The Ecstatic Kaleidophone

Tortoise + Cluster, Royal Festival Hall, London Jazz Festival, Sunday 22nd November 2009

Well what a treat and a half this inspired bit of programming from the jazz festival looked to be, and sure enough it didn't disappoint. I've been a big fan of both of these bands for a good few years. I was a krautrocker in my teens (and still am), so I've been up for a bit of Cluster since then. I picked up on Tortoise from my London days and have seen them three or four times, but not for a few years. I was actually quite surprised to see them playing such a big venue as the Festival Hall.

Via the wonders of Spotify I'd been able to check out Cluster's first record in over a decade, 'Qua' before the gig. Whilst Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Dieter Moebius aren't exactly breaking new ground here, it is a fine record. With a combined age of over 140, there's a certain regal charm to their presence on the stage, but somehow the music they produced tonight didn't quite seem to grab me. Given the sound Cluster make, I'm certain its lack of impact wasn't helped by the low volume and constant distraction of having people walking past going in and out. The Festival Hall wouldn't allow this for classical concerts and most of the other jazz concerts, and I think the same respect should have been given to Cluster. Tortoise shuffled onto the stage to join them for last ten minutes which was a nice respectful touch.

The mutual respect was returned after the break when Cluster joined Tortoise for a short ambient jam before the set started proper. With our ambience quotas boosted, it was time for a kick, and Tortoise did the job with an incendiary version of 'High Class Slim Came Floatin' In' from their new record, 'Beacons of Ancestorship'. It's all there in this track, the twin drum driving groove, the square-on-the-beat arpeggiations, all topped off with a gorgeously fat moog lead line. Two changes of tempo, and we're into a surging Stereolab metronomic powerhouse ending much reminiscent of the anthemic 'French Disco'.

The centre stage twin drumming is a key part of the Tortoise sound, and one they make work so well. Drum duties are shared more or less equally by John McEntire, Dan Bitney and John Herndon, with the deep groove pulse being at the heart of many of the tracks. It works brilliantly on everything from the packing case thrash of 'Northern Something' to the narcotic shambling haze of 'Monica', the latter tune being mesmerically phenomenal tonight. Doug McCombs keeps the bass backbone true and Jeff Parker fills in with guitar sheen, overdrive bite and metrical synth lines in varying mystical proportions. This is no fixed configuration however, with all players sharing rhythm, lead, harmony and textural tasks to cook up the timbral alchemy. They make the punk clatter of 'Yinxianghechengqi' sit side by side with the mournful latino twang reverb of 'The Fall of Seven Diamonds Plus One'. The cymbal splashy fast shuffle groove of 'TNT' was, as usual, messianic, and 'The Suspension Bridge At Iguazú Falls' a marimba-vibraphonic delight. At times this felt like an illicit kaleidophonic ecstasy.

They encored with a mature and graceful take on the majestic 'I Set My Face To The Hillside' that oozed pure solar coziness, following up with a punchy quarter/triplet fooling 'Charteroak Foundation' to conclude a dream-like evening. Quite brilliant stuff. Truly a dream come true.

'Monica' live in Barcelona:

Overtone Patterns

Dave Holland, Chris Potter, Jason Moran & Eric Harland Overtone Quartet, London Jazz Festival, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Friday 20th November 2009

One can be forgiven for being a little awed by the sense of presence when the stately Dave Holland takes to the stage. This man is ex-Bitches Brew era Miles after all. He introduces the band in such a relaxed and self assured manner, you know this guy knows what he’s doing. Holland then headed us straight for saxophonist Potter’s composition ‘Outsiders’. A great start too, loosely hinting at the lilt and circular lifting sequence of Corea’s ‘500 Miles High’. There was some lovely lyrical playing from pianist Moran, and an immediately seductive deep fine groove from drummer Harland. The bass and drum introduction to Holland’s ‘Walking the Walk’ was a gorgeous treat with some fine sprinkle washes of Fender Rhodes keyboard setting up a bluesmeister bass solo. Holland combines a strong weighty pulse with a precise articulation that ensures every note counts.

The Harland composed ‘Patterns’ hosted the first appearance of some metrical trickery, albeit being well disguised by the loose grooved drumming. The intensity slowly upped and upped, giving Moran and Potter the opportunity for some fearsome trading spurred on by the rhythmic surge. A track from the classic ‘Conference of the Birds’ album, ‘Interception’, took us into hardcore fast manic angular territory, Potter at times squawking through both soprano and tenor sax simultaneously. It takes quite some listening to this, but respite occurred with a two-note groove lockdown giving us a temporary breather. Some fluid side stick drumming accompanied by a quite overwhelmingly fast and precise bass section was a marvel. The aural space then opened out to expose a rumbling low kick drum thud, this clearing the path for a relentless and highly percussive drum solo from Harland.

We were eased down gently with the introspective encore track, ‘Sky’. Some gentle bowed double bass, decorated by sympathetic brush and bell strokes from Harland calmed our neural firestorms, and readied us for the journey home. Exhausting at times, but well worth it. You know your world is better for it.

This Is The Sound Of America

Bill Frisell, Mike Gibbs & The BBC Symphony Orchestra, London Jazz Festival, Barbican, Thursday 19th November 2009

This gig had all the hallmarks of being a really special evening, but somehow it didn’t quite happen.

The BBC Symphony Orchestra set the evening in motion with Copland’s grandiose ‘Appalachian Spring’. Images of great American landscapes and windblown plains were divvied up aplenty, and it was all very epic. Perhaps it was never going to do it for me, but it set an appropriate tone for an evening of classic American sounds. The piece had some interesting dark flourishes, but was too twee on the whole.

Charles Ives' ‘Three Places in New England’ was a definite improvement. The first movement was melancholy, mysterious and pensive in all the right ways. The second movement clattered a pastiche of musicals over a chromatic underlay, the melody lines delighting in leading you in predictable ways, but then twisting away at the most unlikely times and places. Some fearsome cacophonous climaxes were crashed over some cross cutting familiar themes.

After the break the paternal presence of a cosy checkered Bill Frisell joined the orchestra along with composer/conductor/arranger Mike Gibbs, and drummer Joey Baron for the premier of ‘Collage for a Day’ commissioned by BBC Radio 3 for the festival. The piece had an over-arching classic country blues tone that was set right from the off, Frisell coming in over a suspenseful opening section with characteristic twangy tremeloed swampy blues lines. There were some tasty deep resonant cello parts in a waltzy section that followed, and Frisell decorated these by digging out some pinched harmonics with a grittier guitar sound. Some aspects echoed 1970s John Barry film scores despite the general American tone. A stark strident crash chord then set up a reversed loop backdrop which Frisell used to scatter more overdriven grit liberally across the chugging bolero rhythm.

The second movement opened with a promising Hitchcock-like short intro, this being followed by a biting rock blues riff accompanied by some great percussive finger drumming from Joey Baron. The strings then picked up the line and Frisell hit the echo reverse overdrive. It was gripping stuff, but could have done with a change of direction a little sooner, as it did start to flag. The heart rendering pathos of the next section invited us to fall into the warmth of its open voiced wide intervallic abstractions.

Frisell’s improvising was especially exploratory tonight, and just a shade on the wrong side of ponderous. A tad more commitment to the ideas would have gone a long way, though the approach maybe suited some of the more playful references. The romantic slow waltz of the next movement had some nice minor-major chord side kicks embellished with a thick Fripp-like tone, it all ending in a satisfying modal wash.

The encore tune was the finest of the evening, shades of sadness being contrasted and counter posed with dark ominous harmonies. A poignant and pensive end to an evening of mixed emotions.