Mike Stern, Dennis Chambers, Richard Bona, and Bob Franceschini live at the Blues Alley, Washington D.C- Pre Gig Shock

Fresh in from the 3 mile cycle ride to score a ticket from Blues Alley in D.C.

The sweat is fresh and my legs are still shivering from shock.

When I stumbled upon fresh news indicating Dennis Chambers, Richard Bona, and Mike Stern were scheduled to play today at the Blues Alley in D.C and I the ubiquitous one in D.C realized my blind and psychotic luck of happening to be here, fear possessed me in a lunatic sort of way and I went crazy with the internet, scoping for any way to get tickets; any way, but please no online business.

For not having a credit card in the great America is a real bitch. Still, I haven't gotten mugged yet. I've mentally dealt with it; if you get mugged, you get mugged, nothing the f#$k you can do about it.

It's crazy when your friends suggest to you (for lack of tickets online) to "take the cycle, just drive down the road, two blocks here, two blocks there, everywhere a block block, and you will get to Wisconsin Avenue...I'm not sure where Blues Alley is, but if you just kind of hang out and keep cycling around and asking people, someone will guide you and then...and then....and then you can buy a ticket and watch this Mike dude."

I, who have not exercised at all in years (apart from the finger calisthenics of course which is my greatest form of amphetamine-ized like movement of fingers; basically sixteenth notes which is a real knuckle buster, let me tell you...) took my pal's bike, wasted, and started to ride downtown; the iPod was set; Future Proof by Massive Attack set the music scenes very clearly; (total electronica on the busy streets of D.C; shuffle mode by the way is very awesome, no plans, just listen, learn, absorb, go nuts); with the music grabbing me in the gut, I did something I've not done in a LONG time- I started to ride the cycle. I didn't think about having to encounter some dark alley with possibly big guys- real big- canning my scenes.

I don't remember how old I was, but the way I learned to ride a cycle was learning beyond the actual physical aspect of riding a cycle. It was the first time I think I admired my father and hated him at the same time because I just couldn't get past the learning curve of bipedally dealing with the cycle but HE was the one who was going to help me; the tri cycle concept was to be destroyed my Father said. It had to go because big boys ride on two wheels; they write with two hands, there are good people and bad people (throughout high school and early college, I always kept this close to my heart; the yin yang, the dual sides of things, the complementary forces that keep us imperfect and help us strive towards some form of perfection- I didn't know it was so many words, but I knew I believed in it), and with one push on a free of people street, I was riding. I was elated; I remember laughing like an insane lunatic and just enjoying the thrill of being able to ride a two wheeled cycle, and suddenly, I realized that he had pushed me and I wasn't thinking about riding the bike; I just got caught in the moment; if I knew it, it would have been a lightbulb moment, but being young and impressionable, it was easy for me to forget about everything and just experience it purely. It was an awakening for me because until then, all I did was sit on that tricycle, hang out in as many places as my mom and dad could take me for rides; it was an obsession for me to roam the streets and now I had a Magna Glacier; shining, gleaming, ready to go out into the park and experience the unknown. This love hate relationship I had with my father was slowly starting to make sense. That push was for me to gain a sense of balance; on my own.

Riding down Key Bridge, the car strangled banner, is amazing. With the music pumping, I started to once again enjoy the beauty of cycling; I think my nature of playing it safe, not trying to take too many risks that others take for granted (simply because they're good at them) had divorced me mentally from all kinds of sports. It was just that realizing I was on my own and I had to get these tickets, come what may, that spurred me on like a crazed horse...the only spanner in the whole process ready to screw me was that the handle bar and the front wheel where not exactly married...pretty scary down a new, unknown road, downtown, in the city, at 6.00pm; but I tried to enjoy the view of Potomac river flowing below me and soon ahead, the many, many clubs that lined the river with all their colored roofs and people. It was vibrant; the city was alive, things were happening, I was on the bridge and another two miles to ride before getting onto Wisconsin Avenue. The cars were slower than I was; people screaming at the each other; ‘passenger love’, and I take the turn to the right at M Street at the end of the bridge.

All you have is a number; the signboards are incredibly and stupidly small. My eyes scope the street for 1073 Wisconsin Avenue. My legs are very tired; I realize that I'm on the street and not knowing which way to turn; I ride to the side and see a cop. He looks at me piercingly and I ask him where Blues Alley is; he looks into my glazed eyes and tells me to just turn right around the block. I don't realize he's asking me to take a right turn because the phrase right around the block when said casually doesn't indicate whether you take a right or a left. He also gave me a sideways glance; not that it mattered.

He gave me let's say, a detailed explanation.

I look across the street.

Dennis Chambers is standing outside Blues Alley, at 6.45pm dressed in a swathe of colors; I cannot make out if it's a robe or a t-shirt but nevertheless he's alone. Mr. Chambers, one of the finest drummers in the world standing across the street, pensive, leaning against a Georgeville T-shirt boutique pole and smoking this massive cigar; the smoke just hanging around him.

Chambers is alone and unmugged.

I had to dash; traffic rules completely eluded me. He was right across the street. Why the hell did I have to wait on the other side when there were no cars coming from either side looking at him dumbly?

I started to cross the road and then I saw the cars; they were coming at me like hornets. I lost all control and just crossed; next thing I know, I'm looking at Dennis and he's looking at me as if I'm a spastic. I tell him my legs are shivering like crazy and that he's DENNIS CHAMBERS, MAN! He acknowledges and we have a very regular conversation. He was exactly like I expected he'd be. Looks at you like he owns you. But inside all that, he was just a very regular guy standing outside the seediest bar ever.

Dennis was very surprised that there were musicians in India who held a lot of respect for him "You've got all these crazy percussionists in India and I just don't get what they dig in me, man"; needless to say, I explained to him exactly why people liked him and pointed out seminal albums etc, the usual small talk, and he just looked at me like he got shot. "You're crazy man; you're one crazy dude.” all I could muster up to say was "Can I have an autograph?" to which he laughed and signed a card that I had just violently found from my bag. See, I was expecting top security; I mean this is Dennis; P-Funk property; has to be protected and all; national freaking institution but we casually talked about music and all I can say now is that it was simply amazing to be able to stand next to the man.

I cursed myself a hundred times for not carrying a camera and told him I was going in to buy a ticket so I could catch the 10pm gig. I waited in the bar for a while hoping to maybe catch Richard Bona and Mike Stern; but it was not to be; my luck wasn't all that great; I got out of the bar and removed the cycle from the pole and looked down the alley; Chamber's broad back covered one half of it; I laughed maniacally, rode up to him and told him I'd be getting in my DVD of their Paris gig for more autographs. Then, I just left him; last glance was that massive cigar...burning.

Next entry will be a post-gig (if I aurally survive the onslaught of course); I can't wait! Blues Alley is exactly the kind of club where you have no place to stand, forget sitting; but it's worth it; I'm going to have to wait in line because you get to see the band so upfront even when you're near the exit; it's the smallest club you can imagine...

The fact that I got to meet Dennis upfront and share a few ideas including a discussion about Boston T-Party, the album with Jeff Berlin, T Lavitz, and Dave Fiuczynski and the benefits of listening to it in a closed room, alone, etc were pretty interesting. I asked about Gary Grainger and he smiled and mentioned they would do something soon; he had been way too busy and couldn’t even remember some of the albums he had played on!

The pre-gig shock exists; the strangeness is always thrown at you and dealing with it is the most interesting part of being in a new city. I also came to realize that I was such a fan of music even before considering the interest in wanting to play bass all my life. Talking with Dennis was a breeze of fresh air and cigar smoke.

Just an hour more and it's back to the same cycle ride to the show. Who knows what I'm going to witness?

Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals and Damian 'Junior Gong' Marley Live at Merriweather Pavilion, Baltimore City

To be really frank, I haven't been paying too much attention to some of the newer artists that are making a difference in the music world today; unfortunately, the scene seems to be dominated by people with names like Ludacris, Eminem, and Jessica Simpson who all might be tremendous musicians; its just that their output on record is better left unheard.

One artist who I've heard and read about but never really gotten into his music per se is Ben Harper. I got an opportunity to watch Ben at Merriweather Pavilion in Baltimore city; I guess I decided to go because I was curious and I also heard he was touring with his band, the Innocent Criminals that included the talented and big sized Juan Nelson playing his Fender electric basses and a wonderful electric upright made by Ned Steinberger and man oh man, he got such a great sound out of it live; it just had to be felt. I'm a big sucker for live bands and even if Eminem was playing with a live band, I would have checked it out; there's something about the music that you hear on record that has been minutely tracked and adjusted using the unbelievable technology we have today, being performed live complete with sweating musicians.

I was very impressed by the turnout that day; there were literally thousands of people and I was just lucky I didn't get lost. Really, I'm sure people have experienced killer concerts with 20,000 people and all that but for me, this was the first real commercially oriented gig that hadn't been stained by Mumbai newspapers and their crap advertising. In fact, this gig was very low profile and it was on September 11^th which made it a little political (Ben did take Bush's case of course but that's another story). I went with my host family and Bill who is a veteran of a minimum of 600 concerts; he's seen everyone including Stevie Ray Vaughan to the Police, and even GWAR (who are really fucking insane, it's amazing how they get away) which is all pretty crazy considering the fact that he's ONLY been watching concerts all his life. I would expect him to be pretty jaded by now but his reaction to this concert was simple- he hadn't seen such a quality show in a long time and he was right. The stage setup was excellent; the P.A was super clear, and Bill had scored VIP passes so I was right up front to see the magic.

The magic started with the most underrated reggae artist alive; Damian "Junior Gong" Marley opening the show with his kick ass band. For me, he bridged the gap between Steel Pulse and Bob Marley and even involved some rock and R&B elements to achieve his sound. His band just upped the dynamics; they all had phenomenal gear and they also had a guy whose job was to wave the Jamaican flag and move around the stage; he did that for Damian's entire 2 hour performance. That's not an easy job to do and it's hardly musical (unless you consider that he was waving his flag in time, but I might have been jammed) but I could see these guys were dead serious about their Rastafarian message and I loved the smell of the concert; it was all killer bud….

Damian's performance was very, very inspired by his father, the late Bob Marley. As the second youngest son among 13 of Bob's children, Damian has been performing since he was thirteen and like his father, he shares and spreads the Rastafarian belief of 'One Love, One Planet, and Freedom for All' which is really what we need more than ever today; he's definitely not afraid to let people know that he's more than just a reggae artist; the term 'reggae' has been misused, abused, and mutilated beyond comprehension and most people consider it as a sort of dance music when it's not. The roots of reggae are in the themes of Social Liberation. Reggae music, I found "attempts to raise the political consciousness of the audience and militates for freedom from religious delusion".

While Peter Tosh and Bob Marley may have performed many a concert for freedom, Damian came across as an entertainer which is fine really; at least he's not faking it; in today's scenario, he's more concerned about liberating ourselves first and 'that can involve some booty' as he communicated pretty rightly. I haven't been able to find out who the touring band was but whoever they were, they really grooved it; for the first time in my life, I saw a bassplayer use an Ampeg bass head and stack; four 15" speakers that practically tore my head off (and that's just his onstage monitoring); if you ever need to move mountains with your bass sound, I guess Ampeg can do it with its low end fundamental and a more traditional old school bass sound just like the old days. Sweet and simple- none of those fancy tweeter sounds; this baby moves air like nothing else I have seen. All through the concert, the bass sound was as clear as a bell. I LOVED it. The guitarist looked too stoned but he was playing some mean Reggae and he knew his shit no doubt. I especially enjoyed the drummer's work; he seemed like a young cat but he was very, very slick and he had a simple setup with which he extracted the maximum groove. He hit the spot. The two keyboard players were not missed either; they controlled the ambience.

The band basically played most of the tracks off their Welcome to Jamrock album and they were tireless, they had a message, and they made sure to give it their all; I was totally converted into a fan right there. These guys took some serious case and if my memory serves me right, Bill the veteran did say he preferred Junior Gong to Ben Harper in terms of the performance aspects; well, I would say both were good, relevant, and very funky.

During the break after Damian's gig, I was standing on a podium made off of wood where they had shacked up a bar; this was straight up VIP material and it had a lot of people but I thought the whole thing was going to crash down what with people running and just going nuts. Fortunately it didn’t and I met a ton of people most of whom I made friends with, strangers who I've never met before and there was this dude who gave me a large spliff and a pavilion ticket since mine had expired over the course of the Damian Marley concert. Incredible. There was this wonderful, friendly, and authentic atmosphere I have never felt in any other place before.

Screaming, and that's when I knew Ben Harper had come onstage. I ran back into the pavilion and I see Ben sitting down and being handed a slide guitar which was customized for him. One by one, the Innocent Criminals take the stage and next thing you know, it sounded like Jimi Hendrix had taken the stage; Ben was outrageously good with playing lead guitar and I hadn't known that he was that talented. The show just started with a bang and though I didn't know any of the music I was hearing, it sounded excellent; very tasteful and full of surprises; Ben's the modern day Marvin Gaye; his pleading and sympathetic vocals were a real treat and he's got this character that's interesting; you really do feel he has something very important to say and that he loves his audience very much; everyone could feel that; for an instant after the show started, everybody out there in the garden, at the pavilion, people who were just hanging around, everybody became one. It was the equivalent of a cosmic sexual experience.

The Innocent Criminals comprised of Leon Mobley on Percussion, Oliver Charles on Drums, Michael Ward on Guitars, Juan Nelson on Electric basses, and Jason Yates on Keyboards and Harmonica. The band was super tight of course; this was their last day in America and the tour would continue into Europe where audiences apparently have a lot more respect and hang onto every word.

The band with Ben performed all the tracks on the latest album Both Sides of the Gun and I was surprised that in the three hours that they performed, they covered pretty much all styles of music from Latin to Disco Funk; but it's the Blues that Ben loves; he is a killer blues guitarist and I think in this department, he has been terribly underrated simply because that is not his forte as such; he's more of a singer/songwriter and his songs are all about love, friendship, peace, and more importantly, freedom; this was the general spirit of the concert; Freedom was the underlying theme and on September 11^th , it meant a lot to the many Americans that had crowded the entire area; house full had a different meaning here; it was not about the girls or the drugs. It was about coming together and experiencing something that went beyond words and sentences. I never did think that this kind of an experience would happen; America has genre-fied everything on Earth but this concert had a different and unique vibe altogether.

Juan Nelson took a 5 minute accompanied/unaccompanied on the fly bass solo that involved the audience and I was suitably impressed; he had a lot of courage to venture into some jazz ideas which the crowd really wasn't prepared for; but he more than made up for it with his spirited musicality and funk intent. He was awesome; I'm definitely going to check out more records with his lines on them.

Oliver Charles holds the band down and makes sure everything is grooving and cooking. Leon Mobley is an amazing percussionist; this is another underrated dude; he had a commanding presence and his Jamaican joy and smile were wide enough to encompass everything he looked at. Michael Ward looked a little pissed off, I'm not sure why but he was there and he did his best and I thought he was a great player who played for the songs and not for some intellectual wanking. And of course Jason Yates obviously has spent a lot of time with his keyboards and his sound was very 60's; he's obviously spent a lot of time on the Hammond B-3 organ which has a very tasty sound. He's not a bad harmonica player either; he's with it all supporting and being musical.

Ben came back for an encore, alone with an acoustic guitar; and he performed six songs which communicated directly to the audience. I was standing so close to the stage and I could not believe the intensity this guy had with an acoustic; he really is a good guitar player and needs to be given some wider recognition in that field. The songs he sang touched everybody and I was surprised to be moved as well. When the band came back on stage, they were joined by ALL the members of the Damian Marley band; they exchanged instruments it was basically a riot; they covered three of Bob Marley's greatest songs- 'Exodus', 'Get Up, Stand Up', and 'Could You Be Loved'; it got me back into Bob's music and spirit again and it resonated with everyone there; this wasn't an ordinary bunch of cover songs; it had a lot of feeling in it and it was spot on; singing girls, everything. The Jamaican flag was high up in the air and Ben's band had visuals on the stage already; complete perceptive orgasms.

Really, there's way too much that I could describe but a good concert always leaves you with a feeling that just cannot be expressed in words. It changes you and asks of you to become a better person, and sometimes, a better musician.

For me, when I walked out, tired as hell from all the standing and dancing, I told myself that it was wrong to have ignored some of the modern music coming out today, this is my generation, I cannot ignore it; I may have been living in the 70's all along in a mental way but where I'm and what I do just cannot be ignored; the concert gave me hope and bridged the divide I had created with the music of yesterday and today. I vowed to keep an open ear and soak in as many sounds as possible without judging them; and in doing that, I'm hoping to work on becoming a vital voice in the music I play today- wherever and with whoever I am- it's really not a question of money; for me, it's about translating the influences I have and the madness in the world today to create bass parts that embrace this world, not the next; I'm going to stop running and just breathe a little now.

The future is in the Now.

Funeral for a Friend

In between the time I wrote the last blog and the one that you are currently perusing, there have been many activities that have kept me busy; especially playing the bass and reading; one particular incident shattered the peace and the relative well being of my every day affairs.

For the second time in three years, another close friend committed suicide. He hung himself. He didn’t leave anything dramatic. He was 27.

Suicide is a concept that seems to be taken lightly by observers and listeners. There seems to be some lack of understanding as to the finitude of Man; we have taken it to be that we live for a certain amount of time; no ‘experience’ of any man’s infinite physical and coexistent being coupled with streaming historicity and cultural phenomenon has been noted over the years (I have not considered any witchcraft or Karmic capabilities for any individual at all). We have attributed a ‘Godly’ status to only those individuals who constantly push barriers and who survive the drift no matter the current state of affairs. Regular, ordinary, everyday people are forgotten; and why remember them when we all seem to be struggling with the self same problems?

At an existential level, I would go on to say that yes, it is possible that the majority of the world’s population agrees on the absurdity of life and that the real reasons for why we are here is absolute nonsense if at all any ontological conclusions have been drawn from it.

But when you know someone; when you have spent time with someone; what’s ultimately connected is that your own historicity and facticity are constantly being asserted in the present tense, being determined by the association of a social (and if necessary, the personal) order that ceases to be by the death of the ‘other’. Without getting into the philosophical implications of the Other and I, at the level of friendship or a deeper acquaintanceship, it is often difficult to suppress at the emotional level, the core of the tear in the fabric of personal relations.

The core has in it, an implicit reality that exists independent of human relations; it may be something that brings us closer to either understanding ourselves in the light of the current social hoo-haa or being able to assert some fundamental psycho-physical association.

When a person commits suicide, the core is well understood, a choice is made, and there is nothing more present than the act itself. It is being- for- itself in one sense but strangely, it is also a being-in-itself that transcends the sphere of the psycho-physical being; it is a penultimate rejection of the individual’s place in history, facticity, and more importantly, a complete break from fluid time.

When I heard the news, I was shocked; but its actuality only sunk in days later. I remembered at that time the protagonist of Camus’ The Outsider arriving to see his dead mother’s body and not feeling anything dramatic or heartbreaking as he was experiencing (a strange experience in real time in which the very notion of experience is being tested) in all the other people present there. Somehow through the veil of their tears, an almost non-moral precept is derived by the protagonist; that when clubbed with an internal anguish, belied a contradictory nature in the finality of things, of people, and even, of concepts shaped after hundreds of years of the collective experience of Man. The mother ‘died’ merely as the imminent loss of a physical form; the implications of the death would be the future now that the death has taken place. The central point that I’m trying to draw the reader to is simple- the notion of Death is not the opposite of life, and neither is it an end to life. It is more or less, a being that we are intended for and when this is clear in terms of a life’s constructs (it almost decides how we agree to live and love), we live towards it.

There is nothing pessimistic or un-humanitarian (or even barbaric) to consider this premise.

I have also begun to accept that Suicide is a very natural thought; a suicide of a self is almost a rejection of death more than a rejection of life. The very thought of nihilating oneself both in physical and historical form, is a classic rejection of the better things that are in store for us. It is also a heartfelt affirmation of an essential negation; to transform from a being- for- itself to a being- in- itself that ultimately resides in Being (as Heidegger would aptly put it) which is neither heaven or hell, but is simply a negation of what is- to- be, or futurity if you like.

Unfortunately, a majority of people seem to think that it is either an act of a failed martyr or an act of a troubled mind; what these people fail to conceive is the amount of tension it withholds deep inside the cavernous minds of individuals who are striving to become a being- in- itself; the state of affairs today that determine a success (I’m using this word loosely here) for an individual is clear; there is money and cash flow, and then there is Ego, the same Ego that for years Psychology has mistakenly associated with a self or worse, a consciousness. It is this behavioral construct that has been labeled and neatly confirmed to individuals for their job interviews and their appraised benefits.

These constructs kill individuals. They (the constructs) ensure to make people glassy and transparent so that mechanization of human activities for the goal of mass production continues to go on and on. Individuals who die along the way are apparently ‘misguided’.

He was a good man; he had no reasons to commit suicide aside from the obvious ones I have mentioned above; beyond this, we are meant for better things and that will continue to remain true so long as there are creative bents of mind, and an unfaltering imagination that continues to work long after the last brick of behavioral constructs have been built.

We build an ontological system day after day when we should be trying to understand what is out there, for us, and what it means to someone else when we are gone. I deeply miss him and I have thought about what such a death means.

I’m sure it was not martyrdom that he was looking for; maybe a peaceful exit from an otherwise complex ontology of a being-for-itself.

There is not a shred of finality I intend in this but there is food for thought.

Miles Davis - Decoy

Off late, choosing a Miles Davis album to listen to, to be a part of, to move with, hasn’t been easy at all. While I constantly listen to Miles’ Man With The Horn, I was also very intrigued in hearing what his other lineups were doing; the breadth and the profundity of music available that claims influence from Miles and/or involves his own substantial input is tremendous.

As a bassplayer, I have most definitely been influenced by Marcus Miller, Michael Henderson, and Darryl Jones; three low enders who sound totally different from each other, but in essence, could understand and sail through the ideas that Miles was urging them to follow and expand on. And I haven’t really touched on Foley (Joe McCleary, Miles’ lead bassist 1987-1991), Felton Crews (you’ve got to check out that snaky bassline he plays on Shout on Man With The Horn), Tom Barney (currently with Steely Dan), and Richard Patterson, among the other bassplayers Miles worked with.

It is really astonishing, almost surreal, to realize how many musicians have passed out from Miles’ academy of improvisory jazz funk. It seems jazz has a debt with Miles in more ways than one which the opulent ear can hear. Whatever jazz you are listening to, it definitely pays tribute to Miles in some way or the other; it could be musings, genuflection; even genuine respect that’s hard to come by for so many jazzers after years of performing.

Getting most of Miles’ electric music was a little tough for me but I have managed quite a few like Star People, Tutu, You’re Under Arrest, On The Corner, all of which are currently spinning in my CD player.

I remember going into a music store a while back and glancing casually at the jazz section (knowing fully well that if I did find something, it would be a good day to say the least; I had already bought a ton of music from the same place!) hoping to find Miles, maybe some other rare music if possible; I found a dusty Decoy hiding behind a stack of CD’s like the bomb it really was.

Decoy, from the very first listen, just blew me away; Miles has a wonderful band in here and the forms and vamps are intense with such a strong pulse in them; its almost African Voodoo; the band doesn’t seem to sag at all and they all move along chord changes at fairly fast tempos. This is a young and powerful band who seem to know exactly what Miles wants and how to give it to him. The core unit comprises of Bill Evans on Saxophone, Branford Marsalis on Soprano saxophone (you’ll hear him in a lot of weird places but not everywhere), long timer Al Foster on drums, Minu Cinelu on Percussion, and Robert Irving 3 on keyboards, drum pads, and ambience.

The immaculate thing about Decoy though is the form and the freedom Miles gave to all his musicians; it seems to me that he chose these young musicians to play in his band because he was probably curious about the urban context and what made music in that dimension tick. I’m yet to meet anyone who didn’t think Miles’ electric music was weird. While he could be credited with having changed music five times in his career, each element within that music that he put his time into, ultimately morphed that style into something else; something quirky, eclectic, and downright nasty. And each time he did this, he would have an equally psychotic band to actually play all this music, improvise on the spot; and Miles was known to take your groove away and force you to find something else.

From whatever I have read, Miles wasn’t an easy person to be around with but what is significant as regards to his music; the sense of direction and unity found on Decoy, never mind the groovy scrumptiousness of electronika, jazz, funk, and free flowing rock rhythms contained and sandwiched between every other track; is almost a riverbed of ideas. Watching Miles’ Live at Montreux without having heard Decoy, one gets the idea that the music on the studio album was totally improvised minus the heads and the outroduction solos. Conversely, listening to Miles a lot tells you that the music was actually composed from ground up, all the themes, moods, and solos were well understood as one of the goals of playing live. I don’t think anything was sacrificed in the studio; sure, there are odd moments, but that’s Miles; he’s still going to drop that beautiful phrase with the muted trumpet that’s going to make you sit up and take notice.

The bassplayer providing the grease and the nastay slap sound is Darryl ‘The Munch’ Jones who played with Miles between June 1983 - July 1985 and October 1986 - April 1988; the break was for the tour with Sting on the Bring On The Night Tour which is where I first heard this groundbreaking, unsung, and rarely credited bassplayer. His credits sheet though covers major artists such as Madonna, Peter Gabriel, Joan Armatrading, and Sting for a start.

Darryl really is a machine (too see him in action, check out Miles Davis Live in Montreux) and provides a pulse that is fresh, insistent, and playfully melodic. He is also an excellent musician in terms of support, endurance, stamina, and improvisation. On Decoy, you’re listening to a young Darryl on his first major gig with Miles; Darryl who actually survived a phone call with Miles in which he told Miles that he ‘could play’ is totally the man the band is banking on and his slap chops are ridiculous. I don’t mean the Victor Wooten thumbing chops or the Ray Riendeau double plucking chops; I’m talking about bassplayer slap chops which is basically holding it down. Nobody embodies the concept of grooving and holding it down while supplying the fat to the fire than Darryl; he takes a big bite out of the music and chews on it, pushing the groove to a dynamic level that made Miles remark one time that “if I played bass, I'd wanna play just like you.”

Darryl’s also relentless, as is evidenced on the title track where he plays a mean slap/pop line in favor of a normally Hendersonian* (Michael Henderson*, the first electric bassplayer with Miles) eighth note pulse; but you can hear Michael’s influence on Darryl as well in lieu of the NO wasted notes; Darryl makes every note count and when you’re finished listening to Decoy, it will be the tenaciousness and the bite that he provided within that studio recording framework that lingers and remains. He also pumps out a well oiled and greasy groove on Freaky Deaky which represents an essential facet- Darryl never overplays but then, he never underplays either; somehow like James Jamerson and Chuck Rainey, he always manages to find the right line to play with any drummer.

With drummer Vince Wilburn, Darryl has a brotherly groove and with Al Foster, there is an independent groove; I think that in most contexts where Darryl plays, he seems to know what the improvisory space accounts for, and only then does he decide to break away from the root based groove that Miles asks him, to do something slick and definitely worthy of bassdom. For instance, listening to the pastiches that the band creates on the last track, That’s What Happened, is confounding; there are multiple independent and interdependent parts; part of the reason why it sounds like it’s still glued within this universe is the quirky interplay between Darryl and Al Foster. They sound slick, and very often they sound like they’re building musical structures only to break them down so they can build a new one in its place with a few characteristics from the old thrown in. As a rhythm section, Darryl and Al are creative to say the least. With them in all their pursuits is the world renowned percussionist, Minu Cinelu, who brings an Afro-Cuban approach complete with wood blocks and splash cymbals.

All the tracks on Decoy have great bass parts and I think in one sense, while Marcus Miller may have done much for Miles’ music in terms of arrangement, composition, and sometimes even dictating the overall theme and feel (Note Marcus’ parts on Jean Pierre and Backseat Betty), Darryl plays a more foundational role peppered with the occasional virtuosic fills and thump. This is in fact what has gotten him a very well paying gig- with The Rolling Stones- for the last ten years.

Of course, Darryl is not the only one who’s makes the music meet on Decoy; his counterparts and sometimes, alter egos, John Scofield and Bill Evans also construct high ledges on which they occasionally suspend the rest of the musicians; it sounds risky and dangerous but in effect, a lot of the credibility that Miles’ electric music has received, all that critical acclaim, is really Miles’ letting himself get set up; he didn’t surround himself with young musicians so he could look cool; he literally lived with them. His contemporaries and peers were in too staid a direction and Miles was always restless. It made sense for him to use musicians like John Scofield and Bill Evans who as you will abundantly hear, can hold their own.

Scofield of course is a great improviser but on Decoy, he plays very much the support role, only breaking out in a sweat for his solos; the music is also tightly constructed around Scofield’s rhythmic chank which meets Miles and Darryl over the arrangement of the songs themselves. The jazz funk sound in Decoy culminates into orgiastic interplay as a result of John Scofield’s jazz rock leanings.

Bill Evans is one of the finest saxophonists, one of the many virtuosos that Miles helped establish as the top tenors in the world; it’s true that Bill Evans was asked by Miles whether he could play like John Coltrane and the visibly distressed Bill Evans replied he could basically do his own thing. And he does; his solos arch and scream through the funky din the band makes. There is a certain sense of meandering with, and a myriad range of tones that Bill evokes off of his saxophone; much of it of course is soloing over a chord section/vamp; but he holds his own, often completing the musical idea that Miles starts. More importantly, he comes of as a focused, determined player, totally sharing the collective idea of grooving incessantly as well; with all those chops, he lends an incredible deft hand to the already proficient rhythm section in deriving melodic counterpoints and sharp ostinatos. John Coltrane would have been proud.

The man responsible for the electronic effects, the drum pads, and a lot of the ambience in Decoy is the infallible Robert Irving 3. In addition to being the musical director on Decoy, he’s also the composer of the title track and Code MD. All the arrangements in a large way are reflective of Irving; the electronic sound with the ambient focus is a result of his many experiments with Miles’ music for five years. I'm not sure whether Iriving chooses to lay back but he seems to know the dynamic intent of the band really well. Davis is also credited with playing synthesizers but rarely in a lead role.

I didn’t think I’d like Decoy so much; after spending so much time listening to Tutu and The Man With The Horn, it was hard to like any other Miles album; but I was wrong; what started as an indefatigable curiousity has now turned into complete, unabated obsession. The reason is simple. I hear Miles bringing out the best in his musicians and pushing them over the edge and even when it sounds like its all going to fall down around you, the band always get right back on track. The level of communication that I can feel happening between the musicians and Miles is a subliminal one punctuated with the short, insistent, and enigmatic gaps. The artful silence in that gap; I just cannot explain it, but I know what it makes me feel.

Track listing:

1. Decoy
2. Robot
3. Code M.D
4. Freaky Deaky
5. What it is
6. That’s Right
7. That’s What Happened
   

Credits:

Miles Davis (Synthesizer, Trumpet)
Robert Irving III (Synthesizer & Drum Programming)
John Scofield (Guitar)
Bill Evans (Soprano Saxophone)
Mino Cinelu (Percussion)
Al Foster (Drums)
Darryl Jones (Bass)
Branford Marsalis (Saxophone)

Brad Mehldau Larry Grenadier Jorge Rossy - The Art of the Trio Vol.3: Songs

Recently, I have been voraciously checking out pianist Brad Mehldau’s fine work on The Art of the Trio Vol.3: Songs. The album is a testament to many things; but in particular, and what really moved me to listen to it so much, is the honesty and freedom imbued in the overall ambience of the recording. The effect of the whole album cannot be described in words; all I’m insistent about conveying right now is the feel it creates and a few observations.

Over the last few years, I have checked out some acoustic jazz that I constantly go back to; I have never till date thought it would be credible of me to write about jazz; but there are many aspects of jazz, fragmented as they are with cultural idioms, that work for anybody, no matter what they think it might be; for some people, I suppose jazz is elevator music but for the more artistically inclined, I think Brad Mehldau can do you in; his technique is mindcaving and his flourishes on the piano are a brain’s delight; audible paintings. With him are Larry Grenadier on acoustic bass and Jorge Rossy on drums who equally prove that a pivotal rhythm section is one that understands the message behind the song while participating with the honest intents of the artist in mind.

Songs has many indescribable facets lurking behind every melody you hear. One thing that continues thematically, waving its spell on you, is the slow, churning growth of every song.

Somehow Brad is able to fuse classically trained piano chops to almost pop statements; he does this by relentlessly playing in and around Larry’s and Jorge’s parts and dynamically weaving through the head, the melody; until the whole song just becomes a melodic dessert; the way I hear it is that Brad always states the intent of the song and like Bill Evans (whom he really does not want to be compared to any more), allows the trio format to breathe, expand, improvise, feel, and become one giant instrument playing your tune, for you. Songs has this dynamic feature on stellar tracks like Bewitched, Bewildered, and Bothered which grabs you the instant it starts with its unforgettable melody and haunting refrains, River Man which has a starkly country lit country allusion toyed with by Brad’s jazz sensibilities, and the album opener, Song Song which thematically underlies the album’s broad aural map with its tentative and thoughtful chord changes.

This personal impact that Brad creates is almost second to none and it is equally interesting that he does not draw inspiration from a strictly jazz source. For a start, Brad is into the music of Radiohead, The Beatles, Nick Drake, and a host of other artists given tribute through either song or word.

He admirably succeeds on all fronts; some of the tracks on Songs eventually mesh together, and then you hear a romantic at heart, nourished by the music of Keith Jarrett, Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, and John Coltrane; many elements of his classically trained approach are confirmed as Wikipedia states, ‘he…plays a separate melody with each hand in unusual rhythmic meters such as 5/4 and 7/4.’ I haven’t really researched classical music so much in terms of deconstructing it to understand the theoretical intent, etc but I have dug Bach, Chopin, Mozart, and Rachmaninoff; I can hear some Chopin influences in Songs; and I also think that while classical music has influenced Brad to a great extent, its how he uses the techniques of the old masters such as Debussy and Chopin in terms of harmonic sophistication and panache to paint a modern dimension that explicates the phrasing of Miles and Coltrane’s salubrious vision of jazz.

Larry and Jorge also have a vested stake in the title of this album; their understanding of trio playing is really top notch and often moody, expansive, and lush. They are also very, very fine with the sounds they coax out of their instruments.

Larry Grenadier is awesome; big rolling tone, and of course, he has been in many a situation; he’s almost a first call jazz bassplayer, and his playing can be sampled on another outstanding album by Pat Metheny titled Trio 99 → 00 which by the way is mindblowing. He has also worked with two other phenomenal jazz artists, John Scofield and Bill Stewart. Larry’s soloing on upright is a real treat and on Unrequited and Convalescent, you can hear a player making a statement; on the latter song, check out Larry’s solo starting at 3.20; he states the melody, occasionally gets away with Mehldaulian flourishes, plays inventive changes and gets right back in the game! Wonderful upright bassplayer; I wonder what he would sound like on electric. On Unrequited, you must also check out Brad’s wicked piano solo starting at 3.58.

Jorge Rossy is a highly competent drummer who makes trio playing sound emotional; he is often found chasing the melody and interspersing his cymbal washes to create waves and waves of musical notes. Jorge also seems to know the Bill Evans approach and he uses it to masterful effects; his groove is liquid and he never plays conventionally, always choosing to make unique drumtastic statements that are more a product of his playing with Brad and Larry; there’s a unique chemistry between the band and a lot of that has to do with the choices and the chances that Jorge takes; it sounds like he’s soloing all the time yet its still fluid and it never loses its breath. Jorge Rossy having logged ten years in Brad Mehldau’s trio is now working with many other artists, primarily saxophonist Chris Cheek; I have heard Jorge lay down some amazing odd time Middle Eastern grooves with Avishai Cohen as well; Jeff Ballard, a friend and contemporary, holds the drum chair in Brad’s band now.

The two songs that did me in and made me realize the beauty of Brad Mehldau were Exit Music (for a Film) and At A Loss, while the former is a cover of a Radiohead tune, I’m sure Brad can claim it for his own; his is not even an interpretation; it is masterfully arranged and Brad and the band wrap around the track with their trademark classical chops, romantic intents, thirty fingers, and all. The latter track sees Larry play an incredible bass solo.

There are a few thematic reoccurrences in the album but these only occur in the sense of the overall ambience that Brad tries to create; I have found that musicians like Jaco Pastorius and Charlie Parker for instance had their own sound but what’s more was they were able to use these sounds and their techniques in a direction vast, but always making a stylistic statement, a signature to the effect of having participated and having involved themselves with the times and the effects of their music on a general public. Audiences prepare for an almost spiritual experience at Brad’s concerts and to be sure, he is involved with much the same thing- finding the essence of the song he plays; this is also the case in American Dreams with Charlie Haden, and Anything Goes with Jorge and Larry where you can hear renditions of Paul Simon’s Still Crazy After All These Years and a close to James Taylor’s version of The Nearness of You.

I’m still listening to this album intently; it has the same effect that albums like Chick Corea’s Time Warp, John Patitucci’s Mistura Fina, Flora Purim’s Speak No Evil, and Avishai Cohen’s Adama (on which Brad Mehldau plays a mean version of Besame Mucho), had on me; the first listen and you know something is afoot, something that you are going to obsess over. Something that just tells you that jazz was never dead; not with these guys hanging around.

By and far, Brad Mehldau with Larry Grenadier and Jorge Rossy, prove a substantial point in the growth of jazz and its unfaltering dynamic goal towards the central truth that affects all musicians who have in it a profundity of interest - Always look forward.

For up to date information on Brad Mehldau, check out www.bradmehldau.com

To check out his reasonably extensive discography, look in http://www.linge.de/music/records/mehldau/index.html

To check out more artists playing with Brad Mehldau, look in www.allaboutjazz.com

To learn more about Contemporary Jazz and its current directions in Modern Music, look in http://jazz.about.com/od/contemporaryjazz/

Herbie Hancock Future2Future DVD

As a huge fan of Herbie Hancock’s 70’s synthesized funk output, I was extremely eager to check out his 2002 DVD, Future2Future, which is essentially a live interpretation of the studio album. The album had new and extended musical explorations of older songs like Dolphin Dance, Butterfly, Chameleon, and Rockit. I have always loved Herbie’s electric work; I started with 72’s Crossings and eventually ended up spending a lot of time listening to Thrust, Chameleon, Man Child, Return of the Headhunters, Portrait, Dis is Da Drum, Takin’ Off’, Headhunters, and Possibilities; on the acoustic side, I’ve also checked out a lot of his acoustic work and am currently listening to Gershwin’s World which is phenomenal; superb music, almost supra sensuous like a Salvador Dali painting but in white.

I’m also aware that Herbie had many more electric albums, but these albums still grow on me and I’m not sure I can handle any more Paul Jackson and Mike Clarke rhythmic allusions; those guys according to me were are the greasiest, telepathic rhythm section you’ll hear with Hancock; in Thrust, you will definitely hear some tricky material played on bass and drums but its always breathing, always grooving. In fact, Thrust deserves its own review. Herbie’s always had great musicians play with and they have all profoundly influenced his approach to jazz which is sometimes futuristic and sometimes moody but always looking forward; only looking back for timeless inspiration.

Mainly, I wanted to check the live band out; it was different from the album; Wallace Roney on trumpet, Terri Lynne Carrington on drums and vocals, DJ Disk on turntables (percussive??!!), Darrell Diaz on second keyboards and vocals, and Matt Garrison playing electric upright and six string electric basses.

Sounds like a party right? 1 hour and 44 minutes of everything including spacey organic post modern funk and tight tech bop; the venue was one factor that made it possible.

It was totally a party and no less at the Knitting Factory in Los Angeles, California; L.A.com describes it succinctly enough ‘Pierced punks, long-haired headbangers, and vintage-clad hipsters all make pilgrimages here for off-the-radar music—it's kind of like what the UN would be like, if it was run by Brian Eno.’ Buzzed responsibly, I set out to watch the DVD with my buddy who was kind enough to provide 4.1 surround sound (which by the way is not the best way to watch this concert; but is good enough). The multi angle thingie is a plus too; it guarantees multiple sessions of checking out every single detail you want to check out like what the hell is Matt doing with his right hand, etc in the DVD.

First things first, this live DVD is an interpretation of the music you will hear on the audio CD; it’s no less dynamic; the heads are mostly the same and the sections are all marked out clearly just like you hear in the disc; however, Herbie decides to let the band go ‘out’ in the many, long, dynamic sections and Wallace Roney is the perfect foil; I observed that he was akin to a narrator easing in and dropping out in all the right registers. There’s no doubt that he’s been tremendously influenced by Miles; his muted trumpet licks with an almost anonymous, gritty, moaning tone is quite similar. But he holds his own throughout the concert and like Miles, can mysteriously appear and disappear from the stage thus adding to his sorcerer like personality onstage.

Darrell Diaz does a good job; his fusiony keyboard solo on Chameleon is in fact closer to Herbie’s ideas although not the same. He also sings some fine backing vocals in the concert. Throughout the show, Darrell stays in support mode and this is a great aspect of his playing; he has numerous credits as you will see on his website.

The most impressive musicians in my humble opinion though, were the rhythm section of Matt Garrison and Terri Lynne Carrington. I had never seen these players live before, but I was aware that Matt had trained at Berklee College of Music, and privately trained with Gary Willis; the results have been amply demonstrated with his fantastic and mind bending right hand technique- rapid fire 32^nd notes and trills, psychotic grooving with his post modern bass sound both sub thick and with glassy highs, and a relentless mid EQ boost.

On his electric upright bass, he’s able to arco whale calls and add to the overall ambience especially when Herbie is playing some of that sweet piano. He can walk like a madman too. Additionally, Matt just can’t get enough of the bass; I saw him switch between six string electric to upright and instead of using a stand to rest the bass, he swings the bass around supporting its weight on his back and grabs the electric upright and just goes for it. Matt repersonifies the ‘Never put the bass down’ concept.

However, I must say that the P.A’ed bass output wasn’t too great; Matt does get lost in the mix but you can hear what he’s doing; you can see the class, the showmanship, you can see his father’s legacy (Jimmy Garrison, John Coltrane’s longtime bassist) continued with the genetic passing down of fundamental concepts of the bass such as support, time, and an innate confidence at steering the band through everything, nasty changes, solos, and all; Matt definitely turned my head and I’m currently seeking out more of his material. For his bass solo, Matt chooses to play some great bass chords, incorporating some tricky pull offs, and showcasing some flamenco hand technique in the solo; most importantly, he decided to take a solo with support from the able, and unbelievably mature Terri Lynne Carrington.

Terri Lynne Carrington put up a flawless performance dotted with innumerable classy and highly elaborate licks in the tradition of Jack DeJohnette and Tony Williams. She can also groove like mad adept at both electronic drums and acoustic drums; I have heard her jazz drumming on various albums but live, she’s something else; she’s got a great right foot, amazing dynamics- lush one second, frenetic the second, but always in control; combined with Matt Garrison’s tech time, she displays virtuosity beyond many of today’s modern drummers, coaxing be bop and swing tones from her dark cymbals and cracking a tight snare drum; she’s also on fire taking her solo on Tony Williams. Terri plays great support and her mature drum sound and approach defies tradition, yet uses all the great elements from it to make a whole generation swing.

The odd man out and the only maniac in is DJ Disk who was a member of the Invisibl Skratch Piklz from the San Francisco area in the 80’s, displays an unbelievable understanding of Herbie’s music and takes it places in this concert; he splices and scratches using turntables with modern sensibilities but with the rawness of the ghetto, the urban funk; he is in tune with the event here, which is a commingling of many generations, and from psychedelia to psycho-bop, he effortlessly seems to know the background and is always involved in the total growth of the track. On This is DJ Disk he makes sure you don’t forget him and even engages in a playful duel with Herbie on turntables; the latter’s turntable is a neat, smallish box that recreates the sounds he used in tracks like Rockit. The original video for Rockit is also in the DVD and though you might not particularly fancy the video with its Edward Scissorhands meets Men At Work shots, the music of course is still fresh and you can hear those turntables from years ago. DJ Disk brings the urbanity, the street vibe, into Herbie’s music.

As for Herbie, I think it would be best if you watched the DVD; I can only say that there are good reasons for why he is still continuing to break the barriers in electric keyboards and acoustic piano; there is a little bit of all the things Herbie does in this DVD; highly sophisticated piano solos in a total bebop rein, melodic explorations on electric piano, and a sparseness in sound that to me shows Herbie’s revived interest in ambient funk music, synthesized but in tune with the times. Herbie’s helping and collaborating with the pace of a generation much younger than him recalls Miles’ own pursuits with electric jazz.

My final remark is that I see Herbie Hancock following the groundbreaking, electric, often iconoclastic decisions that Miles Davis made, using younger musicians and often letting them lead and go places with the music, but most of all, practicing the advanced art of silence that Miles propounded; even with all that greasy funk around him. Despite the many Miles’ like moments, the concert is still an excellent representation of Herbie Hancock and his band stretching, blooming, percolating, and breathing with you.

Setlist:

1. Wisdom
2. Kebero
3. This Is DJ Disk
4. Dolphin Dance
5. Virtual Hornets
6. The Essence
7. Butterfly
8. Tony Williams
9. Rockit
10. Chameleon

Stanley Clarke- East River Drive

Listening to Stanley Clarke’s East River Drive is so stimulating.

About eight years back, I was floored by his bass work on that album. I was not aware that Stanley already had 13 albums and a movie soundtrack Passenger 57 as recorded output apart from his otherwise impressive bass credentials as sideman. I started to explore Stanley Clarke because he was well regarded as a bassplayer in magazines, as well as by word of mouth.

Stanley along with Jaco Pastorius redefined the role and the sound of the electric bass in the 70’s. Stanley pioneered many of the techniques showcased on all his albums which included slapping, thumping, chording, double stops, glisses, open string and chord harmonies, squealing harmonics; the works. He was prolific and very active playing music all through the 70’s, the 80’s, the 90’s and these days, you either him on some of those Hollywood movies like Romeo Must Die and The Transporter or on live tour dates where some of the finest young jazz cats get their real jazz stint. Recently, a friend told me that Stanley was blowing up audiences with Bela Fleck and Al diMeola…

At this time, I have heard most of the Clarke discography but East River Drive highlights both areas of Stanley’s impressive abilities; working as a sideman and working as a soloist/band leader. East River Drive has a credits sheet that reads like the who’s who of the jazz world. Many of the artists in here may be accused of playing smooth jazz etcetera, but I want to point out that I rarely take the reviews critics write seriously; they assume some otherworldly understanding of jazz with the tags they attach to its history, its cultural affinity with the blues, the American idioms, the fast life, the icons; as far as good music is concerned, it always sounds good, and maybe the intellectual content in smooth jazz is a little staid but in the end, a good artist with a vision and a sound will only seek to break all of these genre specific barriers. I always thought Larry Carlton, Lee Ritenour, and even Marcus Miller did some smooth jazz and like Stanley, only the jazz critics steeped and mucked with traditional jazz history and iconography dislike them. For the rest of us, every album no matter what it is features at least one facet that is worth accumulating the knowledge for.

I tried to be specific with reviews for each track and then I realized that it really wouldn’t be fair to a new listener. Instead, I’ll just go through some of the highlights of the album and what you could look for, especially in the bass context.

Stanley used a lot of different basses to get his sounds on this album; prominently featured are his Alembic piccolo bass, an upright bass (on which Stanley really is a monster), and a Fyffe acoustic bass guitar. Coupled with some 90’s style synthesizer bass sounds, Stanley was able to achieve a multitude of cool sounds. You can hear this when he solos on his piccolo and his Fyffe acoustic bass; while trading solos with other artists on the album such as Hubert Laws, George Duke, Poncho Sanchez, and Jean Luc Ponty, Stanley is able to achieve such an articulate, expressive, bright bass sound. This has been his trademark sound using the piccolo bass since the early 80’s but it is only by the time of East River Drive where it is less aggressive and more refined.

Even on R&B laced tracks like Justice’s Groove and Fantasy Love, Stanley makes some smooth but hip choices and his sound as usual is top notch; there are some nice melodic statements in here and the urbanity of his grooves in the context of film scores is evident.

More striking is the increased use of synthesizers on the album and Stanley’s tendency to double keyboard low end using his basses along with his harmonic squeals and upper register probing. The sounds were definitely heartfelt; there is no Return to Forever kind of manic riffing and ‘catch the ball’ games here. Some sounds are closer to the Clarke-Duke project.

Zabadoobeedé? (Yabadoobeeda) and I’m Home Africa are funky African groove based tracks complete with relentless basslines and Gospel shout style vocals. I haven’t heard any afro funk from Stanley in the earlier albums; most of the that work was also technique intensive and come to think of it; the main reason why this album got me hooked and made me search out every Stanley album was his funk approach as opposed to his jazz approach. Clarke was a big funk guy in the 70’s as well; his technique basically expanded off of Larry Graham; P-Funk also made a big impression on Stanley; however, the funk we hear in East River Drive is a modern edged funk with more emphasis on urban vibes and feel rather than the late 70’s/ early 80’s outrageousness. Still, it’s a good idea to seek out those earlier albums; they’ll work if you like P-Funk.

I’m Home Africa has some wonderful inspiring choruses and a killer bassline happening with the addition of James Earl; it also has an incredible, must hear saxophone solo by Doug Webb. I always get goose bumps when this track is played; I can’t explain it.

The title track East River Drive is a relaxed piece, very orchestrated and cleverly arranged with great soloing from all the artists involved; this concept is extended to another three cuts on the album; What If I Forget The Champagne, Christmas in Rio, and Never Lose Your Heart/There Lies The Passion. The latter two tracks are latin tinged and show Stanley moving in a different direction as opposed to his otherwise heavy jazz approach; these are easy listening tracks; the solos are musical, each of the soloists plays through the changes gracefully and innovatively; Stanley fulfills ensemble playing in a way that would make jazz bass players proud. More importantly, I could feel some substance in the compositions; they have depth which was lacking in the earlier albums.

He is also a great leader as is amply showcased here;gracious in giving so much solo space to the artists involved; in that sense, East River Drive as an album is really only Stanley with a little help from his friends; most of the tracks are well crafted and embellished with George Duke (with whom Stanley has worked on many occasions) and the masterful drummers Dennis Chambers (in a funk context), Gerry Brown (in a pop/contemporary jazz context), Carlos Vega (in a latin context), and the great J.R Robinson (in a contemporary pop context). Carlos Vega is a delight with his crisp playing and inimitable snare drum work; his drum sound on Christmas in Rio is awesome.

The core funk tracks are the bass and percussion only Illegal and Lords Of The Low Frequencies on which percussionist Bill Summers and Munyungo Jackson team up with Stanley and Armand Sabal Lecco (who has credits with Brecker Brothers). For the bassplayer, these are sick tracks; both bassplayers are on top of the game playing clean sounding basses with Stanley plucking his piccolo bass melodically to the African slap funk rhythms of Armand Sabal Lecco. The percussion is intense and the whole effect is confounding; there are a ton of rhythms here and the lack of a melody instrument such as a saxophone or a guitar is not felt. When I first heard these tracks, I remember being in awe of Stanley’s ability to dictate melodic phrases and repeat certain figures that would make the solo sound so musical; this has been a big influence. The last of the funk tracks is Funk Is Its Own Reward with Dennis Chambers, Paul Jackson Jr., and Stanley assuming a P-Funk and a Meters like vibe while laying it down; the track has some great glisses by Stanley and also mixes in some Larry Graham style slapping and funky chordal work; Dennis’ sound isn’t so great; this was also when he was experimenting with electronic drums but Paul Jackson Jr. is well represented and his funky guitar figures grab you.

East River Drive is a diverse album; you can not only check out some of Stanley’s most inspired bass playing, but you can also see what a gifted band leader he is in the tradition of Charles Mingus; the fact that he has experimented with so many different musical styles such as Film Scores, Contemporary Jazz, Hip Hop, Funk, Pop, Latin, and Afro in one album with contemporary jazz musicians, still managing to sound fresh, is a continual testimony to the bassist who straddles the acoustic and the electric bass worlds. The album cannot be a summative evaluation of Clarke’s career but many of the things he is known for appear here.

Stanley Clarke has always been a musical innovator but it is my guess that he will be remembered for his approach to the bass, both acoustic and electric, and literally turning the jazz world around in the process.

Check out Stanley’s informative website and blogs at http://www.stanleyclarke.com/

To view a brief history of Stanley, view http://www.soulwalking.co.uk/Stanley%20Clarke.html

Credits for Stanley Clarke – East River Drive

Abraham Laboriel - Bass (Electric)
Alexis England - Vocals (Background)
Allen Sides - Engineer
Alphonso Johnson - Bass (Electric)
Anjani Thomas - Vocals (Background)
Armand Sabal-Lecco - Bass (Electric), Guitar, Piccolo, Piccolo Bass, Programming, Vocals (Background)
Bill Hughes - Copyist, String Contractor
Bill Summers - Percussion
Brian Gardner - Mastering
Carlos Vega - Drums
Caroline Greyshock - Photography
Charles Fambrough - Bass, Bass (Acoustic)
Dan Humann - Engineer, Mixing
Darryl Jackson - Percussion
David Coleman - Art Direction
Dennis Chambers - Drums
Deron Johnson - Keyboards
Doc Powell - Guitar
Doug Webb - Sax (Soprano)
George DelBarrio - Conductor, String Arrangements
George Duke - Keyboards, Piano
George Howard - Bass, Sax (Soprano)
Gerald Albright - Sax (Alto), Sax (Soprano)
Gerry Brown - Drums
Howard Hewett - Vocals
Hubert Laws - Flute
James Earl - Bass (Electric)
Jean-Luc Ponty - Violin
John "J.R." Robinson - Drums
Kenny Kirkland - Piano
Laura Robinson - Vocals (Background)
Michael Hart Thompson - Guitar (Electric)
Michael Thompson - Guitar, Guitar (Electric)
Munyungo Jackson - Percussion
Pancho Sanchez - Conga
Paul Jackson Jr. - Guitar
Poncho Sanchez - Conga
Ramon Banda - Percussion
Stanley Clarke - Arranger, Bass, Main Performer, Producer, Programming, Sequencing, String Arrangements, Tenor Bass, Vocals (Background)
Steve Hunt - Keyboards
Steve Sykes - Engineer, Mixing
Todd Cochrane – Keyboards