Posts Tagged ‘Jeremy Rose’

On the first listen to pianist/composer Steve Barry‘s new album – Blueprints and Vignettes – I was so knocked out I made a flippant Facebook post which referred to him as “cosmonaut Steve Barry”.

Many a true word said in jest, as some bard said. Barry is not only a musical cosmonaut in the sense of an intrepid and fearless space explorer, but the universe he explores is largely one of his own making.

Barry Blueprints 1

The new album is a quantum departure from Barry’s previous two acclaimed albums, 2012’s Steve Barry and 2014’s Puzzles. His recent writing has evolved a highly individual and idiosyncratic language that colours the logic of his melodic line. Harmonically he has become even more adventurous, and rhythmically he plays with time and the stretching of time in truly eye and ear-opening ways.

The PR release mentions influences such as Paul Bley and Eliot Carter, but I can hear other musical cosmonauts in there too: Ornette, Bartók, even the spirit of Debussy – magical and hazy round the edges – at times.

Barry has selected some fellow cosmonauts of equal fearlessness and intrepidity for this trip. Jeremy Rose, who seems to spend as much time digging deep into the earth as he does cruising the cosmic breezes, is on alto and bass clarinet. And, after hearing how they breath as one with these tunes, I couldn’t think of a better rhythm section than the masterful Dave Goodman on drums and rising star Max Alduca on double bass. Blueprints+FINAL+#2+1400x1400

The Barry sound is evident from opener ‘Mammoth pt.1’ – a fragmented ensemble line that seems to walk along a swaying tightrope. Pretty soon the group, in the solos, is dancing on that swaying tightrope with sure but light steps. ‘Mammoth pt.2’ which follows, is more meditative and darker, reflecting the yin-yang of the album.

‘Primed’ is also a two-parter: Part 1 has a backdrop of Alduca’s percussive, bowed and scraped bass effects under Rose’s conversational bass clarinet; Part 2 has that slightly giddying sense of stretched time with Barry’s piano stabs under bass and bass clari.

‘Grind’ and album closer ‘#34’ both move across a bed of suggested swing. The melodies have a Monk-ish neo-neo-bop leap and shout to them – the obvious rhythmic paths tug at Goodman and Alduca but they don’t go there, preferring to blaze their own trails. Nice work.

The lovely (and evocatively named) ballad ‘In the crepuscular forest of forked paths’ best serves to bring together the strands of Barry’s parallel interests – it has a dark lyricism and painterly harmony, a jazz approach in the freedom of the improvised sections, and a sense of searching for a new beauty that much of the best 20th century classical music possesses.

Searching for a new beauty. It is what musical cosmonauts do. And, if they are all as lovely, challenging and revealing as Blueprints and Vignettes, I look forward to further Steve Barry communiqués  from the outer reaches of the universe of music.


Blueprints and Vignettes is available from and


With the great number of projects saxophonist and composer Jeremy Rose involves himself with, one could fairly expect his output to be prolific yet patchy. As one who follows Rose’s trajectory and music, I am still waiting to hear any hint of a lapse in quality and vision.

Rose’s most recent release under his own name – rather than with the Vampires, the Strides, the Earshift Orchestra or any of his many other collaborations – is Within & Without. Recorded in Germany and featuring US super-guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, the 10-song album holds up Rose’s impeccable standards without at all veering from his unique creative path.

Rose Within & Without2For an album concerned with themes of “opposing forces of attraction and repulsion, joy and anguish, hope and despair, pain and ecstacy” the music is beautifully cohesive and complete­­. The players – Rose and Rosenwinkel together with German bassist Andreas Lang and drummer Tobias Backhaus, as well as Rose’s long time piano foil, Australian Jackson Harrison – mesh exqusitiely, almost telepathically at times. Rarely does any soloist seem to rise sharply out of the ensemble or blown sections, the band breathing as one.

The album’s compositional cohesion is also a surprise considering Rose’s thematic material, which veers from odes to places (the lovely bijou opener ‘Trawangan’ and the Atlas Mountains drums’n’bass groove of ‘Afensou’) to a quote from a David Bowie song (‘Strange Doors’), to even a zombie-inspired piece (‘Zombie’) – the latter’s pentatonic folk melody really bringing Rosenwinkel to the fore as he plays in and around the simple bones of the tune, always shining, often startling. Rose Within & Without1

There is also the sweetly Monk-ish melancholy of Rose’s tribute to the dear departed Charlie Haden in ‘Ballad for Charlie’. Album closer, a take on the Australian bush ballad ‘Flash Jack from Gundagai’ – with its hints of the children’s rhyme ‘Incy Wincy Spider’ – (‘Flashjack’) is set over a 6/8 Afro-latin groove, allowing the Germans, American and Australians to get some simmering heat going.

I asked Rose a half-dozen questions, leading up to the launch of Within & Without over June and July.


John Hardaker: Within & Without, which features Kurt Rosenwinkel, follows hot on the heels of The Vampires’ (which you co-lead with Nick Garbett) album with guitarist Lionel Loueke. What is it about guitarists?

Jeremy Rose: I love guitar, it has the ability to convey an incredibly rich range of textures and sounds, and has a history of amazing players. However, when I choose collaborators, it is often based on the individual: Lionel Loueke and Kurt Rosenwinkel are both unique voices on their instruments, and aesthetically, I felt they were a great match for the respective projects I was working with.


JH: The ensemble works superbly. How did you come to pick the players on the album?

JR: I have worked with pianist Jackson Harrison for many years now, on my Sand Lines album, and with Compass Quartet, on Oneirology. I had worked with Berlin based drummer Tobias Backhaus before, as I have been going back and forth to Berlin for the past few years also and had performed at Jazzahead with him in the Vampires. Bassist Andreas Lang was recommended by Tobias.


JH: What led you to playing an adaptation of the Australian bush ballad, ‘Flash Jack (from Gundagai)”?

JR: As part of my research for composing my Iron in the Blood (out on ABC Jazz), I found an excellent source of Australian folk songs, a few of which I arranged and adapted throughout the work. Flashjack was one that I liked but didn’t use for the project and thought it would work well on this album.


JH: Many of your pieces reflect or are inspired by your travels and adventures around the world. You are also one of our most prolific musicians, spreading your energies over many projects, with rarely a lapse in quality or direction. You appear quite restless, even driven. Is that a fair call?

JR: Yes I am driven, but grateful that I have had many opportunities and mentors to guide me along the way. I also very much love what I do, and so am incredibly lucky to be following my passion.


JH: What next for you?

JR: I am undertaking a residency at the OMI International Arts Centre in New York in August. Also planning some more touring with The Vampires in Europe.


JH: What are your thoughts on contemporary music in general – and Jazz in particular?

JR: Contemporary music is continuing to break down the barriers between styles and genres. Some of the most exciting music is happening on the borders of these known styles; collaborations between unexpected musicians, genres, and artforms.


Within & Without is available at

Within & Without tour dates: 16 June, Unorthodox Church of Groove, Newcastle; 17 June, Sound Lounge, Sydney; 16 July, Jazz Lab, Melbourne





I am so glad they called this collaboration The Vampires Meet Lionel Loueke, using ‘meet’ rather than the ‘and’ – which suggests two parts less than their sum – or the amicably adversarial The Vampires Vs. Lionel Loueke, as is used often in hip-hop.

I am glad because this new collaboration between one of the jazz world’s most innovative and joyful musicians, guitarist Lionel Loueke, and The Vampires, our genre busting and straddling national treasure is a meeting in the truest sense.

A meeting of minds; a meeting of souls, and all of which that implies: both entities bring their unique voices to the mix and The Vampires Meet Lionel Loueke is the Venn overlap of this meeting.

Vampires Loueke 2

Maybe it is because both Loueke, and Jeremy Rose and Nick Garbett’s Vampires have much in common, both the Berklee-via-Benin guitarist and the Australian ensemble having arrived, through artistic convergence at a beautifully sympathetic musical place: world music flavours, fusions of genre and innovation within those flavours.

Album opener and album closer are two versions of Rose’s ‘Endings and Beginnings’, the first a Moorish take on the melody and the latter more African – beautiful bookends that bracket a feast of Afro-jazz, reggae, on-the-one funk and some Mwandishi space-blowing.

The rhythm section of Jon Zwartz on bass, with Danny Fischer on drums and Alex Masso on drums and percussion, maintains a warm-blooded percussive bed throughout – bubbling up here, flowing like brown river rapids there: check the rippling 6/8 of ‘Suck A Seed’ and the momentum-rush of ‘Brand New’. Vampires Loueke 1

Rose and Garbett’s compositions are a perfect fit for Loueke to work his magic across and their playing seems as inspired as ever, working around Loueke’s guitar colours and brightly imaginative comping. Garbett’s echo-laden trumpet solos and snap-funky lines are a joy. Rose once again surprises with his Ornettey approach and the human-ness of his playing. The guitar/voice and alto opening of ‘Brand New’ is a conversation between friends, complete with secrets and a chuckle or two at an in-joke.

Herbie Hancock, with whom Lionel Loueke has worked, refers to him as a ‘musical painter’. True, his playing approach seems more concerned with colours and textures than fleet soloing. He plays inside the music, deep inside, and uses everything about his instrument to paint his pictures and hatch in his textures: he scats with his guitar lines, he rubs dissonance against the melody, he utilises some surprisingly radical electronics with surprisingly human results. His playing across this album has the mark of a master innovator and a relentlessly restless spirit.

Playing with the Vampires on this album has pulled some startling performances out of Loueke and, in kind, the band rise to his fire – one catches oneself thinking they sound the best they ever have; then you realise the Vampires always sound this good.

The Vampires Meet Lionel Loueke, is a meeting of many things – inspirations, approach, attitude and musical vision. But the glue that binds this fortuitous meeting is respect. You can hear it.

We do hope they meet again.

Album available thru

Cameron Undy’s new Twentieth Century Dog album, Bone, has left this reviewer speechless. Which is quite a feat in itself.

The only honest review I could give is “Go listen.” But my pen, once unsheathed, needs to talk, so talk it shall.

Listening to the remarkable improvisations that make up the ten tracks on Bone, I see not a group of separate musicians but a single organism – a big body with waving arms and heads – a Dog of Seven Heads. Surely this music cannot come from separate consciousnesses, even of those consciousnesses are as hyper-conscious as Simon Barker and Jamie Cameron and Ben Kidson on drums and percussion, Jeremy Rose on reeds, Greg Coffin on keys, Ben Hauptmann on guitar, and leader, composer, producer Cameron Undy on barking, growling bass.


The presser says these pieces are made up out of long buried ideas “dug up, buried in the yard, dug up again” over the ten years that Undy focused his energies on his iconic jazz room, Surry Hills’ Venue 505. These ideas shape the grooves and basic motifs of the improvisations, and also form ensemble sections that rise out of the music and then are gone as soon as they came.

The Dog is big on rhythm too – with two drummers and a percussionist, as well as having a bass-player as leader, it is inevitable that there will be grooves of all flavours, and rhythm games running through the music like pulsing veins. Funk, Afro-beat, jazz: all booty-shaking but mind-bending at the same time.

‘Tail of the Dragon’s’ melodic pass-the-parcel leads to some big-fun messing with time, its play extending into the band comping behind Coffin’s solo, then behind, in and around Rose’s solo. ‘Dog Day’ is taut funk which Ben Hauptmann nips and tugs at until it is reshaped in his image. ‘Bone’ conjure’s the same skull-grinning space-griots as Herbie Hancock’s Mwandishi band. bone1

‘Broken Creak’ applies Broken-beat to some serious funk: the drummers slip in and out of sync with each other, like a musical moiré-pattern moving in and out of focus. Undy’s bass solo here is muscular and propulsive while Coffin’s soul-gospel piano passage moves against the lagging drums like a sermon that will not be denied.

Bone was recorded live at Venue 505 over two days in late 2016. The live recording brings so much out in the band (have I said before there is a strong argument at all jazz should be recorded live?), giving the album an in-the-moment electricity that charges the air.

It is not all funk and zap though; the three short interlude pieces – ‘Anagram’, ‘Sunrise’ and ‘Constellation’ – are welcome breathers from the tropical storm of Bone. Rose’s bass clarinet on the latter is particularly affecting, singing a folk-like song of universal longing.

Final track, the long workout ‘Bust Down_Parallelism’, captures everything that is good and real about Bone and Twentieth Century Dog. An almost endlessly inventive Hauptmann solo rises to a boil that bursts like a summer storm, washing away to a half-dark duskscape, only to rise through a percussion conversation into Jeremy Rose’s strutting tenor solo. Composition/improvisation. Magic While U Wait. It’s what the Dog does so well.

Ok, I will shut up now. Go listen to Bone.


Bone is available from Earshift Music – http://earshift


Published on January 2017

The first time I really heard altoist/composer Jeremy Rose was on a side stage at a Darling Harbour Jazz Festival (remember them?) a few years back. He was leading a lean, raw-boned quartet with – I think – trumpeter Eamon Dilworth, but I couldn’t be sure.

What I can be sure of was that I stayed for his whole set, ignoring the main stage for the duration. And, since then, I have kept an ear out for whatever Jeremy Rose is doing.

And I have always been intrigued, amazed, challenged and – to be frank – totally gassed by his restless artistic nature and his consistently questing music, both as a composer and as a soloist.

Through the bony reggae of The Strides, to the funk-Ornettey grooves of The Vampires, to the moody chamber jazz of The Compass Quartet and on to his many other projects, Rose’s pluralistic musical vision has always taken me to some interesting and strangely bejewelled places.

pic: karen steains

pic: karen steains

His latest – with his Quartet – is ‘Sand Lines’. It is a delight to hear Rose back in the arms of (almost) straight-ahead Jazz – an added delight is to hear him rocking so sweet and heavy in those arms.

Opener, the title track ‘Sand Lines’, has Rose’s silvery soprano leading over a staggered ensemble section until the band climbs into a swing section – Rose’s solo breaks into a grin that won’t stop. His soprano tone and playing has the gift that Wayne Shorter has – the ‘eastern’ nasal inflection, a joy of Trane’s sound, is replaced by a roundness and warmth, with those big-throated, round notes opening the tone at just the right points.

Pianist Jackson Harrison glitters like an heirloom diamond in his solo on the ‘Sand Lines’ track. Barefoot drummer James Waples and Rose’s fellow-Vampire, bassist Alex Boneham, push the performance with a combination of grin and sweat. The vibe set up by the energy of the ‘Sand Lines’ track sets the tone for the rest of this rich and tasty album.

Guest Carl Morgan adds his guitar to ‘The Long Way Home’ – Rose’s languid memory of childhood drives through the Australian bush – his snaking solo winding in and out of the background melody fragments.

Morgan also appears on ‘Precipice’ – the tune’s shape a perfect example of Rose’s compositional ability to blur melody and improvisation (in effect, ‘head’ and heart) into a seamless skin. Quite lovely.Jeremy-Rose Sand-Lines_Cover

‘Mind Over Matter’ is Rose’s tribute to the dear and sadly departed David Ades, his mentor, mate and fellow surf-dog. The piece dances in a joyful place, rising and falling as if buoyed by surf currents, summoning Ade’s bright life-lust in primary colours. Harrison’s solo here is particularly sharp – rhythmic play with melodic curves curving around each other in new shapes.

The album’s standout to me is ‘Hegemony’. It is a half-lit ballad that exists on the same shadow-theatre stage as Miles Davis’ ‘Blue in Green’ and shares with Miles’ and Bill Evans’ iconic piece a melodic ambiguity which the musicians build on to deep effect. Alex Boneham’s measured and lovely bass solo takes this already twilight piece into even darker waters, wading thru the indigo.

After nailing such a sharp and intense Jazz album, I am sure we will lose the restless Rose now to his next project – of indeterminant genre – but whatever it is I know I will want to be on his listeners list. Jeremy, you have my number.

Published December 2015 on

The cover of the new Strides album The Youth, The Rich & The Fake shows an Indian sadhu (white and red painted face and festooned topknot as befits your local holy man) taking a nice deep drag on a chillum of (i would say) potent bhung. If you want to know how the gentlemen is feeling, all you have to do is step inside and let the Strides be your guide.

Australia’s premier proponents of reggae and dancehall, the 8-piece Strides have released their best yet in The Youth, The Rich & The Fake, their thirdThe band is already bristling with championship musicians, rappers and singers, and for the new one they have added guests to the party such as soul sister Ngaiire and Sierra Leonean ragga man Blacker Conteh.


Across the twelve tracks they spread their message, their virtuosity and many moods, yet without ever losing the roots(-reggae) of what they do so well. The variety and scope is wide as a Barbados beach, yet all are lit by the same sunshine. The easy reggae of ‘History’ with the sinewy horns of Jeremy Rose and Nick Garbett to the fore; the smooth croon of frontman, reggae master Ras Roni, over ‘Murawina’; the clipped ska of ‘Wizard’, with its suggestion of Horace Silver‘s ‘Song For My Father’ under it all; the mellow yet tough dub of ‘One for One’, the sort of dark groove that Fat Freddy’s Drop do so well; the sunny hymn to Jah’s love, ‘One Heart’; so many moods.

Hip-hop flavours add sweet-and-sour to ‘No Drama’ (shades of Slim Shady) and closer ‘Rude Boys’, rapper Ltl Gzeus’ joy-of-sex rap over a spooky funk reggae chug. Ngaire’s two features, ‘Rasta Live’ and especially ‘One for One’ are warm and smooth as skin.


Standout track ‘Arnhem Land’ shows alto saxist Rose and piano player Danny Pliner stretch out on their jazz chops: Rose’s solo climbs like a snake or like a vine seeking sunlight at the top of the jungle; Pliner’s piano solo goes some dissonant places that would even make our Indian holy man sit up and take notice.

Worked up at Campbelltown’s Art Centre in gritty Western Sydney and recorded in a Byron Bay rainforest studio (U-Live), The Youth, The Rich & The Fake is a unique and uplifting statement of reggae music by one of our – and one of the World’s – best.


Published March 2015 on

A dubby fanfare from Jeremy Rose and Nick Garbett and we are off into the new Vampires album, Tiro – into that unique Vampires place where Ornette Coleman jams at Black Ark, while New York traffic snarls by outside and Bondi surf laps at our (tapping) toes.

The said dubby fanfare introduces Rose’s ‘Mandala’, an upbeat slice of reggae-jazz that is reminiscent of the UP vibe of their last (wonderful) album, Garfish.

But that vibe is a touch misleading – overall Tiro is more blues, more downbeat and definitely (maybe not but maybe because of the blues) more truly beautiful (define that!) than Garfish. It is a leap, horizontally and vertically, from that 2012 album; the band and the compositions widening and deepening as any great band does as it evolves.


Garbett’s ‘Palau’ follows – a churchy NOLA blues that reminds us why we love the Vampires so much – as with Ornette, the piano-less, astringent sound reveals such poetry: funny how less voices make for more poetry. We fill in the gaps from our own experience and it hits us in the gut.

Rose’s ‘Pseudoscience’ is the most Ornette-y track here – over an Alex Boneham ostinato, Rose and Garbett weave and duck and feint and jab almost telepathically. The later track, ‘Colombiana’ also kicks nicely over Boneham’s Fender bass with Garbett’s heavily reverbed solo recalling the lightning sparkle and shimmer of electric Miles. Drummer/percussionist Alex Masso jumps right out at you here, snapping shots and accents all around the frantic funk of the two-horn melody.

The blue mood returns for Rose’s ‘Beautiful Decay’ before the first of two ingenious remixes in collaboration with Paul Bromley at Brisbane’s Tanuki Lounge Studios, ‘Tiro-Tanuki remix’ – 0:49 of the title track tipped at a surreal angle. The second remix is ‘Mandala-Tanuki remix’, a beautifully reverb-heavy dub take on the opening track in 1:27. The remixes are a nice touch and, as well as reminding us of the roots of The Vampires’ music, serve to lighten the mood with some fun and spacey atmosphere.

There is a liner note from Nick Garbett for Tiro’s final track ‘Brother Sykes’, a dedication to a friend lost at sea, the brother of the title. ‘Brother Sykes’ – maybe because it is suffused with such emotive rawness – is the standout here: building from a muffled drumbeat – a muted but merciless hammer of grief – the twinned clarinet-trumpet melody winds its sorrow around its own heart, squeezing it and then stopping when it hurts too bad to trickle away on a limpid melodic downcurve. Then it starts again…MadCds 2 outer pocket 4 P gatefold wallet

The band play around each other here, as if conversing, exchanging their grief – the feeling is one of a wake, funereal and puffed-out. It is a nod to the complete musicianship of Alex Boneham that the bass dominates here, expressing so much in answer to the gray-blues and watery mauves thrown at him by Rose and Garbett. All seems to happen underwater, beneath a heavy lid of mortality.

‘Brother Sykes’ finishes in an unresolved cadence, unsatisfying, hanging there – just as their good friend’s life and possibility was cut too short. It is a remarkable piece of music and a true expression of what great music can be – sadly overlooked in too many jazz releases in favour of clever-clever – a mirror on life, and us, and our path through it all.

‘Brother Sykes’ is a remarkable piece of music on a remarkable album – ‘Tiro’ is The Vampires fourth and doubtless best. It will be exciting to see where Rose, Garbett, Boneham and Masso go next. Long may they run.

Published October 2103 on