Great, But Consider The Alternative...

The Washington Post has a story today (free registration is required) about the death of the "smooth jazz" radio format.

While I'm happy to hear less Kenny G, Najee and company on the airwaves, I can't help but fear that what will replace them will be even worse.

I particularly like the G-Man's quote about the possibility of listeners discovering Charlie Parker through him. Yes, but Kenny, although Bird would like that, it won't do much for your future record sales.

Kurt Rosenwinkel At Bat

I know a lot of music reviewers who ignore the public relations material that accompanies new releases, but you never know what insights you might find there.

Like this from guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, being quoted about his experiences with Verve Records (his new double live CD is being released by ArtistShare):

"I am grateful to have had the support of a great label like Verve, but I am also looking forward to not having to pay for CEO salaries, Times Square office space, Blackberrys and expense accounts with my record sales."

RIP Dennis Irwin

Very sad news about the passing of bassist Dennis Irwin.

John Scofield's group with Irwin and Bill Stewart was one of my very favourites, as was Matt Wilson's Arts & Crafts.

Ethan Iverson has some thoughtful comments on Do The Math.

Seminal Listening

I'm not sure what spurred this post, except perhaps my Portland discovery of Frank Tirro's Jazz: A History, mentioned earlier. My mention of that during a panel discussion prompted fellow panelist, Bad Plus pianist Ethan Iverson to probe deeper about books that spur our further exploration of jazz at an early age.

That spun into further thinking about the seminal discs that ignited my interest in jazz when I was solidly settled into a life in rock music.

In the early '60s, my father had a habit of playing LPs back-to-back on Sunday mornings. There was something exotic about this, perhaps because it revealed a much different side of my civil servant dad who did the dutiful 9-to-5 during the week. He displayed fairly catholic tastes during these listening sessions — spinning everything from my brothers' Elvis Presley and Kingston Trio records to original cast recordings of Broadway musicals. What caught my ear most were discs by Bennie Goodman (especially one with Charlie Christian on guitar), Duke Ellington and Tommy Dorsey.

My own listening at this time was running toward bad-boy rock: electric Dylan, early Rolling Stones, The Byrds.

Jazz went on hold in the mid-'60s, but burst back in when a friend brought over a Charlie Parker LP. I dug back through my father's collection and discovered a great little recording called Two Of A Mind by Gerry Mulligan and Paul Desmond, and Wes Montgomery's California Dreaming. By this time I was deep into guitar rock, especially Hendrix and the Allman Brothers Band, so I was wide open to discovering John McLaughlin, which immediately led to Miles Davis' Live-Evil, Bitches Brew and Jack Johnson.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

Now Spinning

Okay... enough winter! With more snow than these parts have seen in 17 years (it's official) and another 20 inches apparently on the way this weekend, that's enough. Daylight savings time starts Sunday. So does March Break. Just go!

If ever there was a winter recording, Jane Ira Bloom's aptly named Mental Weather is it. There are swirls of sound — furious enough to be the soundtrack for the stuff flying outside my window. Icy tones. And enough deep emotion to remind you that we will survive to see another spring.

Oh, yeah, and Matt Wilson, too. Great stuff.

Full review is forthcoming in the June DownBeat. June! Yeah, like that's going to be here anytime soon.

Props for 'Q'

I don't often praise my native country's public broadcaster for its jazz coverage, which has shrivelled considerably over the years, but one program — the midday entertainment program Q — is doing some cool stuff.

A couple of weeks ago, host Jian Ghomeshi featured a well-produced interview with Ornette Coleman, and today Chick Corea talked and played in the studio. His interview section ranged from Miles Davis to Stevie Wonder to how Scientology informs his approach to collaboration, and his four-minute improvisation on what he called "this old dog" of a piano was a sublime little encapsulation of his various styles.

Q podcasts all of its shows, so check it out.

Fighting the Apocalypse

Some days it's hard to maintain faith that the music industry will survive in any recognizable form.

It was bad enough — a joke, really — to learn that one of the major labels is hiring the mean-spirited gossip-monger who calls himself Perez Hilton as a talent consultant. Now, news comes that No Depression — a magazine that focuses on alt-country music is folding after its May issue.

Whether or not you like Steve Earle, Wilco and Emmylou Harris (I do), this is very bad news. Peter Blackstock and Grant Alden, the founders of No Depression, were serious music journalists from the old school. It wasn't unusual for them to publish 5,000-word articles on artists, and to treat the music of people like Earle, Harris and others as art that forms an important part of the dialogue of American social life.

As both a writer and a fan, I'll miss No Depression and mourn the continuing shift toward the abyss for the music industry.

Teo Macero, 1925-2008

The great producer Teo Macero leaves a legacy of enduring studio creations done in collaboration with Miles Davis. The editing work he accomplished in the pre-digital age of razor-blade-and-tape is nothing short of stunning.

Teo could come off as something of a braggart, and there was a time when his claims of co-creation of some of Davis' best recordings rubbed me the wrong way, but once the original studio tapes surfaced, the quality of his art became clear.

He was something of a hero because of the vehemence of his hatred toward what the recording industry has become. No one matched the venom he could pour fourth toward the "fucking lawyers" he saw running his former employer: Columbia Records.

He was also a great storyteller, with terrific tales of life at the centre of the jazz business in the 1950s and '60s. "The first thing I'd do when I got to work," he said, "was to draw $100 in cash out of the treasury, because you'd wind up running into Duke or Miles and taking them to lunch."

The Power Of The New

During a panel discussion about the future of jazz on Saturday morning at the Portland Jazz Festival I made a point about keeping your ears — and other senses — open to new sounds. It's a lesson that the great producer Teo Macero once passed on to me — a lesson he learned from working with everyone from Duke Ellington to Vernon Reid.

I've already recounted the conversation I had with a young-ish music fan who was seated beside me on Sunday afternoon for her first Cecil Taylor performance, and her excitement after what I regarded as a fairly average show by Taylor.

After I returned home I received an email from one of my oldest friends, who had just seen Ornette Coleman in Vancouver. My friend has always been a music fan, but he's not what I would call a rabid jazz listener. Nevertheless, he was knocked out by Coleman's performance, despite the fact that the saxophonist is now 77 and not playing with the best band he's ever had.

Time to renew my faith in those lessons about open ears. It's too easy to become jaded when you're exposed to a lot of music; sometimes you have to hear things through the ears of others to refresh your own senses.

Andrew D'Angelo

Sending strength and hope to saxophonist Andrew D'Angelo....

As he reports on his blog, the news is not good, but many people I'm talking with this weekend are channeling all kinds of positive energy to him.

Grammy Thoughts

Awards presented by organizations like the National Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences being what they are, I don't usually put too much stock in the Grammys — although it's always nice when someone like Ornette Coleman is recognized like he was last year. That said, the online "dialogue" following last night's awards presentation is fascinating for the level of vitriol, subtle racism and outright stupidity directed at award winners like Amy Winehouse, Herbie Hancock and Kanye West. If you need an indication of why the music industry is in such a mess, you need look no further than the polarization in evidence on sites ranging from Canada's national newspaper, the Globe and Mail to the mud-slinging Perez Hilton and celebrity-gawking TMZ.

"Who the fuck is Herbie Hancock?" is one of the more intelligent remarks aimed at the pianist who has dominated the jazz world since the mid-'60s — despite the fact that his Grammy-winning recording is more pop than jazz, with contributions by popular singers like Norah Jones and Corinne Bailey-Rae.

Most of the insults hurled at Hancock came from those who were upset that he blocked the troubled British soul singer Amy Winehouse from a sweep of the six categories in which she was nominated. At the opposite end of the spectrum are those who seem to be whipped into a frenzy by Winehouse's beehive hairdo, tattoos and much-publicized drug habit. That latter peccadillo draws some particularly ironic insults. People hurl terms like "crack whore" around like Winehouse was the first musician to have a habit.

As for Kanye ("We live here now") West, you have to feel for a guy who has to shush the musicians in the orchestra pit to get in a few words about his late mother, but his boasts about his Grammy prowess wear a little thin after awhile. You might think his grief would take the edge off his braggadocio for a few months — apparently not. The best line of the night definitely goes to country singer Vince Gill, who quickly recovered from what seemed like genuine awe at getting his award from Ringo Starr to ask West if the rapper had ever received a Grammy from a Beatle.

Remembering Lenny Breau

Next to a Duke Ellington short that I saw when I was about seven, guitarist Lenny Breau was the first jazz musician I saw on TV. In the mid-'60s, when shows like Shindig and Hullabaloo were in vogue in the U.S., the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation launched a series of after-school music shows from different cities. For a lot of us, that was our first look at up-and-coming artists like Joni Mitchell, Gordon Lightfoot and The Guess Who.

Once a week, the show originated in Winnipeg — hometown of Neil Young and the fledgling Guess Who — and one segment was always devoted to Breau's guitar wizardry. He was just moving between his devotion to Chet Atkins and his enthrallment with Bill Evans, and still not so far into his drug addiction that he'd lost contact with his audience. His touch was magic, and his musical conception like nothing in my imagination.

Breau — who was murdered in Los Angeles in 1984 at the age of 43 — still fascinates people, and not just guitarists. Ottawa actor Pierre Brault, who has made his name writing and performing one-man plays, will debut a new play about Breau this April at the Great Canadian Theatre Company in Ottawa. With luck, it will tour after its initial run here.

The March issue of DownBeat includes my article about the play, but here's a longer, unedited version of what's in the magazine.

# # #


By James Hale

“I might not end up making a million bucks, but I’d like to be known as the guy who started this movement,” said guitarist Lenny Breau.

It’s unlikely Breau made anything approaching $1 million, and where he ended up was dead at the bottom of a swimming pool at 43 – the victim of an unsolved murder. But, among jazz guitarists, Breau’s advanced use of artificial harmonics and ability to weave counter-melodies together is legendary.

“It’s like there’s a secret society of the guys who love his work,” said Toronto-based guitarist Michael Occhipinti. “We’ve all taken something from what he developed.”

“Any one aspect of Breau’s technique would be enough to build a career around,” added Los Angeles guitarist Skip Heller. “He conceived of things on the guitar that no one had done – the ideal combination of imagination and technical skill.”

Separately, both compared Breau’s revolutionary approach to Glenn Gould’s, and Heller made one more historical allusion: “Hearing him play is like watching Houdini get out of a trunk.”

While Breau’s innovations have kept him on the minds of guitarists, his name is virtually unknown by others 23 years after his death.

Canadian actor Pierre Brault is looking to re-connect Breau’s spirit to audiences with a one-man play, 5 O’Clock Bells, that opens this April in Ottawa and may tour beyond that initial run.

“I think Lenny’s story is a tremendously engaging human story,” said Brault, who has garnered rave reviews for previous solo shows – portraying a convicted political assassin and an art forger. In 5 O’Clock Bells, he plays seven characters from Breau’s life, which the actor relates to the seven strings on his subject’s custom-made instrument.

“Together, these voices – people like his mother, his father, Chet Atkins and others who cared for him – will resonate to create Lenny’s voice. He wasn’t an eloquent man in any way except through his instrument, so I’m trying to create that instrument through the seven voices. They’re the strings of his life.”

Like one of the Bill Evans piano ballads Breau loved, the play will follow an impressionistic path to cover the details of its subject’s life: Born to country performers Hal “Lone Pine” Breau and Betty Cody on the road in rural Maine in 1941. Recording debut (entitled Boy Wonder) at 15. Settled in Winnipeg at 16. Switched to playing jazz at 18. Frequent TV performances across Canada and the U.S. Championed by Atkins and given a major-label contract in the late ‘60s. A ghostly, long slide through sustained drug abuse, punctuated by the occasional brilliant reappearance, until a sudden – albeit not unexpected – death notice.

“I had Lenny in the play as a character at first,” said Brault, “but I realized that he couldn’t tell us anything more than his music already does. The big challenge in writing this play is getting the audience to appreciate what a genius he was without having the other characters keep saying, ‘Wow, you’re a genius.’ In the end, it’s not the details that audiences care about; it’s the human emotion that drives a play forward.”

Although Brault plays guitar, he knew from the play’s inception that he could not pull off the illusion of re-creating Breau’s ambidextrous legerdemain, yet music must play an integral role. So he turned to guitarist Paul Bourdeau, a Carleton University music professor and musical magpie who has mastered Breau’s techniques. At a workshop session in October, Brault, Bourdeau and the play’s director, Brian Quirt, worked through the script, identifying where musical cues – some ersatz Merle Travis, some Atkins, Barney Kessel, Indian ragas – would help illuminate the story.

In the end, though, Brault feels the play itself is a kind of musical expression.

“I always try to reduce my plays to a single word to really know that I’ve captured the essence of the person, and with Lenny that word is ‘harmony.’ He was a beautiful flower of a man who never wanted to hurt anyone; that’s why he couldn’t turn away anyone who wanted to buy him a drink or get him high. He was constantly trying to find the overtone – the harmony – in everything he did. My goal is that when the audience sees how he affected these seven people I inhabit they’ll hear the true note of who Lenny Breau was.”

It's Your Health, Stupid

Sad news today that saxophonist Andrew D'Angelo is undergoing emergency brain surgery after suffering a seizure last week and being diagnosed with a large — and hopefully benign — brain tumor. Like so many other musicians in the U.S., D'Angelo has no health insurance, and colleagues are pulling together an effort to raise money to pay for his medical expenses. See the BBS post at JazzHouse for more information on that.

As a Canadian, I know better than to get involved in the politics of another country, but when, oh when, will America leave the rest of the world alone and look after its own citizens? The fact that millions of Americans still view socialized medicine as un-American just baffles. Sure, it's a commie-inspired idea until it's your liver, heart, brain — or your kid's — on the line.

Recent reading — Alex Ross' The Rest Is Noise, David Halberstam's The Fifties and Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States — has illuminated America's obsession with socialism in the wake of WW II and Roosevelt's New Deal. That this unhealthy paranoia continues to affect working people in the country today is troubling. The fact that no one aside from Hillary Rodham Clinton is talking about healthcare on the campaign trail is more troubling.

Now Spinning

As a Canadian writing about jazz for U.S.-based publications I often get asked what the "scene" is like here, and who is making interesting music (in fact, there is an entire column of reviews of new Canadian CDs by me in the current issue of DownBeat). It's difficult to describe the scene without talking about Canada's defining "two solitudes," and at that point I usually see my American friends' eyes glazing over. But how else can you explain why Jean Derome, and in particular his quintet Les Dangereux Zhoms, are not known throughout Canada as the best band in the land? Their new CD To Continue is their first new recording in a decade, and it reminds me what a terrific group this is. Aside from Derome's expressive writing and playing — primarily on alto here — the band has the great Tom Walsh on trombone and Pierre Tanguay, who I think is one of the most exciting drummers in the music anywhere.

Perhaps the best thing about Derome's music, though, is that it is part of the tradition, yet distinct from music that would have been made anywhere but in Quebec. It is hard to pinpoint the distinctive regional features — it is in Derome's humour, in his fascination with language, and in a certain outsider's perspective that shines through.

If there was one recording that I'd want American listeners to hear so they might reach a better understanding of the diversity of improvised music here, this might be it.

Idolator and Another New Model

The second annual Idolator poll results are now up, if your tastes extend beyond jazz to other sounds.

Record labels aren't the only arts distribution systems looking for a new model to deal with the Digital Age. Yesterday's mail brought a review copy of a new book by Kabir Sehgal, a guy I met in the audience at the Columbia University jazz criticism conference last fall.

Sehgal's book explores the connections between jazz and democracy, which is interesting enough, but what caught my eye was the fact that the book is the first published by a company called Better World Books, which professes to be "making a positive social impact" by embedding a "social royalty" in each of its books. The company also promises authors better rights and royalty agreements, which are both long overdue.

I haven't cracked the book yet (too busy digging Joshua Ferris' novel Then We Came To The End), but this marketing concept is worth watching.

Changing The Model

Among the usual doom and gloom one finds at music conventions these days, one music industry guy who was anything but down at last week's IAJE conference in Toronto was Ricky Schultz, former jazz exec at Warner Bros. and MCA. He's about to launch a new "label" — a term he hesitates to use — called Resonance, which is attempting to help create a new model for music distribution.

For starters, Resonance is a non-profit, so right away you know we're not talking about the old cash-grab model of record companies. Secondly, they're looking at a mix of soft and hard copy distribution, which is a nice hedge given that not everybody is willing to deal only with the fidelity loss associated with even the best-quality downloads.

Only time will tell, of course, but with all the whining I've heard since I started attending IAJE events five years ago, it's nice to hear someone — anyone — spinning some optimism.

Good Intentions & IAJE

It never fails: I start off an IAJE convention with the idea of keeping things in perspective, and as soon as I step onto the conference site — downtown Toronto this time — I get swept up into the swirl of panel discussions, hallway conversations and gigs. By the time I get back to my hotel, I'm bagged. The absence of wireless connections in the meeting rooms resulted in no blog entries. Ah, well, let's review...

Despite living in the same province, I seldom get to Toronto, so from my perspective I might as well be in New York or San Francisco; it takes me a minute to get my bearings. No better place to jump into the Toronto scene than at the venerable Rex, which is where I landed Wednesday night for a set by guitarist Joel Harrison's band, featuring Dave Binney. The band sounded a bit disconnected, and Harrison confirmed a couple of days later that it was far from their best gig. Still, a nice hang and a chance to catch up with a couple of folks like transplanted Canadian bassist Chris Tarry and his terrific guitarist Pete McCann.

Aside from my own panels on jazz in the digital age — moderated by Howard Mandel and including me, guitarist Tim Posgate and pianist Andy Milne — and the annual Jazz Journalists Association workshop for aspiring writers, one of the things on my agenda was a panel on blogging with Carl Wilson, Darcy James Argue, David Ryshpan and David Adler. Lots of interesting talk there, although it seemed like a room full of converts, with not much obvious attendance from those who should be there (those people were at other panels or in the bar, fretting over how to deal with the digital age — get over it!). Perhaps the best thing to come out of it was some promising movement towards publicizing jazz bloggers and driving some traffic thanks to the initiative of DL Media (big thanks, Matt).

One topic at the blog panel was the approach bloggers take in their writing — does one take less "care" in writing in this medium than in print. I don't think you should, but what do I know; sometimes I mess up in both media. On that note, my apologies go out to saxophonist Jane Bunnett, trumpeter Larry Cramer and the rest of the folks at the Art of Jazz Festival for writing in the pages of Coda that the big band that backed Carla Bley last summer was a "pick up" group. No offence meant, guys.

One of the focal points at this year's north-of-the-border IAJE conference was a salute to Oscar Peterson — developed before his death on December 23. In addition to the planned tribute, Toronto was buzzing with news of a free memorial tribute at Roy Thomson Hall, featuring Herbie Hancock, Quincy Jones, Nancy Wilson, Canada's Governor-General and others. People lined up outside the venue for up to 12 hours — a nice tribute in itself. For my money, though, I wish someone had marshalled a few of the Canadian pianists at the conference — including Milne, Oliver Jones, John Stetch and Bill King — for a musical tribute that would have illustrated OP's legacy in this country, and how it has impacted the contemporary world of jazz. Milne, Ryshpan, Stetch and everyone else who studied with or was influenced by Peterson have taken his "lessons" into different areas.

Another focus throughout the conference — though obviously not an "official" one — was the reality that some parts of the IAJE conference model are not transferable outside New York City. Long before the conference, there was grumbling in the jazz community about the strong Canadian dollar, the hassle of international travel and the lack of critical jazz mass in Toronto, and that only intensified during conversations in the corridors and over dinners. The last time the conference was in Toronto, it was a curiosity; this time, attendance was markedly down (one trade show exhibitor I talked to estimated that about half the number who pass his booth at an NYC IAJE conference were around this time). What does that mean for next year's event in Seattle? Again, the curiosity factor will be there, but will that outweigh high airfares to the northwest and the fact that Seattle doesn't begin to approach New York, LA or Toronto in scope or scale?

Toronto — If You Didn't Know

Just in case anyone in the vicinity of Toronto does NOT know: January 9 marks the beginning of the annual International Association of Jazz Education conference, which moves back to Toronto this year after several years' absence.

Even if you are not in the business and willing to part with the (hefty) registration fee, IAJE brings a wealth of jazz events to town. Look for bigger-than-usual names from New York City and further afield guesting or sitting in at venues around town, and for venues that don't always present jazz to be jazzing full blast.

For those not near Toronto, I'll be trying to blog at semi-regular intervals — WiFi connections permitting.

And if you are at the conference, and spot me among the thousands of delegates, be sure to say hi.

The Polls Toll

If you're not tired yet of year-end lists, jazz writer Francis Davis has parsed the votes of 57 of his peers in an insightful article called "The Year of the Woman" in this week's Village Voice.

You can also have a look at the individual ballots. Mine differs slightly from the one posted here since Davis asked voters to break out reissues/historical releases into a separate category. The Voice jazz poll also differs from many of the other year-end lists by asking voters to specify choices for vocal, Latin and debut recordings. Personally, I love that latter category, since it's a great opportunity to check out new talent. No surprise, drummer Tyshawn Sorey captured the category for 2007's audacious double-CD.

Great Pianist, Not So Great Personality

Given the fact that his death was announced at mid-day on Christmas Eve and quickly overshadowed by news of the assassination of Benazir Bhutto, it's possible that Oscar Peterson didn't get the coverage that might otherwise have been his due. Here in Canada, the accolades went on for hours on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. Again, hard to judge what might've been the case had it not been the day before Christmas. I was surprised to see that an obituary I wrote so many years ago that I don't even have a digital copy of it was given extensive play in one of our national newspapers. Again, luck of the draw when most people have already headed home for the holidays.

In the obit I alluded to Peterson's tetchy personality, and his demands to be treated like a celebrity. Ironically, a number of other tributes noted that Peterson was a gentle giant from Montreal who was reluctant to move onto the world stage when impresario Norman Granz came calling in the late '40s. If Oscar was humble then, he sure learned how to be a royal pain later in life. He was too much the gentleman -- and too much in control of his public persona -- to ever insult an entire nation, but I'm sure he could've taught Keith Jarrett a thing or two about being a prima donna.

The stories of Peterson's demands for the star treatment are legendary -- there are at least three instances concerning promotions here in Ottawa (one of which drove a local company into bankruptcy) so one can only assume that he left damage like that in other places, too. My own experience dates to my years as a board member with the Ottawa International Jazz Festival. In my time there we booked some big names, including Ornette Coleman, Wynton Marsalis and Sonny Rollins, but Peterson was the only one who demanded a limousine be put at his disposal for the entire time he was in town. We ran on a ridiculously small budget, so that put a major dent in our finances. The fact that the limo caught fire while ferrying Peterson the short distance between his hotel and the concert venue is one of those stories that keep those of us who were involved with the event laughing.

For an artist who was lauded loudly in the press through six decades, Peterson was curmudgeonly when it came to jazz journalists. The last time that the International Association of Jazz Education held its annual conference in Toronto Peterson excoriated critics -- who make up a sizeable portion of the conference's attendees -- during a keynote address. Nice guy!

I couldn't help but laugh when I saw the juxtaposition in my obituary between a typically sour quote by Miles Davis about Peterson's ability to improvise and a Peterson quote saying that he didn't take criticism to heart because it never came from a fellow musician. I wish I could remember if I set that up, or if an editor did that, but I like to think it's payback for that limo ride.