Yet more highlights from this year's Chicago Blues Fest, which took place June 5-8 in Grant Park:
• Tremendously entertaining vocalist Liz Mandville vamped it up in front of her excellent backing band, The BluesCrowns. Attired in a short, silver-sequined getup and shaking what her mama gave her, Mandville sang clever and sexy original material with great gusto. And The BluesCrowns, whom I mistakenly called The Blue Points in an earlier post (remember the cats from the Netherlands who backed Little Willie Littlefield and who I flew with from Cincy?), were spot-on, providing terrific accompaniment on saxophone, guitar, keyboards and upright bass.
• I always enjoy catching up with Otis Taylor, one of the most intriguing voices in blues today. His latest recording, Recapturing the Banjo, provided the theme for his show, as he was joined by Don Vappie and Guy Davis, on tenor banjo and harmonica respectively, to forcefully restate the instrument's African origins. Daughter Cassie Taylor provided the solid bass support, and an extraordinary young female violinist added a lively stringband dimension. Picking the five-string banjo and guitar, Taylor displayed a unique yet rooted approach, and sang in a dusty, powerful holler. The crew concluded the highly engaging show with a call-and-response throwdown on the "Hambone," as Davis came out front and performed a version of the age-old body-slapping dance.
• Years ago, I used to see diminutive singer Chick Rogers knocking out the late-night crowds at Kingston Mines, and often wondered what became of her. Apparently, she put the blues life behind her for a spell to perform gospel music. Well, she's back and, excuse the cliché, better than ever. Her voice filled the park from the Crossroads stage as she kicked the blues in the ass, her big vocals bursting with the bravado and positivity of someone who's seen the worst and lived to tell the tale.
• Theodis Ealey is an entertaining enough blues and R&B cat, but from his South Florida shows, I always felt like he was just playing the jive BS many white folks expect at a blues club. However, Ealey, who hails from Natchez, Miss., performed a superb and highly personal unplugged show with his significantly older brothers YZ and Melwin. Their teasing banter and reminiscences made the show even more special.
• Guitarist Lightnin' Malcolm came on like the second coming of Junior Kimbrough, as he hopped around the stage and played the huge, majestic chords associated with the Mississippi Hill Country master and his associate R.L. Burnside. Fittingly, he was backed by Burnside's son, Cedric Burnside, on the drums, who can truly be considered a master of the idiom. Tunes like Kimbrough's "All Night Long" and R.L.'s "Jumper on the Line" kept audiences bouncing and boogeying under the broiling afternoon sun.
• Neither advanced years nor soaring temperatures could keep T-Model Ford in check. In fact, the octogengarian Hill Country bluesman just didn't want to stop. With his cherubic 10-year-old grandson expertly beating the drums behind him, T-Model locked onto a groove like a pitbull on a mailman, his songs going on and on in mesmerizing fashion. At one point, a woman came onstage to tell him to wrap it up; T-Model nodded, took a nip from a bottle of Jack and proceeded to launch into a 20-minute boogie.
• Lil' Ed Williams remains one of the most-entertaining blues performers in the business, which he proved again with his bandshell show. The vertically challenged bluesman ruled the enormous stage with his athletic antics and, even more so, with his brute-force slide guitar and huge baritone vocals. His Blues Imperials, as always, laid down an amped and exciting traditonal-meets-contemporary blues sound, with standouts including the hilarious "Icicles in My Meatloaf" and the Ed Head jump-blues favorite, "Chicken, Gravy and Biscuits."
• Barbara Lynn's was probably my favorite of all of the bandshell shows. The lefty guitarist and still girlishly soulful vocalist from the Gulfcoast played to her strengths as she performed one excellent, old-school R&B gem after another, with topnotch backing from guitarist Lil' Buck Sinegal and his horn-fueled Buckaroos. The highlight, of course, was an emotion-laden rendition of her 1962 chart-topper "You'll Lose a Good Thing."
OK, we're coming to the end of what I can remember of this year's Chicago Blues Fest. Next time: I get soaked to the bone but still manage to catch great performances by Paul Geremia, the Victory Travelers, Magic Slim and B.B. King.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Fountains of Kenny
Before taking the stage in the back room of Radio-active Records last night, Kenny Millions snagged a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerated case at the front of the Fort Lauderdale store. He'd need to stay hydrated for the intense, physically demanding and unflaggingly entertaining one-man show he was about to unleash on the sparse group of hipsters and noise aficionados gathered among the bins full of vinyl records.
For his second monthly performance at Radio-active, Millions once again brought out the mini-guitar but added the alto saxophone to his arsenal of tenor and clarinet. Poker-faced and rocking on his heels, Millions laid down a wall of electronic distortion, which he looped on a sampler and over which he then blew sax and clarinet. The sound was simply HUGE, as Millions reveled in the sonics he pulled from the guitar, activating various distortion pedals and creating industrial-grade grunge with a whammy bar. Always an intuitive and feel-motivated performer, Millions was obviously feeling the guitar last night, as he featured it more prominently than in his May concert here.
Of course, the horns did come into play, as Millions blew with tremendous force and utilized techniques he had honed playing alongside heavy avant-garde jazz cats such as Rahsaan Roland Kirk and Sam Rivers. But also ingrained in his sensibility are the examples of the great blues and R&B honkers he had seen and heard growing up in Detroit, the ones who put a premium on keeping audiences entertained. And certainly, Millions did just that, as he dropped to his knees, mumbled obscenities into his mouthpiece, rhythmically beat the guitar slung at his side, spat water onto the concrete floor in front of the stage and ultimately collapsed into a catatonic heap on the lip of the stage, his eyes glassy, his guitar buzzing.
For some of the most exciting and vital musical performance art you're likely to hear in South Florida, be sure to check out Millions on the last Thursday of the month at Radio-Active, which is located in the Gateway Plaza on East Sunrise Boulevard. The only thing predictable about the show is that it will take place July 31.
For his second monthly performance at Radio-active, Millions once again brought out the mini-guitar but added the alto saxophone to his arsenal of tenor and clarinet. Poker-faced and rocking on his heels, Millions laid down a wall of electronic distortion, which he looped on a sampler and over which he then blew sax and clarinet. The sound was simply HUGE, as Millions reveled in the sonics he pulled from the guitar, activating various distortion pedals and creating industrial-grade grunge with a whammy bar. Always an intuitive and feel-motivated performer, Millions was obviously feeling the guitar last night, as he featured it more prominently than in his May concert here.
Of course, the horns did come into play, as Millions blew with tremendous force and utilized techniques he had honed playing alongside heavy avant-garde jazz cats such as Rahsaan Roland Kirk and Sam Rivers. But also ingrained in his sensibility are the examples of the great blues and R&B honkers he had seen and heard growing up in Detroit, the ones who put a premium on keeping audiences entertained. And certainly, Millions did just that, as he dropped to his knees, mumbled obscenities into his mouthpiece, rhythmically beat the guitar slung at his side, spat water onto the concrete floor in front of the stage and ultimately collapsed into a catatonic heap on the lip of the stage, his eyes glassy, his guitar buzzing.
For some of the most exciting and vital musical performance art you're likely to hear in South Florida, be sure to check out Millions on the last Thursday of the month at Radio-Active, which is located in the Gateway Plaza on East Sunrise Boulevard. The only thing predictable about the show is that it will take place July 31.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Chicago Blues, part deux
OK, as promised, more highlights from the 25th annual Chicago Blues Fest, which took place June 5-8 in Grant Park:
• For years, I made a point of getting to the park early to see Mississippi cane-fife master Otha Turner and his Rising Star Fife and Drum Band. The rousing polyrhythms, cut through by Turner's sweet-sounding fife, provided the call to party, as well as a connection to the very early roots of the blues. Although Turner, well into his 90s, passed away in 2003, his family carries on the tradition, with teenage granddaughter Sharde Thomas piping beautifully and singing in a young, but charming voice. More Thomases pound out the neck-snapping rhythms that insist upon body-movement. To hear this band doing a blues classic like "Sittin' on Top of the World" is to know just where this music came from.
• Always a treat to catch up with the multitalented Harmonica Hinds, a laid-back performer who blows some tasty harp and sings in a distinctively dusty manner. Keeping time with a tambourine attached to his foot, Hinds was accompanied by blues legacy Eddie Taylor Jr., whose subtle rhythms on a big jazz guitar were a perfect match.
• Although he's best known for providing the rock-steady drumming for the likes of Little Walter, Howlin' Wolf and the Butterfield Blues Band, Sam Lay is also an accomplished country-blues interpreter, accompanying a well-lived in voice with some fine acoustic guitar picking. While the wind had ripped off the tent covering the Juke Joint stage, Lay bore up well under the blistering sun while decked out in a sparkling gold shirt with matching shoes.
• Jimmy Johnson is among the most underrated blues artists around. Best known for his exciting guitar style, Johnson switched over to keyboards for his Maxwell Street Corner performance, his soulful high-tenor in great shape on a set of contemporary blues.
• A sizzling R&B revue was the highlight of the bandshell shows that evening, featuring a rotating roster of Chicago hitmakers such as Ruby Andrews, Cicero Blake and Sugar Pie DeSanto, all of whom were in excellent voice and entertaining as hell. Under the direction of saxophone stalwart Willie Henderson, the brass-fueled band was snap-tight. As I've often said, the opportunity to hear great artists such as these outside of Chicago is rare.
Other Friday night bandshell shows included an animated Koko Taylor, seemingly in good health, and the reliable Eddy "The Chief" Clearwater accompanied by an all-star crew, but the latter show left me with a bad taste. Clearwater has a new album to hawk, and he did just that, playing it, I believe in its entirety, to the exclusion of any other tunes from his vast catalog. His guests included Ronnie Baker Brooks, who came on-stage with his band and replaced The Chief's guys, dramatically altering the feel of the music, as well as Jimmy Johnson, Otis Clay and Billy Branch, who also appear on the recording. By all means, plug your new disc, tell people to buy it and you'll sign it for 'em, but this just felt like an infomercial.
More Chicago Blues Fest to come: Liz Mandville shakes it in a silver sheathe, Otis Taylor recaptures the banjo and T-Model Ford just won't quit
• For years, I made a point of getting to the park early to see Mississippi cane-fife master Otha Turner and his Rising Star Fife and Drum Band. The rousing polyrhythms, cut through by Turner's sweet-sounding fife, provided the call to party, as well as a connection to the very early roots of the blues. Although Turner, well into his 90s, passed away in 2003, his family carries on the tradition, with teenage granddaughter Sharde Thomas piping beautifully and singing in a young, but charming voice. More Thomases pound out the neck-snapping rhythms that insist upon body-movement. To hear this band doing a blues classic like "Sittin' on Top of the World" is to know just where this music came from.
• Always a treat to catch up with the multitalented Harmonica Hinds, a laid-back performer who blows some tasty harp and sings in a distinctively dusty manner. Keeping time with a tambourine attached to his foot, Hinds was accompanied by blues legacy Eddie Taylor Jr., whose subtle rhythms on a big jazz guitar were a perfect match.
• Although he's best known for providing the rock-steady drumming for the likes of Little Walter, Howlin' Wolf and the Butterfield Blues Band, Sam Lay is also an accomplished country-blues interpreter, accompanying a well-lived in voice with some fine acoustic guitar picking. While the wind had ripped off the tent covering the Juke Joint stage, Lay bore up well under the blistering sun while decked out in a sparkling gold shirt with matching shoes.
• Jimmy Johnson is among the most underrated blues artists around. Best known for his exciting guitar style, Johnson switched over to keyboards for his Maxwell Street Corner performance, his soulful high-tenor in great shape on a set of contemporary blues.
• A sizzling R&B revue was the highlight of the bandshell shows that evening, featuring a rotating roster of Chicago hitmakers such as Ruby Andrews, Cicero Blake and Sugar Pie DeSanto, all of whom were in excellent voice and entertaining as hell. Under the direction of saxophone stalwart Willie Henderson, the brass-fueled band was snap-tight. As I've often said, the opportunity to hear great artists such as these outside of Chicago is rare.
Other Friday night bandshell shows included an animated Koko Taylor, seemingly in good health, and the reliable Eddy "The Chief" Clearwater accompanied by an all-star crew, but the latter show left me with a bad taste. Clearwater has a new album to hawk, and he did just that, playing it, I believe in its entirety, to the exclusion of any other tunes from his vast catalog. His guests included Ronnie Baker Brooks, who came on-stage with his band and replaced The Chief's guys, dramatically altering the feel of the music, as well as Jimmy Johnson, Otis Clay and Billy Branch, who also appear on the recording. By all means, plug your new disc, tell people to buy it and you'll sign it for 'em, but this just felt like an infomercial.
More Chicago Blues Fest to come: Liz Mandville shakes it in a silver sheathe, Otis Taylor recaptures the banjo and T-Model Ford just won't quit
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Coryell + Monasterios = Monster jazz show
When I heard that Miami pianist Silvano Monasterios was joining the Larry Coryell Trio for its Saturday night concert, I thought it would be a trainwreck. After all, Coryell's tightknit group with bassist Mark Egan and drummer Paul Wertico hardly needs embellishment. And, as good as the Venezuelan-born Monasterios is, it seemed like piano would just clutter up the works. But midway through the second song of their show at the Miniaci Performing Arts Center, my concerns vanished.
The group jumped from the gate with Coryell's buoyant "Good Citizen Swallow," a homage to the bassist-composer and longtime Coryell colleague, and sure enough, Coryell and Monasterios seemed to be playing atop one another. The same thing happened at the start of Bill Evans' lovely "Very Early," but, like the pros they are, the two quickly recalibrated and found the right mix. By the time they launched into the tricky Monk tune "Trinkle Tinkle," they had found the groove that would keep them sailing smoothly for the rest of the 2-plus hour show and keep the packed house riveted.
Coryell was in excellent form, his liquid phrasing on his hollow-body jazz box sounding as easy as breathing for the jazz and fusion vet. During the course of the evening, he'd return to Monk with a brilliant read of "Well You Needn't," pick a lovely version of "They Can't Take That Away From Me" on acoustic guitar with some intriguing flourishes, and simply soar on fusiony tunes such as "Spaces Revisited" and "Dragon Gate." The latter featured some jaw-dropping solos from drummer Wertico, who indeed thrashed like the tail of an angry fire-breather. Can't say enough about the always-tuneful Egan, one of the few bassists you can't wait to hear solo. Coryell featured him prominently throughout, and gave him the spotlight on a gorgeous new tune titled "Tracy," which the guitarist wrote for his wife.
But one of the highlights of the evening was a duet between Coryell and Monasterios on the lilting "Someday My Prince Will Come." Sigh-inducingly lovely, it called up the likes of Bill Evans and Jim Hall, but was scrupulously original and contained plenty of surprises, often calling up the darker aspects of the wistful tune.
The South Florida Jazz organization's Jazz Impressions series concluded its season on a very high note. It was great to see a nearly full house, particularly after some concerts, such as the emotionally powerful performance by Carmen Lundy, were somewhat lightly attended. Here's hoping SFJ's next season will keep the momentum going, although most jazz acts don't have the drawing power or crossover appeal of a Larry Coryell.
OK, NEXT post we'll get back to Chicago Blues Fest highlights. Most likely.
The group jumped from the gate with Coryell's buoyant "Good Citizen Swallow," a homage to the bassist-composer and longtime Coryell colleague, and sure enough, Coryell and Monasterios seemed to be playing atop one another. The same thing happened at the start of Bill Evans' lovely "Very Early," but, like the pros they are, the two quickly recalibrated and found the right mix. By the time they launched into the tricky Monk tune "Trinkle Tinkle," they had found the groove that would keep them sailing smoothly for the rest of the 2-plus hour show and keep the packed house riveted.
Coryell was in excellent form, his liquid phrasing on his hollow-body jazz box sounding as easy as breathing for the jazz and fusion vet. During the course of the evening, he'd return to Monk with a brilliant read of "Well You Needn't," pick a lovely version of "They Can't Take That Away From Me" on acoustic guitar with some intriguing flourishes, and simply soar on fusiony tunes such as "Spaces Revisited" and "Dragon Gate." The latter featured some jaw-dropping solos from drummer Wertico, who indeed thrashed like the tail of an angry fire-breather. Can't say enough about the always-tuneful Egan, one of the few bassists you can't wait to hear solo. Coryell featured him prominently throughout, and gave him the spotlight on a gorgeous new tune titled "Tracy," which the guitarist wrote for his wife.
But one of the highlights of the evening was a duet between Coryell and Monasterios on the lilting "Someday My Prince Will Come." Sigh-inducingly lovely, it called up the likes of Bill Evans and Jim Hall, but was scrupulously original and contained plenty of surprises, often calling up the darker aspects of the wistful tune.
The South Florida Jazz organization's Jazz Impressions series concluded its season on a very high note. It was great to see a nearly full house, particularly after some concerts, such as the emotionally powerful performance by Carmen Lundy, were somewhat lightly attended. Here's hoping SFJ's next season will keep the momentum going, although most jazz acts don't have the drawing power or crossover appeal of a Larry Coryell.
OK, NEXT post we'll get back to Chicago Blues Fest highlights. Most likely.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Who's really killing jazz?
A promoter for Live Nation was quoted in the Sun-Sentinel yesterday saying that not only was his company not going to bring jazz to a newly proposed music fest on Fort Lauderdale Beach, but that they were doing their damnedest to drive a stake through the heart of America's indigenous art form. "We're doing everything we can to eliminate jazz from American culture, so no jazz!" Mike Luba announced at a City Commission meeting Tuesday. (Check out http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/broward/sfl-flblive0618sbjun18,0,1550220.story)
Today, the Sentinel printed a story clarifying that Luba was just joshing. Ha! Good one, Mikey! Luba insisted that he loves jazz and that Live Nation presents plenty of jazz concerts, but apparently, this wasn't overwhelmingly obvious to readers who flooded Luba and the Sentinel with angry e-mails. (Link to http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/broward/sfl-flbjazz0619sbjun19,0,4756900.story)
Regardless, even if Luba and Live Nation really were plotting in some smoky backroom to put a shiv between the ribs of the genre, the public may already be doing their dirty work for them. A collective shrug seemed to greet the closing of Arturo Sandoval Jazz Club earlier this year, only one of the best (if perhaps priciest) jazz venues down here. And where was the outrage when the long-running Hollywood Jazz Fest, which presented the likes of Sonny Rollins, Dizzy Gillespie, Betty Carter and Gerry Mulligan to name just a few, called it a day? And what the hell was the JVC Jazz Fest thinking booking such a lame lineup for its Miami edition, favoring tropical and R&B acts over real jazz? I can tell you exactly what they were thinking: Most of South Florida could give a rat's ass about jazz.
Sure, there are some bright spots on the horizon, such as the upcoming Jazz Roots series at the Arsht Center (beginning in November), the fine program at the Coral Gables Congregational Church (check out the mighty Irvin Mayfield on July 17), and South Florida Jazz's Jazz Impressions series, which wraps up Saturday night (6/21) with Larry Coryell. But if people don't go out and support these concerts, then the real assassin won't be Live Nation but rather an apathetic public.
Today, the Sentinel printed a story clarifying that Luba was just joshing. Ha! Good one, Mikey! Luba insisted that he loves jazz and that Live Nation presents plenty of jazz concerts, but apparently, this wasn't overwhelmingly obvious to readers who flooded Luba and the Sentinel with angry e-mails. (Link to http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/broward/sfl-flbjazz0619sbjun19,0,4756900.story)
Regardless, even if Luba and Live Nation really were plotting in some smoky backroom to put a shiv between the ribs of the genre, the public may already be doing their dirty work for them. A collective shrug seemed to greet the closing of Arturo Sandoval Jazz Club earlier this year, only one of the best (if perhaps priciest) jazz venues down here. And where was the outrage when the long-running Hollywood Jazz Fest, which presented the likes of Sonny Rollins, Dizzy Gillespie, Betty Carter and Gerry Mulligan to name just a few, called it a day? And what the hell was the JVC Jazz Fest thinking booking such a lame lineup for its Miami edition, favoring tropical and R&B acts over real jazz? I can tell you exactly what they were thinking: Most of South Florida could give a rat's ass about jazz.
Sure, there are some bright spots on the horizon, such as the upcoming Jazz Roots series at the Arsht Center (beginning in November), the fine program at the Coral Gables Congregational Church (check out the mighty Irvin Mayfield on July 17), and South Florida Jazz's Jazz Impressions series, which wraps up Saturday night (6/21) with Larry Coryell. But if people don't go out and support these concerts, then the real assassin won't be Live Nation but rather an apathetic public.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
My skin is peeling and my socks are still drying, but damned if this year's Chicago Blues Fest (June 5-8) wasn't worth every epidermis-scorching, clothes-drenching moment. Sunburns and cloudbursts didn't prevent me from wandering throughout Grant Park for four days with a goofy grin plastered to my mug, soaking up seven stages worth of blues for 9-10 hours a day. As usual, the side stages often presented some of the most riveting performances
Some highlights:
• Louisiana Red (Iverson Minter) put on a typically heartfelt performance on the Louisiana Bayou Stage, both solo acoustic and accompanied by a bassist and second guitarist. Red remains a personal favorite, his writing and delivery quite unusual and deeply autobiographical. His rough-hewn, emotional voice and keening guitar make your eyebrows knit and your head shake from side to side.
• Little Willie Littlefield boogied his ass off! Performing solo, with a band and then taking to the bandshell stage as a solo warmup to B.B. King's set, Littlefield never stopped grinning or pounding hell out of his piano. A true character, the boogie king made a big show of removing his right shoe and placing it atop his piano before stomping the stage with his stockinged foot. (Cool side note: I flew in from Cincinatti with Littlefield's backup band, the excellent Blue Points, from the Netherlands, which is where Littlefield also lives.)
• An unplugged round-robin of Chicago blues stars on the Mississippi Juke Joint Stage displayed a wealth of local talent. Guitarists Jimmy Burns, Carl Weathersby and John Primer, Willie Big Eyes Smith (on harmonica) and son Kenny Smith (on drums) traded licks and vocals as they jammed on each other's tunes.
• Don't know much about this cat, but L.C. Ulmer was among my favorite acts of the weekend. Hailing from Mississippi, the country-blues master, 80, simply astounded with his idiosyncratic guitar and vocals. If anybody knows more about him or his recordings, please let me know.
• Attired in Satan's pajamas, Piano C. Red hosted an all-star session as he welcomed local players up to the Maxwell Street Corner stage to do a song or two before launching into his own elegantly rollicking boogie-woogie.
OK, this was just Day 1. In the bandshell, I enjoyed the ever-brassy Big Time Sarah, and Johnny Winter was better than the last time I saw him, but I was disappointed with Duke Robillard's tribute to Louis Jordan. My friend Bruce Fine put it best: "Louis Jordan is supposed to be fun. That wasn't fun." Didn't even do "Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens."
Next post: More dispatches from Chicago Blues Fest — fife 'n' drums, banjos and Sam Lay's golden shoes.
Some highlights:
• Louisiana Red (Iverson Minter) put on a typically heartfelt performance on the Louisiana Bayou Stage, both solo acoustic and accompanied by a bassist and second guitarist. Red remains a personal favorite, his writing and delivery quite unusual and deeply autobiographical. His rough-hewn, emotional voice and keening guitar make your eyebrows knit and your head shake from side to side.
• Little Willie Littlefield boogied his ass off! Performing solo, with a band and then taking to the bandshell stage as a solo warmup to B.B. King's set, Littlefield never stopped grinning or pounding hell out of his piano. A true character, the boogie king made a big show of removing his right shoe and placing it atop his piano before stomping the stage with his stockinged foot. (Cool side note: I flew in from Cincinatti with Littlefield's backup band, the excellent Blue Points, from the Netherlands, which is where Littlefield also lives.)
• An unplugged round-robin of Chicago blues stars on the Mississippi Juke Joint Stage displayed a wealth of local talent. Guitarists Jimmy Burns, Carl Weathersby and John Primer, Willie Big Eyes Smith (on harmonica) and son Kenny Smith (on drums) traded licks and vocals as they jammed on each other's tunes.
• Don't know much about this cat, but L.C. Ulmer was among my favorite acts of the weekend. Hailing from Mississippi, the country-blues master, 80, simply astounded with his idiosyncratic guitar and vocals. If anybody knows more about him or his recordings, please let me know.
• Attired in Satan's pajamas, Piano C. Red hosted an all-star session as he welcomed local players up to the Maxwell Street Corner stage to do a song or two before launching into his own elegantly rollicking boogie-woogie.
OK, this was just Day 1. In the bandshell, I enjoyed the ever-brassy Big Time Sarah, and Johnny Winter was better than the last time I saw him, but I was disappointed with Duke Robillard's tribute to Louis Jordan. My friend Bruce Fine put it best: "Louis Jordan is supposed to be fun. That wasn't fun." Didn't even do "Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens."
Next post: More dispatches from Chicago Blues Fest — fife 'n' drums, banjos and Sam Lay's golden shoes.
Weinberg hits the airwaves
Just a quick note: If you're anywhere near a radio Friday (6/20) afternoon, tune into WLRN (91.3-FM) to hear my interview with South Florida jazz bassist and composer Jamie Ousley. An incredibly gifted musician, Ousley talks about his excellent new recording, O Sorriso Dela, which he recorded in Japan with longtime pals Phil Strange on piano and Larry Marshall on drums. Thanks to my big brother Ed Bell, a true hero of the local jazz and blues scenes, for putting me on his fine South Florida Arts Beat program. The show airs from noon to 1 p.m. and I'll be on sometime during the hour. As Ed would tell ya, "Enjoy."
Welcome, jazz and blues lovers!
Hey folks,
Welcome to BWJAZZANDBLUES. Based in South Florida, I've been covering the jazz and blues scenes for various publications for nearly 20 years. In that time, I've interviewed everyone from Milt Jackson and Betty Carter to B.B. King and Buddy Guy, gained invaluable insights into the music, drank way too much Canadian whiskey and amassed a floorboard-sagging collection of CDs and LPs.
Right now, I'm still recovering from the remarkable Chicago Blues Fest, which took place June 5-8 at the sprawling Grant Park. Packed with great old-timers such as Little Willie Littlefield, Piano C. Red and the seemingly inexhaustible T-Model Ford, and acts you don't often see outside Chicago, the event is one of a kind; this year was my 11th. Of course, jazz was also on the menu, as I made late-night forays to Fred Anderson's Velvet Lounge and the venerable Andy's, where I talked shop to the wee hours with saxophonist Frank Catalano and his excellent rhythm team.
A full account of my Chicago rambles will appear here soon, as well as CD and concert reviews, previews and interviews. You can also find my ramblings in the pages of Jazziz magazine (Jazziz.com), Hot House (Hothouseflorida.com) and the Sun-Sentinel (Sun-sentinel.com). I hope to stimulate conversation with fellow jazz and blues lovers and welcome any comments and suggestions at Bobweinberg@mac.com.
Welcome to BWJAZZANDBLUES. Based in South Florida, I've been covering the jazz and blues scenes for various publications for nearly 20 years. In that time, I've interviewed everyone from Milt Jackson and Betty Carter to B.B. King and Buddy Guy, gained invaluable insights into the music, drank way too much Canadian whiskey and amassed a floorboard-sagging collection of CDs and LPs.
Right now, I'm still recovering from the remarkable Chicago Blues Fest, which took place June 5-8 at the sprawling Grant Park. Packed with great old-timers such as Little Willie Littlefield, Piano C. Red and the seemingly inexhaustible T-Model Ford, and acts you don't often see outside Chicago, the event is one of a kind; this year was my 11th. Of course, jazz was also on the menu, as I made late-night forays to Fred Anderson's Velvet Lounge and the venerable Andy's, where I talked shop to the wee hours with saxophonist Frank Catalano and his excellent rhythm team.
A full account of my Chicago rambles will appear here soon, as well as CD and concert reviews, previews and interviews. You can also find my ramblings in the pages of Jazziz magazine (Jazziz.com), Hot House (Hothouseflorida.com) and the Sun-Sentinel (Sun-sentinel.com). I hope to stimulate conversation with fellow jazz and blues lovers and welcome any comments and suggestions at Bobweinberg@mac.com.
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