You make the best of what's still around- Police @ Fenway Park, 7/29/07

Walking towards Fenway from Brookline on Sunday evening, it was unusually quiet- I must've missed the rush of folks into the park, because the herd was small, even for a non-game night. Or maybe opening act Fiction Plane put them so sleep. (see Globe review) But when I made it over to the first base side of the park, I could see the masses inside almost spilling over the fences, and another fifty or so folks sitting behind the park. (Note: behind first base is the best place around Fenway to hear anything. Clear sound,very little echo, seems about as close as you can get to being inside without paying $75.)

At about 8:05 though, the park erupted as the Police walked on stage and burst into "Message in a Bottle". At times the crowd almost drowned out Sting, who was in excellent voice, sending out his SOS. What followed was an hour-plus (I left around 9:15) of Police hits: "Synchronicity II", "When the World is Falling Down", "Every Little Thing She Does". The band played it fairly straight, with a few exceptions; the first verse of "When the World" was in half time, making it much less recognizable; the chorus, as everyone remembers it, then hit like a ton of bricks. And, somewhat daringly, Andy Summer replaced the opening of "Every Little Thing", one of their most recognizable hooks, with an mysterious ascending chord riff. And the band was amazingly tight- I never saw them in their first incarnation, but here it was as good as everybody tells me it used to be- absolutely tight, never any hesitation from the band, everything locked down. When the band did falter, interestingly, was when they opened things up a lot, what some of the rock critics have labeled they're "jazz odysseys". My problem was they weren't odd enough- no one soloed, nothing shifted hugely from what came before, things just sort of sat their for awhile, sometimes several minutes, until Sting started to sing again. For all their strengths, and they are many, I never thought the Police grooved hard enough to have that be enough the way it is with a great funk band, so what could of been "WHOMP" felt like a dull thud.

In some ways, I'm glad I didn't drop the big bucks. I'm glad I heard what I heard, and I'm sure it was a lot of fun, but listening to a band relive the good old days (which ultimately is what they were doing despite all the band's pontificating to the contrary) is not my cup of tea. But it was quite a lovely cup of tea.

building a machine that's not for me

Just in case I needed another reason to kill my television, CBS is broadcasting a video game tournament as part of its Sports Sunday package. WHAT? Were the rights to all the bridge games taken?

One of the games featured will be Guitar Hero, which I was just introduced to recently by some of my students. (The sight of twenty fairly competent high school musicians crowded around a TV to play a fake guitar was frankly depressing) Maybe I just don't appreciate hair bands enough, but I'm afraid I don't get it. With the amount of work it takes to get good at that game, you could probably learn to play half the crap on a real guitar.

I feel like an old crank writing this- I can feel my hairs turning grey as I write this. I think I'll go watch cartoons now...

put on the red light

First, a late addition to the concert calendar; Abdullah Ibrahim, the great South African pianist, performs a two-night run at the Real Deal in Cambridge. If past performances and recordings are any indicator, it should be mesmerizing. (D-Out on Abrahim here)

Mwanji dug the (in)famous Bob Moses rant from 2001 out of the archives this week. Taylor Ho Bynum, himself a (unfair) target of the rant, responds here. I remember I was living in New York at the time this was published, and my then-producer called me: "Dude, you're not going to believe this S&%#!" I didn't, but then when I got to know "rakalam" and James (who actually got a lot of milage out of this exchange), I did. Looking back at it from a distance, the whole thing just seems dumb.

Happier matters- this is a good weekend for cultural ingestion in Boston in general, if you can stand the heat. Tonight, I'll be at the Boston Common for the Commonwealth Shakespeare Company's seventh annual free production of Shakespeare in the park. Tomorrow at Tanglewood the fellows' orchestra presents a concert performance of Verdi's Don Carlo. I won't be there in person, but I'll watch it on the radio.

And, the biggie of the weekend is, of course, the Police at Fenway Park. Since I couldn't drop $200 for a ticket, I will probably skulk the grounds Sunday night. (If you're within a half-mile of the park, you should get a good earful)

Ain't nothing wrong...

But I am busy. Here's links so I'm mocked less for liking Tammy Faye...

The Bill Holman band on Youtube. (via Rifftides) It's easy sometimes, at least for me, to overlook how good Bill's work continues to be, and how much meat there is to chew on in what seems like very light, straight-ahead writing.

A new (?) model for jazz fundraising. (via Mwanji) The more I watch the jazz world from a slightly more global perspective (or try to), the more I think jazz is best served by local, ground up organizations. The orchestral/museum model, which is fantastic for what it does, rarely serves us very well. (Witness J@LC, ideology aside spending seemingly 90% of its time and energy simply trying to maintain what it's built) More thoughts on this later.

More on postmodernism in jazz. You know you love it, or maybe you just its signifiers...

On a related note, critic Fred Kaplan has a blog. I like his breakdown of the Jazz Journalist Awards. I love Andrew Hill- some very warm NYC memories are going to hang with Ron Horton when he was playing with Hill's sextet, and marveling at the music- but I always question showering someone with awards the minute they pass on. I wish this had happened upon the release of Dusk.

Examining Rock the Bells, an exercise in hip-hop nostalgia (?!), as it makes it's way to New England.

Muppet relics find a home. Awww...

RIP Tammy Faye Messner

Tammy Faye Messner (nee Baker) died yesterday after a long battle with cancer.

I'm a little to young, and far too northeastern and Catholic in my upbringing to remember much of Tammy Faye Baker in her heyday and subsequent fall beyond the headlines and jokes. And I saw the "Surreal Life" all of once, and thought little of it. But she always struck me as a woman of conviction, even when I didn't share them. She had an odd and incongruous gay cult following, which she did nothing to discourage or deride, which given her background would've been easy. (See this interview) And despite the surreality of her life before and after PTL, which she did little to discourage, with her absurd makeup and bigger than life character, she always struck me as someone who was trying to walk the talk of her beliefs. She was a very human being in a movement that too often unjustifiably deifies its heroes and completely dehumanizes its enemies. For all her absurdities and shortcomings, methinks the world could use more Christians like her.

Update: Salon has a less generous, but no less apt remembrance by filmmakers who filmed her and her son,

buzzing the hivemind

I wanted to veer away from the usual fare for a moment to ask for some computing advice.  For the Mac people in the house, what is your browser of choice these days.  I was using Camino, and am test driving Opera, and like parts but not the whole of each.  (I think IE and, sadly, Safari are a lost cause.)  Yahoo mail, which I use a lot, doesn't seem to like Opera very much, and Camino doesn't like any Microsoft-based plug ins.  Advice is most welcome.  

Also, are any of my readers test-driving the new beta version of Reason? (v 4.0)  I signed up, but haven't gotten it yet.  I haven't upgraded from 2.5 yet, and this would be a great excuse for me to get off my ass and program some more.  (I like 2.5 a lot, but have a really tough time with the vocorder function, and a few other odds n'ends.)

On similar grounds, any feedback on the Finale '08?  Am considering it, but I feel like I'm just now used to '07.

If for whatever reason you don't want comments posted publicly, you can e-mail me at pat (at) visionsong (dot) com.  I appreciate the help always.

Also, a nice converstaion has started in my, and TIG's comments section about our post-modern posts.  More on that from me soon.  

pennies for your bytes

Modestly good news on the internet radio front: after lengthy negotiations, the new licensing fees for internet radio, which would most likely kill most web radio, have been postponed for 90 days, and most sides seem optimistic about a settlement that all sides can live with. (Boston Globe story here) I don't use web radio as much as maybe I ought- my few adventures with Pandora were positive- but as options shrink for all kinds of music on the radio band, any avenue is a good avenue.

have you got to be post-modernistic?

TIG continues to ponder the idea of "post-modern jazz". I was fascinated when he first posed the question, but have only now started to chew on it.

I should start by saying that I have a long-held distrust of the term "post-modern" and all that comes with it. I first came across it in a post-1945 music history class, in reference to Berio, Rochberg, the minimalists (I'll spare you the argument- I thought it a stretch) and- wait for it- Zorn's Naked City, among others. We got a good dollop of the signified and signifier, simulacrum, and the other gobelty-gook that comes with the term. The teacher also pointed us to Umberto Eco's Travels in Hyperreality, which I did enjoy thoroughly, and his idea that somehow wax museums are recreated castles were seeking to be "even better than the real thing".

My distrust is partially academic- the professor teaching the class did some things that I found academically, er, questionable in terms of sourcing and the like to justify his arguments, and in at least one case (Rochberg), what the professor opined about a particular piece and what the composer said about the piece were profoundly at odds. None of the (admittedly little) reading I've done in the field improved my opinion of postmodern scholarship. Further, there has always been borrowing and retooling in all the arts, not just music. Are we going to call Brahms' Variations on a Theme by Haydn post-modern? Renaissance recasting of Greek mythic figures? The hundreds of retellings of the Odyssey through western culture?

More importantly, though, my understanding of post-modernism is that it rests on the idea that no art has true intrinsic value, only that which one, person or culture, bestows on it. If you take that argument back far enough, it leads to the idea that no person, no soul, has any intrinsic value. Which can justify any number of heinous crimes against humanity, which I always thought the creation of art was the opposite of. (Maybe I'm too harsh- please chime it) And if you're ironic (one of the hallmarks of "great postmodern work"), you don't have to be honest, which again I always considered one of the hallmarks of art. (Note irony is not the same thing as satire, though the two are obviously connected) I can say for sure that most of the explicitly "post-modern" music I've either played or heard in performance is definitely more fun for the player than the listener, and has always left me ten minutes after it ended.

That's why I could never get into Naked City, which TIG mentions explicitly; it's a tremendous accomplishment, no doubt, but to what end? I've always thought (and what little I've heard from musicians involved backs this up) that the players thought of it as a game, a lot of fun and a very demanding music, but didn't put too much into what it meant. And it's why I've never thought much about Bill Frisell, featured in TIG's post (or many jazz musicians, actually) particularly in a postmodern context, though I don't disagree with TIG, (since he did quote, well, me) Hence my use of the word "authenticity". I don't consider what Frisell's done with language a whole lot different than what Miles did when he (by his own claims, at least) tried to blend the language of bebop, Julliard and Clark Terry with the delivery of Orson Wells.

Is The Bad Plus post-modern jazz? Behind Zorn they'd be the first place I go with that thought- clear mastery of several genres, lots of in jokes, fracturing source material seemingly for the sake of fracuring it? Stanley Crouch, hardly a post-moderninst ponders this in their interview:

"But you (TBP) also don't play anything after the head that that anybody would call pop music. Your first phrase, after the melody, is always totally "out." I find it really interesting how your audience is shocked and exhilarated by the conclusions you come to with a melody they already know.

To me, the conception of The Bad Plus is actually derived from the way Coltrane and his band played "My Favorite Things," which is really far from hearing Julie Andrews sing it. What Coltrane--what everybody in his band--was playing on it is like…[shrugs] "What are they playing?" --"'My Favorite Things.'" --"Where is 'My Favorite Things' here? I don't get it." That's The Bad Plus, too."

Ethan? (In the comments to TIG's post, Mwanji brings up a critic's assessment, very reasonable, I think, of Jason Moran as a high post-modernist as well)

In relation to TIG's comments about Mina Agossi (who I don't know at all), her quote begs the question- what DOES touch her, if Lady Day doesn't? Clearly what she does touches TIG, but does that have to do with what she sings, or what a listener connects to that delivery, or something else? Is that then inherently post-modern?

I used to debate this idea with some heady friends ad nauseum in college, but I grew bored of it- seemed like a fight I didn't need, and didn't have to invite myself to. But the question behind post-modernism always seemed to be, to me at least, is there something in art that is inherently, intrinsically valuable. "Pomo" seems to say no, and that always bothered me. It's the guest at the party that oozes coolness, impresses the herd, says witty but empty things, and ultimately contributes nothing to the event. If that is where art is, or is headed, it's something I want no part of, and want to show up as a clothesless emperor. If not, I need more edjumacation.

To be continued, perhaps- I didn't really answer the question, did I? Feedback encouraged.

my nostalgia lies in the mountains

Last night I drove to the Berkshires to see the Tanglewood Music Center (TMC) Orchestra perform a concert of Stravinsky, Shostikovich and Hayden. A few friends are there as fellows this summer, including former N$V bassist Evan Halloin, and it was great to catch up, and soak in that atmosphere, where I spent two summers in college as an RA for the facility's high school program. For those of you who have never been, Tanglewood is, forgive the cliche, a magical place, nestled just past a small town in the mountains, literally a Norman Rockwell painting come to life. (Rockwell lived a few miles away) For reasons I still don't entirely understand it evokes a kind of reverence in those who go there - performers, students, audiences- unblemished by our age of irony. It's a musical "Field of Dreams". Like that film it welcomes and embraces its ghosts, and they- the founder Koussevistky, Bernstein, Leon Fleischer, and the many remarkable performers who have taught and played there- hover in the air like guardian angels. It sounds a little hokey, and maybe it is, but even ten years removed from my last performance there (I was a saxophone ringer for the orchestra in '96) all the excitement of the place and the music was palpable.

It doesn't hurt that TMC Orchestra, even only three weeks into their season, is one of the best young orchestras in the country, maybe the world. (Before the arrival of New World in Miami, there was no contest) They play with a ferocity and vigor that some of the majors would do well to imitate; there is no fatigue or ennui in their playing, even playing warhorses, even in the midst of a seven-day a week, 18 hour a day scheudle. (I don't exaggerate.) Last night's program- a bear in its own right, wedged between a performance of The Planets last week and a production of Don Carlo next week- was not the sharpest I've heard the group, but the energy and excitement in the playing was constant, and hard not to like. Their season continues through the middle of August, including a fully staged production of Cosi fan Tutti and the annual performance of Beethoven's 9th. Concerts at Tanglewood also include the Mark Morris Dance company performing "Dido and Aneas" next weekend, and the Festival of Contemporary music will present the posthumous Julius Hemphill Sextet.

Closer to home, Eric Friedlander, featured this morning in the NY Times, passes through Boston with his own memories of America. He'll play tomorrow night at the Lily Pad in Inman- review to come.

Around the Horn

Useless statistic for the day: today is one of only two days on the American calendar where no major sports league has a game scheduled. (The other is Wednesday- the days before and after the baseball All-star game) A good day to crow about the hometown Red Sox, 10 games ahead of the next comer in the standings, early favorites for another trip to the World Series, even with their two best hitters not hitting and their #2 pitcher on the DL. I know, famous last words.

Anyway, batting cleanup on the interweb:

Mwanji reports on still more squabbles on the jazzosphere. TIG asks about postmodern jazz. I'll try to get back to this one... (BTW, I don't talk up, or read, The Improvising Guitarist enough. Always a keeper.) And Taylor Ho Bynum revels in an aesthetic fistfight.

From the Grey Lady, Murakawi on jazz and his novels, and the Public Editor on Iraq coverage. Both must reading for very different reasons.

Matana Roberts on Woman as Artist, Artist as Woman.

Ethan Iverson with an exhaustive look at Tom Baker as Dr. Who and Buffy. I grew up on Tom Baker- I was the fourth Doctor for Halloween when I was seven or so. Not to be outdone, his wife Sarah parses the feminine in male devotional poetry (and Kanye) and John Cage's rules. I still need to get Sarah's new book.

One addition to the "shining lights" portion of the linksroll- Yogahope, a non-profit based here in Boston that offers free classes to individuals living in homeless and battered women's shelters. Sue, who is the director of the program, is a Baptiste friend, as are many of the teachers there. (I may try to teach or assist with them in the fall) It is a wonderful, ground-up organization, (currently in a fundraising drive, hint hint) doing phenomenal work.

Finally, the other big talk of the weekend was, of course, Live Earth. I'm all for the cause (duh), and it reminded me of a few practical things I should be doing to reduce my wasteful ways, so if it did that times several million, I'd call it a success. Even if the nicest thing I can say about the music is "wildly uneven". High point for me, oddly enough, John Mayer's press conference. See 3:55. When does cynicism win? His set wasn't bad either. I didn't see a whole lot of it- like the Police, didn't love 'em, loved Kanye West's set, though his star turn with the Police at the end was, er, silly. My brother liked Genisis, but he has a real soft spot for even the "Invisible Touch" Genesis. Other thoughts/highlights/links? One disquieting thought I had- look at just about evey prime time act at every venue- Crowded House, Bon Jovi, Madonna, The Police, even Roger Waters dug up from the grave. Every one at least twenty years into their careers, and most at least ten years past their prime. That doesn't bode well for the music industry. I vaguely remember Live Aid way back when, and one of the striking things was how many (fairly) very current, newly established bands were featured- the Eurythmics, U2, a young Madonna, and a lot I'm forgetting. Where were the likes of them this weekend? Mayer, Kelly (yuk, I can't believe I'm saying this) Clarkson, The Killers, maybe, but I'm not sold, even on my man-crush Mayer. (Don't tell me Fall Out Boy and Shakira, sheesh...) Wasn't somebody willing to take a chance on Arcade Fire, or Esoteric, or some other cool band I don't know yet? That doesn't bode well. Well, at least we had Spinal Tap.

imagining the Home of the Great Oom

My landlord, of all people, unearthed this little gem for me, an Utne article called "Fear of Yoga", a fun little piece about America's slow, uncertain embrace of the phenomenon of yoga through know-nothing nativists, rich housewives, celebrities, and swamis. To wit:

"In the 1920s, when tabloids became part of the journalistic landscape, yoga became part of the tabs' new "love cult" obsession. Reporters found love cults from France ("Rich Worship Love Goddess Along Riviera") to San Francisco ("Orgies of Super-Love Cult Send Five to Jail"). Hearst's New York Journal gave the tabs a run for their money with takeouts like this: "Latest Black Magic Revelations About Nefarious American Love Cults," which included Bernard, who had combined yoga with baseball, vaudeville, and circuses in Nyack, New York, in the process convincing members of the Vanderbilt family to bankroll his efforts."

And my personal favorite:

"(in the 1950s), Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru of India, prompted by Cold War worries, denied reports that his nation would supply the Soviet Union with yogis to help cosmonauts breathe easier in outer space."

The more recent the article gets, the less reliable I find it- it manages not to mention Iyengar or Ram Dass at all, two of the people most responsible for yoga's visibility in the 60's and '70s. (Though Iyengar's pupil Mehudin does get a photo) And it's read of the current scene is a little shallow. But I guess that's not the point. How could it be when you have yogic sex slaves and the great Ooom?

dog days of July

As previously mentioned, it's a very slow month for music in Boston; Scullers is closed, Ryles is closed for a week. But here are a few highlights:

Pick O' the Month: Erik Friedlander @ Lily Pad, 7/18

July 9- Femi Kuti @ Paradise Ballroom
July 10- Mark Zaleski @ Ryles
July 13-14: Ron Carter Trio @ the Regattabar

Of course, there is the Pops at the Hatch Shell tomorrow, and Tanglewood and New York aren't that far away. More as I see 'em...

get me that old-time new-time music

Dan over at SoundSlope on the avant-garde, or the word, anyway. As with most of Dan's writing, it comes highly recommended. It dovetails nicely with a lot of what I've been thinking about lately. Coming soon, really...

Other stuff- it has been widely talked about, but if you haven't read the Washington Post's expose about Emporer Cheney, do your civic duty. Or at least as much of it as you can stomach...

Free summer concerts in Boston ain't what they used to be- I remember growing up hearing Ruth Brown, Jonatha Brooke, Hugh Masekela, Barenaked Ladies, Joe Lovano, Sarah McLaughlin, Brad Mehldau and many others out in the sunshine. Not so much these days. The best series I've seen so far this summer is from local AAA station WBOS. They do a free concert series each Thursday at Copley Place, with the highlight being my current guilty pleasure Fountains of Wayne. Better concert listings coming tomorrow.

Oh, and I linked to it before, and will again, but here's Sonny Rollins and Leonard Cohen. I've been really diggin on this lately.

games of strategy

Briefly, there is a fair bit of buzz this week online about critical sniping aimed at the NYC "downtown scene", namely this piece by David Hajdu parsing John Zorn, and this one complaining about the Vision Festival. (Of course, he left before the Melford set, the one I most wanted to hear myself) Darcy's reviews of the first two nights of Vision are here and here.

But back to Zorn. First, Hajdu is no slouch; he wrote the very well regarded bio of Strayhorn Lush Life. That doesn't make him a avant expert, but it tells me he know something about music, and jazz, and... I respectfully, emphatically disagree with Ted Riechman's take. I don't think Hajdu is saying Zorn is a fraud at all. In fact, I agree with many of the points he makes; Zorn's success is due as much to his grander vision, marketing savvy and breathtaking ability to assemble great units of musicians as it is his abilities as a saxophonist and/or composer. (Shades of Miles Davis, or the arguments about Miles, though frankly I think Miles was a much better, more expressive trumpeter than Zorn an alto player- see below)

Full disclosure: I have little to no knowledge of Zorn's large scale compositions, so I can't really comment on them, or his place on either the current scene or in the larger historical picture. I can comment on the many times I got to see Zorn in New York- with Masada and the Masada String Group, running Cobra, solo and in exceedingly strange duos with various artists including Marc Ribot and Ravi Coltrane. As a player, I think Hajdu's descriptorof Zorn is often apt:

"To the uninitiated, the sounds that Zorn produces may sometimes seem like assaultive noise blurted out arbitrarily. In fact, they are assaultive noise crafted with meticulous care"
I would say it this way: Zorn's range as a player is tremendous, unique, interesting, and often frustratingly monochromatic.

Later in the article, Hajdu hits what I think is the more important, and wider point:

"Zorn is an exceptional artist, without question, because he prizes and seeks exceptionalism above all. This is not to say that he is exceptionally good at his art. What he is good at--so very good as to suggest a kind of genius--is being exceptional. Unfortunately, uniqueness is not an aesthetic value; it is a term of classification. To say that Zorn is one of a kind, as he certainly is, is to ignore the larger matters of his nature as an artist and, more significantly, the nature of his work, much of which is thin and gimmicky, and some of which is elementally corrupt. "

I think the last sentence is FAR too harsh, (and there's a lot of Zorn I don't like). But there is an inherent self contradiction in the music and figure of John Zorn, much of the music going on this week at Vision Fest, and the avant-garde in general. It is very susceptible, in the mind of its artists and its audience, to the fallacy that suffering in the name of art, especially obscure art, is noble and worthy for suffering's own sake. That somehow the art is justifiable specifically because it's obscure, or difficult. (And as Hajdu notes, in Zorn's case this becomes increasingly paradoxical as he wins more and larger grants, commissions and acclaims.) To me, this is almost as silly as measuring music's value by it's place on the Billboard chart.

In reading about and listening to folks who I consider visionaries of the avant-jazz scene- Ornette Coleman, Charlie Haden, and Roscoe Mitchell offhand- I see and hear none of the exceptionalism that Zorn revels in. Marvel at Ornette's recent elliptical Grammy acceptance speech. Quite a ways from "Eat Shit Jazz Snob", now, isn't it? In Roscoe's recent talk at NEC in Boston he mentioned how much of the AACM's early work in Chicago was audience building- finding or inventing venues, concerts and programs for the music they were creating, meeting the audience halfway without diluting the music or its mission. (As Soundslope reports regularly, this work goes on to this day) In many ways, with his label, his club, and his concert and record series, I suppose Zorn does this too. He's just so damn insufferable about it.

The last time I was at the Vision Festival was in '01, when it was still on St. Mark's Place. I don't remember too much, good or bad. I do remember Kidd Jordan was playing, and for someone to be playing so much horn, with such a huge sound at his age and (apparent) frailty was amazing all by itself. (Brian O. shows the same wonder towards some of this year's older musicians; good news indeed) But too often I felt that the music was (as Zorn often is) strange for the sake of being strange, following templates more obscure, but not that far from, a re-bop group muscling its way through "Countdown". (More on this on some forthcoming posts about aesthetics, listening and interaction)

Finally, I am firmly of the opinion that when it comes to discussion and criticism of music, there are no sacred cows. I don't want the above to be read as "hating on" Zorn or Vision; I admire John Zorn greatly, like a lot of his music, and was delighted to hear that the got the MacArthur grant. (And equally delighted by Stephen Colbert's skewering of it) I don't think Hajdu is knocking him down for the sake of knocking him down; this is a serious person taking him seriously, and coming to some harsh conclusions. And at a time when left of center music in many genres is hurting in New York and all over the country, the breadth, scope and apparent box office success of this years Vision Festival is cause for celebration. Serious music deserves serious discussion, even when it's cantankerous.

That wasn't so brief now, was it? But I did get to use the word cantankerous. More later...

Bill Frisell Trio @ the Regattabar, 6/22/07, 10pm

The first review I remember reading of Bill Frisell, probably in 1990 or so, described him as a "mad scientist", mishmahing loopy feedback, disemboweled pop tunes and folky licks. Time and success have certainly mellowed the reaction to Bill's music, but if last night was any indication, it hasn't made it any less accurate. After awkwardly introducing his longtime trio of bassist Tony Scherr and drummer Kenny Wolleson (his attempts at joke-telling before the encore were even more awkward), Frisell set up a series of feedback loops that sounded like crickets tripping on X. Over the course of the evening Frisell came back to variations on these loops, and while this technique is certainly one of his trademarks, they sounded very fresh- he was continually mixing in sounds I'd never heard from him before- not licks, sounds. I'm not enough of a gearhead to know what he was doing, but some of the sounds almost sounded borrowed from analog synths, and mixed with the more "traditional" guitar sounds the effect was delightfully jarring.

After the others joined him in flirting with a free-time version of "When You Wish Upon a Star", Bill thought better of it and ripped into Monk's familiar "Misterioso". The tune set the tone for the evening- the feel was loose, the interaction tight; most of the time it seemed like Tony and Bill were improvising in unison. I guess seven plus years as a band will do that to you. At times the tune had the "equal improvisers" feel of the 60's Bill Evans trio, at others the grunginess of a dive bar rockabilly band. All the tempos- on "Misterioso", a fairly striaghtforward readind of the Delfonics' "La La La Says I Love You" and some of Bill's originals were faster than I expeceted, giving them a slightly manic edge. (By contrast, he played Lee Konitz's "Sub-Conscious-Lee" and its notoriously twisty head right down the middle, and Bill laid out some of the most interesting linear playing I've ever heard from him.) Most of the tunes probably could've ended about three choruses earlier than they did- some of the endings bordered on tasteless- but the band was having so much fun no one seemed to mind.

Visitor from Somewhere

I just bumped into my friend Wes Matthews, who recently graduated from NEC with a masters in composition. (Wes was a Brookmeyer guy when I was there.) As I mentioned last month, Wayne Shorter was on hand at the graduation itself to receive an honorary doctorate. According to Wes, Wayne did not speak, but his pianist and NEC faculty member Danilo Perez did to introduce him. In describing rehearsing with Wayne, Danilo talked about grappling with the instruction "Play that chord with more water."

It reminded me of an anecdote I got third-hand about someone who got to be a fly on the wall for a rehearsal of the Miles quintet of the 60's (Herbie/Wayne/Ron/Tony). The storyteller remembered that, well, the music was amazing, and that all the instructions and conversations about the tunes used only words about color. "It needs more red right there." "Tony, more blue, cmon!" That's the kind of band I want.

Speaking of Wayne, this video has been making the rounds (via rifftides). No date, but I'm guessing early 80's? Wayne, er, showing Scott Hamilton a couple of things in a jam session blues. I have to ask myself, though, who dreamed up a "tenor battle" with Scott Hamilton, Lew Tabakin (so far okay) and Wayne? I can just imagine Miles saying "somebody should take a sign and picket the festival..."

And here we test our powers...

I'm late to the party, but make sure you check out Ethan Iverson's recent 90s blindfold test and commentary over at The Bad Plus blog. Ethan the critic is almost as valuable an asset to the musical community as Ethan the pianist/composer/lovable weirdo. Well, not almost, but he's a damn good critic. I share Ethan's inner schizophrenia on Paul Bley- I keep telling myself I'm going to get to know "Footloose" better, because every time I hear it it blows my head off. But I bought his more recent duo with Kenny Wheeler, which was crap. It was so bad, from such masters, that I was angry for a couple of days. More of my two cents soon... stay tuned.

Right below this post it is a reminder about Guillermo Klein's two week jazz odyssey at the Vanguard. I have to ration my NYC trips this summer, so I think Myra Melford's hit at the Vision Fest will win out. But that's no excuse for you...

Meet me in the Twilight

This month, Jennifer Kimball plays one of her occasional residencies at the Toad in Porter Square Cambridge every Wednesday night this month. I've raved about her in the past, and will probably do so again in the future, so if you're in the general vicinity, get yourself there and see it for yourself. She is the last person in my life to make me cry when it didn't involve someone dying. (That's a good thing.) Even if singer/songwriters are not normally your thing, I can't recommend her highly enough.

The Toad is at 1912 Mass Ave, right near the Porter Square T stop. (Their tap selection is small but excellent) If past experience is any indicator, there will be two sets starting 7:30-ish, but get there early. It's a small place, and gets beyond SRO pretty quickly. I'm going to try to make it tomorrow, but definitely next week.

(FYI, I am slowly starting to recover from the feeling that the whole world landed on my head at my new gig, and will resume fuller blogging very soon.)

Inhale, pause, exhale, pause... pause

I have accepted a promotion at my yoga job, which so far has been a little more than I bargained for. So blogging will slow dramatically until I get my feet under me here. I have a stack of CDs I've picked up in the past month and want to blog about, so maybe some capsule reviews will tide me through.

Oh, the verdict is in on the MySpace contest, and Larrylove wins with the title "Hopscotch". I like it, and it's the only one that came in. So Larry, please send an address and I'll send a copy of the CD to your lovely wife. And thanks to all who listen

Gigs to see, coming up...

June brings to Beantown, well, the struggling New York Yankees, but you probably don't care about that. June is rarely a really hot month for live music here, with schools out and outdoor stuff not yet completely in swing, but there are some strong highlights...

Judy Silvano w/Joe Lovano- "Women's Work" Ryles, 6/5
Either/Orchestra, Lily Pad, 6/6, 6/8, 6/10
Don Byron and Ivey-Divey, Regattabar, 6/8 & 9
Julie Hardy, Ryles, 6/12
JFJO & Club D'Elf, Regattabar, 6/19
Bill Frisell Trio, Regattabar 6/22 & 23 (my review of Frisell's last pass through Boston is here)
Toots Thielsman/Kenny Werner, Scullers, 6/22 & 23
Lou Donaldson, 6/22 & 23
Meshell N'Degeocello at the Paradise, 7/3 (Tues.) I'm not crazy about the new material on her myspace page, but a chance to see the woman is a chance to see the woman.
Tortoise, 7/5, Museum of Fine Arts

Please send me other suggestions, or things I may have overlooked. And, wherever you are, go support live music!