Is This Guy For Real?: The Unbelievable Andy Kaufman
Box Brown
First Second
A graphic novel about Andy Kaufman written and drawn by the guy that paid tribute to Andre The Giant using the same form – I’m in! Read More
Liran Donin’s 1000 Boats
8 Songs
Cavalo Records
Led Bib, one of the great modern jazz groups, has many reasons to be celebrated. Cutting edge music that nods to the tradition without being mired in it. Their bassist, Liran Donin, strikes out now with his own group, and his own compositions. 8 Songs is a stunning set of jazz pieces featuring Donin’s compositional and playing chops and his Led Bib bandmate, alto saxophonist Chris Williams, is along for the ride. The rest of the group includes explosive drummer Ben Brown, tenor saxophonist Josh Arcoloeo and pianist Maria Chiara Argirò.
It’s a wonderful group sound – a dynamic bunch of players and Donin’s tunes allow space for all to contribute and for a giant waft of ‘band-sound’ to emerge. On The Story of Annette and Maurice the saxophones circle one another, pulled along by Brown’s stabbing, propulsive drums and the duelling ostinatos from Donin and Argirò.
These are songs that surge and pull, that move always.
There are deep contemplative ballads (Alma Sophia) and lithe, post-bop workouts (Tel Aviv to Ramallah).
Opener, I Can See Tarifa, sets the tone in so many ways. Donin’s bass lifting its head up and out from the pool of piano. A hypnotic rhythm builds beneath and the saxes go Afrobeat, dancing around one another as the music continues to swell and grow. Final track, Free (there are nine songs on ‘8 Songs’, but hey, what’s in a name) features the saxophones soaring – again. And the drums and wordless vocals build in support. It’s all at once joyous and deeply complex – it’s as if something from Stevie Wonder’s Songs In The Key of Life was given a makeover by Avishai Cohen.
That’s a place I want to be. 
And that’s why 8 Songs works for me. Some of the best playing and deepest, strongest jazz compositions I’ve heard in some time. A mesmerising debut effort from a supremely talented group.
Skinny Hobos
Lucifer (ep)
Skinny Hobos
I really liked the band’s debut self-titled album – and that was despite not liking the band-name or cover-image. That’s good though, it meant the music cut through; it’s the music that matters after all…
And I said somewhere near the end of that review that when the dust settled the band’s voice would emerge, there was a hint of originality about it – but there was more to come. Well that more has arrived. Read More
Rufus Marigold
Ross Murray
Earth’s End
Ross Murray’s Rufus Marigold comic strip began life online – now it’s a book – expanded, new panels, new stories. It’s a wonderful examination of social anxiety. Much like Brent Williams’ powerful Out of the Woods graphic novel it is doing great work for explaining lived-experience with mental illness; for normalising, de-stigmatising.
I’m not an anxiety-sufferer, but, like anyone, I know the simple pit-of-the-stomach concrete-feeling of certain situations, the butterflying effect of others. I can only imagine how deep that can go. But Rufus Marigold, a genius comic creation that surely owes a debt to not only to the great Daniel Clowes but also Adrian Tomine, has helped me to understand some of the truly grueling moments a person can be subjected to; we’re talking moments where a phone call or an invitation is too much – the over-thinking kicking in instantly, the doubt and then an embarrassment. The coping mechanisms – such as drinking – which only deliver further, more brutal episodes if anything. 
Rufus is an ape. But he works in an office with humans. This worker-ape is therefore instantly noticeable as being different, as seeming out of sorts with the others; visually we’re told that he presents differently.
One of the greatest tricks in Ross Murray’s work here is that along with being thoughtful, compassionate and wise it is deeply, profoundly funny. There are awkward moments, awkward truths, awkward banter and there are such facile and futile solutions as running away, hiding, drinking heavily. These are dumb moves. But they are the only moves Marigold has. These aren’t so much solutions as just the immediate reactions.
What’s funny, most often, is the situation. And how easily we recognise ourselves, co-workers past or present, family or friends on either side of the dialogues in these pages. We can all feel like Rufus, Or at least know someone who presents and reacts in a similar manner. But just as often we can feel like the people on the other side of the conversation – sometimes well-meaning and aware, just as often completely oblivious, eventually frustrated without much more than a tiny smattering of empathy.
As with Out of the Woods I read this cover to cover and then again. And again. And each time I thought that it should be on the required reading for final years at high school, or a university course. 
There are of course plenty of fantastic graphic novelists operating in New Zealand, it’s a medium that probably suits our distinct shrug of self-effacing humour, our she’ll be right and soldier-on mentality. It’s wonderful seeing the other side of that being presented now as well. The fact that things are not often right, barely ever okay, they’re just what they are and though we soldier-on that’s hardly ever the very best way to go about it.
Rufus Marigold feels all at once like a distillation of the best Netflix comedy special, the funniest Flight of the Conchords song, the continuation of John Clarke’s deep understanding of the Kiwi psyche and a spiritual/philosophical text; a guide book then for these curious, confusing, wonderful and heartbreaking times.
^^^^^ That’s me not being able to recommend this highly enough, by the way. ^^^^^
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Nate Smith
Pocket Change
Ropeadope LLC
Nate Smith, master drummer – as a composer and musician he is both bandleader and session-sideman. He’s racking up the credits – in the last week or so I’ve reviewed his James Gadson-aping star-support turn on the Jose James album of Bill Withers covers and his furious funk attack as a cameo-star with The Fearless Flyers. And there are plenty more examples to find and dig.
Plus there are his own albums – and tons of great Insta/YouTube/Facebook videos…
So here Smith presents a half-hour study in solo drums. Which is, I realise, something that’s almost entirely for drummers only.
Although, DJs, producers, bass-players, songwriters might all find application for this.
Some 30 years ago Bernard Purdie released a similar thing, a groove album (in fact there were two volumes). And that’s the obvious touchstone. Simple backbeat groove playing that then branches out. We hear, over two and three-minute running time, fills creeping in, clever alternate sticking, cymbals being choked, ghost-notes piling up, grooves are being built and then expounded upon – and it’s all for education rather than merely showing off; the most musical drumming you might hear in a solo context.
There’s plenty of space in these grooves (Get Down, Get Down and DumDum). At other times Smith builds to thunder (‘Spress Thyself, Big/Little Five). There’s even a tribute to Tony Allen’s rubbery, elasticated feel (Ghost Thud) where Smith keeps a simple groove firing and manages that Allen-trick of offering surprising mid-meter fills that never confuse or complicate, that seem both surprising and simply par for the course.
Inspiration here for drummers of all ages and perhaps for musicians wanting to cop ideas, or merely hear how drums can be used.
And of course, in keeping with one of the album title’s meanings it’s important to remember these are just the offcuts he had lying around. It’s a business card of sorts, but it’s by no means all this great musician is capable of providing.
Check it out down below:
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Bobo Stenson Trio
Contra La Indecis¡on
ECM
I’ve been listening to this album for some time now – this review is super late, the album’s been out over a year now, but I’m placing it here for those that may wish to find it, either because you’ve heard the album and loved it and want to hear someone’s take on it – or because this might send you to an exquisite set of deeply intuitive, calmed and wondrous trio jazz recordings.
The Bobo Stenson Trio is quite something. Formed by Swedish jazz pianist Stenson it has been in existence for four decades with bassist Anders Jormin and drummer Jon Fait. Stenson has a parallel career as a sideman working with the likes of Red Mitchell, Charles Lloyd, Jan Garbarek, Don Cherry, George Russell and Tomasz Stanko – but it’s through his trio that a full vocabulary has been developed. Covers, originals, improvisation – it all mingles, And this, the trio’s first record after a six-year gap is a quiet, purposeful set of pieces – it’s quite the revelation in fact.
The album opens with the nearly-title track (Canción Contra La Indecis¡on) which almost feels like a trio-take on the music (and mood) expressed across Keith Jarrett’s seminal Concert. Just a stateliness and serenity.
The drums usher in Doubt Thou The Stars and as clattering percussion dots the edges of the framework supplied by Stenson, a beautiful bowed bassline creates a counter-melody. There’s the nocturnal scrapings and crepuscular mood of many an ECM release but this is gentler, less alienating, more encouraging for an audience still feeling out anything free and improvised.
The bass then provides the intro to Three Shades of a House, so there’s a clear statement here that this is trio – this is a band, this is not only Bobo Stenson’s vision, rather it’s the sum of the parts and in a sense it’s as if we’re being given alternate views, new ways in to each tune. It’s as if they’re saying, ‘take a look at it from this angle now…’ 
The piano always calmly lyrical, the drums flicker and dart, stabbing and adding colour and texture, long-drawn bows from the bass to elongate and help the tunes in their state of what feels like constant evolution.
It’s just such a perfectly defined, exquisitely realised trio sound. The sound that comes from 40 years of working together, growing and now always knowing exactly what to do and when and how. Here we hear adaptations of Bartok and Satie as well as the band’s originals, all so perfectly produced by Manfred Eicher.
If you already know this group you’ll know to hear this – if this is your introdction you’re in for such a sweet treat.
Tedeschi Trucks Band
Signs
Fantasy
I’m truly happy that Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks met and married – and not just for the personal story, they’re making better music together. Which is not to say they were ever making bad music alone. Tedeschi has seven solo albums where she belts out blues licks and sings her heart out – she’s a hell of a guitar player as well as a great singer. Trucks, a guitar legend from the youngest of ages has a similar amount of albums out as the leader of the Derek Trucks Band but he’s also been the sideman (Eric Clapton) and part of a band (Allman Brothers) that’s part of his personal legacy, not just his musical one (his uncle was Allman Band drummer Bruce Trucks).
But when Tedeschi and Trucks met on a musical and personal level the Tedeschi Trucks Band gave birth to, if not new ideas then the perfect crystallisation – with Tedeschi joined by other vocalists and Trucks not the only lead guitarist. Still it’s their voices we listen for on these instruments – here on their fourth studio album it could only be Derek Trucks’
searing slide guitar on I’m Gonna Be There, and though Tedeschi is killing it also she truly shines a track later on When Will I Begin. For this 12-piece band this is a typical gospel-belter and both it and I’m Gonna Be There will be firm live favourites.
You get the feeling that Signs exists purely to pump new songs into the live repertoire; that studio albums by the Tedeschi Trucks Band are just the spit-balling of a talented horn section, some great guitar players, swampy, bluesy organists…etc, and that it all exists purely and only for the stage. As fine as the delicate ballad Strengthen What Remains is, a slip of a song in the context of the TTD canon, I still think of this as a live band, a living, breathing organism – hard-touring unit. And its audience will love most of what is served at it.
Certainly though Signs shows the band diversifying slightly, evolving, not so much taking risks but just thinking a little outside of the familiar patterns even as it sticks to the knitting.
The band welcomes guests that are connected to the wider legacy – Warren Haynes, Doyle Bramhall II – and there are moments where the simmering pot of blues, rock and gospel bubbles over into the jam-band world of the Allmans but in a surprising new way (Shame). Think too of the late-70s version of The Grateful Dead. These are the obvious reference points. But TTD keeps finding new ways of saying the same old things, or new things to say within the same old frameworks, it’s a case of either, or and then both. And the playing here is infectious, the singing is career-best and there’s a fire. A real fire. 
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Ed Motta
Criterion of the Senses
MustHave/Membran
Though this is a slightly more subdued effort than his mighty Perpetual Gateways (an easy contender for my record of the year in 2016) the consistency is still there, the quality so high on Ed Motta’s latest. Read More
The Fearless Flyers
The Fearless Flyers (ep)
Vulf Records
An off-shoot of Vulfpeck, The Fearless Flyers features guitarist Cory Wong and bassist Joe Dart along with friends of that band and collaborators Nate Smith (master session drummer) and Mark Lettieri (Snarky Puppy). The onus is on fun on this brief, fast and funky workout of an EP where “The Fearless Flyers” tear through Motown-aping moments and even some actual Motown moments – Sandra Crouch, drummer and percussionist extraordinaire is on hand to go at the tambourine in the way that only she can on the cover of Signed Sealed Deliver. Friend of the band Blake Mills guests on extra clever-af shred-guitar. 
But it’s when the Flyers take it down a half-notch, and become the Ritalin-baby version of Booker T and The M.G’s that they really get to cooking. Here that’s on Barbara (again with Crouch’s magical tambourine work) and the opener, Ace of Aces, a YouTube favourite that feels like your favourite music-nerd friends made you a three-minute super-cut mixtape of some killer funk grooves that were used as key hip-hop samples.
One the one hand this is hipster-fun. Sure. But it’s undeniably good. And just so perfect in it its tightness. Smith thrives on just snare, hi-hat and bass-drum. Dart is like Bootsy and Larry Graham and James Jamerson all rolled into one.
And Lettieri and Wong have fun weaving lines on Under The Sea / Flyers Drive and locking in super-tight for a rhythm-guitar chomp for the closer, Bicentenial – which has Tedeschi Trucks Band’s trombonist Elizabeth Lea as the star soloist.
It’s just a taster and all of these players are out doing so much of this anyway. But it’s still worth your time. Super-great fun.
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Anita Schwabe
Eat Your Greens
Rattle
I wanted to say something like this is a bunch of old-school jazz-heads playing old school jazz ‘heads’ for old schooled jazzheads – and leave it at that. The assignment ticked off. This is good! And jazz fans should check it. Job done. By all the players. And a rewarding listen. Read More
Rufus Wainright
Opera House; Wellington
Sunday, March 3
On stage to celebrate the 20th Anniversary of his debut self-tited album and with a follow-on set dedicated to its follow up album, Poses Rufus Wainwright and band delivered a classy show of costume-changes and songs – it was all beautifully performed. It was at the very least a tick-the-box gig that could have only disappointed if you weren’t meant to be there; which is to say this was one for the fans. And whilst a case can be made for several songs that followed in his discography, and no doubt plenty of fans have a later favourite record, his first two albums contain the majority of his best-known, most-loved material. More than that, they were the announcement of who he is and who he would become. A precocious talent – the son of songwriters Kate McGarrigle and Loudon Wainwright III. Shortly after we learned about Rufus we’d find out about his sister, Martha – also a great talent, yet another in a family filled with them; a family that famously sang diary entries about one another, making songs out of the molehills that had turned into mountains.
Rufus speaks so fondly of Kate, her memory, her guidance. Loudon is never directly mentioned but his One Man Guy (recorded for Poses) is a highlight tonight – and therefore an acknowledgement of sorts. The inescapable bond of influence.
For me, some of the songs from the debut seem slow and laboured – though there are definitely highlights. Poses simply whips by, joy after joy, from its famous opener, Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk, through the title track, California, The Tower of Learning and The Consort – and that’s just naming an immediate handful. 
The solo album still has its class, its place, its gems – Barcelona, Sally Ann – but this is all moot. Because, when it comes down to it, it’s the singer or the song. That’s all that matters. Can the singer deliver, or is the song incredible? And where some of the self-titled album’s folk-by-proxy whimsical maladies are short of a powerful melody, the fully-formed baroque pop sensibility that drives Poses makes for an alchemy of sorts: Those Songs With That Voice.
In fact with Rufus Wainwright it’s always a case of the singer being astounding. There are times, many, depending on how deep of a fan you are, where it’s no doubt a case of both – but Wainwright’s voice can carry even the flattest of tunes to a higher place.
He takes weaker moments and makes them magical through the sheer force of his voice, its power, its purity. Worth noting too that this voice – its timbre, range and spirit – remains unblemished, unchanged across two decades. Remarkable.
So, when charged with a song that is worth its weight in gold, he is the safest pair of hands or, er, lungs…
Case in point. Set one concludes with Rufus covering Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now. Here’s a song we’ve heard so many versions of – it’s often wonderful. And if it’s not that’s simply the fault of the singer interpreting it since it’s a nearly-perfect lyric and Mitchell deserves a place on the Mount Rushmore of modern pop songwriting. Her own version, now 50 years old, stands proud.
But Rufus Wainwright’s version set a new high for this standard.
He is the great modern-day torch singer. And we get to know this through his covers particularly.
Similarly, concluding the show with his Beatles cover, Across The Universe (included on some versions of Poses) it’s just about that voice. Spellbinding.
The band was exquisite. And Rufus’ banter is always top-notch. Self-effacing, funny, candid. Good enough to cover for the holes in some of the songwriting perhaps.
It’s the singer or the song.
Tonight, it was mostly the singer. When it was the singer and the song it was transcendent. When it was just the singer and not the song it was still better than most could ever hope to be.
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Tyshawn Sorey
Pillars
Firehouse Records
Tyshawn Sorey is the type of multi-instrumentalist and all-around musical force (composer, arranger, conductor, sideman and leader) that it’s nearly impossible for us mere mortals to wrap our thinking-gear around it really. There he is behind the kit making strange, alluring shapes with an improv legend like Roscoe Mitchell or re-inventing post-bop yet again as part of an ensemble with Vijay Iyer, bridging acoustic-electro compositions with space and colour as part of the Skjold/Højensgård Project and yet with his own compositions – you’d barely know anything about him being a drummer, most of the time.
His 2007 album of composition That / Not remains something of a blueprint for his approach, though from there the shapes and sounds are of course ever-evolving. But there’s a 42-minute solo piano work (Permutations For Solo Piano) on That / Not which seems to be something of a business card for Sorey’s understanding of time and space and place – there he is draping a set of piano chords over silence, finding new ways to space and phrase them, stretching micro-fragments of time to forge a hypnotic bond between predictability, grace, mathematics and art. 
With Pillars think of that single piece and stretch it even further. Add musicians and extra instruments – it’s basically bigger, broader, a wider canvas, a larger screen, but the same extreme focus. The same craft. The same commitment to living inside the piece while it’s happening, to move and make in a trance-like state with a trance-like piece the end-goal.
Pillars is three CDs of material stretching to nearly four hours in total. Like Max Richter’s Sleep you can dip (or not) in and out of it, unlike Max Richter’s Sleep this is more for waking hours, though I’ve lived with it enough to enjoy it in my headphones as part of a relaxation tonic, part of a way to drift in and out of lucidity.
Pillars begins with a lengthy drum-roll, Sorey, in his drum-role reminding you that it’s one of his primary instruments I guess, but it also serves as statement of foundation. From there as these pillars are built, are placed, we’ll hear from Sorey across several instruments (his usual trombone and piano) including the dungchen (or Tibetan horn, a low-blower), but he’s also the conductor of this work, or set of works, and it’s hard to know entirely how much of this is through-composed or charted, how much is the result of ensemble improvisation. That’s another of Sorey’s great musical themes really, the blend and blur of improvisation with studied composing.
And here he has some legends of that type of crafting, in particular guitarist Joe Morris. He shadows and circles, his guitar a sound effect, a subtle tool for propulsion…next thing…EXPLOSION! Shards of late-60s blistering jazz-noise, the evocation of Sonny Sharrock.
Doing a similar thing with the horns and wind is Stephen Haynes (trumpet, flugelhorn, cornet, alto horn).
Pillars comes from and brings together the worlds of free-jazz, modern classical, drone, experimentation and minimalism. It is all at once far too much to take in and a soft, enchanting new world of its own, a set of pathways. It is simply far too big, too long, too enormous (in concept as well as execution) for many to handle. I think that’s what I admire most about it. Sorey stretches time to suit himself. His compositions live in their own space. As you drift in and out along with them, you can almost see and hear and feel the musicians that make these pieces doing much the same.
It’s art. It’s music. It’s profound. It’s so clearly not for everyone.
What I’ve found most with this staggering set of musical enormities is that it is a world of its own. A set of worlds. An escape.
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