Seven Thoughts and a letter from The Nora Breadstick Correctional Facility. Altona

Grand Prix week in Melbourne. Revhead heaven apparently: which got me thinking.....


If 110,000 people sit on the grass and watch 24 lunatics in very fast cars for five hours, they will probably create less carbon pollution per capita than musos driving to and from a jam session. Aren't statistics wonderful!

If all the rock guitarists in Melbourne played Smoke on the Water it would be neither entertaining nor particularly unusual.

You can fit 60 political pamphlets into a trombone case, and still not get caught smuggling them out of the country. I know, I've done it.

In Ireland, the difference between a violin and a fiddle is that the violin has a case.

There are 2,143 separate parts in a the average unweighted keyboard. Regrettably, they are often joined up.

It is possible to learn and then play every Coltrane solo ever recorded note for note. It is also very silly, and not something that John Coltrane would ever have done.

Summertime can be played at a jam session in a key other than A minor. This remains a theoretical concept.



Rotten Ronnie sends his regards from the Nora Breadstick Correctional Facility, where he is currently residing following an unfortunate misunderstanding at the Altona Dog Show

Madge from Altona's Little Book of Etiquette for Singers at Jam Sessions.

I was talking to Madge  from Altona the other day. They have magnificent lamp posts in Altona. Madge was leaning on one and it only fell over a bit. But I digress. Madge was bemoaning the lack of etiquette in singers at jam sessions these days, and has kindly come up with some simple ideas to help you at your next jazz triumph.

Introductions and Thankyous: Start by saying welcome to the Poisoned Ferret, (or whatever the name of the venue is). Particularly since the singer before you has already done that, and the singer before that. Jeez, most people had forgotten that was where they had come to, and I am sure the bass player never knew in the first place. Finish by introducing every member of "your" band, except one. Get most of the names wrong just to be sure.

Charts: If you have one, leave it at home. If you accidentally bring it to the jam, make sure it is in the wrong key, and printed so small that the pianist needs an industrial strength magnifying glass.

Bonus points for having a chart with 5 or more pages, all sticky taped together so that it falls on the floor at the end of page 1.

Following the Form: Either choose a song with no form whatsoever, or if it has a form, ignore it entirely. Loads of laughs to be had from seeing the band work that one out. Bonus points for altering the arrangement, in pencil, telling half the band, and then ignoring that too.

Tempo: You set the beat by counting in the song:- One..., Two..., One-Two-Three-Four. Come in on five, or seven, or when you feel like it . Bonus points if your chosen piece is in three/four time.

Rhythm: Avoid this altogether. It is just a silly convention amongst musos. Your song will sound much better if you add (or subtract) a few beats from the occasional bar. Keeps the band on their toes, and they will appreciate that.

Follow these rules and your performance will be truly unforgettable, and in the band's case, unforgiveable. They will welcome you back time and time again, for sure. Actually, that is about as likely as Django Reinhardt ordering more than three beers.

Belgium - What Were They Thinking?

Did you know that the saxophone was invented by a Belgian? Incredible!

Belgians have no sense of humour whatsoever. And IPods are now so sophisticated that all the saxophone solos ever recorded can be fitted on to a single IPod. And it doesn't float.


There's an opportunity for someone...

A student's lot is not a happy one

Melbourne, like any other city, regularly hosts this debate from a number of students at or near the end of their jazz course at one or other of our esteemed Universities (Melbourne has four Universities, but only one Juvenile Remand Centre) This debate generally has six themes, all about how to make enough money as a serious jazz musician.

1 There aren't enough live venues: . True: Melbourne has four or five "serious" jazz venues, and any number of restaurants, bars and coffee shops which host jazz. They almost all give up live music or go broke on a regular basis (see Proposition 2 below)

2 We don't get paid diddley squat: True: that would be because live music costs more money than it makes, and the venue operators think they should take a cut, because they take the risk (see 1 above)

3 If we all refuse to take low paying gigs they will have to pay us properly...Not true: there will be no gigs (see 1 and 2 above)

4 Low-life venue managers are avaricious leeches exploiting our musical talents: Possibly true: but having that attitude may not persuade them to hire you...

5 We should all support each others gigs: This could work, except the average musician expects a door pass as a tribute to his or her talent, and even if they do spend money, can make a bottle of water last all night, or even for a full saxaphone solo on Footprints..

6 You can always take up teaching: your teacher got you into this position in the first place.

We have this debate every year because that is the exact fequency with which the Universities turn out another batch of highly talented musicians, almost all of whom are destined to a life of washing dishes, penury and/or teaching, and I am not sure which is worse. Teaching probably, as it perpetuates the system. At least washing dishes gets the dishes clean,and I am not really sure what penury entails. Not a lot, I suspect.