Posts Tagged ‘Mose Allison’

There are contemporary big bands that lean too heavily on the side of tradition and there are contemporary big bands that eschew tradition almost entirely, throwing the jazz baby out with the Basie-water.

Dan Barnett’s sizzling band has always had a (stylishly shod) shoe in both camps – nodding nicely to the history and tradition of the big band while leaving much room for his stellar soloists and adventurous young arrangers; in other words leaving space for Jazz.

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The band has ruled the roost at Balmain’s Unity Hall Hotel forever and Walkin’ Shoes – Barnett’s seventh album – captures all the life and spark of those great gigs and of vocalist/trombonist Barnett’s larger-than-life musical personality.

West Coast Cool is the mood for title track/opener ‘Walkin’ Shoes’– Gerry Mulligan’s purring perambulation – with Barnett leaving the melody behind for some wry rap/vocalese, even name-checking Robert de Castella along the way. Barnett’s vocal is a pleasure, by equal measure Tony Bennett or Mark Murphy, leaning either this way or that depending on the mood. The mood of Kelly Ottoway’s arrangement here is one that would even make Gerry Mulligan crack a rare smile.

The wryness continues in a blazing Tim Oram chart of Mose Allison’s ‘I Don’t Worry About a Thing’ – a song where the lyric response ‘ ‘Cause nothing’s gonna be alright’ pretty much sums up 2016 (the year sadly we lost the amazing Mr Allison). Barnett’s trombone solo here reminds us that he is not only a unique vocalist but a bitchin’ bone man.barnett2

Kelly Ottoway’s cheek-to-cheek arrangement of the lovely Jerome Kern ballad ‘I’m Old Fashioned’ shows the deeply traditional side of the band – the chart uses all the cinematic breadth of colour that only a big band can evoke. No fear of romanticism here.

From ballads to bop. The instrumental ‘Tin Tin Deo’ is a dizzying workout for the band’s Afro-Cuban chops. Growing out of a Greg Royal bass intro through a sharp Peter Locke piano solo, the tune culminates in an Andrew Dickerson (really, who else?) drum workout. A (grooving) highpoint!

French vocalist Tricia Evy lends her satin vocal to a number of tunes on Walkin’ Shoes. From the pure romance of Ellington’s ‘All Too Soon’ to the mambo of ‘Come Rain Or Come Shine’ – the latter teaming with Barnett’s vocal – she lights up each track with her sparkling style.

A surprise is Steve Miller’s ‘Fly Like An Eagle’ – a slice of the other West Coast Cool. Ottoway’s tough, 70s cop-show arrangement pushes the funk element of the band with nicely nasty solos from Bradford Child on tenor and Sam Rollings, guitar.

Tricia Evy takes us out with ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing…’ and ‘They Can’t take That Away From Me’, a perfect American Songbook one-two punch (a lover’s punch, of course). Both classic jazz staples, they are delivered here with freshness and style.

Freshness and style. That is as good a two-word review of Walkin’ Shoes as I can think of. Considering much big band writing – especially big band writing that tackles the classics – can be stodgy and stiflingly reverent, Dan Barnett and his arrangers and band have opened the window and let some fresh air in along with the noises of the street.

 

Walkin’ Shoes is available from Dan’s website – http://www.danbarnett.com.au

 

Published on http://australianjazz.net January 2017

Like both the Blues and modern Jazz before it, the genre of Blues-Rock found its perfect expression in the early 1970’s. Heavied up by British rockers such as Cream’s Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page and the hyperkinetic Jeff Beck, the highly innovative music of Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters and Willie Dixon paved the way for Heavy Metal and all forms of Hard Rock (including, whether they like it or not, Punk Rock).

And, like both the Blues and modern Jazz, Blues-Rock has its evangelists – those artists who, through single-mindedness or outright religious zeal, feel it is their mission to bring the Righteous Word to their hungry flock. US guitar classicist, Joe Bonamassa travels the world, missionary-like, wielding his Les Paul like a fiery cross, his blazing sermons lighting up congregations at all points of the compass.

 

 

 

On October 5, Bonamassa’s church was Sydney’s State Theatre, as gaudily rococo a house of worship as there ever has been. After a wonderful and too-short warm-up by the Wizard of Katoomba, Claude Hay (his one-man band trip would be mere sleight-of-hand if not for his warm and entirely-engaging musicality), Bonamassa sat down with a stool and an acoustic guitar and we were his.

Joined by drummer Tal Bergman on conga set, he took us through covers of Bad Company’s ‘Seagull’ and originals such as the title track to his last album ‘Driving Towards The Daylight’. The acoustic set concluded with some jaw-dropping bluegrass flash which would have shook every guitar player in the audience (and there were many – later in the set Joe B asked us to identify ourselves and a forest of callus-fingered hands shot into the air).

But as sweet and earthy as the acoustic set was, we had come for the Power and the Glory, and when Bonamassa plugged his (signature, no less) Les Paul into an unholy trinity of 100w Marshall amps it was Heaven, of a sort.

Playing through the menacing Zep-blues of ‘Slow Train’ and the funk-noir of the title track to 2011’s excellent ‘Dust Bowl’, Bonamassa delivered the sermon we had heard so many times before, and would rush to hear again for many years to come.

Bonamassa covered all the bases – the gorgeous Gary Moore cover, ‘Midnight Blues’, which showed the subtle, multi-coloured blues voice behind the heavy rocker, and brought to mind the spiritual genius Peter Green, an influence on Gary Moore and Carlos Santana; the worldly Jeff Beck group blues ‘Blues Deluxe’ which featured his vocal, completely underrated and over-shadowed by his guitar-playing, but, like SRV, an integral part of his appeal; the delicious ‘Sloe Gin’, Tim Curry’s boozer-poem and a JB live staple since his 2007 album of the same name.

Bonamassa’s take on Mose Allison’s wry ‘Young Man Blues’ (via The Who) took his road-toughened band into guitar jam territory – with bass player Carmine Rojas trading some toe-to-toe riffage with JB. Electrifying shit, whichever way you slice it.

But it was not all tooth-and-claw blues and spitting Les Paul magma; Bonamassa can be a truly beautiful player, easily putting aside the histrionics and flash for sweet and soulful lines, making his instrument truly ‘sing’ with all the nuance and warmth that that suggests. The long, mountain-misty intro to ‘Mountain Time’, accompanied only by the keyboard strings of Sydney’s own (and JB touring stalwart) Rick Mellick brought to mind Jeff Beck’s more cosmic flights and took us all higher in every sense.

What, of course makes Joe Bonamassa so exciting is that he is part of the long line of electric guitar players – Hendrix, Van Halen, Ritchie Blackmore – who revel in making a great big guitar noise. The encore of ZZ Top’s ‘Just Got Paid’ mixed in all sorts of big fun rock guitar, from its ‘Ain’t Superstitious’ (Jeff Beck) intro to snatches of Billy Cobham’s ‘Stratus’ (a tip of the hat to Tommy Bolin) and huge chunks of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Dazed and Confused’.

To those who wanted a rock guitar masterclass, they got it; to those who wanted unadulterated rock par excellence, they got it; for those (such as your correspondent) who wanted a window into an era when the guitar ruled the known world, they got it. Joe Bonasmassa cannot be beaten, whichever rules he plays under.

 

Photo by John Snelson/Get Shot Magazine

 

Published October 2012 on liveguide.com.au