JazzTimes Lives

In an interview over the weekend, JazzTimes editor-in-chief Lee Mergner said the magazine will resume publication in August. Former publisher Glenn Sabin sold the magazine to Madavor Media. According to Mergner, the magazine will retain much of its editorial staff and contributors, and will not clean house. I'm looking forward to receiving the August issue, and perhaps I can finally get that Horace Silver DVD they owe me for my subscription gift...

Review: Spirit Moves

Dave Douglas
Spirit Moves

Dave Douglas is no stranger to what might be termed (for lack of a better word) "tribute albums," having recorded albums featuring the music of Booker Little and Mary Lou Williams, among others (In Our Lifetime and Soul on Soul, respectively). What makes his tributes unique, though, is that rather than reinterpreting the work of another musician, Douglas prefers to filter the tribute subject's style through his own, in an effort to recreate that subject's sound and persona in a new context. Thus, his "tributes" counterintuitively consist mostly of original material. On his latest album, Spirit Moves, Douglas is again playing with a number of influences in mind, in this case the early-20th century New Orleans brass bands that played a role in the creation of jazz as well as Lester Bowie's Brass Fantasy band, which used the brass ensemble as a vehicle for performing all sorts of music, from pop to classical and many points between. Douglas performs here in a brass quartet accompanied by drummer Nasheet Waits.

The music on this album ranges from moments of tightly arranged composition to free-wheeling group improvisation, with Douglas and trombonist Luis Bonilla shouldering a bulk of the soloing duties. The repertoire is similarly varied. The opening track, This Love Affair, features an Eastern European tinge reminiscent of Douglas' Tiny Bell Trio, while Bowie hearkens back to the aforementioned turn-of-the-century New Orleans brass band. Douglas is in high form throughout, consolidating the trademark smears and half-valve effects favored by Bowie into his own thoroughly modern sounds. His arrangements are thoughtful and colorful, taking advantage of the almost limitless sounds made possible by the blending of different brass instruments. This Love Affair uses an oom-pah pattern between the tuba and a combination of French horn and trombone which creates a wonderfully dark backdrop for Douglas' dirge-like lamentations on trumpet.

However, periodically the band reveals why the conventional jazz ensemble evolved without the tuba, opting for the upright bass instead. On tunes like The View From Blue Mountain, in which the tuba provides the rhythmic drive, the band feels somewhat stiff, and I am left wondering if the tune would sound better with a bass instead of the tuba. Anyone who's played a tuba before can attest to the difficulties inherent in playing the types of bass lines Douglas writes on this album. Luckily, though, Douglas included Nasheet Waits, a regular of Jason Moran's trio, on drums for the album. Waits provides a propulsive lightness which often counteracts any moments of excess heaviness in the tuba.

This album might slip through the cracks when it comes time for year-end lists and awards. While it is decidedly unconventional, the album breaks little new ground and might not stand out for any other reason than its unusual instrumentation. However, there are few better ways to spend an afternoon than listening to Douglas' various takes on the history of jazz. For that, this album provides great fodder. You won't be disappointed.


BONUS: Greenleaf Music has posted some studio footage of the band playing The View From Blue Mountain.

Track Listing: This Love Affair; Orujo; The View from Blue Mountain; Twilight of the Dogs; Bowie; Rava; Fats; The Brass Ring; Mister Pitiful; Great Awakening; I'm So Lonesome I Could
Personnel: Dave Douglas, trumpet; Vincent Chancey, French horn; Luis Bonilla, trombone; Marcus Rojas, tuba; Nasheet Waits, drums

How Not To Write Jazz Criticism

I'm a bit late to the party, but perhaps you've heard about this review of the Maria Schneider Orchestra's recent performance at the Ottawa Jazz Festival. It has everything jazz critics should avoid: including blatant misogyny, focusing on the histrionics of the performance instead of the actual music, and disdain for other members of the audience. Needless to say, it sparked a good deal of criticism from commenters at the Montreal Gazette (who published the review) and jazz bloggers.

James Hale said it best: "So, on behalf of professional jazz journalists everywhere: Thanks, Jeff. You just set back our cause beyond measure." At Rifftides, Doug Ramsey adds:

As jazz magazines go out of business and coverage budgets at general circulation publications dry up, one part of conventional journalism wisdom is that the web, specifically bloggers on the web, will take up the slack. Please don't let it disturb you if I point out that most bloggers work for nothing more than the challenge, the thrill, the contacts or the loss-leading benefits of using their blogs as adjuncts to whatever they do for a living. It would be a mistake to count on them (us) to provide the standards and oversight that print publishers are unwilling or unable to observe and practice. In journalism as in the rest of life, generally you get what you pay for.

I can't say I totally share Doug's pessimism. Bloggers (especially in the realms of sports and politics) have become notorious for their reputations as curmudgeonly spewers of invective and poor (and often absent) fact-checking (whether or not they deserve these reputations is another argument altogether that I will avoid here). However, being that jazz occupies a niche space in our culture, it seems to me that most jazz bloggers write mostly out of their love for the music. While this does not guarantee that dreck such as this Heinrich review will not appear from time to time, I like to think (perhaps too optimistically) that these bloggers-cum-enthusiasts will tend to govern themselves according to the standards of civility to which conventional journalists are held by their editors.

Meanwhile, this criticism of big band jazz made the rounds last week. I'll defer to Darcy James Argue and Ian of Villes Ville on their rebuttals to the piece; they defend big band jazz with passion and more effectively than I could hope to. Besides, I mention it here not to criticize Matt Rubin, the writer of the post, but rather point out that while his argument is critical, he does not resort to the nastiness of Heinrich's piece. He keeps a level head and stays focused on the music, in the way that I think most jazz bloggers (who actually care about jazz) would.

Lastly, I beg of you, my readers: please do not hesitate to put me in my place if I ever write something so terrible as Heinrich's takedown of Maria Schneider.

Now, in order for us all to cool off, let's watch a YouTube of Charles Lloyd with John Abercrombie, Marc Johnson, and Billy Hart.

Thinking of Louis

Even though it's long been established that he wasn't actually born on the 4th of July, I always think of Louis Armstrong on the 4th (nothing wrong with a little mythologizing on a holiday). So happy birthday, Louis.

Must Read

In The Weekly Standard, Joe Queenan tells a tale of former Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan's days as a jazz musician. Some choice quotes follow. Greenspan brought a distinctive approach to improvisation, as told by Snooky Parnell:

"The Green Man [his nickname at the time] always played his arpeggios back to front, and in the subtonic key, which forced the listener to rethink his assumptions about where a solo should go," recalls Parnell, who played bass with Miles Davis, Art Tatum, and Thelonious Monk.

He also played well enough to impress Charles Mingus, who invited Greenspan to tour Europe with his octet after sitting in one night in San Francisco. But Greenspan could not handle the thought of not being the best saxophonist around, an insecurity which eventually led him to quit the music business:

It was September 14, 1949, and Greenspan found himself in the same Greenwich Village club as John Coltrane. Coltrane, a convivial sort, went out of his way to be friendly to the youngster, but Greenspan was having none of it. Sax at the ready, he challenged Coltrane to an onstage showdown. It was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life.

"Trane smoked his ass," Parnell remembers. "Greenie foolishly tore into 'Cherokee,' Charlie Barnet's old standby, but Trane knew that tune inside out from his days in Kansas City. Greenie tried to keep up, but no chance. Trane didn't rile easily, but something about the way Greenie carried himself didn't suit John. Trane took him apart."

Read the full piece here.


h/t: jazz.com