Upton Jazz Festival 2012 Diary: Day 2 Part 2

 Once my lunch was over I proceeded over to “Fat’s Place” where ‘Pete Allen’s Traditional Jazz Seven were performing, as I entered the tent they were playing the Bix Beiderbecke associated number “At the Jazz Band Ball”, unsurprisingly there was no Bass Saxophone in the ensemble to recreate Rollini’s solo, but there was a vocal refrain which I never knew existed bridging the beginning and end sections. Amongst the line up was once again was drumming ace John Peters helping steer the band through a very solid session. Next up the band played a Dixieland standard called “I Want A Little Girl”, which despite its rather dubious sounding name is a rather touching little ballad and about loneliness… perhaps to follow up that wonderfully titled piece they should of done “Thank Heaven For Little Girls” and really set the factor to seedy…. Instead they performed another well known Dixieland standard called the "Darktown Strutter’s Ball", I have various recordings of this including ones by Ella Fitzgerald, Sid Philips and my personal favourite being the one by Harry Roy. The band then played a few more numbers which I sadly do not seem to have noted down, then I moved on.

First up I used the facilities, then as I went to make my way out of Jazz City I made a quick call at a Samaritans stall and purchased a copy of John Le Carre’s The Constant Gardener to add to my ever expanding ‘to read’ list. Once off the main campus and on my way to the road I spotted that the Lamarotte boys had set up an little unofficial performance on the river bank, the only saw of amplification being used was a megaphone attached to a microphone strapped around the rear side of the Soprano Saxophone players waist, so you could say the band was playing out of his arse! As I got there they had just finished off a number and started up a lovely little number called “I Still Love You All”, it is a smashing number which was famously recorded in the trad jazz boom of the late fifties/early sixties by Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen. Once this number was drawing to a close, I spotted Laura from the bar approaching the boys with a wad of plastic glasses and two four point jugs of ale, perhaps I should of pointed out there were nine people in the band but I guess that would be churlish. Once the boys had had their beer break and had a small chin-wag with some of the audience they went on to perform a little known number called "Boodle-am-Shake", this is something of a novelty number which I remember hearing being performed by Acker Bilk, Sandy Brown and Terry Lightfoot on the album “Clarinet Jamboree”. The lyrics are absolute nonsense of course but the tune is rather catchy and fun, if you like Dixieland and clarinet players I strongly suggest you buy this album. Once this impromptu gig had finished I crossed the bridge, pausing to try and scrape some of the Jazz City mud off my feet and went to the bridge bar to refill my pint, this took several attempts as the two beers I first chose ran out on me as they pulled them and were rather cloudy. I settled on what was really a Hobson’s choice for the moment on the Teme Valley beer ‘This’, yup you guessed correctly, they had beers called “This”, “That” and “T’Other”. I did take a photo of the badge for “T’Other” which was in the shape of a finger pointing at the barrel next to it… surely that’s not a good advertising design, odd thing was that as I photographed the badge my camera said it detected a blink, how on Earth does an inanimate object blink????? Once I had consumed my ale and had a brief chat with the barman whose name I still did not find out, I ventured into the town of Upton once again and went to the social club where former Harp regular Bill Bailey was hosting a gig and jam session. I was partially hoping to see if I would encounter my friend and mentor Malcolm Holgarth, but alas it was not to be. I arrived up at the social club towards the end of the gig which was very cramped as the room was not huge, they were playing "Royal Garden Blues" with some Louis Armstrong style vocals, the tune then merged with Duke Ellington’s "C-Jam Blues" before switching to "Shake, Rattle and Roll" before reverting back to the "Royal Garden Blues". While I was at this gig I purchased a pint of the ever excellent Wye Valley Bitter and for the first time since Thursday night had a pint of beer in an actual glass as opposed to a plastic. Well I say plastic, the cup declared it wasn’t plastic but a biodegradable imitation of plastic which is a good thing as there is way too much waste which can’t be broken down clogging up our green and pleasant isle. Well the band finished off their set with Kenny Ball’s number ‘Midnight in Moscow’, a big hit which got to number 4 and 2 in the UK and USA billboard charts respectively, I had a weird experience because I could of sworn blind Rodney Bewes (Bob Ferrries from The Likely Lads), was standing next to me. Obviously it wasn’t him as the man here was too young to be him, but he looked like him a few years older than in the show, I joked to him about this hoping he wouldn’t get offended. Happily he didn’t and was used to it, and was quite surprised I knew who Rodney Bewes was!

No, it's not Rodney Bewes. This photo is actually from the following year's festival.

Once I had consumed my pint I started to make my way back to the bridge, stopping briefly to talk to some lads and lasses of around my age who were quite well dressed and recommend a couple of gigs for them to go to, once at the bridge I nipped into the portaloo and changed into my Tweed jacket and Bow tie ready for the evening’s festivities. Now the amusing thing about these portaloos is that in a superficial way they resemble a police box, or if you prefer, the TARDIS, but unlike the TARDIS these aren’t bigger on the inside and are very cramped inside, especially if your getting changed. Once I was in my evening attire, I donned my Fez and got the barman to photo me as I posed for a photo as Matt Smith’s Doctor, I later captioned it “No Doctor, that isn’t the TARDIS”.

Roger Marks’ Cornish Armada Jazzband started their performance meaning that shortly at the appropriately named venue, the fantastic Edinburgh originated Fat Sam’s Band were due on soon. I took a few snaps of the Roger Marks’ band and moved back to the Jazz City quagmire which was quite bad once again, especially on the way to the entrance to Fat’s Place. I arrived just as the band was beginning to play and I was somewhat surprised to see that the band leader had forgone his usual white and black checked suit for a plain red suit. This may well of been due to the issues with mud, but I do recall that last year the suit was looking quite faded with the white looking grey, on the upside he still had his white clarinet. Noting that the audience response to their first number was a bit muted, the band leader suggested that we “all close our and eyes and join hands to see if we can contact the living.” Which did make me smile if no one else, to get people hep to the jive he led the band into a rip-roaring performance of Cab Calloway’s famous signature tune “Minnie the Moocher”, a tune which thanks to its inclusion in the cult hit The Blues Brothers, is recognised across the generations. This did help get the jive going a little and they followed the number up with Louis Jordan’s “Ain’t Nobody here But Us Chickens”, this prompted several people to get on to the dance floor and boogie. While this number was being played my Fez did the rounds on the dancers and one of the lads sheepishly admitted to me it was rather embarrassing that his dad was a better dancer then him. Once the number was over the lad’s dad returned from the floor and thanked him for the lone of his wife. As the next number started up, the dad returned to the floor with a young lady who could of been either his younger wife/girlfriend or his daughter, I didn’t think it my place to pry. They were somewhat disconcerted to find that the number they were dancing to was a semi-original self-titled piece called “Fat Sam’s Band”, I say semi original because the tune is in fact “Old McDonald” with the farm yard lyrics replaced with details about his band. Once this childishly fun number closed, the band slowed down the pace with a rendition of my favourite ballad; Hoagy Carmichael’s "Stardust". This opened with a fantastic unaccompanied trumpet solo of the opening version before the rest of the band kicked in for the main melody, the number closing off with more focus on the trumpet but this time with rhythm section accompaniment. Once the melody had settled, the tempo got more upbeat and more jivers took to the dance floor, evidently my level of consumption had not reached the saturation point as I had not yet had the urge to go and strut. After this number the band went to intermission and I popped out to have a look around some of the stalls as opposed to heading back to the bar. I called in on the music stall where I noticed that there was a piccolo on sale for £150, I corrected the guy who was manning the stall for the moment who believe it was £15…hey I’m an honest man. Now the reason I was looking at the piccolo was because my sister played the flute for a long time and often talked about getting s piccolo, so I thought it would make a nice belated birthday gift for her as I haven’t bought her a good birthday day present since… well ever. So I paid a deposit and returned to the beer tent to refuel on the Dragon’s Blood, since there was still time I made my way over to another stall. This was a music themed novelty tent and the lady running the stall recognised that I was wearing one of her bow-ties, I purchased a little saxophone pin-badge for (my then-partner) Mary, and had a quick chat with the lady. Turns out she used to be good friends with the late John Burnett, a trumpeter/bandleader who was a frequent regular at the harp until his sudden and unexpected death in 2004. He used to front a band called John Burnett’s Jazz Bandits which was a little more boppy and mainstream then most of the Harp bands of the time, the band sort of continues under the direction of reedsman Pete Clayton under the name Pete Clayton’s Jazz Friends and frequently play at the Waterworks Jazz Club in Birmingham. Once this little catch up was completed I returned to Fat’s Place for the remainder of the Fat Sam’s Band gig, once it was over I purchased a T-Shirt and a couple of CD’s two for myself and one for my friend Amy which I got signed for her.

Once this gig was over I went across the bridge and had a bit of quick chin wag with Laura and the other bar girl before nipping out to the local fish and chip shop for my tea. I had a battered burger and chips, something I don’t think I’ve had since I was aged in single digits and felt that perhaps I should just have someone inject fat directly into my arteries, doing my best to be a nice chap I also bought a bag of chips for the girls at the bar. By now the joys of the British summertime were showing their full due as the rain had started once again, ensuring that the quagmire would get more stick for the remainder of the evening. Luckily the gig I was waiting for was not in Jazz City but under the bridge so I had a relatively easy time of waiting in the beer tent for Carl Sinclair’s second gig of the festival. While I was waiting I was joined at the bar by Carl Sinclair’s brother who is a children’s entertainer and was keeping Laura and the bar staff amused making balloon animals, one of which was a dog with a puppy in its belly, must admit he certainly can shape balloon animals. Now despite being told he was Carl’s brother I would of guessed it as there was a strong family resemblance between the two… although he is rather more corpulent then Carl. He borrowed my Fez and did a few Tommy Cooper poses for camera, a not totally inappropriate exercise in this case. Now due to the previously mentioned issue with the Taxi booking my intended plan to see the Big Chris Barber Band had to be jettisoned so I stayed under the bridge for the Carl Sinclair gig, a wise move as the rain was still beating down and the Jazz city quagmire would no doubt be intensifying. Once again it was the quartet and he kicked off his set with the Ray Charles associated number “What’d I Say” followed by a rather bizarre choice, the Monkee’s “Now I a Believer” played in a suitable blues boogie-woogie style. After that he played homage to Winfred Attwell with “The Poor People of Paris”, a number I associate more with Kenny Ball. While this was being played I nipped off for a drink and this may come as a shock to some but I actually had a cup of Earl Grey, I returned to the gig just as Carl Sinclair started a rendition of a number called “My Babe” (I think) which as I listened to made me think of the criminally over locked pianist and vocalist Mose Allison, an artist who you could say was a musical child of Hoagy Carmichael. It took me a few moments as the caffine cleared the synapses a little, on Mose Allison’s album ‘The Way of the World’ the opening track is called ‘My Brain’ and is based on this tune. Needless to say, the lyrics of the Allison song are far more intelligent and witty. This was the last number for the set and I made my way out to the high street and ran into the lads I met from outside the social club and we went on a last minute hike around the area photographing as many people as we could wearing the fez, a surprising number of people were up for it including an Irish Setter. There is something rather ridiculously amusing about a dog wearing a fez! We made a brief detour to the Jazz City quagmire and got a few people there including most of the band members of Lamarotte, whom each thought it was a fun idea to gurn various faces for the photos. It was then I had to leave for my taxi and discovered how much of a quagmire the pitch was becoming as my shoe came off in the mud and I somehow managed to keep my balance hopping while pulling my shoe out the mud. So my second day at Upton drew to a close earlier then I hoped, it was a shame I never got to see the Big Chris Barber Band but from what I heard on the grapevine the next day, it would seem I didn’t miss out too much. First of all there was quite a lot of queuing to enter the venue, he spot out a bit of time talking rather than playing as well apparently. Well, perhaps an early night was good for me, once back at the hotel I downloaded the pictures and videos of the day, made myself a cup of Pukka Night Time tea and caught up with my book.

Upton Jazz Festival 2012 Diary: Day 2 Part 1

 

I rose from my pit at about 9am after a surprisingly deep and undisturbed sleep, went through to the bathroom to indulge in two of the three S’s a gentlemen’s morning ritual involves, picked up my discarded garments from the night before and was surprised to find that my clothing was weighed down by what felt like a ton of change! If someone had attempted to mug me, all I’d need of done for self-defense would be to whack them with my tweed jacket! I dressed for the day and did my best to try and scrape off the small caking of mud which had adhered to my shoes over the course of the previous day. Once dressed, I tried to make plans for another late taxi for the evening but sadly for me there were only two options available 9:45pm or 1:30am. Being stuck between a rock and a crazy place I decided that going for the earlier Taxi was probably my best option; the down side of this being I would miss the festivals headlining act, the Big Chris Barber Band. A band I very much did want to see and am slightly concerned I may not now get the chance as the chap is 84. Never-mind, I told myself it’s just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes and the reports I would later hear from people, this may not have been such a unfortunate turn of events after all. As I made my exit from my digs I was somewhat surprised to find that Lamarotte, the band who closed the previous night under the bridge were staying at the Days Inn, here they were in full regalia sitting in reception. I was greeted with a friendly “Good Morning Man with Fez,” and I doffed an imaginary hat in polite acknowledgement. As I prepared myself for my long walk to Upton, I stopped off in a Costa Coffee for a Gingerbread Latte to provide me with some sustenance for the journey. As I made my way past the barrier and the air ambulance parked in the field I couldn’t help but notice that everywhere I look it was blissful sunshine… save for a very large black cloud uniquely positioned over Upton upon Severn. My walk that morning was joyfully uninterrupted by rain and I think I may well have made a bit of time on the journey that time around. As I took in my surroundings and approached a small village, I noticed of the farms had an old wooden shed selling vegetable products at quite a reasonable rate and an honesty box by the door, if I were a resident in that area I certainly would make good use of the generous offers on sale there. I arrived in town in time for the Jazz parade, which started at the church and made its way down to Jazz City. There was quite a crowd hovering there to see the parade, festival goers and residents alike, amongst their number I spotted reeds man James Evans who I’d dined with at Bracklesham Bay alongside singer Val Wiseman and the Jazz FM presenter/trombonist the late Campbell Burnap, I don’t think he recognised me though. I nipped into the near bay Co-op and purchased myself a sandwich and a couple of soft drinks, my original plan was to visit a local cafe and have a proper breakfast but time was against me. It was about now that I heard the familiar rhythms of the parade descending the high street with festival organizer “Sir” Alan sort of leading the band, which of course, was the ever brilliant Lamarotte. Preceding the parade were two people in a classic convertible, I think it was a Morgan but I’m not sure, the registration of which was WIN ME. Evidently the was car up for a competition but I never did find out the set up, quite what I’d of done if I had won it is anyone’s guess. Now one of the annoying things about the parade was how every time I tried to take a photo, some bugger walked in front just as I’m taking the picture whether they be passers-by or people trying to take photographs themselves, so I ended up with many pictures of people’s ears and random umbrellas it is unbelievable. I think this is what had put me off photographing the parade last year and the year before. I did finally get some reasonable pictures of the parade, as I observed it I couldn’t help be amused at how Sir Alan was hanging around the young ladies in Union Jack leotards, sparkly red hot pants and fish net stockings… atta boy Alan.

Having taken my snaps of the parade I crossed over to the vast muddy quagmire that was Jazz City, well least the sun was out for now. As I made my journey across the bridge I was tooted at by a passing traction engine, which was rather unexpected to say the least, takes all sorts to make a festival weekend. In comparison to the previous day, Jazz city was now a buzzing hive of activity with many new stalls having been set up, including a hat stall, a musical instrument tent and an Indian cuisine stall and many more people were milling about as best they could in the mud. Extra straw had been laid so the field wasn’t too bad to walk on at that point, I made my way over to the Best of Youth Jazz tent where the excellent Blue Monday Jazz Quartet were performing. This was a very good band I’d stumbled across at the festival last year almost by accident, and knowing they were on the listing I made a point of seeing them. As I took a seat at the back of the tent the band started performing Herbie Hancock’s seminal jazz classic ‘Watermelon Man’, after which they performed ‘Take Five’ complete with a lengthy drum solo to match the original recording but the solo here was far more organized and structured. Once they’d completed the tune they went on to play two original tunes, the first a piece called ‘Latin’, which unsurprisingly was a Bossa Nova number, this was followed by the much funkier “Wake Them up with Jeffery”, which they’d played the previous year. Apparently there is a story behind the name but they were reluctant to tell what it was, I did wonder if one of them had had a bad experience with the cast of children’s puppet show ‘Rainbow’. After this they played ‘Hit the Road Jack’ but had a minor false start as one of the band was playing in the wrong key for the first couple of bars, never mind guys happens to the best of us. I attended a gig not so long ago where the band performed some Glenn Miller and each member of the front line started playing a different tune! Aside from that minor setback the number was completed with the usual gusto and aplomb that I expected from the band. It was just a pity that their slot was so short, an unfortunate side effect of being in the Best of Youth Jazz program I guess. Here’s hoping “Sir” Alan hires them for a full gig in one of the main venues next year, in fact I may put that suggestion in an e-mail to the organisers for 2013. 

Once the Blue Monday Jazz Quartet had finished their excellent performance I went across to my second favourite venue of the festival; Tommy’s Bar, the beer tent, ordered myself a lovely pint of Mild to kick off my shift as it were. Singer Claire Taylor was performing in the bar at this moment, she is a good singer who rather unusually for the festival was performing to a backing track as opposed to support from a band. I sat outside on one of the benches, making the most of the sunshine while it was there and made my battle plan for the day. In the background Claire was singing ‘Autumn Leaves’ in a style not too dissimilar to the late Amy Winehouse.

I set off to check out the gig in Fat’s Place only to find the gig didn’t start for another forty-five minutes, so I made myself across the river to the bridge venue where Dave Stradwick’s Sussex Jazz Kings were performing. This was a six piece band performing very stoic New Orleans style jazz, it wasn’t exactly badly played but it didn’t seem anything special. The only number which really logged with me was a rendition of an Irving Berlin number called “When I Leave This World Behind”; after their set was done they announced that they were doing a Jazz coach tour of France in October and if anyone was interested to see them. I quite like the idea of a jazz coach tour, but I didn’t really fancy going on a tour with this particular band.
Amusingly as I approached the steward on my way out of the venue, he joked “You’re not properly dressed! Where’s your pint?” Perhaps I should be a little worried about that, a bit later on when I returned complete with beer in hand he did comment: “I recognize you now.”

I returned to the Jazz City quagmire and settled down with a pale amber ale by the Teme Brewery called “That”. Claire was starting up again and her first number was a stable of the Count Basie band when Joe Williams was guesting as vocalist, “Every Day I Have the Blues”. I thought now might be an appropriate time to get some food as I’d not really eaten the day before and over done the ale and so far today I had only eaten a cheese sandwich when I watched the parade. Once I’d finished my pint and wished the mud off my hands I went to the soul food stall to visit the Gil Scott-Heron look alike and purchased some consumables. I had a Caribbean style Goat Curry with dumplings and veg. It wasn’t curry in how you might expect Indian curry to taste but it was certainly very tasty and not at all spicy. I did spot a few people seemingly getting put off by the thought of eating goat, seems odd to me as people eat lamb so surely goat isn’t that much of a stretch of the imagination. It tasted unsurprisingly a bit like lamb, but with perhaps more of a pork edge to it, the dumplings were rather dry but perfectly adequate for soaking up the left over sauce.

JAM: Upton Jazz Festival Diary 2012, Day One, Part Two

 

As the Red Stripe gig drew towards its climax I escaped the Jazz city quagmire and returned to venue under the bridge to see the John Peters Jazz and Swing Band, as always the band is very good and certainly a prime example of his particular idiom in Jazz and a champion of some less well known material from over the ages, however I do find that his perception of what jazz somewhat narrow. To him it would seem anything post Swing is the music morons listen to and is not real jazz, an ironic thought considering in his gig last year he did a cover by that famous Rhythm and Blues shouter Wynonie Harris. Well, despite his somewhat limited tunnel vision of what Jazz is and can be, it was a very good gig and the performance was excellent as ever, don’t fault me on that. Back in2003 I had a wonderful time at Jazz weekend he organised down in Bracklesham Bay, but that as they say is another story... After listening to a few numbers and taking a few snaps I stopped off for a quick bite to eat which wasn’t anything exciting, just a nice juicy cheeseburger from the excellent burger stand stationed at the gig, which bizarrely had picture of Henry VIII on its sign, and I my made my way back to Jazz City and managed to not get too bogged down in the mud as I made my way to the beer tent. At the beer tent” Barbara and all that Jazz” were just finishing off their set, which fitted in between the intervals of the main tents... or as it was on this occasion, tent. While I purchased myself a beer, the name of which I can’t recall but it was a very nice blonde beer, I got chatting to a chap who looked the spit of a young Gil Scott-Heron, the man often credited as being the godfather of rap music, he was one of the guys running the ‘Soul Food’ stall.  I went over to Fats’ Place where the Carl Sinclair boogie band was about to play. Carl Sinclair is a performer who I am well acquainted with due to his various visits to Jazz club 90 at the Harp, normally there he just performs as a duo with Howard Smith on drums and they possess enough energy between the two of them to light up half of Shropshire. Here he was in a quartet with Terry Roberts, another familiar face from the Harp, on saxophone. Now the problem I find with Terry Roberts when he appears at the Harp is that the area where the Jazz is performed is rather small, and the band sits in a sort of alcove with a series of photos mounted on whitewashed walls, this as you can imagine can create a lot of reverb when dealing with brass and woodwind instruments, but Terry bless his little cottons, always plays his sax with the microphone directly into the bell... making it very loud! Here his technique was no different, but with it being with a tent with a capacity of six hundred it was not an issue this time. The rest of rhythm section included a bass player and Howard Smith once again on the drums, on this occasion in a change from the usual gigs I’ve seen Carl performed on a actual grand piano as opposed to a keyboard which must of been a nice change for him. Evidently by this stage I had reached a certain point in my ale saturation point as I donned my Fez and had the sudden urge to go and strut my funky stuff, at this point in the gig I was only one of two dancers, the other being an older gentlemen sporting a handlebar moustache which would of made Biggles proud, a red blazer which was adorned with at least fifteen badges from the Upton festivals over the years and a black trilby. Soon we were joined by many more dancers, evidently feeling that if we had the guts to get up and dance they might as well join us, there was as a result much silliness with my Fez being swapped around many times with many of the dancers, I danced with many different partners which is quite unusual for me as I rarely tap my foot let alone go full on boogie. As the gig drew too an end and everyone made a hasty departure toward towards Tommy’s Bar, I ventured across to Mr. Sinclair and purchased he latest two CDs and got one of them signed. I then went across to Tommy’s Bar trying my best not to get sucked down into the Quagmire as I went, fresh rainfall having caused the walk route to be somewhat treacherous, I purchased a pint of the appropriately named ale All That Jazz and decided I had had enough of the mud and once I’d checked out the band at Fat’s Place I’d go to the relatively mud free venue under the bridge. 

The next gig at Fat’s Place was the well known and quite popular “King Pleasure and the Biscuit Boys”, more in the swing boogie variety. While their playing was very good and their dark blue suits look incredibly dapper, to date I have not yet warmed to the band and this occasion was no exception, so I politely waited for the number to finish and made may way out of Jazz City, across the river and back to venue four, under the bridge. I knew here I was in for a treat as the nine piece band marching band ‘Lamerotte’ was performing, this is a very engaging band from Holland of all places which was started in 1974 by a couple of the members just for fun. The write up in the Upton program sports them as being New Orleans Jazz with a wink, while they obviously don’t take themselves too seriously, the music they certainly do. There is something wonderfully everyday about the personnel in the band, maybe it’s the washboard in the rhythm section, the rare use of a sousaphone to add a rhythm or the gaudy costumes, there is a real sense of ordinary folk getting up and having a go... a bit like a skiffle band. The Fez very much made its presence felt here with many people taking the opportunity for a few snaps... cue many Tommy Cooper style poses. I noted with perhaps sad interest that as of yet I had not seen ‘Al Capone’ as he is known, or as I dub him “the scary man with spoons”. This man has been a regular staple of the festival as much as the Parade, the stalls and ‘Sir’ Alan, from what I have been told over the years was he was a former music teacher and big fan of the music and used to be heavily involved in the festival, then he had a an accident and went a little bit off the rails, but every year he’s there tapping out the rhythms the bands play on his trusty teaspoons He’s harmless to be fair but very much a character, last year one of the people even painted a picture of him for the festivals ‘Rogues Gallery’, but his absence did to be present a hint of melancholy to think he may of joined the great jam session in the sky. In his place was a seedy looking guy in a Union Flag hat, again I shouldn’t judge from appearances he’s probably the astronomer royal! The gig was excellent and I did attempt to soak up the copious amounts of beer with a cheeseburger as I was beginning to feel somewhat tired and emotional. Lamarotte were excellent as ever and to show my appreciation I purchased their latest CD. No signature this time though, oh well, it was time then for my taxi so I bid the festival adieu and returned to my digs. The charge was ten pounds which was quite reasonable considering it was to a motorway service station, once within my digs I made a brief phone call to my good friend from London and made myself a cup of Pukka Teas Night Time Tea. A fine blend which really does aid relaxation and soon found myself succumbing to the pleasures of slumber.

JAM: Mike Westbrook

 As part of Jazz Appreciation Month, there does come the negative side of going into the jazz scene, and today is my first ‘negative’ post.

Pianist and Composer Mike Westbrook passed away peacefully in hospital yesterday, 11th April. This was confirmed this morning by his agent.

Here is the Guardian’s obituary for Mike Westbrook, written by Richard Williams.

Jazz Appreciation Month: Taking Care of Business (Album Review)

 

This is an album released on a small Birmingham based label called Big Bear Music, so curious parties are recommended to go direct to the Big Bear Website for a copy.

Tipitina are a jazz/blues based outfit fronted on vocals and guitar by the delectable Debbie Jones with strong support by Justin Randall on Piano, whom I discovered through my various sojourns to the Upton Jazz Festival. Taking Care of Business is their second album and also reaps the benefits of being a live recording and those captures the atmosphere of a performance so often lost in studio.

The album opens up in fine form with a number entitled Hey Pocky Way with Justin tinkling the ivories in a very attention grabbing manner before Debbie joins in on vocals a few bars in, this is a good if a lightweight number but that is no matter as the passion and joy in the music more than makes up for this.

Things get into more substantial territory as the album goes on with two songs written by Randy Newman, a composer who I believe is vastly underrated and whose material should be considered part of the great American Songbook, though sadly the numbers performed are not his classic satirical song "Short People". The first is a classic number called Louisiana 1927, a number about the great flood in 1927 and has subsequently become relevant again due to the devastation caused by hurricane Katrina, not to mention the flooding in this country at the start of this year. Debbie Jones belts out this heart breaking number with a real sense of feeling with the melancholy lyrics having a mournful tone about them perfectly encapsulated by her vocal timbres on the high notes. When performed at Upton 2012 (ironically a washed out festival) the audience were silenced by her performance and it would take someone with a heart of stone not to be moved by this performance. The second Newman number is a much more well known, but no less great, ballad called "Feels Like Home". This is a much more subdued affair, almost sang in conspiratorial tones by Debbie; musically speaking this is a very interesting tune as it is very clearly written in a minor key but the lyrics are very positive which reflects perfectly the songs themes of getting oneself out of the doldrums. Another important thing to note on this track is how good a guitarist Debbie Jones is, a part of the bands performance which often is overlooked by people, myself included.

Another feature of the album is that there are a number of tracks which are medleys; no doubt a reflection of the album being a live recording. The first is entitled Fess Medley and contains three tracks which I believe tend to be associated which Dr. John: Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Big Chief and the track which inspired the band's name, Tipitina. These no doubt are included as to be dance themes for the performance as they all ripe with funky riffs and rhythms. The second combines two tracks, Tico Tico and something from the modern day British songbook; You Know That I'm No Good, a number by Amy Winehouse who died far too young and left us hungry for so much more. The number has a good build up and Jones captures the spirit of Winehouse's almost autobiographical lyrics, it is such a shame though that Jones only includes the second verse of the tune. The final medley is very much a fun one with the cheeky Mama, Don't Allow showcasing each member of the band for a few bars and closing off with the ubiquitous When the Saints Go Marching In.

This is a fantastic album which captures the spirit of a live show in the way many live recordings don't and the icing on the cherry has to be the tracks composed by Debbie and pianist Justin Randall themselves: the album's title track, You Me and the Keys and You Are A Blessing.

JAM: That Big Beat

 I continue Jazz Appreciation Month with another playlist compiled by myself. This one is themed around Big Band Swing and Jazz, featuring a variety of Artists including Jimmie Lunceford, Cab Calloway, Erskine Hawkins and Gordon Goodwin.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1XChxoYHuzvRdN3MX2ji3L?si=s09L2G72TrKDLESvBmw3kQ&pi=z-PlWZ2hTVqi-

JAM: Upton Jazz 2012 Diary. Day 1, part 1.

 Now the problem with digs on a motorway services, as I was soon to be reminded, is that the services are of course 24 hour, I got awoken by what sounded like a battalion of Motorbikes starting up in at about half past four in the morning, and I was subsequently greeted by a series of vehicles starting up every time I was about to nod off again. So I fully woke not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed, but in a good mood. I’m on a short break and have plenty of jazz to look forward to hearing, why let it bother me? What could possibly go wrong?

There fortunately was a walking route to Upton from the services, the walk was down a lot of country roads which were very quiet, an improvement on the festival a few years previous where for a mile and a half I was playing dodge’ems with the oncoming traffic. Towards the end of the walk I made the rather foolish mistake of cutting through a footpath on a field, this field at first seemed okay but once I approached the gate it had become very muddy and sticky, not quite a quagmire but very much how I imagine the Mississippi delta being, on top of that it was heavily over grown so I decided I would avoid that for the next few days. After walking for what seemed like an eternity I was being to think I’d made a wrong turning somewhere but in the distance I saw the familiar white canvas of tents and a large sign saying welcome to the Upton Upon Severn jazz Festival 2012… I think that qualified as a clue.

I arrived at ‘Jazz City’ as they christened the main field where the festival takes place about fifteen minutes later to find the pitch was a muddy field , evidently channelling the cancelled Glastonbury festival. Well, this was my fourth year and the previous years had exemplary weather, so the run had to break at some point I guess. After sorting my tickets out and putting up with a series of grumblers complaining that some of the venues had been moved because the ground was too boggy and dangerous for the bands to perform I went to Tommy’s bar, the principal beer tent for the festival. I assume the bar was named after the late great band leader Tommy Dorsey and settled on a pint of Mild as I planned my day. The bar as last year was very much a real ale festival with about twenty ales on sale with a few cask ciders and perries as well, so I knew I was in for a good time drink wise. I later found that the part of the field where the gigs had been cancelled and moved had over three inches of water on it which would of presented a major risk for the electrics, I wonder if those grumblers ever out that into the equation?

The first gig I attended was by ‘Terry’s Dead Good Boys’, a six piece band consisting of trombone, trumpet, reeds, drums, bass and piano; this was situated under the main road bridge across the river and I insist even to this day, that because of the reverb off the concrete and steel, the acoustics are better in the beer tent, I insist on that no matter what people say.. I joined the gig as the band performed the ‘Hiwatha rag’, a tune I had previously heard on an Acker Bilk/Terry Lightfoot/ Archie Semple/ Sandy Brown album called ‘Clarinet Jamboree’, this was followed by a song called ‘If I Had My Way’ with a vocal in a rather thick Yorkshire accent which made the singer come across as a dirty old man. While I was at this performance I encountered two of my regulars from my local Jazz Club, then a chap waved at me from across the audience and walked up to me, shook my hand and gave me all the pleasantries ; “How are you?”; “looking good”… etc. I returned the favour and indulged in a small bout of small talk but was constantly thinking ‘Who the bloody hell are you?” The band then returned to a number made familiar to me by Acker Bilk called ’Dardenella’, which the a member of the band introduced by telling the story of how he got hold of his first records. He did this by supply the owner of his local record shop with bottles of Sherry! After this number was completed the reeds man switched to Soprano Saxophone and the band performed that well known standard "China Boy" , I’m a tad overly familiar with it so I took that opportunity to purchase a beer from the bar. This time around it was an amber coloured ale by the Teme Valley Brewery called T’Other Ale. I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by the same barman who was working last year; it is nice to have a sense of continuity. After quietly consuming the ale, the bar man lent over to me and inquired, “now you were here last year. Is it me or has the bridge changed colour?” I looked and he was right, the bridge was now dark blue with golden posts, the previous years it had been dark green, I later would inquire about this with one of the stewards who informed me that the bridge was repainted to coincide with a visit by His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales and that there is a picture of him emerging from the bridge somewhere. I then broke into a little chat about Upton itself and we were trying to figure out if there was another bridge across the river as well as, or prior to, the one the band was performing. I said while I had a wander round I’d have goosey for him, we then talked about the history of the town and the many pubs which it sported. I told him about the Upton Muggery, a well known historic pub it would seem which I remember distinctly from my first visit for many reasons including the rather nice Desperate Dan Pies, which were large beef pies which had potatoes and vegetables mixed in them. I assure you, they were very filling. The other reason, which evidently where the name sports from, is the vast collection of mugs adorning the ceiling and walls throughout the length of the pub. My barman friend however had misheard me and thought I’d said Bugs and was asking whether or not it gave specifics on the species. I corrected him upon his error, just as well because it did occur to me he may of thought the pub was called the ‘Upton Buggery’…. The band then started up a rather good version of a favourite George Melly number of mine called “Goody Goody”. After this number the band launched into a duet number intended for a male/female set of vocalists, the lack of females meant that the duet descended into an irritating bout of Pythonesque silly voices, I figured this was my cue to finish my pint, find a cash point and move on.

T'Other Ale

Once I visited the cash point and relieved my account of some cash, I made a slight detour around the town partially inspired by my conversation with the barman. I did spot a footbridge in the so far distance but declined to investigate the bridge itself and instead visited a lovely second hand bookshop. Now I know these Kindles are all the rage these days but in my opinion you will never beat the feel, texture and character of a book. They tell stories and I don’t just mean the text within but the creases down the spine, the smell of the paper, the inscriptions written inside. A book is more then a simple collection of words to form a narrative, it’s a mini-time capsule. The shop isn’t very big and moving around it when it has a few people are in it can prove to be akin to performing a quadrille, there were many books from over the years including a Biggles annual, some old penguin books and some collections of Saint stories. I did hope to see if I could find some Sexton Blake stories but that was unsuccessful. I did however walk away with a series of Saint Stories and an old John Buchan novel. With my purchases made, I returned to the Quagmire which was Jazz city and made my way to “Fat’s Place” where the Casablanca Steps were performing, a band whose name I had come across several times before but had yet to see them perform. I joined them as they were, ironically I assume, playing that lovely upbeat song made famous by that excellent comedy duo Morecombe & Wise “Bring Me Sunshine”, however the quagmire state of the ground meant that I was unable to lead up the aisles as they played… although I did do the glasses thing which no one noticed. The band were immaculately dressed in full dinner dress complete with buttonholes and not a sign of mud, I guess they had changed back stage or done what I should of done and invested in some Wellington boots. The band then departed from the stage leaving the pianist to do a solo piece, in which he used the Jubilee as a starting point for inspiration and selected Ellington’s wonderful piece “A Single Petal of a Rose” from the Royal Suite. This corrected a misnomer of mine as I always thought “Single Petal” was a Billy Strayhorn composition, once this was performed the rest of the band returned to the stage and returned to some summer antics with a tune called ‘Brazil’, the trombone player admitting as he introduced the piece that he like a Brazilian… that received a few more titters from the audience then it deserved. I quickly nipped across to Tommy’s bar, well as quickly as the mud would allow me, and refuelled my pint glass with a beer called St. George’s Ale, a dark brown ale with a strong malty taste. My return to Fat’s was greeted with famous Scott Joplin rag ‘The Entertainer’ which was accompanying a multitude of on stage shenanigans involving Velcro hats, tennis balls and sticks all of which was set in time to the music, all of which were Joplin Rags including the Maple Leaf Rag, Elite Syncopations and the Ragtime Dance before returning back to the Entertainer. Noting that the Best of Youth Jazz tent had Commenced, I popped across as I do think its important to support the promotion of Jazz in today’s youth. I was greeted by the familiar tune of ‘Tequila’ which was being performed very well, I was then indulged by a performance of George Shearing’s signature tune “Lullaby of Birdland” which the orchestrator incorrectly described as a swing piece, when in reality it is in fact a laid back piece of bebop. It was performed well by the musicians in the band but I don’t feel it really lends itself to large ensembles, while this was being performed the acoustics were joined by the clanking and hissing of several tractors laying down fresh straw onto the quagmire to make walking easier. The set concluded with a surprisingly modern number in the form of Herbie Hancock’s famous composition “Cantaloupe Island”, a break from the normal repertoire for a festival which was principally a Dixieland/Swing festival.

My need to eat was starting to get the better of me so I when to a nearby stall for a sandwich and a cup of Tea, I considered having a Venison burger but thought it a little dear and settled on a Bacon sandwich. The Bacon was a little salty but never mind, each to their own. I nipped across to Tommy’s Bar and got myself another pint of T’Other Ale and returned to the Best of Youth Jazz Tent for the Brownfield/Byrne Quintet, a gig I knew would be excellent. Jamie Brownfield is a very talented young trumpet player who I have had the pleasure of seeing performing many times over the past few years at Jazz Club 90 in the Harp, both on his own name and as guest with Bill Basey’s Gramophone 5+1 and others; and with Severnside Jazz band at Shrewsbury which was also with Bill Basey. Now it seemed like it would be a good idea to co-ordinate my plans better as many gigs were being moved out and about all over the shop due to the issues with the quagmire, so I made a note of some of the gigs I wanted to see whilst the band played on. Brownfield opened his set with the classic standard “Way Down Yonder in New Orleans”, which was played with the usual gusto I had come to expect from the boys, as were the following numbers “Sunny Side of the Street” and the “Royal Garden Blues”. For his performance was sporting a tweed jacket, proving he, like me evidently knows that tweed is cool. Whilst the music was excellent I knew that he was due for a performance in the Harp shortly so I departed to Fats Place to watch the Red Stripe Band, the name of which gave me the mental image of Fidel, Lenin and Marx performing together with a guest spot for Tse-Tung thrown in for good measure.
As you will probably guess, this did not turn out to be a communist jazz band, but a pretty awesome swing-cum-boogie band complete with attractive young ladies… so I wasn’t moaning, one bizarrely was sporting a David Crocket hat though. This was the gig for which I switched from my black Jacket to my tweed coat and bow tie, bow ties are cool. The fez would make its first festival appearance in Fat’s Place but not just yet, I was joining in with the hand waving while the band performed Blueberry Hill which sported an excellent baritone saxophone solo by an attractive young lady sax player, one who was not wearing a David Crocket hat.