Tag: Rochester Jazz Fest

I would loved to have been able to see Heather O’Reilly play tonight against the Flash but then I would have missed this.

We queued up for Bill Frisell’s “Guitar In The Space Age” at Kilbourn and ran into our jazz buddy, Hal, who was recovering from a sports injury. We compared notes on the upcoming acts and broke into the dinner we had packed. Hugh from Nod was up from Utica and in line ahead of us. The time went by fast.

Kenny Wollesen was on drums. Tony Scheer, who has played with everyone from The Lounge Lizzards to Willie Nelson, was on electric bass and Buffalo native, Greg Leisz, played pedal steel and additional guitar. Frisell’s idea of guitar in the space age is decidedly American. We probably do have more junk floating around up there than any other country. The band toyed with Western swing with Hawaiian touches, a two-beat Americana thing, the Kinks “Tired of Waiting,” something funky that sounded a bit like “Mustang Sally” or “Walking The Dog,” Leisz sounded fantastic on slide but he switched to guitar for the middle of the set and that somehow managed to dilute what we came to hear. Brian Wilson’s “In My Room” was rich, “Telstar” was perfect and their version of “Surfer Girl” almost made me cry.

“I tell you this every time I play here. They wouldn’t let me in this school,” Frisell said, from the hall in the eastman School of Music. “45 years later I come back playing surf music to a standing ovation.”

Last night’s notes start here.
First day of this year’s Fest starts here.

Festival Promoter John Nugent pulled a rabbit out of his hat by scheduling Monty Alexander’s Harlem-Kingston Express on one of the big East Avenues stages going head to head with Trombone Shorty to close out the 12th annual Rochester International Jazz Festival.

Monty was our festival favorite from a few years ago and this setting – Monty sitting amidst two bands, his jazz trio with drums and double bass on the left and his reggae heavy Jamaican band on the right – was nothing short of magical. Each band was featured and they traded portions of songs and all played at once while Monty winged it in true jazz master fashion. A seasoned performer and top shelf entertainer, Monty easily handled two electrical outages in the middle of the set by picking up his melodica and getting the crowd to sing along on the Banana Boat song.

It’s going to be so nice to stay home tonight and watch Spain vs. Brazil on the small screen.

Jazz Fest 2013 Notes

Peggi was chatting in the back of Xerox Auditorium while I held her seat. A big guy, who was breathing heavily after climbing the stairs, started to sit in Peggi’s spot so I told him it was taken. He said I looked quieter than the people on the other side of the aisle and then he proceeded to talk my ear off. He said he had taken online harmonica lessons from Howard Levy, the piano player in the group we were about to hear, Trio Globo. Levy used to play with Bela Fleck and the other two parts of the trio played with Paul winter Consort.

According to my new friend Levy plays chromatically and can play any note in any key on any harmonica where most players have harmonicas for each key. He does all this by “overblowing and underblowing” to bend the notes. “Howard is the show,” he said emphatically. And then added, Don’t worry about me. I’ll shut up as soon as the band starts.”

Anat Cohen, the night before in this same room, had incorporated world music into a jazz setting with such remarkable sophistication I found it hard to sit through Trio Globo so I left. That’s why they call it a “Jazz Pass.“

We stopped by the back of the big tent to listen to a bit of Pedrito Martinez Group. We were sort of afraid to go in the front door because the group had been so loud at their Montage show that they chased people out the doors. The next thing we knew, three of the members came out the back of the tent while Pedrito was doing his percussion solo. I was amazed how quickly they pulled out their smart phones. The cowbell player (in the blue), a key player in Afro Cuban music, invited us back in so we took in the rest of their show from the side of the stage. They sounded fantastic.

We were the first ones in line outside the Rochester Club for Luca Ciarla Quartet while the line for the Cuban band at Kilbourn, a show that started at the same time, had already wrapped around the corner and was confusing itself with the line we started. The “Mediterranean Gypsy Jazz” moniker works well for these guys. Laid back, warm and friendly, their personalties carry over to their sound. The crowd went nuts when violin, accordion, double bass and hand drums got into overdrive but they kept the volume in check and always followed it up with something sweet. From Monk to Nino Roto like tunes they reached beyond the gypsy songbook. The accordion player was outstanding.

The line we found in front of Harro East (remember when this place was the Triangle Theater and Wease worked the door and they had all those great reggae acts?) was gone so we stopped in for few songs. I like Catherine Russell’s great voice when she’s not belting it out.

We were kind of looking forward to the Monophonics, the “psychedelic soul” band from the Bay Area. I liked the single we listened to in the iTunes store, a real digital single, two songs for $1.98 and packaged with a big hole 45 and off white sleeve graphic. But, damn, there was nothing psychedelic about them. They were as loud as hell. The guy in front of us had his hands over his ears until he left. The tent was packed with glum looking people in plastic chairs. The gruff vocalist behind the B3 managed to get seven or eight kids up dancing to “Slippin’ Into Darkness” as we slipped out the back.

We were talking earlier to a fellow Jazz Fest passenger, a stranger, who said he has a problem with the Xerox venue because he always falls asleep. The auditorium’s warm sound is perfect for some acts and Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey is one of them. Man, did they sound great! Like the Flaming Lips, a fellow Tulsa band but on the rock side, they are adventurous. Aptly named, the Odyssey wander all over the musical map, with songs arranged but open like a free-range playground. We’ve seen these guys at two earlier festivals and they keep getting better and crazier.

There’s some photos of these acts over here.

The couple in front of us in the line for Tom Harrell were like a bad trip. The woman was dying to talk, to anyone, and there we were. I tried to give detached answers to her questions but when she asked me if I needed help threading the cloth lanyard through my jazz pass I just said, “No,” in a scolding tone.

Behind us a mom was helping her son set up a busking station. She even chummed the waters or primed the pump by putting a dollar bill in the open trumpet case. She probably dressed him too because he looked like he had stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting. As he warmed up his lip the guy in front of us said, “Maybe he’ll use the money for lessons.” The kid played the theme to an Ellington song and I clapped. The guy said, “Don’t encourage him.”

See more Jazz Fest notes by clicking on this year’s pass.