Thursday, April 7, 2011

Thursday's pill: Darcy James Argue

Darcy James Argue and the Secret Society play "Transit" (score) at Kennedy Center, on January 5th, 2011.



More videos: here.

The Kennedy Center gig, complete: here.

Monday, April 4, 2011

The strange case of Freddie Green

Freddie Green (© Burt Goldblatt/CTS Images)
Freddie Green would have been 100 years old on March 31st. As familiar as his name is for Swing fans, his was a strange career, his contribution being easier to spot by its absence rather than its presence. From 1937 onwards he was what kept Basie's rhythm sections together, his metronomic touch and extremely light harmonic contribution probably being the factor that allowed them to relax and swing harder. At a time when the electric guitar was introduced and became the main way to do jazz on a guitar, he kept playing an archtop acoustic. He and electric pioneer Charlie Christian were friends—they recorded together in small groups, live and in the studio—but when Christian gave Green an amplifier as a present, fellow Basie-ites sabotaged any prospective solo work by Green enough times for him to give up the idea.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Meet Francisco Sánchez


One of the greatest musicians alive today, beyond genres, styles, or categories is Paco de Lucía, born Francisco Sánchez in 1947. Paco is short for Francisco, as people familiar with Spain will know, and Lucía, or, rather, Luzia -she was Portuguese-, was Paco's mother.

De Lucía is a rather retiring person, not really keen on interviews or other promotional activities. For the best part of his career his professional routine has followed this pattern: he takes a few years to prepare a new album, and new means exactly that, new, as in unheard music, tours it, and then he retires to compose for the next one.

Back in 2003, Universal published Francisco Sánchez, a documentary about the guitarist. That, in itself, was good enough news. But this is more than just that. This is an extraordinary film, it tells De Lucía's story and manages to provide a very intimate portrait of the artist, through interviews with him and others, in a subtle way, never intruding or pushing for anything. About his colleagues, who, without exception, hasten to explain that they're students of De Lucía's, the admiration they show is genuine and moving. Like when his colleague and contemporary, Manolo Sanlúcar says:
Paco is the best instance of what a star is. Listening to Paco, the novice listener will be enchanted, and the expert will go crazy... He's got everything.

However, the real merit of the film is that De Lucía seems to really open up. Besides the brilliant final statement -which I won't reveal here- he says things like:
I don't want to play. I play because I have to. I started playing when i was 12, and I haven't stopped ever since. I've played thousands of concerts and... so many sleepless nights, so much travelling...

De Lucía also explains what he has done with Flamenco music and what his approach is, and is honest enough to admit that he's never had a problem with playing fast (the supernatural coordination between his two hands is possibly the most astonishing feature of his technique). Between him and also Sanlúcar a very clear picture emerges of what being a creative musician entails, and the almost sickening perfectionism that plagues him.

There's plenty of footage of him playing from different eras, including the trio with Al di Meola and John McLaughlin (he explains how he managed to play with them), and also of his daily life, like when he's working on his music with his laptop, or when he's playing with his granddaughter. There are many highlights, like the close-up of cantaor Camarón de la Isla gobsmacked by De Lucía's playing (see the picture on the left, or the beginning of this video).

The film was broadcasted recently on Spanish national TV, and now you can watch it online here.

The DVD edition comes with English and French subtitles, plus a second disc with him playing Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez and some of his own music.

Monday, February 28, 2011

KBO: João Gilberto

A few weeks ago I told you about this little campaign I've started on Facebook to ask for EMI and Mr. João Gilberto to reach an agreement and give the world a proper reissue of the truly wonderful music Mr. Gilberto recorded in his first three albums.



Since then, a few well-intentioned friends have warned me of the unlikelihood of such enterprise. "You won't achieve your goal", they say.

It may well be so. I'm well aware of the crisis in the music industry, and of EMI¡s problems in particular. But nobody will able to say that I didn't try. I think it's a disgrace that so many people have never heard this music, a little spark of genius that happened to be recorded in Brazil around fifty years ago. It had Vinicius's poetry, Jobim's musicality, but first and foremost, Mr. Gilberto's total commitment to the music. They say he's a perfectionist, a difficult man. I say he's just completely devoted to music: if you watch any videos of him, and there are plenty, you'll notice how his whole face shapes around each exact note he sings.

I, or rather, we may not get EMI to publish an official reissue. But it won't be because we didn't speak up.

Like the song says if someone doesn't like this music, it's because "they're not good people, either they have a bad head, or bad feet".


Monday, February 14, 2011

George Shearing (1919-2011)

"I adapted Milt Buckner and Glenn Miller"




RIP, George Shearing (1919 - 2011)


Obituaries: Peter Keepnews, Doug Ramsey

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Happy 100th, Little Jazz!

Roy Eldridge (1911-1989) would have been 100 years old today. He's one of the great trumpets in the history of jazz. In the following videos BBC's Julian Joseph overviews his life and music.



Saturday, January 29, 2011

João Gilberto, EMI, and us

(El texto en español está aquí)


One of many singular aspects of the 20th century, is what happened to popular music. It could be said that, from a traditional or folk form of expression, it got more and more sophisticated artistically while still keeping some of its folk qualities. While that tension was kept – until sometime in the second half of last century – a great treasure trove of jazz and pop was created and, some of it, preserved. Personally, I think what we know as "bossa nova" fits that picture perfectly.

A couple of years ago, I wrote about the 50th anniversary of João Gilberto's first recording of "Chega de Saudade", and commented on the deadlock between the singer/guitarist and EMI, the owner of the master tapes of Gilberto's first three albums. The result is us not having a proper, readily available, way to enjoy a masterpiece.

In 1990 EMI did a reissue with all three albums crammed in one CD. Apparently Gilberto was not consulted and was subsequently unhappy for the sound quality and other liberties taken, such as combining "O Nosso Amor" and "A Felicidade" into a medley (which is debatable, although it does make sense: those two tracks were not in the original LPs, both are versions of tunes from the film Black Orpheus, and both are the only ones to feature a batucada). That CD (O mito in Brazil, The Legendary... in the rest of the world) was removed by a court order in 1997 and since then Gilberto and EMI have not reached an agreement.

This year not only marks the singer's 80th birthday (June 10th), but also all this music's becoming public domain in Europe. From EMI's point of view, this can be quite discouraging, but I truly think that a reissue, carefully done, can beat whatever whoever does with other sources. So far, UK label él records have released the first two albums, on individual CDs, and the results are pretty good, to be fair. The sound is not perfect, possibly taken from clean LPs, but still better than the 1990 EMI; the liner notes are informative and they have added relevant extra tracks, versions of Gilberto's songs by other artists.

One of the good things about those extra tracks, is that they provide a neat picture of Gilberto's impact when his “Chega de saudade” came out. Judging from Elizete Cardoso's earlier version of “Chega...”, which was the original and had already part of Jobim's classic arrangement, Gilberto's singing and playing must have been a real shocker! From our point of view, we may think that all the criticisms of being out of tune or just plain weird were made by extremely narrow-minded people. I think they can only be accused of not knowing how to react to something really new (and we owe them the inspiration for “Desafinado”, after all).

The music in those three LPs is pure magic. It's one of the best examples of music as a moving force, and one of the summits of 20th century popular music, bar none. The tragedy is that there are many people in the world today who have NEVER heard it.

That's why I think that Mr. Gilberto and EMI should try to reach an agreement and do this properly. If the three albums don't fit in a CD (I think they actually do, even with “... Nosso Amor” and “... Felicidade” as single tracks) they should do a 2-CD set, with pristine remastering, a big fat booklet explaining who are these guys (Gilberto, Jobim, de Moraes, etc.)

A friend, also a music lover, asked me the other day: “But would it sell?”

It will. It has to.

In the meantime, and if you're on Facebook, you're welcome to "like" this page. It'll cost you nothing, and you may be contributing to a worthy cause.



***



"Brigas, nunca mais"
(Jobim, de Moraes)

João Gilberto, vocals and guitar
Edmundo Maciel, trombone
Antonio Carlos Jobim, piano and arrangements
Milton Banana, drums
Rubens Bassini, percussion
plus strings

January 23, 1959