I have been thinking about the nature of Jam Sessions. In New York, jams are dominated by professionals, as perhaps they should be. In London, apparently, there is a jam every night of the week, mainly for professionals, but with amateur sit ins; some with a cover charge for the audience and musos in for free; others where they pass a bucket round and everyone tosses in a coin. Here in Melbourne, deep south capital of culture (not), jam sessions seem to come and go, and vary between the deadly serious rendition of (normally) bebop, and the entirely light hearted mangling of whatever tune springs to mind. No prizes for guessing where the Melbourne Jazz Jammers sit.
We have no jam sessions for professionals, for the simple reason that those few professionals that survive on Melbourne gigs are way too busy trying to earn a living and/or claw their way to the top. It shouldn't take long, as the top is remarkably close to the bottom.
It is a pity really, as jam sessions, free or not, are an easy entry point for people interested in listening to, or playing, jazz. I feel that they really help promote the jazz scene, and build an audience for up and coming musos.
The MJJ sessions are squarely aimed at the enthusiastic amateur. This invites disaster as there are always a few whose self esteem runs way ahead of their ability(*) . But in between the train wrecks, are moments of ballad mangling delight - a bunch of incompetents having fun is always entertaining, and the Jammers often have the audience numbers to prove it.
(*) It is often said that to be a good jazz piano player, you need a very high opinion of your own ability. True enough, and as they say, in my case, entirely justified...
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Sunday, October 9, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Sunday Arvo at the Lunatic Soup Kitchen
Sunday Arvo at the Lunatic Soup Kitchen, mouldering pile and watering hole of distinction in the grubby backstreets of Melbourne, Australia . Glen the Landlord was giving away free beer, but that was yesterday.
Ah yes, the jam, now let's see. Started well enough with the usual suspects Col, Frank and Brian, joined shortly thereafter by meself, Al The Jazz (drums) and Jack the Lad (trombone). Ali (tenor sax) joined the Captain, and then Keef sauntered in, as he does. Very good sauntering from Keef, we all thought.
The music ranged from Naima (Coltrane) to When My Baby Walks Down the Street (tin pan alley). Ali's friend/sister/complete bluddy stranger got up and sang My Funny Valentine followed by the Eva Cassidy arrangement of Autumn Leaves.. McCue played well until he fell for the old make-it-hard-for-the-piano-player trick, and got lumbered with You Don't Know What Love Is, played in entirely the wrong tempo by all concerned. You Don't Know What the Tune Is, played by all unconcerned, more like. Rob retired to the bar to contemplate the sight of four sets of feet tapping away, to four different beats..
The Jazz was so good on the sticks, we had a struggle persuading Hirsh to take over, but eventually he conquered his nerves (hah!) and positively ripped through Bernie's Tune, One For My Father, and a coupla others. Somewhere in the middle of all that, a young lady aged about 10 got up and played some solo piano. Precocious brat, disgustingly confident, quite good. Shouldn't be allowed. Then Noriyo from Kyoto stepped up and played keys for fine renditions of Ipanema and Satin Doll, and will hopefully do so again.
An entertaining afternoon, with an audience that stayed, drank and gossiped as they should. It ended with the usual riotous assembly ripping out a fine version of Doxy then comprehensively murdering Route 66, We'll probably do it all again next week, only better, or worse, or backwards.
My Funny Valentine , by the way, is no laughing matter. Autumn Leaves, but it keeps coming back. We didn't play Summertime., and most of the other tunes weren't much better. There is nothing wrong with a jazz waltz chart that a box of matches couldn't fix. Captain Chaos could organise fours without total confusion resulting, but he prefers not to, and from an entertainment value standpoint, I think he is on to something.
Ah yes, the jam, now let's see. Started well enough with the usual suspects Col, Frank and Brian, joined shortly thereafter by meself, Al The Jazz (drums) and Jack the Lad (trombone). Ali (tenor sax) joined the Captain, and then Keef sauntered in, as he does. Very good sauntering from Keef, we all thought.
The music ranged from Naima (Coltrane) to When My Baby Walks Down the Street (tin pan alley). Ali's friend/sister/complete bluddy stranger got up and sang My Funny Valentine followed by the Eva Cassidy arrangement of Autumn Leaves.. McCue played well until he fell for the old make-it-hard-for-the-piano-player trick, and got lumbered with You Don't Know What Love Is, played in entirely the wrong tempo by all concerned. You Don't Know What the Tune Is, played by all unconcerned, more like. Rob retired to the bar to contemplate the sight of four sets of feet tapping away, to four different beats..
The Jazz was so good on the sticks, we had a struggle persuading Hirsh to take over, but eventually he conquered his nerves (hah!) and positively ripped through Bernie's Tune, One For My Father, and a coupla others. Somewhere in the middle of all that, a young lady aged about 10 got up and played some solo piano. Precocious brat, disgustingly confident, quite good. Shouldn't be allowed. Then Noriyo from Kyoto stepped up and played keys for fine renditions of Ipanema and Satin Doll, and will hopefully do so again.
An entertaining afternoon, with an audience that stayed, drank and gossiped as they should. It ended with the usual riotous assembly ripping out a fine version of Doxy then comprehensively murdering Route 66, We'll probably do it all again next week, only better, or worse, or backwards.
My Funny Valentine , by the way, is no laughing matter. Autumn Leaves, but it keeps coming back. We didn't play Summertime., and most of the other tunes weren't much better. There is nothing wrong with a jazz waltz chart that a box of matches couldn't fix. Captain Chaos could organise fours without total confusion resulting, but he prefers not to, and from an entertainment value standpoint, I think he is on to something.
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