Steves Gigs

Rants

2010-07-11T16:03:00.000-07:00

MUSIC...WHAT'S IN A NAME?

Some musings on the conflict of terms, meanings and consequences of the postmodern generic usage of the word music. By Steve Brien.

Music, what a busy word- Programmed music, music industry, MTV (Music Television), live music, music CD’s , Music DVD, Computer Music, Ring Tones in the top twenty. “Music” rains down on us from broadcast media like digital confetti, anesthetizing the brains of shoppers, whipping halftime football crowds into excitement and heralding the start of your favorite TV show.

In an age where the recorded medium has become so cheap and available and the advertising resources of the “music businesses” integrated with everything from Coke to Time Magazine, does the word "MUSIC" lend authenticity to the dazzling array of visual sound hype promoted by McMusic Inc? Or is music a generic term of which two subgroups are live music and recorded music?

If we are to take the view that music is a generic term, which has as sub-categories live and recorded, then there is an implication that each category has the same intrinsic value. While it is quite clear that this is not the case (live performance has “cultural” weight as well as being expensive to hire), those in the corporate music “business” have a vested interest in ensuring the public’s perception of the word music is that of a commodity, a shallow product of millions of copies with the original “artist” being only available on TV media as a mega celebrity (in some cases the “artist” exists as an animation).

Art and finance seem to some critics to be becoming more and more closely related as the distinctions between high and popular culture disappear and artists become mass media stars in their own right.[1][1]

The noun music has a complex etymology. The usage of the word up until the advent of recorded media (roughly 70 years ago) involved the notion of a “temporal” art which once performed dwelt only in the imagination of the audience. The noun music which at one time only described a fleeting act, vanishing once played, has passed into postmodern usage as a by word for all facets of listening experience. It is therefore thought of by current society as the description of a commodity. On the other hand, does the word music carry with it emotion specific cognitive response? In this capacity, music is a sub-category of the noun Art, the branch of art that along with Drama unfolds and rings emotion with its brief existence. So there are clearly two ways of thinking of the word music, when performed live it takes on the introspective and imagination based aspect of the noun art , once recorded it takes on the finance inspired dimension of the noun commodity.

The experience of listening to a live performance of say, a chamber orchestra, a jazz group or rock band is clearly a different experience to that of listening to a recording facilitated by pushing the button of your stereo or the unfortunate subjection to “music” when you are put on hold on the telephone. There is a different level of cultural commitment needed to make the trip from your home to the music venue (or indeed to hire musicians to play at your house) compared to the on/off ease of playing your stereo. There appears to be a conflict in terms when the language used to describe the beauty of a fleeting moment of musical intimacy is the same language used to describe the commodity of the midi induced agony of a ring-tone.

Language specific to emotional experience is in place when it comes to the other great temporal artistic medium of society, Drama. For example, the language difference between: “I’m going to the Theatre.” and “I’m going to the cinema.” The former conveys the message that a stage production will be the subject of the evening, the latter suggests that a movie will be seen. Both may be wonderful experiences, however they are different experiences. Theatre being the temporal artistic experience, cinema the commodity based media experience.

If you go to a theater and capture the drama on a movie camera, the subsequent replay is called film. If you buy a print of an Arthur Streeton, it’s called a print and there is nothing that will ever make it a painting. Recorded music is called music (particularly by those with a vested interest in mass reproduction and sale of the product) while those who perform music have to qualify the act by calling it live music. Could it be that the temporal and fleeting aspect of live performance needs to enshrined in the language and that the word music only be used when referring to live performance? This would mean that once recorded, a different word would be used to describe that commodity based listening experience.

It may be argued that a recording is simply an extension of the musician’s persona, captured on disk so that the performance can be reproduced and distributed to a much greater audience than he/she would otherwise have. This is a kind of “where do I start and where do I end?” approach. For some recorded music this may be so, however, this is a little precious when it can be said that the recording industry has served first to impose American cultural imperialism internationally and secondly to drive home the advantage by shaping popular culture in a vast, cynical, lowest common de-money maker- media monopoly. Societies used to have their own “folk music”, their own “cultures” for crying out loud… when was the last time you heard traditional Chinese music coming out of a karaoke bar in Chinatown?

It can be argued that the unbridled commercial proliferation of recorded media has led to a disintegration of cultural uniqueness that leads to cultivation of traditional values and folk music. Bella Bartok, in his book Hungarian Folk Music, wrote:

Peasants who people one geographic unit, living close to one another and speaking the same language, this tendency to alter in consequence of the affinities, between the mental dispositions of the individuals works in one way, in the same general direction. It is thus that the birth of a homogenous style becomes possible.[2][2]

It is said that about 60% of any language is body language and that the full impact of oratory cannot be grasped unless you are in the room while it is being delivered. This sentiment can be directly applied to music. The full impact any performance can only be achieved when you are experiencing it at the venue. Witnessing first hand the performance by a musician or group, a social occasion with its sights, sounds and smells, lends a sensory dimension to the listening experience that cannot be achieved any other way. It is possible today to imagine someone growing up never experiencing live music and not making the connection between what they hear on the broadcast media and someone actually performing. It is a great pity that the “keep music live” and the “music manned not canned” protests of the 70’s failed to register on the public…well…what you sow, so shall you reap. The indignation of the public was rampant when they found out Milli Vanilli were not actually singing their pop hit in the 80’s, this of course was the thin end of the wedge for the recorded medium, the protesting died down as the big money poured in, now digital counterfeit is free to roam the airwaves and cyberspace at will…it goes unchecked…while we sleep.

So let’s look at what recording music means. Over the past thirty years advances in technology have vastly changed the industry. In recording jazz, processing comes in a myriad of digital enhancement. Hours are spent getting the sound of each instrument just right, EQ, reverb, headphone mix etc and often the band members are in separate rooms so that parts can be overdubbed later to fix mistakes. Then the usual course is to do several takes of each song with the idea that the best take is chosen for the CD. Sometimes an amalgamation of takes is needed, for instance if the ending of a take is screwed up, the engineer can digitally match up one of the other endings…cut and paste has become a common tool. Vocalists or soloists can re-do vocal tracks or solos till they get something they’re happy with.

After recording comes the mixing. This is where the engineer and producer get the right balance between the instruments, right EQ, compression to shrink the wave file and make the recording sound good on all stereos, in short, getting the thing to pressing level.

In other musical genres the processing takes an even higher profile; drum machines and sequenced bass parts (programmed and computer generated) lay down a rhythm track then layers of what ever the artist wants is placed over the top. If the singer has trouble pitching notes they can be brought in tune later with the pitch adjuster (Milli Vanilli could have used one of these), if the band has trouble playing in time they can play to a click track. Digital media can be slowed down or sped up without changing the pitch. In other words the enhancement available is endless.

In 1980 I recorded with a band I was playing with at the time called “Risk”. Clive Harrison (Bass player and band leader) had organized US pianist Chick Corea to play on the recording (Chick was in Australia on tour). As Chick’s tour schedule conflicted with our recording times, we put down our rhythm parts and solos, leaving space for Chick to come in at a later date and record his solos. The result was a good album “Once Bitten” (vinyl) with all of us on the cover and credits… but the fact is, I never met Chick.

I’m not suggesting that Clive was trying to deceive anyone, as this kind of recording is common, however the line blurring of fact and fiction for commercial purpose is an insidious mistress. When ex convict James Frey released his self described non-fiction book “A Million Little Pieces” recently, talk show host Oprah eagerly promoted the book, mistakenly thinking that if it’s published, it must be true… Wrong. A shattered Oprah a few weeks later had to inform her public that Frey had fabricated large sections. The unnerving aspect to this was the revelation that the publishing house did no factual research on the book prior to release and that this seems to be endemic in the industry…if it looks like making money, who cares if it’s true or not!

Photoshop has allowed a new generation of college and high school students to “touch up” their college yearbook photographs, adding muscles where there aren’t any; breasts, hair, smiles & perfect teeth, just so that in thirty years time they can confidently show off their old year book and not be embarrassed by a picture of a pimply geek staring back at them. Who cares if that person never existed, it makes them feel good. The old adage that “A picture tells a thousand words” may need to be revamped to “A picture may tell a thousand lies”.

My point here is that there is a disturbing trend in current society, fueled by the fast buck ethos of commercialism, that record keeping whatever the form, need not be honest and truthful if all parties agree and for the common- wealth of all concerned… and the public doesn’t seem to care…this is known as Moral Relativism.

“We have now moved into an epoch...where truth is entirely a product of consensus values”[3][3]

Our media, conscious of the form shifting of postmodern thought, can be seen actually condoning this current condition.

Writers and journalists are leading the purist attack on Frey’s blurring of the facts. They’re strictly right, of course. But how self- righteous can we be in a world that worships “reality” TV, relativism and subjective reporting? How many other memoirs distort the truth without detection.[4][4]

The aspect of postmodern society under threat through relativism is the body of human knowledge. In the field of music, knowledge is obtained through induction (knowledge based on observation) and deduction (knowledge based on analysis). Where does our culture stand if in the future, converging evidence yielding empirical knowledge of recorded music is based on media that has been enhanced, modified and processed so as to be a misrepresentation of the artists’ true contribution.

From an education point of view, institutions that rely on public funding have an uphill battle promoting the cultural worth of teaching the temporal artistic performance aspect of music in the face of a government directed by the interests of corporations determined to advance the notion to the public that music is simply a commodity. This can be seen for example in the bizarre laws that govern places of entertainment such as clubs and hotels in NSW where no licensing is required for broadcast media and yet it is against the law to take out a guitar and play it!

The time has come for the public to repossess the word music through usage by using it only when describing live performance and finding another word to describe the commodity experience.

My word (or rather three words) to be used in place of the word music, when describing the recorded medium is Electronic Processed Media or EPM. This simple demarcation in the language goes a long way to preserving the truth of musical performance in contrast to the digitally manipulated and processed, commodity based EPM experience.

It would thus enable society to rationalize the tidal wave of commercial EPM being pedaled to the public, including the so called composer sitting at a computer mixing sound bites ripped from disparate recordings, with no thought to harmony or keys, creating the sonic version of a car wreck, thereby producing a montage set to a digital beat to be played at dance raves. The deception is transparent when referred to as EPM but not if referred to as music.

You may at this point be tempted to think that this is a matter of semantics. What difference does it make if we call something a recording, CD or EPM ?…people know the difference between live and recorded music. Well, the public don’t actually want to think about the recording process and how it works anymore than they want to know what goes into meat pies, raising chickens for KFC or the maintenance stats of a low budget airline. They hear the record and call it music, blissfully unaware of the tradeoff of truth that the misuse of language is creating.

The danger here is produced by what is assumed standard according to the nature of the medium.Postmodernism insists that all mediums have equal intrinsic value, thus leading to a confusion in the publics' mind as to the line of demarkation according to different mediums standards. It’s possible for a bank teller to inadvertently take a prize winning photo on his way home from work (on his minute digital camera), of a subject that may have eluded a professional photographer all his life. But it would be impossible for the bank teller to whip out an easel and paint an equally prize winning portrait on his way home. That same bank teller might return home and spend the night creating sound montages on his computer, that he sells on the internet (as music) having never learned an instrument. It goes without saying that it would be impossible for the bank teller to go to the local jazz club and sit in with a bebop band (or any band for that matter) the two mediums are entirely different. The manipulation of recorded media is tantamount to the brilliant analogy proposed by Simon Blackburn in Truth, a Guide For the Perplexed in regard to postmodernism as firing arrows at a barn wall, then painting in the bulls eyes.

A refinement of the language would rely on all who understand the importance of this being vigilant in their usage and encouraging friends and students to do the same. We would become word nazis unfortunately, however, this would be a short-lived generational process until the usage gains a foothold. …What’s in a name? That which we call music by any other name, would sound as sweet… and there I go altering the past.

Steve Brien

Lecturer in Jazz Studies N.S.W. Conservatorium of Music.

[1] Simon Malpas, The Postmodern;2005 Routledge Pub, pg 22

[2] Bella Bartok- Hungarian Folk Music, trans: M C Calvocoressi: (New York: oxford University press 1931) pp2-3

[4] Jean Baudrillard; Norris 1990: 169

[4] Susan Wyndam-undercover column, SMH Sectrum 28/1/06 Pg 19

Anecdotes

2010-07-06T21:16:00.000-07:00

ANECDOTES

LOVELY SUN RA

This story is an old one around the Sydney jazz scene. I don’t remember who told me the story or even the exact details, but it goes something like this:

It must have been in the 70’s when aussie piano player/arranger Mick Kenny was in LA doing some hanging out & checking out some clubs & bands. Now Mick in those days was a laconic, bearded character, who’s eyes betrayed the glazed look of the permanently stoned.

Mick fetched up at a club one night to catch Sun Ra do his thing and was knocked out with the band. They finished the set and as Sun Ra walked past the table where Mick was seated, Mick couldn’t contain himself and had to say something. As their eyes met, Mick’s Aussie drawl compliment caused Sun Ra to raise his eyebrows…..“Lovely Son!” he said and raised his beer in salute.

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THE BBQ.

Many years ago Jazz bass player Deiter Voight had just returned to Australia from visiting relatives in Switzerland. Having grown up in Switzerland, Deiter spoke and still speaks English with a strong Swiss accent. He decided to throw a BBQ at his place to catch up with his mates and celebrate the warm summer he’d just come back to.

He and a couple of mates went to the local butcher shop and began stocking up on meat. They bought 20k of steaks, 35k of sausages, 15k of rissoles…and as the butcher was tallying up the bill, he inadvertently commented… "having a big barbie mate?”

Deiter’s reply was his usual deadpan dry genius… "No, ve are buildink a cow…”

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MUTINY ON THE QEII

Back in 1982 I was part of the Morrison Brothers Big Bad Band. We received a booking to play a concert on the Queen Elizabeth II while it was docked at the old overseas passenger terminal in the Rocks. The call was for 6pm and when we assembled in the ballroom of the ship, the entertainment promoter for the QEII, one Bartholomew John, (usually a land locked club performer) advised us that there had been a mistake and that we weren’t required ‘till 7:30. He gave us his room number and said to go to the bar and charge some drinks & relax ‘till we were needed. Now this was an 18 pc band…jazz band…what was he thinking? The guys proceeded to order bottles of Moet, Scotch…beers and indulge in other things not on the menu…until the prescribed time.

It’s amazing how pissed 18 guys can get in an hour and a half, but we found our way back to the ballroom where we were given the running order. We were to play a set and then, because the stage had no wings, we were to sit in our seats or on the floor just off the stage (a small riser about a foot off the deck) while classical pianist Roger Woodward played a piece of about 5min duration. Our piano player was Bobby Ghebert, who had taken the advice to “relax” to another level and was visibly unsteady on his feet. Bob was supposed to get off the piano stool at the end of our set, take his music and walk to the side, to allow Roger to sit at the piano.

We careened through our set, and when we finished Glen Hendrich (vibes) and me sat off to the side of the stage… Glen in front of me…just below the piano stool. We looked up and Bob hadn’t moved. He was sitting, looking at his music with a big grin on his face as though he couldn’t believe he’d just negotiated those charts (Bob always played great in spite of…well…anything) . James was on the other side of the band …. "psst.. Bob…come on man…get off the stand” Bob suddenly realized what was happening and got up, walked around the front of the band, got halfway, realized he’d left his charts and turned back …got his charts off the piano, turned around again and walked straight into Woodward…and dropped the charts. You must remember that the audience were sitting watching all of this from about three meters away and there now was a spotlight on Bobs frantic gathering of sheets of music. Unfazed, Woodward swept to the piano and with a flourish pulled the stool back and made to sit down. Now remember that Glen & I were sitting under the piano stool, off stage. We watched in horror as one leg of the stool came off the riser…quick as a flash, Glen (who is a large man) jammed his foot, heel down with his toe under the leg of the stool just in time to get the full weight of Woodward as he sat down…and proceeded to launch straight into his piece. I watched on while Glen stoically kept the performance aloft (literally) with his left foot . By the time Roger reached the crescendo, beads of sweat were running freely from Glens’ face. The final chord, thunderous applause, Woodward stood and made his exit, Glen extracted the foot and began massaging life back into it…jeez Glen, that was above & beyond the call man..

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THE NAKED LESSON

I enter this anecdote with no intended disrespect to the party involved.

My Monday morning impro class at the Con is a constant source of humor…the students are often jaded from a big weekend, half asleep…you know…Mondayitis.

On a Monday a few years ago I had in my class the talented blind piano player Scott Ericson. Scott was running late and arrived at class sporting a heavy sweater as it was winter, found his way to the piano (which I was sitting next to) , groped for the lid, opened it and played a few chords. He suddenly realized it was hot in the room, so he began to take off his sweater. As the sweater came up his shirt came up too and was nearly over his head when I said … “Yeah Scott man, you may as well get naked….we all are…”

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LONG DISTANCE AUDIENCE

In '90 I was in Interlaken Switzerland with the James Morrison band. We had played a concert one night & the next morning I wondered into the breakfast room at the hotel we were staying in, piled up some continental on a plate, spotted the sound guy from the night before and sat down next him. He was a local with the heavy accent on his English:

“ That James Morrrison plays goot trombone… " he offered, spooning grapes onto his musli.

“ Yeah” I agreed

“ I play the trombone” he passed me the look..you know…I’m a cat too, not just a sound guy.

“Oh Yeah, that’s cool.” I murmered, wedging ham into a roll.

Wishing to offer further particulars of his career, he said,

“ I used to play Alpenhorn…but I stopped…is not goot for concert…”

“Why is that ?” I inquired

“The audience has to be a lonk way off”

“ How far?”

“About 20 kilometer”…

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I read today in the paper a book review on a book written by Abe Saffron’s son Alan. Having played the Cross during the 70’s when Abe ran the place (Paradise Jazz Cellar was one of his joints) I was taken by this anecdote of Abe in the review:

And then there was Frank Sinatra. Saffron and a partner brought him out for a tour in ’59 & put him up at the Chevron. Saffron, who was notoriously mean, became troubled by Sinatra’s expenses, especially his huge phone bill, and went to Sinatras room to plead for moderation.

“This” Alan notes “was one of the few times where my father was laughed at and told to get lost, in a few choice words to the effect of …’Fuck you Abie baby’ “

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KEEP YOUR DAYJOB

Great jazz drummer Barry Stewart told me this one ages ago.

Barry was working a club with the incredible Ricky May one night and the regular bass player had sent in a deputy who, while reasonably competent was not a professional player. The bass player struggled through the first set and when the band took a break, Ricky said to Barry… “Who is that bass player?”

“Oh don’t be too hard on him Ricky…he’s a panel beater by day” Barry confessed.

Ricky eyed the bass player over his shoulder…

“And by night!”..

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Legendary drummer Len Barnard's one line review of John Sangster's book-

"It's the kind of book that when you put it down...you can't pick it up"

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DANGER-MEN AT WORK

Bebop vocalist Giacomo Gates told me this one. He was booked to play a gig with guitarist Joe Beck and when he arrived at the venue, Joe was on the bandstand setting up his amp. There was a grand piano on the stand and a guy with a prosthetic arm was tuning it. As Giacomo approached Joe, Joe nodded toward the piano tuner and quietly said.. “ Jeez, I didn’t know piano tuning was such a dangerous gig…”

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GIMME SHELTER

In 1979 thru ‘81 the Jamie Abersold Jazz clinics came to Australia & did one week summer workshops in each capital. They were brilliant clinics where we were able to be tutored by people like: Dave Leibmann, Freddy Hubbard, John Schofield and Adam Nusbaum. One year our ensemble teacher was the one and only Hal Galper. We had a great ensemble with Dale Barlow- tenor , Shmoe.. a tenor player from Adelaide, Paul Macnamurra on piano, Clive Harrison- bass, me on guitar, and Mark Reilly on drums (Mark was a dynamite drummer and the rising star of the scene when he was killed in a motorbike accident in about ’83) and he had just bought the newly invented bass drum pedal with two beaters (Billy Cobham had made them famous). Mark had prodigious technique and he could get a drum roll happening on the bass drum while he plastered independent rudiments over the top.

We were going thru a standard & swapping 8’s with the drums. Mark was wailing…a veritable blur behind his kit…bass drum sounding like a pneumatic drill, bits of drumstick flying about…suddenly Galper runs over in front of the drums eyes bulging (Hals' eyes can look a little “Marty Feldman” at times) holding up his hands and yelling for Mark to stop. The drums ground to a halt… Mark looked up at Galper who was obviously trying to contain himself. Glaring at Mark he stammered…. “What the fuck are you trying to do man? MAKE IT RAIN!”

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PRESSING ON

The dear old press from time to time, tear themselves away from the hum and the drum and use their headlines to trumpet something decidedly hip. I'll never forget buying the "Herald" recently and being eager to read the article entitled " FELONIOUS MONK". Apparently the cops had arrested some fraudulent monk...I can just see the editor rubbing his hands together thinking..."I've been waiting my whole life to use this headline!"...

And what about the celebrated classic in the London times years ago when John Major was the UK Prime Minister. The Group of Seven (now Eight) or G7 had met in Europe and made a resolution to meet with John Major. The next morning The Times had splashed across the front page..." G7 RESOLVES TO SEE MAJOR"

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GETTING OFF LIGHTLY

In the early eighties I was part of a social cricket team that boasted many of Sydney’s jazz musicians. Warwick (Wacka) Alder, Dave Pudney, Jay Stewart, Willy Qua and myself were in the regular line up known locally as the “Thrill seekers” .

One night after a particularly big win the celebrations ended at a party thrown by one of the team members. Warwick and myself were sitting in the kitchen enjoying some ales. Just across from us a character known to me as a local rugby player was busy “chatting up” a girl and as part of his technique removed his shirt, revealing an Arnold Schwarzenegger type torso. Warwick immediately started to deride the guy to the effect of “ ahh put on yer shirt mate!” “like yer muscles” that sort of thing…not a good idea. The rugby player took offence and suddenly grabbed Wacka by the throat.. I got in between them and tried to pour water on the situation by saying “ Don’t hit him mate…he’s a trumpet player” The rugby player cooled down, let go of Wacka and went back to chatting, consoling himself with the odd murderous glance in Wacka’s direction.

Wacka was still giving the guy lip so I hustled him up and got him out the back door to go home. To get to the street we had to walk down a side path beside the house. As we passed the kitchen door, it suddenly swung open revealing the rugby player brandishing a fire extinguisher. Laughing madly he turned it on Wacka…who held his hands over his head and ended up laying on the ground while rugby gleefully covered him with white foam from head to toe. The extinguisher ran out and rugby disappeared back inside leaving me to pick up Wacka. I got him to his feet and started to wipe off the foam… “Look at that” Wacka was pointing at the ground. I looked down and there, like a police imprinting of a fatality, was Wackas’ outline on the footpath…I still think he got off lightly.

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Horst Leopold, Ex German, one time manager of the Galapagos Duck, part owner of “The Basement” and in later years “Sweet Basil” in New York, was quoted as saying in the 70’s (when his grasp of English was tenuous) :

“People think I know fuck nothing about jazz…but I tell you…I know FUCK ALL!”

His other famous line was when the Duck met Queen Elisabeth. Being introduced to Horst, their manager, the Queen decided that she would extract a bit of information from him about the band.

QE: “ I say, what kind of music do these fellows play?”

HL: “ Baby they shvink unt Grooff their asses off”

2010-07-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

21/7/2008 - CD REVIEWS/ SALES / TRANSCRIPTION SALES

Product Description:
Steve Brien is described by James Morrison as "a jazz guitarist second to none". This CD is Steve’s first CD and was recorded in New York with some of that city’s finest and a couple of expat Aussies. Personnel include Dale Barlow, Allen Simon, Joel Forbes, Tom Bailey, Ralph La Lama, Dave Panichi and Mark Templeton. Rolling Stone said, "Token Entry is firmly positioned within the bebop tradition... the playing is consistently professional." The Mercury said, "A mainstream outing that’s equal to the best being done these days."

Tracks:
CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) - Tin Tin Deo - Angel Eyes - Token Entry - Lenore - You Stepped Out Of A Dream - Blueish

Album: Token Entry
Artist: Steve Brien
Genre: Jazz

This album compiles two New York recording sessions from 1994 and 1995. One features a fellow Aussie, tenor saxman Dale Barlow, and the other hard bop tenor Ralph Lalama and trombonist Dave Panichi. Regardless of which group is playing, this album is laid-back, straight-ahead bop-influenced jazz. Nothing gets too excitable here, as both groups recall Blue Note sessions of the '60s with the likes of Hank Mobley, Ike Quebec, and Grant Green. Barlow's tenor has more of a bite to it than Lalama's, but their ideas about the music coincide in a no-nonsense, let's-not-lose-sight-of-the-melody manner. Both provide a framework for Brien to work with his clean-cut, relaxed guitar. On Jimmy Heath's "C.T.A.," Brien embarks on a long solo where he effectively ad libs, but never moves far from his low-key, thinking man's approach to the guitar. Every nook and cranny of the Earl Brent/Matt Dennis tune "Angel Eyes" is explored during a ten-minute workout, which has a soulful Barlow sax solo with Brien comping underneath. The Lalama sessions have the extra added attraction of some solid bop trombone playing by Panichi, which he uses effectively on "Blueish," one of the two compositions by the bass player on the set, Joel Forbes. The other, "Lenore," is the stage for Lalama's major sax solo. This is a fine album of melodic, laid-back, understated jazz and is recommended. ~ Dave Nathan, All Music Guide

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BUY "TOKEN ENTRY" CONTACT ME ON THE CONTACT PAGE. ALSO IF YOU WOULD LIKE A FOLIO OF TRANSCRIPTIONS OF DALE'S SAXOPHONE SOLOS OFF "TOKEN ENTRY" AGAIN - CONTACT PAGE.....CHEERS, STEVE

"TOKEN ENTRY" - $20 AUD + POSTAGE

TRANSCRIPTIONS- $20 AUD + POSTAGE

A recent review of "The Larry Young/ Jimmy Smith Project Live" -Darren Heinrich-

here's a review by Garry Lee, from the Jazz Guitar Society of Western
Australia

In Australia there have been few organ combos – Col Nolan with
guitarist/vocalist Johnny Nicol used to make a great pairing in the
early 1970s in Sydney and saxophonist Paul Williamson has a led a
Hammond combo with guitarists Doug DeVries, Steve Magnussun and Shane
Ryall have recorded for Melbourneʼs Newmarket label.A new CD by Sydney
organist Darren Heinrich with guitarist Steve Brien and drummer Andrew
Dickeson is a most welcome addition to the OGD tradition. Titled The
Jimmy Smith/Larry Young Project LIVE there is some great playing by each
member of the trio joined by trumpet and sax on Woody Shawʼs Zoltan – a
tribute to Hungarian classical composer Zoltan Kodaly that was
originally featured on Larry Youngʼs Unity album from 1965.Perth JGSWA
members may recall that I arranged for Steve Brien to come here in 1999
for a performance at Uni of WA. He also jammed with several of us at
Cafe Sol. Steveʼs sound on this recording is superb and at times

reminiscent of Peter Bernstein with Larry Goldings. However Steve digs
deeper into the groove than Bernstein who often gives the impression of
floating over the time. This is a great OGD CD and was recorded live at
the Music Cafe, Sydney Conservatorium of Music, 13 June 2006.

A Night in Tunisia – Luny tune – Road Song
[OGD] – When Johnny Comes Marching Home – Zoltan – The Buckeye Blues -
Ritha

To purchase "The Larry Young /Jimmy Smith Project" email: dazzjazz@dazzjazz.com
Web: www.dazzjazz.com

Garry Lee

Gigs

2010-07-06T16:49:00.000-07:00

CATCH STEVE ON 89.7 FM EASTSIDE RADIO
FRIDAYS AT 9:00- 10:30 am, HOSTING JAZZ BROADCAST " SOMETHING'S COOKIN'"

Friday Dec 24 2011

SQUARE WAFFLE LUMEAH W/ THE JAZZ PROFFESSIONALS 7-11 pm

Sat December 31 NYE

SQUARE WAFFLE LUMEAH W/ THE JAZZ PROFFESSIONALS 8-12

Sat 14th Jan 2012

505 CLUB CLEVELAND ST CITY- JAZZ GROOVE SUMMER FEST W THE WARWICK ALDER QUINTET, FROM 7.30PM.

Sun 26th July 2012

MONTROSE BERRY FARM- ORMOND ST SUTTON FORREST NSW- CONCERT W/ DI BIRD & FRIENDS, FROM 12PM