Category: jazz rock

Progtoberfest: Day 1 Report

On By kruekuttIn jazz rock, Pink Floyd, progressive rock3 Comments

by Rick Krueger

On Friday, October 20, hundreds of dedicated proggers converged on Chicago from around the country — and even from across the globe.  The location: Reggie’s Rock Club & Music Joint on the Near South Side, only two blocks away from the former Chess Records, the birthplace of great discs by Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry, The Rolling Stones and countless others.

Reggie’s has two main rooms, both dedicated to Progtoberfest this weekend.  The Rock Club is designed for concerts, with a raised stage, a main floor, an upper level mezzanine —and a wire fence decor motif throughout.  The Music Joint has a tinier stage tucked into the back of a narrow bar and grill.  This weekend, merch tables were crammed into every inch remaining on the main floor, and patrons less interested in the music (or needing a break from the density of the sound) took advantage of Friday and Saturday’s warm weather to eat and drink at sidewalk tables.  An upstairs space that held a record store until recently was turned into the VIP/Meet and Greet lounge for the duration.


Due to the usual complications of traveling to and around Chicago as the weekend starts, I got to my spot in the Rock Club just as Schooltree was taking the stage.  With only an hour on the schedule, they powered through highlights of their Heterotopia album, condensing the narrative to zoom in on its main character Suzi.  The set left no doubt that Lainey Schooltree is a major talent; her songwriting chops, keyboard skills and vocal versatility all came through loud and clear, grabbing and holding the audience’s attention.  The rest of the band bopped along brilliantly too, with the ebullient energy of Peter Danilchuk on organ and synth leading the way.


The crowd for Schooltree was solid, but hometown heroes District 97 were the first group to pack the place, filling both seats and standing room on the main floor.   The band took no prisoners, blasting right into riff-heavy highlights from their three albums that showed off every player’s monster chops.  Soaring above the din, Leslie Hunt pulled in the crowd with her astonishing vocal power and range.  New songs were mixed in that sent the audience head-banging and prog-pogoing with abandon.

Continue reading “Progtoberfest: Day 1 Report” →

soundstreamsunday: “Starless” by King Crimson

On By Craig BreadenIn art rock, jazz rock, progressive rock5 Comments

kingcrimsonKing Crimson appeared in 1969 as an island, on the far side of the bridge joining a tiring psychedelic scene to a studied, if no less freaky (for its age), “progressive” rock.  In its nearly fifty years the group’s membership has drifted in and out through orbits around guitarist Robert Fripp, his steady hand and heart dissolving and reforming Crimson as there is music for it to play.  As Fripp assembled the band’s third incarnation, Crimson was riding a wave of popularity the rewards of which didn’t settle entirely well with him, and in promising a more difficult, rockier terrain he was able to lure drummer Bill Bruford, looking for a similar fresh start, from megaprog juggernaut Yes.  With violinist David Cross and bassist/vocalist John Wetton, the band created three albums in quick succession, ranking among their diverse best.  1974’s Red, the last of the trio, is an able summation of Crimson to that point, before Fripp forcibly retired the band (he would let Crimson lie dormant until a brilliant, left-field return in 1981).  The music is a metallic, abrasive take on contemplating the dying of the light, its mood no doubt reflecting Fripp’s, and his band’s, growing uneasiness.

In its lyric, “Starless” is an extension of the previous album’s title, Starless and Bible Black,  but the resemblance more-or-less ends there.  It has more in common with the grandeur of Crimson’s first record, In the Court of the Crimson King, mellotrons drifting into Fripp’s signature sustained tones, with Wetton’s vocal part an overtly dramatic (such was Wetton’s m.o., but here it works) preamble to a long instrumental passage as heavy a piece of jazz metal fusion as has ever been created.  For all his professorial demeanor and seriousness, Fripp loves a good stoner riff, and the tension he can build around such beasts — harmonic, exploratory — separates him from the pack.  Brainy, yes, but beguiling, gorgeous, devastating.

soundstreamsunday presents one song or live set by an artist each week, and in theory wants to be an infinite linear mix tape where the songs relate and progress as a whole. For the complete playlist, go here: soundstreamsunday archive and playlist, or check related articles by clicking on”soundstreamsunday” in the tags section.

Bruford, Seems Like A Lifetime Ago, 1977-1980

On By kruekuttIn jazz rock, progressive rockLeave a comment

Bill Bruford re-releases the music of his marvelous 1970s “rock group with a jazz sensibility” on October 27.

Titled Seems Like A Lifetime Ago, 1977-1980, the 8-disc box set features Bruford in collaboration with Dave Stewart (Egg, Hatfield & the North, National Health) on keyboards,  Jeff Berlin (a fine American jazz-rock bassist) and Allan Holdsworth (Soft Machine, UK) & ‘The Unknown’ John Clark on guitar.  Mostly instrumental, the music featured occasional vocals by Annette Peacock and Berlin.   The limited edition box will include:

  • DVD 1: Feels Good To Me: 5.1 surround sound and original 1978 mix remastered
  • CD 1: Feels Good to Me: 2017 remix from original masters
  • DVD 2: One of a Kind: 5.1 surround sound and original 1979 mix remastered.
  • CD 2: One of a Kind: 2017 remix from original masters – previously unreleased: outtake of Five G
  • CD 3: Gradually Going Tornado: Remaster
  • CD 4: The Bruford Tapes: Remaster: Bonus track: Manacles
  • CD 5: Live at the Venue: Previously unreleased. Recorded in London 1980.
  • CD 6: The 4th Album Rehearsal Sessions: Previously unreleased: 18 rehearsal sketches of new material.
  • 16-Page 12-inch booklet
  • Sid Smith essay with new interviews with producer, engineer, band members, eyewitnesses and others.
  • Previously unseen archive visual material.
  • Complete band date sheet with contemporary critical reaction.
  • 2 x black and white 10” x 8” band photos.
  • 1 x A3-size colour poster accompanying Live at the Venue
  • 1 x signed numbered certificate of authentication

The only thing not included in the box is the Rock Goes to College video of the band with Peacock on vocals, still available here.   Following the collapse of Bruford the group, Bruford the drummer rejoined Robert Fripp for the 1980s version of King Crimson.

This is exhilarating music from a band that burned, driven all the while by Bill Bruford’s elegant polyrhythms.  30 years on, Bruford was still playing in 19/8 and making it look easy:

Seems Like a Lifetime Ago, 1977-1980 is available to pre-order at Pledge Music and Burning Shed.   More about the box set, including interviews with Bruford, other band members and remixer Jakko Jakszyk, at TeamRock.

Rick’s Quick Takes: But Wait … There’s More! Live 2017 by Brand X

On By kruekuttIn jazz, jazz rock5 Comments

by Rick Krueger

“Wait … Phil Collins was in another band at the same time as Genesis?  And melancholy ballads weren’t involved?”

Continue reading “Rick’s Quick Takes: But Wait … There’s More! Live 2017 by Brand X” →

Allan Holdsworth (1946-2017): Endless Melody

On By kruekuttIn jazz rock, progressive rock2 Comments

It took me a while to get my hands on a copy of the late Allan Holdsworth’s new compilation, Eidolon.  It was well worth the wait.

What strikes me on the second listen to Eidolon is the seemingly endless flow of melody Holdsworth tapped.  Despite his stunning contributions to the first U.K. album, it’s clear in retrospect that the man wasn’t comfortable in a highly structured musical environment.  Like his hero John Coltrane, Holdsworth was much happier stating the tune at the start, in bebop head style, then seeing where he could travel with it.

Taking on the basic materials of scales and arpeggios from oblique directions, chaining them together into lightning fast, super-dense sheets of sound, slowing or stopping dead on a sustained note or an unexpected harmonic twist at just the right moment, all somehow connected to the chord changes he floated above — this is what Holdsworth brought to the Tony Williams Lifetime and Soft Machine, what he developed further in Bill Bruford’s band (before and after U.K.), and what he spent the rest of his life exploring.  From the evidence here, he never ran out of new territory to pioneer; minds were duly blown, and hearts were duly moved.

Despite the admiration and support of more famous shredders like Eddie Van Halen and Joe Satriani, Allan Holdsworth never broke through to wide acclaim. But Eidolon leads me to believe that the gift of music — especially of melody — always brought him joy. Kudos to Manifesto Records for their re-release of all of Holdsworth’s albums (compiled as The Man Who Changed Guitar Forever) and this excellent compilation — which you can check out below.

Rick Krueger

Section 43 Turns 50

On By chuckhicksIn art rock, avant-garde, jazz rock, progressive rock, progressive rock music, psychedelic rock5 Comments
country-joe-2
The past is the push of you, me, all, precisely the same,
And what is yet untried and afterward is for you, me, all, precisely the same.
I do not know what is untried and afterward,
But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.
~ Walt Whitman, from Song of Myself, Section 43.

 

Unlike bluegrass, where one can point to Bill Monroe’s “Mule Skinner Blues” (1940) as the discrete start of a new musical genre, progressive rock’s emergence was gradual. With Revolver and “Eight Miles High” the boundaries of pop music were expanded; 1967 would see the arrival of free-form or fusionist jam tracks likes Pink Floyd’s “Interstellar Overdrive,” Buffalo Springield’s “Bluebird” (the hard to find long version), and Jefferson Airplane’s 24 minute epic “Spare Chaynge” (pared down to its last 9-1/2 minutes for After Bathing at Baxter’s). 

Fifty years ago this month Country Joe & The Fish entered the studio in San Francisco to record their first LP. The last track of side one may be the most proto-prog recording of the ’60s. “Section 43” reminds us that prog rock got its biggest push from the counter-culture’s psychedelia and acid rock. Whereas the aforementioned jam pieces are largely improvisational, this multi-part mini-epic displays as much attention to form as freak out.

Now, I have a confession to make. I had never heard “Section 43” until a few weeks ago. In 1967 I was a first-grader, and the greatest rock band in the world was The Monkees. When I later watched the Woodstock documentary I associated Country Joe with the Vietnam war gallows humor of “I Feel Like I’m Fixing to Die Rag.” I didn’t look into the band further. It wasn’t until I watched Jack O’Donnell’s documentary on the Summer of Love,  Revolution, that I caught the music on the soundtrack and went on a quest to know who performed it. Thankfully, the person who posted a print of the film on YouTube was ready with the answer.

Watching the film I thought I might be hearing some previously uncovered Floyd track. The Farfisa organ and bass line put me in mind of Rick Wright and Roger Waters. Upon learning it was Country Joe & The Fish my mind was blown — and impressed.

The piece follows a verse-chorus-verse-verse-chorus structure. The choruses build tension waltzing slowly through minor and dissonant chords. The first and third verses showcase interplay between Barry “The Fish” Melton’s Gibson SG and David Bennett Cohen’s keyboard. The middle verses are bisected by what Richie Unterberger calls “an unexpected, almost circus-like atonal passage.” Up to that jarring break our ears are treated to a bracing harmonica solo from bassist Bruce Barthol, as salient on that instrument as with the heavy strings, while Gary “Chicken” Hirsh’s cymbals crash and tom-tom’s dance all around.

But it’s Melton’s note-bending, Near Eastern inflection on the second guitar solo that’s the highlight of this track. Country Joe McDonald? Why, he wrote the thing, and his ringing hollow-bodied Gibson keeps the whole contraption aloft.

The band opened with “Section 43” on the final morning of the 1967 Monterey Pop festival, an event memorable for Pete Townshend smashing his guitar and Jimi Hendrix setting fire to his. But Rolling Stone rated “Section 43” among the 15 greatest musical moments captured on film. Not so much for the shots of the band themselves (though Melton’s army jacket and blue jean combo would be a look emulated on school buses for years to come). It was the yawning, scratching youth summoned from slumber by Country Joe’s yell, and stumbling to the stage front that were the real stars of the clip.

Barthol’s harmonica solo isn’t present in this version. Country Joe blows the last dying notes on the harp as the camera cuts to the tapping feet of a sleepy and spacey young woman, too tired or too high or perhaps too deeply moved to clap, but whose bleary-eyed, Mona Lisa smile tells us that we have might have just passed a key signpost on the road to Proghalla.

 

 

soundstreamsunday: “Ballerina” by Van Morrison

On By Craig BreadenIn jazz, jazz folk, jazz rock, progressive rock, Rock and Roll4 Comments

van-morrison-sqThe art gallery of rock and roll is a rich and welcoming place, with room upon room spinning off into many-directioned distances.  There is no entrance fee or warnings to stand back, please, from the piece.  And, like at all great museums, any pretense to surface comportment is, if meaningful at all, only a nod of respect to the spark of human creativity.  A sign that we don’t stand in willful ignorance.  Before the work, within the work, we are all children.  It is in rock’s nature to empower its listeners to create, and within this space there is no genre, no boogie no punk no progressive no pop no indie no folk, just an honoring of the empty canvas and the unrestrained fire banked down in humanity.  It’s what I love about rock, and it’s what made Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks happen.

Drummer Connie Kay and guitarist Jay Berliner both famously recounted that Morrison told his musicians — and these weren’t just any musicians, but some of the finest jazz players New York could provide in the late 1960s, led by the inimitable bassist Richard Davis — to “play what you want” and then left them alone to back and guide him on a set of eight songs whose precedents were slim and bore little relation to the rock-pop classics he recorded with his band Them (“Gloria,” “Here Comes the Night”) or on his first solo album (“Brown Eyed Girl”).  Astral Weeks (1968) is an echo of Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue (1959), where an extraordinarily talented group of jazz musicians received a similar lack of instruction, and Love’s Forever Changes (1967), where the pop songwriter deliberately challenged the very notion and direction of his craft.  Morrison’s artistic success on Astral Weeks was, and remains, startling.  The album’s embrace of acoustic jazz as a way forward had a profound impact on the burgeoning “singer songwriter” movement, and for better or worse has become instant point of comparison with subsequent work by musicians such as Joni Mitchell or Tim Buckley or Nick Drake.

“Ballerina” captures the essence of an album that is about nothing as much as ecstatic love, the joyous and at times Joyce-ean observations of a 23-year-old ancient who had spent the previous year turning his voice into a bebop trumpet.  While Morrison got and kept his fame on the back of “Brown Eyed Girl” and “Moondance” and the slew of equally wonderful R&B radio-ready hits that would come his way, it’s here that his artistic street cred was established, as he honored the canvas and invited Davis, Kay, and Berliner to follow their hearts along with him.

soundstreamsunday presents one song or live set by an artist each week, and in theory wants to be an infinite linear mix tape where the songs relate and progress as a whole. For the complete playlist, go here: soundstreamsunday archive and playlist, or check related articles by clicking on”soundstreamsunday” in the tags section above.

soundstreamsunday: “Spanish Key” by Miles Davis

On By Craig BreadenIn jazz, jazz rock, progressive rock3 Comments

bitchesbrew_frontIt’s unavoidable.  It is impossible to speak of modern music, regardless of genre, and not take note of the critical importance of Miles Davis.  Call him what you will or what he called himself — a genius of composition, a dazzling trumpeter/performer and band leader/manipulator, an agent provocateur, a counter-racist, coke fiend, pimp, misogynist — Miles Davis was to musical art what Pablo Picasso was to visual art in the 20th century.  It’s so true it’s not even up for debate, and there’s about a kazillion hours of recorded, generous, lovely, dark, funky, bopping proof.  By natural extension Davis was the incarnation of what Ravel’s Bolero was all about — schooled freedom, the connection of craft and wild will, the fearlessness to create shit one second and be the divine and golden voice of the Spirit the next.  By the time Miles Davis released Bitches Brew in 1970, he’d been creating killer jazz for over 20 years, had broken from the pack a decade earlier with the “modal” music of Kind of Blue (1959), and had crafted blueprints for psychedelic and progressive rock in the music he created between Sketches of Spain (1960) and In A Silent Way (1969).  He was a complete musician who, difficult as he was, found sympathetic producers, promoters, and partners who fed and nurtured his bright flame.  As we find him on “Spanish Key,” Davis’s work is still melodic, free and open, but deconstruction is increasingly what he’s about — he’s using the studio as an instrument, playing less, knitting together jams, finding the overlap of blues and jazz and funk, Waters and Ellington and Brown. He was 44 years old, electric with creativity and swaggering with confidence, inspiring and inspired by rock’s reach towards jazz through Hendrix and Santana the Family Stone.  But for all the trappings of the rock band that he took with him to the stage, he never yielded, in the sheer sonic amplified power, any of jazz’s mysteries and his own mastery.  He delighted in pointing out that he could go to rock, but rock could not come to him.  It’s certainly true, to the extent that Miles Davis had a transcending vision and the untameable talent to back it up.  There is not another record in jazz or rock like Bitches Brew, and there never again will be.  It is a difficult, beautiful ride.

soundstreamsunday playlist and archive

soundstreamsunday: “Babylon Sisters” by Steely Dan

On By Craig BreadenIn jazz rock, Rock and RollLeave a comment

steelydan_gaucho_israelhoffman2Put a couple of decades on the protagonist of “Lush Life,” put him on the West Coast with some other wicked habits, and you’d come up with something like “Babylon Sisters,” from Steely Dan’s final masterpiece, Gaucho.  A commercial success but critical dud at the time of its release, Gaucho has grown in stature, but still it lingers in the shadow of its forebear, Aja. Gaucho, though, is the perfect extension of Aja, a further distillation of Steely Dan’s trajectory towards its God-in-the-details hybrid of jazz and rock.  Its slow, studied strut, coupled with a bell-clear production, supports the record’s stories of 70s California decadence, delivered in Donald Fagen’s most pronounced ironic drawl.  Drug use and sketchy sexual adventure are linked to characters who are too old, too rich, too emotionally distant, and even so the oily discomfort they evoke is dispelled by the deeply funky, freewheeling grooves — courtesy of such players as Bernard Purdie, Mark Knopfler, Chuck Rainey, Joe Sample, Rick Derringer, the Brecker brothers, Don Grolnick, Larry Carlton, and on and on — and the sense that this is sharp character study and cool observation.  “Babylon Sisters,” the album’s opener, cycles through first, second, and third person, appearing on its face to be an old dude telling the story of his hookup with (perhaps more than one) much younger woman, with veiled references to cocaine or meth use, but other voices intrude, those of the women and also those of his friends, the latter warning him away from a life that he himself recognizes is beyond him.  As in many of Steely Dan’s songs, narrative clarity isn’t the point as much as the delivery of the words with the music, an impressionistic approach which brings a dark tonality, towards sadness, to the characters in “Babylon Sisters” and to Gaucho as a whole. It’s less Hotel California and that album’s obvious metaphors, and more the tricky psych-scape of film noir L.A., set even more ominously to music that is bright and sunny and colorful, with a distinct slither. Classic Rock’s Less Than Zero.

soundstreamsunday playlist

Gaucho on Amazon

*Above image, detail of Israel Hoffman’s Guardia Vieja, used for the cover of Gaucho.

soundstreamsunday: “Live at BRIC” by Esperanza Spalding

On By Craig BreadenIn jazz rock, progressive rockLeave a comment

HA_150214_Andres_Esperanza-Spalding_1228_FINALThere may be too much to say about and too much going on in Esperanza Spalding’s new album, Emily’s D+Evolution, to relate anything meaningful in writing here. “Live at BRIC,” a performance of songs from the album, was recorded by NPR in March, and it shines brightly, landing it’s Parliament-like Mothership on planets traveled by Joni Mitchell, King Crimson, Zappa. Importantly, it throws down the gauntlet in terms of prog rock performance, making more out of less. It’s not just a bunch of musos looking at the floor in their noodle space, but the simple theatricality complements the music without getting in the way — it’s emotional, engaged, a pure and honest expression.

Emily’s D+Evolution on Amazon

soundstreamsunday archive