happy birthday miles
where else but the fort can you listen to the van cliburn competition on the radio like it was a sporting event, then head for the black dog tavern to hear a galaxy of stellar jazz musos pay tribute to the sorcerer, the prince of darkness his own self, miles davis, on what woulda been the 79th anniversary of his arrival on earth? nowhere, that's where. so much culcha, so little pretense; gawd, i love this town.
the miles tribute, brainchild of bassist paul unger of fort worth symphony and flipside trio fame and peripatetic trumpeter karl poetschke (ex-sivad, ex-ghostcar, and so peripatetic in fact that he didn't bother to show up for the gig at all), is the first of what, with any luck, will wind up being many evenings of jazz repertory in fort worth. the concept was an overview of milestory in three acts, starting with kind of blue, the 1959 album on which miles invented modal jazz and defined his era in one fell swoop; moving on to miles smiles from 1966, on which a band of young firebrands took the earlier album's innovations and ran with 'em, adding their own compositional elan; and finishing up with the controversial period that started with the serenely lyrical in a silent way and the dark, dense convolutions of bitches brew, which found miles incorporating rock and funk influences, alienating much of his erstwhile audience, and paving the way for many of his sidemen's crossover success.
it's a testament to unger's organizational ability and the talents of his all-star cast that they were able to pull off this ambitious program without the benefit of a single rehearsal. aficionados who showed up at the scheduled 9pm start time got to see unger scrambling to hand out lead sheets and "batting orders" while the musos set up and tuned up. i had visions of players lined up three deep on the stage, so that when the first rank got mowed down by the surly black dog claque, field marshal unger could rush in his reserve quintet from the alleyway.
since i had to leave midway into the second set (it was a school night, after all), i don't actually know for sure if karl poetschke ever arrived or not. in the absence of poetschke -- much of whose work with ghostcar sounds like an homage to in a silent way anyhow -- the role of the electric-period miles would have been played by leonard belota, a musician whom i've seen turn on his heels and walk out of a club because he saw a fender bass on the bandstand. while belota's agreeable post-bop style seems downright loquacious compared to the succinctness of miles' song, the trumpeter seemed unintimidated by the thought of whose shoes he was filling, soloing effectively on the '50s and '60s material. joining him in the front line were saxophonists jim sangrey (quartet out) in the coltrane tenor slot and dave williams (dave and daver) on alto a la cannonball. williams is a skillful but self-effacing improvisor; hearing him stretch out is always a treat. my friend who analyzes jazz solos in baseball pitching terms (too much ken burns? _you_ decide!) had this to say about sangrey: "he's throwing all spitballs and sliders. when's he going to _bring the heat_?" for the second set, williams reverted to his usual tenor. does it really take two tenormen to make one wayne shorter? perhaps.
of course, a lot of the action took place in the riddim section. during the kind of blue segment, bassist drew phelps was uncharacteristically on-point (had his "inside" circuit breakers engaged), while it was an absolute stone pleasure to hear dave karnes behind the traps, playing the music he loves best (rather than slumming with some rock band). things started to heat up when unger and his flipside drummer dennis durick stepped up during the miles smiles set. joey carter, who should know, called durick "the best jazz drummer in dallas or fort worth," and the subject of the hyperbole did a pretty good job of proving carter's case, churning up a polyrhythmic firestorm during pianist joe rogers' solo spot in "orbits." (to experience the unger-durick tandem in their natural environment, you need to hear flipside's live double cd raw.) it was a rare pleasure hearing rogers, who's spent 20 years laboring behind the curtain at jubilee theater, dancing on the keys in a straightahead setting. one of my earliest fort worth musical memories is of hearing him playing fusion with master cylinder at the ass-end of the '70s.
speaking of fusion, by the time the band had finished playing "footprints," the clock on the wall said it was almost 1am, and you could feel the mahaherbiehancockorea contingent getting antsy. joey carter, on hand to provide extra keyboard firepower for the electric set, got on the drums and funked up "dolores" a little. there was a line of gtrists, including tom reynolds and bertha coolidge's paul metzger, and an even larger contingent of rabid gtr freaks in the audience. as we were leaving, they were about to get their wish: i saw metzger heading for the stage with his es-335. if i'd heard the opening dulcet tones of "in a silent way" before we hit the door, i'd have had to turn around, but barring that, it was time to go; i'm trying to get over the idea of life as an ongoing sleep-deprivation experiment.
overall, it was a great night of music that pulled a good-sized crowd (and only about 30% of 'em musicians, at that), considering it had minimal publicity at nearly the last possible moment. i suggested to unger that next, he oughtta do a monk tribute at sardine's with johnny case. "i wanna do _ornette_ next," he said. someone from jazz by the boulevard needs to talk to this guy (and festival organizer ricky chewning was in the house, so maybe that'll happen). rumors of the fest's demise have been greatly exaggerated, but an embryonic plan to try and book ornette this year apparently sleeps with the fishes. an all-star ornette tribute might be the next best thing, though: a way of celebrating both fort worth's illustrious jazz past and its rich (if subterranean) jazz present.
the miles tribute, brainchild of bassist paul unger of fort worth symphony and flipside trio fame and peripatetic trumpeter karl poetschke (ex-sivad, ex-ghostcar, and so peripatetic in fact that he didn't bother to show up for the gig at all), is the first of what, with any luck, will wind up being many evenings of jazz repertory in fort worth. the concept was an overview of milestory in three acts, starting with kind of blue, the 1959 album on which miles invented modal jazz and defined his era in one fell swoop; moving on to miles smiles from 1966, on which a band of young firebrands took the earlier album's innovations and ran with 'em, adding their own compositional elan; and finishing up with the controversial period that started with the serenely lyrical in a silent way and the dark, dense convolutions of bitches brew, which found miles incorporating rock and funk influences, alienating much of his erstwhile audience, and paving the way for many of his sidemen's crossover success.
it's a testament to unger's organizational ability and the talents of his all-star cast that they were able to pull off this ambitious program without the benefit of a single rehearsal. aficionados who showed up at the scheduled 9pm start time got to see unger scrambling to hand out lead sheets and "batting orders" while the musos set up and tuned up. i had visions of players lined up three deep on the stage, so that when the first rank got mowed down by the surly black dog claque, field marshal unger could rush in his reserve quintet from the alleyway.
since i had to leave midway into the second set (it was a school night, after all), i don't actually know for sure if karl poetschke ever arrived or not. in the absence of poetschke -- much of whose work with ghostcar sounds like an homage to in a silent way anyhow -- the role of the electric-period miles would have been played by leonard belota, a musician whom i've seen turn on his heels and walk out of a club because he saw a fender bass on the bandstand. while belota's agreeable post-bop style seems downright loquacious compared to the succinctness of miles' song, the trumpeter seemed unintimidated by the thought of whose shoes he was filling, soloing effectively on the '50s and '60s material. joining him in the front line were saxophonists jim sangrey (quartet out) in the coltrane tenor slot and dave williams (dave and daver) on alto a la cannonball. williams is a skillful but self-effacing improvisor; hearing him stretch out is always a treat. my friend who analyzes jazz solos in baseball pitching terms (too much ken burns? _you_ decide!) had this to say about sangrey: "he's throwing all spitballs and sliders. when's he going to _bring the heat_?" for the second set, williams reverted to his usual tenor. does it really take two tenormen to make one wayne shorter? perhaps.
of course, a lot of the action took place in the riddim section. during the kind of blue segment, bassist drew phelps was uncharacteristically on-point (had his "inside" circuit breakers engaged), while it was an absolute stone pleasure to hear dave karnes behind the traps, playing the music he loves best (rather than slumming with some rock band). things started to heat up when unger and his flipside drummer dennis durick stepped up during the miles smiles set. joey carter, who should know, called durick "the best jazz drummer in dallas or fort worth," and the subject of the hyperbole did a pretty good job of proving carter's case, churning up a polyrhythmic firestorm during pianist joe rogers' solo spot in "orbits." (to experience the unger-durick tandem in their natural environment, you need to hear flipside's live double cd raw.) it was a rare pleasure hearing rogers, who's spent 20 years laboring behind the curtain at jubilee theater, dancing on the keys in a straightahead setting. one of my earliest fort worth musical memories is of hearing him playing fusion with master cylinder at the ass-end of the '70s.
speaking of fusion, by the time the band had finished playing "footprints," the clock on the wall said it was almost 1am, and you could feel the mahaherbiehancockorea contingent getting antsy. joey carter, on hand to provide extra keyboard firepower for the electric set, got on the drums and funked up "dolores" a little. there was a line of gtrists, including tom reynolds and bertha coolidge's paul metzger, and an even larger contingent of rabid gtr freaks in the audience. as we were leaving, they were about to get their wish: i saw metzger heading for the stage with his es-335. if i'd heard the opening dulcet tones of "in a silent way" before we hit the door, i'd have had to turn around, but barring that, it was time to go; i'm trying to get over the idea of life as an ongoing sleep-deprivation experiment.
overall, it was a great night of music that pulled a good-sized crowd (and only about 30% of 'em musicians, at that), considering it had minimal publicity at nearly the last possible moment. i suggested to unger that next, he oughtta do a monk tribute at sardine's with johnny case. "i wanna do _ornette_ next," he said. someone from jazz by the boulevard needs to talk to this guy (and festival organizer ricky chewning was in the house, so maybe that'll happen). rumors of the fest's demise have been greatly exaggerated, but an embryonic plan to try and book ornette this year apparently sleeps with the fishes. an all-star ornette tribute might be the next best thing, though: a way of celebrating both fort worth's illustrious jazz past and its rich (if subterranean) jazz present.
posted by stashdauber at 3:29 PM
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