography, you know how many amazing bands he’s had, how many great tunes those bands recorded, and the sympathy and ferocity with which they played.  Even only a few months into their tenure together- this was their first American appearance after a lengthy European tour- this group holds up against any of Dave’s best bands.  Davis was particularly exciting, playing with equal fluency “inside” and “outside”, often in the same tune.  It’s clearly a new stimulus for Shaw and Holland, and prods Waits, no stranger to exploration with the likes of Jason Moran and Ralph Alessi, to drive the band around new corners.  I hope this band records a double album tomorrow- we’ll all be better for hearing it.  

The closer on the big stage was Almost Dead, a Grateful Dead tribute band with Branford sitting in.  I’ve honestly never gotten the Deadhead phenomenon, but I also never looked that hard.  Listening to a couple of tunes, I think I get it- the tunes I heard were accessible but a little bit twisty, the lyrics were wide-open enough that if I were stoned, I’d think “deep, man.”  And the playing was top notch.  It wasn't enough to make me go seek out Dead bootlegs, but I enjoyed it.  

Saturday opened with two women known both for their playing and their singing, saxophonist Camille Thurman (best known for her work with Jazz at Lincoln Center) on one stage and trumpeter Jennifer Hartwick (best known for her work with Trey Anistasio) on another.  Thurman performed a very straightahead set with her quintet (featuring longtime NY anchor Lonnie Plaxico and trumpeter Wallace Roney II), burning through the material on both her axes.  Hartwick played in a more pop vein with guitarist Nick Cassarino, with the peak of her set being a cover of Radiohead’s “Creep”.  Each has big broad sounds as both singers and instrumentalists, and both brought their house down. 

Next up was saxophonist James Brandon Lewis, who came out of nowhere to dominate last year’s Downbeat’s Critics Poll.  This band was not the one that won him the plaudits, but a trio with electric bass and drums, playing tunes that alternated between rubato rumination and indie-rock style grooves.  Lewis has an amazing well-deep sound, and a couple of the rubato moments were really compelling, but overall I didn’t find a sense of direction that kept me engaged.  

I moved on to trumpeter Keyon Harrold’s set. He brought a quintet featuring guitarists Nils Felder, who shined throughout.  I’d describe the music as sort of anthemic fusion (that theme will return)- there was a hard hitting tune with a strong backbeat that melted into a lovely free piano solo, then a funk ballad with interesting harmonies and a less interesting melody, and it melted into Monk’s “Round Midnight”.  Harrold is a brilliant, brash player, and I liked but didn’t love the set.

The surprise of the day that I did love was Superblue, a collaboration between guitarist Charlie Hunter, drummer Nate Smith and vocalist Kurt Elling.  I expected one more meandering jam, but got instead a lot of inspired improvising.  I missed them covering an 80s pop tune that I’d dismiss as cheese, but was apparently great.  I arrived for a 70s soul groove (and good Lord did Smith and Hunter make it groove) that Elling was seemingly freestyling vocals over, with bebop-scat level melodies and cipher worthy lyrics.  It was a sight to behold.  Elling is remarkable- a brilliant technician who is universally appreciated as a pro’s pro.  (His voice has a shrill edge to it, otherwise I think he’d be this generation’s Mel Torme.  But if it means he does work like this, maybe it’s better that it is what it is)  As I moved to the next stage, they were closing with a rousing rendition of The Roots’ “The Seed 2.0”.  Is that a standard now?

Bobby Watson was next, playing some serious hard bop, as he’s been doing for as long as I can remember.  (Eric Jackson, the late legendary Boston jazz DJ loved Watson, so he has an outsized space in my development as a player and listener.)  The first tune, a slow blues, felt a little pro forma, but Watson came alive on the second tune, reaching beyond rote bop language into something exciting. 

I caught fifteen minutes of the “Louis Armstrong at 125” set, with three of the featured trumpeters at the festival playing Armstrong material interspersed with audio clips of Louis himself, probably from the new center opened as part of the Armstrong House in Queens.  I’m more excited to visit Queens than I was about the music- it was fine, but not compelling.  

I walked by The War and the Treaty, a husband and wife singing duo.  The gentleman was doing a really lowball Armstrong imitation, and then broke into a rubato “Autumn Leaves”.  I kept walking.  

  

I walked to Charles Lloyd, with his longstanding quartet featuring Jason Moran and Eric Harland.  I will admit that Lloyd is one of those musicians who I’ve never liked as much as I think I’m supposed to- I often find him sort of Coltrane light.  But the cast of characters who have and do play with him is a Hall of Fame cast, and they seem to think otherwise, so I keep listening.  Today I was rewarded- everyone, including Lloyd, sounded fantastic, the ensemble interplay was beautiful, and the music was really moving.  That Lloyd can still do this at age 85 makes it that much more special.  And Jason Moran is a national treasure, and we should treat him as such.  

I caught a bit of Colbert bandleader Louis Cato next.  It was catchy sort of soul singer/songwriter stuff.  Very good, but not my thing.  So I wandered back to the main stage for Christian McBride’s “Jam Jawn”, his semi-organized jam session, this year featuring Ravi Coltrane and Nate Smith.  Last year’s jawn was one of the surprise gems of the festival, this year, it was just a jam session.  Not bad, but not memorable.  Except, the guest of honor was pianist Bob James, who I think of as a “smooth jazz” guy, but in actuality has done just about everything in the business- McBride pointed out that his first appearance at NJF was forty years ago with Sarah Vaughn.  He sounded incredible.  Vocalist Cenise (sp?) joined them for “Hound Dog”, featuring the Big Ma Thorton lyrics.  That made me think, Nate Smith could play anything and it would be amazing…

Next up was the Julian Lage trio, featuring old friend Jorge Rodear and drummer Dave King.  For many of my jazz nerd friends this was the highlight of the festival- the band is smart and virtuosic and listen to each other with intense sympathy. The tunes varied in moods and grooves, and everyone played great.  

I pulled myself away to hear “Love in Exile”, the collaboration between pianist Vijay Iyer, vocalist Arook Aftab and bassist Shazad Ismaily.  Described clinically, the music was a series of vamps and drones, which Iyer and Ismaily augmenting their axes with various electronic sounds, which Aftab sang over with a handful of Urdu lyrics whose context I admit I don’t know (I only know it’s Urdu because I googled it).  This has been a polarizing album among critics- in Downbeat’s four critic “Hotbox” one praised it for its patience and layered atmosphere, another panned it as boring and redundant.  Listening to it I see both sides of the argument.  I found it occasionally hypnotic, but more often not that compelling.  (Full disclosure- I played a gig a long time ago with Shazad that bore uncanny resemblances to this music, only it was a wedding band.  That was quite a Saturday…) 

As I walked back to the mainstage, I passed a few dozen campers from the Newport Jazz Camp taking a group photo at the designated selfie spot.  After the photo, most of them then sprinted- and I mean sprinted- back to the main stage to hear bassist Thundercat.  I sauntered behind them to a set that I’d describe as power fusion- tons of notes from all members of his trio, most of them very loud.  The second tune started fast and then rushed.  Maybe 16 year old me would have liked it, but 40-something year old me got bored quickly and moved on.  

I moved to my last set of the day, with pianist Orrin Evans and his quintet, featuring Ingrid Jensen on trumpet, Gary Thomas on saxophone and flute, Luques Curtis on bass and Mark Whitfield II on drums.  From the opening note the band was on fire- there was a lot of collective improvisation and intense band interaction that would melt into a star turn by Jensen, Thomas or Evans (though 30 years in, I still haven’t warmed to Gary’s playing).  Whitfield was playing with so much groove and fire that until Orrin introduced him, I thought it might be Nate Smith.  On the fourth tune, a slow blues, Ingrid gave a clinic on how to play with a plunger, and Evans seemed to be playing with the insides of the beat like he had it in the lab under a microscope.  (for more context, Ethan Iverson talked about this as “micro-swing”, and attributes it to Kenny Kirkland.)  It was a fantastic set.  

Due to some other stuff I had going I didn’t see the closing set by Jon Batiste, but I did hear chunks of it on my bike ride home, closing with his song “Freedom” as I locked my bike.  It sounded like the crowd was really digging it.  

I missed most of Sunday’s opening acts, but caught the tail end of Matthew Whitaker’s set.  He is the blind pianist/organist who was featured on a series of Apple ads last year.  I actually saw him at a high school competition when he was 15 or so- he was blowing the roof off then, and has since gained broader attention, even more chops and better stage presence.  The closer had serious Stevie Wonder vibes, ending with a medley that included “What’s Going On”.  (see coda)

Next was Melvis Santa, a Cuban-American pianist, percussionist and vocalist who I’d seen here before with Jane Bunnett’s Macaca.  This set was all her music, a combination of chants, songs and tunes touching on all sorts of modern improvisational styles, but very grounded in Cuban music.  The guitarist (whose name I missed) was brilliant, with serious Pat Metheny vibes, and trumpeter Josh Evans also shined.  A highlight was Santa reciting a poem dedicated to Abbey Lincoln called “My Music is Mine”, starting over a wild freebop texture, evolving into something much more controlled.  It was very compelling music.  

Equally compelling, somewhat to my surprise, was saxophonist Charles McPherson.  McPherson is one of the last working saxophonists whose work ties directly back to Charlie Parker, and the music, mostly his originals along with the gauntlet piece “Cherokee”, was unapologetically bebop.  Bebop is now the backbone of playing and teaching jazz, and if you’re not careful, like so much else in music education it can feel more like an exercise than a work of art.  And while his sidemen, all great players, sounded good, but an inside baseball, “I love jazz” kind of good.  McPherson sounded completely free.  The language was Charlie Parker, but also so much more (he has a crazy altissimo range), and more than a little bit wild.  It was a work of art.  

I caught the tail end of bassist/singer/songwriter Adi Oasis’ set.  The first thing I noticed when I looked at the stage was that she is very pregnant- she said this was her last gig of the year, and I wish her all good things with her expanding family.  As for the music- pretty generic “Quiet Storm” R&B.  One of the choruses revolved around the line “I want to see you naked.”  No comment.  The last tune had a processed bassline a la Rufus, and alternated between 10 and 11 beat phrases.  That was kind of cool.  But the set left me with another “why are they booked over fifteen other artists?” vibe.  

The Bill Charlap trio, with Peter and Kenny Washington, played a strong straightahead set, with “Caravan” at the center.  It’s not my thing, but they sounded great doing it, and many of my peers who I admire came away raving.  So too did a pretty large audience.  (See coda)

I bounced briefly to Cuban star Cimefunk, who was playing a set of what I’d call Cuban funk party music.  I didn’t stay, but friends who did said they grooved like crazy, and everyone had a great time.  

Maybe I should have stayed, but instead I went to see Scary Goldings, a collaboration between organist Larry Goldings and LA funk band Scary Pockets, featuring Ted Poor on drums and the John Scofield.  They played loose but well organized tunes, with space for everyone to blow.  Now look, Goldings is amazing, Ted Poor is fantastic, and Sco is a living legend.  But this was the sixth or seventh jam set of the festival, and it would have to be a Herculean level of compelling to hold my interest.  And it wasn’t all that compelling.  This is as much a consequence of the programming as it is of the band. (again, skip to the coda)

I bounced to the set of Cuban-American percussionist Pedrito Martinez and his band, which was pretty straightforward Afro-Latin music.  It grooved like crazy, and I loved it.  My only quibble- about halfway through the set the pianist started to play accents on a synth with a terrible 80s patch.  I thought it got in the way of the groove.  Everything else about it was fantastic.  

Marcus Miller and his band, featuring trumpeter Russell Gunn, played a set of funky smooth jazz that would’ve felt right at home at the festival in 1993.  Miller is an amazing virtuoso, but this set was boring.  

Festival producer Christian McBride typically plays two sets on the festival, his “Jam Jawn” (see above) and one of his bands.  This year he instead played with the now legendary Joshua Redman quartet, featuring Redman, McBride, Brad Mehldau and Brian Blade.  Redman said this was their only gig as a unit this calendar year, and they certainly played like it, savoring every minute- everyone sounded great, and the band interplay was beautiful.  Brian Blade is a national treasure, and we should treat him as such.  

Last year Samara Joy was an up and comer who took the festival by storm.  This year she is a two-time Grammy winner, so the expectations were perhaps a little higher. She came out with an ambitious set- after her first tune she talked about her recent trip to Brazil before launching into “No More Blues”, using both the Portugese and (far inferior) English lyrics.  The rest of the set included “Stardust”, a new lyric to the insanely twisty Mingus tune “Reincarnation of a Lovebird”, and what is fast becoming her staple “Guess Who I Saw Today”.  Her band is another “band”- they’ve probably played 100+ gigs together this year, and it sounds like it.  

One of the pleasures of Joy’s first two records was her understatement- she has a rich low and middle range, and can project whole worlds without getting very loud.  But in this set, she favored a showier approach, living much more at the top of her pitch and dynamic range, which set the crowd afire.  It was still an enjoyable set, but lacked some of the nuance that attracted me to her initially.  (again, see coda)

I popped in on the band Cautious Clay, a recent Blue Note signing.  It was a conventional rock band formation, only the lead singer also played saxophone and flute.  After a false start, they opened with a tune with the lead singer playing a sax solo… that the mic didn’t pick up.  They shifted to a second tune that felt pretty generic indie rock, so I left.  A friend arrived later in their set, and enjoyed it.  Apparently there was some flute salad…

I popped across to the Quad stage to hear the Soul Rebels, a brass band from New Orleans, return customers from last year, and this year featuring hip-hop legends Rakim and Talib Kweli.   From minute one they brought the funk, and it was so much fun.  They set up a party vibe, then several members of the band rapped (well). Then they brought  Rakim, who performed some of his seminal hits- “I Ain’t No Joke”, “Don’t Sweat the Technique” to a brass band accompaniment.  It was tremendous fun, and the crowd ate it up. I was bummed to miss Kweli, but I didn’t want to miss a moment of the festival closer.  

Herbie Hancock, at age 83, did not disappoint.  He led an all-star band, featuring bassist James Genus, guitarist Lionel Louke, drummer Justin Tyson, and trumpeter Terrence Blanchard.  The set was what I think is now a stock Herbie set- long pieces that mash up hits from his catalog- “Rock It”, “Butterfly”- with discursive and virtuosic improvisations from the band.  At one point Herbie played a long vocorder improvisation pleading for peace, so we can tell AI the right way to do things.  (Yikes).  At another, James Genus created a looped solo bass piece that landed eventually in “Actual Proof”.  The set closed with Herbie playing keytar on his warhorse “Chameleon”, which should have been hoary, but wasn’t.  It was a clinic on how to create grooves together, and while Herbie occasionally drifted into showy licks, more often he mined the seemingly fallow ground for exciting ideas, and the band brought the same level of creativity to this old mare.  It was a fantastic close to the festival. 

CODA- big picture notes on the festival.  

Small but important quibble- especially on the Harbor and Quad stages the sound mixes were rough for way too long into various sets on multiple days.  Several lead horn players (Sevian, Wilkens, Thurman) were inaudible for their first one or two tunes, backup singers were louder than lead singers, etc.  In the two years I was helping with high school performers at the festival I found the sound people to be absolutely top notch, so I don’t know what happened this year, but it was pretty awful.  

Every working musician, hell every human in the first world, knows that social media has become a critically important piece of a musical career.  Certain artists have been booked at Newport based on how they built a following on social, and then parlayed it into real world success.  (Last year it was Emmet Cohen, who I respect enormously; this year I’m sure at least one of the acts I reviewed above was there because of Instagram, I just don’t know which)  But as I watched especially some of the younger acts- Samara Joy, Lekecia Benjamin, Matthew Whiaker, Domi and Beck- I worried that the intense pressure that social media creates may be stunting their growth as artists.  I feel like each of them spent time in their set either trying to manufacture a viral moment or begging for followers, at the expense of the music.   As one of my teaching colleagues said about something else awhile back, it’s not their fault, but it is their (and our) problem.  

Last year I wrote that if Newport signified anything about the state of jazz (which honestly, I don’t think it does), it was that the backbeat ruled.  This year, the programming heavily favored the jam and the jamband.  (to that end, I’ve never smelled that much weed at the festival before. Rhode Island did just legalize recreational pot, but still.)  Soullive, Almost Dead, Superblue, Jawn Jam, Big Gigantic (who I didn’t see), Cimafunk, the Soul Rebels… it was a lot.  And judging by audience reaction (which I know is entirely subjective), it wasn’t like all the jam sets were ravenously received and all the more traditionally jazz stuff was meeting polite applause.  People were absolutely going nuts for Bill Charlap, Samara Joy and Charles McPherson, for instance, and Soullive got polite but not overwhelming applause.  My takeaway- people want to hear great jazz at a jazz festival.  Please program accordingly.   

To be clear,I liked some of the jammier stuff, but it was a lot, and a lot of one thing means something else gets left out.  For instance, there wasn’t a single big band this year, or a single trad (20s/30s jazz) act, staples of a Wein booked festival.  There was less from what roughly gets called the “avant garde”- no Mary Halverson, no William Parker or the like. And my distaste for Big Freedia was amplified by the absence of Meshell N’Degeocello, who not only was an out queer woman when it was a career impediment to be so, but who also just put a killing new record out!  I love Newport, but if this is what the festival is going to look like moving forward, this might be the last time I write this- it won’t be worth my time and money.  

*I use this comparison cognizant of the recent allegations against Lizzo and her company.  I say that only about look and feel- colors of the set, costumes, the variety of size and shape of the performers- and not to make any insinuations about Big Freedia.  I thought the visual presentation looked like it took inspiration from Lizzo’s SNL setup, that’s it.

Newport Jazz Festival 2022

I'm back from this year's Newport Jazz Festival, as usualy a hugely fun hang. Initially, I was only going to post a mini review on Facebook, but then I realized I had a blog post (or 3). So here goes- lightly edited from the FB version. If an act that performed isn't reviewed, it's because I couldn't be in three places at once.

Newport Day 1- this was the hottest (in terms of the thermometer) of the three days, which may have affected my ears. It was well attended, but not mobbed. To the acts:

Michela Marino Lerman- a tap-based set of music built around social justice. Fantastic concept, execution was a mixed bag. Wanted the tap more at the center of it.

Dan Wilson- Pittsburgh for the win!

Mingus Big Band- This band can be a little hit or miss, but they really brought it today. Alex Pope Norris and Helen Sung especially shined, and the band was really tight. I was surprised how slow they took "Fables of Faubus"

Theon Cross- tuba plus drum machine plus loops, with a kind of New Orleans vibe. Again, I wanted more, especially more melody.

Nate Smith and Kinfolk- the highlight of the day. A tight band playing nerd jazz (back to back tunes in 17 and 15) with enough groove and ear worms to hook the crowd. Everyone in the band sounded great, as did guests Joel Ross and Vernon Reid.

Carlos Henriquez Nonet: The Bronx Story- great charts, really well played, traversing the many styles at play in Carlos' home neighborhood, the Boogie Down Bronx. The rhythm section was phenomenal, and the second trumpeter, really, really likes Wynton.

Nick Payton trio- Everyone played their asses off, especially Billy Stewart, who may now be underrated. But for someone who likes to talk big in terms of concepts ("Black American Music"), I wanted, well, a little more from the concept and the writing.

Paladino/Mills/Gendel/???- really interesting, really well executed set on the more organized side of the jam band world. Pino is a treasure.

BadBadNotGood- I didn't get it when they went viral. I still don't get it. And the horns were out of tune.

The Baylor Project- gospel tunes done from a modern jazz perspective. Really well executed, and the crowd ate it up.

McBride's Newport Jawn- Christian's annual jam session, this one featuring Chris Potter, Vijay Iyer, Mike Stern, Brandee Younger and Makaya McCraven. Best one of these I've heard- everyone shined, the choice of material was great, and no one stepped on anyone.

Shabaka Hutchings- a solo woodwind set, first wood flute, then clarinet. At first I wasn't into it, but the clarinet stuff was bad-assed, and the choice to make his Newport debut this way was pretty bold.

Bummed to miss Terence Blanchard re-interpreting some of his opera stuff. Very excited for tomorrow!

Day 2. Too much great music happening at the same time, so I can't report on some things I really wanted to see, but what I did see:

Jazzmeia Horn- much more better set than when I saw her five years ago- still a great instrument, but a much better performer. She did a lot of banter with the audience that probably would've worked in a club, but got lost outdoors with thousands of people.

Giveton Gelin- solid post-post bop, as if someone asked "how to we take the Wynton/Branford band of the 80s further?" I especially liked the alto player, whose name I didn't catch. Look forward to seeing how this band evolves.

Eric Wurzelbacher- incredibly tight sax/bass/drums trio. These guys have been playing together almost exclusively for six years, and it shows. That said, the material felt really Brecker-ish to me.

Makaya McCraven- brilliant set, combining his tunes with his Blue Note deconstructions. Top- notch band featuring Greg Ward, Marquis Hill, and guest Joel Ross. He is the real deal. (see closer tomorrow)

Antonio Sanchez and Bad Hombre, and Thana Alexa's "Ona" (Friday)- I put these together because of overlapping personnel and themes. Dense, complicated really well performed music (Bad Hombre kind of felt like Pat Metheny Group 2.0, and I say that as a compliment) with heavy political themes- with Ona women's rights, with Bad Hombre issues of immigration. For me, the lyrics got really clunky and heavy-handed, and made the music less effective. (and I'm on their side on these issues, I just think it's so hard to get "issue music" right)

Sons of Kemet- an Afro/British quartet of tenor sax and woodwinds, tuba, and two drummers, playing music that has its roots in Afropop, Carribean music, English dancehall, and Archie Shepp. Sound weird? It was. Sound amazing and cool? It was.

Sullivan Fortnier trio- saving for tomorrow.

Cory Wong- Wong might be the best living rhythm guitarist I've seen not named Wah-Wah Watson. He's that good. BUT, the music felt like North Texas formulated fusion, better than Snarky Puppy, but with some of the same defects (for me at least). That was less good. I didn't care for it, a bunch of my friends at the festival did.

Samara Joy- this girl (she's 21, 22?) is the real deal in terms of her voice, technique, styling, choice of material, etc. She's best known as the winner of the 2019 Sarah Vaughn competition, and she's leaning really heavily on the Sarah vibes in what she's doing right now. I hope, like Jazzminea above and Cecile below, she can start to move towards something that is in her own voice, because as good as this was, this wasn't it.

Maria Schneider Orchestra- a triumphant return, including old favorites, multiple pieces for her amazing last album "Data Lords", and a premiere based on a really weird bird. Great ensemble, great solos, Jonathan Blake drumming his ass off.... aaah.

Joe Lovano Trio Tapestry- I only got to see five minutes! Damn you Newport bookers for putting all of my favorite stuff on at the same time! (this will also be a huge issue tomorrow)

Cecile McLorin Salvant- this is the "Ghost Song" band from her recent album. I saw them in February in Boston, they were great. Today, they were better. Like Makaya and Maria and Nate Smith yesterday, Cecile is the profile of a mature artist, combining disparate influences and a connection to the history of the music to something that sounds completely personal and in the now. Go buy "Ghost Song", and see her if she comes within 200 miles of you...

Laufey- every year there is at least one act that leaves veterans of the festival, critics and fans alike, saying "wait, whey did they get booked?" She wins this year- a lovely young Scandanavian woman with a sort of ingenue vibe and a deep alto voice. She seems like the kind of singer who Burt Bacharach would've written for in the early 60s, if Bacharach was into Bjork (I know that's cheap, but the influence was clear). The songs had that vibe, of young love and innocence, with either bossa or ballad feels. Not bad, but not memorable either. In the last five years of my career I've come across at least three singer/songwriters who are probably on her level, which makes me think there are many many more out there, and probably more than a few better. And, she had background SIMPTE tracks cued with canned backing voices- the first instance of karaoke at Newport ever? Again, how did she get the gig?

Tuba Skinny- I think it's to Christian McBride's credit that he's kept George Wein's tradition (or insistence, I'm not sure) that every year Newport books a trad New Orleans or 20s swing band for the festival. This was this year's, a young group who plays on the streets of New Orleans. Great washboard.

The Ron Carter Quartet- celebrating his 85th birthday this year, Carter has lost a step, but makes up for it in elegance, musicianship, and a great band featuring pianist Renee Rosnes. It was fun to watch them play a full step without stopping, slipping from one tune to the next the way his old boss Miles did in the 60s.

Emmet Cohen and Sullivan Fortnier (Saturday)- these are two studies of what it is to be a piano trio in the 21st century. Both pianists are clearly adept students of the music, able to summon stride or clusters at will. Fortnier's band took a more impressionistic approach, in the Bill Evans/Fred Hersch vein, Cohen summoned the hard bop trios of the late 50s, with arrangements inside the tune and lots of gestures that have clearly been honed in the zillion livestreams they did. (plus, a healthy dose of stride) Both sets were very successful. Cohen also had the largest crowd of the weekend at his stage, a clear sign of his breakout internet stardom, and was available to the public than anyone else I saw around this weekend.

The Nth Power- a secular praise band. And if they were playing at a megachurch within fifty miles of me, I'd go. Made up of high level session players who met in New Orleans, they play really polished "good vibes" music. I'm hoping they can cut into some of Michael Franti's audience- similar vibe, less obvious pot culture, better music.

The Soul Rebels- a modern New Orleans brass band. High energy, very tight, a party on the stage.

Takuya Kuroda- if GRP were still making records, this would have fit right in. A mix of lite fusion and post-bop with melodies that seemed to reflect Kuroda's Japanese heratige. It wasn't bad, but I wasn't interested.

Jazz is Dead Presents- this started late, so I only saw about the first ten minutes, and I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm told Gary Bartz came on later in the set and was fantastic.

Jason Moran and the Bandwagon- were on fire. If the other piano trios honored the tradition by playing tunes, the Bandwagon put all of the tasty tradition fruits in a Vitamix and made the best smoothie imaginable- the first set blended Geri Allen, Fats Waller, Monk and something I'm missing into this wash of brilliance. The last third of the set was dedicated to the music of James Reece Europe, Moran's continuing passion project and next recording. It feels like the band is still wrapping itself around this music, but if today is and early sip I think the album will be amazing. (Moran brings it to Boston this winter)

Melissa Aldana- her set featured the music from her Blue Note debut "12 Stars." This was the most "modern jazz" set of the weekend- twisty tunes, virtuosic improvisation, great band interaction. She sounds great.

Digable Planets- nostalgia act- three rappers plus live band doing mostly stuff from 1993's "Reachin'" (If you don't remember them, they were one of the the rap groups that sampled a lot of Blue Note tracks, with their biggest hit being "Cool Like Dat". Cool.

(1993 is now nostalgia. I feel old...)

Sampa the Great- dancehall hip-hop from Zambia. It may have been cool, but I wasn't feeling it.

Mononeon- the singer/bassist wins the wildest outfit award (see my instagram, and my friend Bryan @boneydiego for the pro shots). He's a fantastic bass player, but the music felt Thundercat lite.

Waiting for the next act I bumped into Anat Cohen, who was playing later on the George Wein tribute. I had seen her at UMass in April, and we had a lovely chat. This is one of the reasons Newport is so cool...

Nubya Garcia- one of the acts I was most curious about- another of the London sensations. Rather than describe her music, I'd encourage you to listen to it. It was a (mostly) acoustic jazz quartet, mixing swing and backbeat feels, and a lot of grooves and repeated melodies. Garcia is a commanding player, but not because she is playing virtuosically the way Melissa Aldana or

Chris Potter is. It's a very different approach than what this jazz nerd is used to, but very effective.

Vijay Iyer Trio- with Linda May Han Oh and Jeremy Dunston filling in for the covid-ailing Tyshawn Sorey (get better! We need you!). Iyer's current trio music has a rolling, sweeping quality, like you're riding their wave for longer than you thought a wave could go. Halfway through the set they punctuated these grooves with an angular take on Monk's "Work". Everyone was good, Linda was exceptional.

Two final notes:

In years' past there has been at least one band, and usually more than one, that represents what used to be called "the avant garde", or the noisier, less accessible side of the music. In the iconic film "Jazz on a Summer's Day", the filmmakers hone in on Chico Hamilton's group, which was pretty weird for the time. In my festival going career I've heard Mary Halverson solo, Peter Evans, Eric Revis' "out" project, Kris Davis solo, a Vernon Reid solo set, a John Zorn day(!). The closest to that was Shabaka Hutchings' set, but he took the main stage with Sons of Kmet the next day, which had the people grooving. Christian, if you read this, please make it a little weirder next year- bring in Jamie Branch's Ride or Die, or Jon Iragabon, or Taylor Ho Bynum, or, or. Keep jazz weird!

As the reviews of Newport trickle out over the next few days, I think (fear?) we'll see a tendency for critics to write a "what does this say about jazz?" piece. I'm tempted to, but then I remember every think piece I've read after a big festival, and how, well, not wrong the piece was, but how ultimately irrelevant the piece looks five years out. This was the festival that Christian McBride and his team booked, based on their tastes, what they thought would fill the park, and all kinds of reasons that I don't have a lot of insight into. If another major booker had booked the festival, it would've looked different- maybe better, likely worse, but different. And no doubt, there is music percolating in little venues in Brooklyn and Chicago and LA and London and God knows where that will have more impact on the future of music than half the acts I saw this weekend. And that's as it should be.

That said, most of the acts I heard that are at least a generation younger than me- Nubya Garcia, Sons of Kemet, Nate Smith, Mononeon, Takuya Kuroda, etc.- the ones I loved, the ones I didn't, have put the backbeat front and center, whether it's the backbeat from the club, the backbeat from a Dilla record, the backbeat suggested by African music, or the backbeat you think the crowd wants to hear, it's there. Even Ron Carter's set had hints of beats light years from his days with Miles. Not everyone dealt with it (Cecile, E Cohen, Melissa), but most did. And I think that will be a theme in the music moving forward.