Performance Review

Divine divas double pleasure and fun in KC

Marilyn Maye at Jardine's and Carmen Lundy at the Blue Room

By Butch Berman

KANSAS CITY, Mo.—I don’t know how I first discovered Carmen Lundy, but knew I dug her and had a few of her CDs. While I was in New York City, Fred Cohen, proprietor of my favorite East Coast record store, The Jazz Record Center, when asked if Grace and I should catch George Coleman at Smoke or Carmen Lundy at the now-defunct La Jazz au Bar, proclaimed, “Carmen Lundy’s in town? She doesn’t play here enough. You must not miss her,” or words to that effect. We went. We were floored, totally mesmerized. Now I own ALL of her stuff, and hope to catch her stunning show again.

On the other hand, I grew up in the early days of Steve Allen, Jack Paar and Johnny Carson, so Marilyn Maye was no secret to me. However, being a youngster, regardless of how precocious I was, I really couldn’t appreciate her greatness until I was ready to embrace jazz and the fine art of really knowing how to sing and entertain an audience, whether it’s “old school,” “new school” or no school at all. Early recordings with her fabulous pianist husband, the late Sammy Tucker, are simply splendid, timeless music by true professionals. Now back to her early roots in KC, I had yet to catch her magic, knowing this was also 40-some years later.

Moving ahead to the present…I flipped when I checked out the summer jazz calendar in a fine jazz rag from KC called JAM (Jazz Ambassadors Magazine) and saw that performing back-to-back in my current two most frequented KC jazz night clubs, Jardine’s and The Blue Room, were Ms. Maye and Ms. Lundy. I was truly in jazz heaven, and quivered in anticipation approaching that magical weekend awaiting us. Let me tell you…all expectations were met in spades and then some. It was perhaps my all-time most memorable weekend in KC, and we’re talking decades here.        

First of all, I’ve always enjoyed Jardine’s at 4536 Main St. Because Grace and I always stay at the Embassy Suites in KC’s busy Westport area, Jardine’s is a mere 10-minute walk to its front door. We’re semi-regulars there, and were greeted warmly by Armida Orozco, their singer-manager, and later met Pat Hanrahan, who bought an interest in the club in November 2004.

When Ms. Maye does her incredible shows there, she turns the place into a mini KC version of the best NYC cabaret night clubs. A black curtain shrouds the stage, making the perfect backdrop for an intimate evening of entertainment. All the musicians were in tuxes and her pinpoint lighting spotlights her beautifully. They even lock the front door after each sold-out crowd arrives to insure total attention upon the artists on stage. Even the wait crew serving the yummy menu items and drinks never get in the way or disrupt the performances. You get the picture…a great scene to appreciate one of the all-time pros in show-biz, and what a talent she is. Now in her late 70s, Marilyn is still a very classy, stunning woman dressed to the nines and ready to make you forget any troubles you may have brought with you to her concerts. 

Marilyn did two separate shows nightly, one comprising her jazz roots with well chosen standards and ballads, and the other a very special tribute to the late, great Ray Charles, which is the set we chose to attend. After a rousing “Let the Good Times Roll,” with a clever change of the original lyrics redone by herself to pay further homage to Mr. C., she tackled his songbook with loving enthusiasm, done in the style she’s famous for. Every selection from, of course, “Georgia on My Mind” to more obscure tunes like “Busted” held the audience in rapt attention. 

Her back-up musicians, led by the always-fabulous pianist, singer and arranger from NYC, Billy Stritch (on loan from Liza Minnelli), were perfectly on the mark. KC’s own best of the best were as always…the best—Gerald Spaits on bass (always a gentleman with superb chops and intonation), Rod Fleeman on guitar (always a trip to hear and watch…this may have been the wildest gig I’ve ever heard him on, and he’s always ON) and former KC homeboy, now transplanted to—I think—Ohio, sax-man Hal Melia. I’d never caught his playing before, and he was terrific on sax, flute and back-up vocals. Marilyn’s long-time drummer, Jim Eklof of Des Moines, was on hand to propel this stellar band to lofty heights behind the main star of the evening, Marilyn Maye.

After a well-deserved standing ovation, a long line formed at the rear of the club for all of the folks in attendance to meet and greet her. Gerald led me and Grace to the head of the line to do our thing, and she was such a lady, and a total doll to boot, autographing a very old LP she was on before her career took off, called “Cool Sounds from Kansas City” on the Modern Jazz Workshop label. I had found it at the now-defunct Music Exchange record store in KC.

After the gig, I picked up her newest CD, called “Maye Sings Ray,” recorded at Ron Ubel’s Soundtrek Studios, and I highly recommend it to all Maye and Ray fans. You can hear the same killer band, along with help from Todd Strait, Danny Embrey, Everette DeVan, Matt Hopper and Kevin Frazee. If you want to contact Ms. Maye for any additional recordings, etc., you may call her at (816) 591-1114.

Still reeling from the feeling of the night before, Grace and I headed out to our other fave jazz venue, The Blue Room, located in Kansas City’s 18^th & Vine Historic District. It would take pretty big shoes to fill for any performer to “follow” Ms. Maye, but Carmen Lundy in not just “any” performer. We were in for another tremendous night of magic. Lucky, lucky us.

The Blue Room, run by another fine KC cat, saxophonist Gerald Dunn, also took good care of us. A perfect table for two right in front of their always well-tuned piano, and just underneath the microphone soon to be used to perfection by the main event, vocalist extraordinaire Carmen Lundy.

I knew we were in for a good night when Carmen strolled on stage, looking lovely as always, so poised and confidant, and asked the not-yet-filled-to-capacity audience who owned CDs or records by her. One dude said he had two. She approached me with the same question to which I replied…”Uh…all of them?”  Looking warmly into my eyes, she clasped my hand, smiled that smile of hers, turned to her band and proceeded to blow everybody’s mind within moments of hearing her spellbinding golden voice.

Also a professional painter of merit, she projects each song she writes and sings like separate portraits, which change shape, evolve and envelope you in a swirl of wonderment each time you’re fortunate enough to hear her live. Choosing not to cover any standards anymore, she’s now creating them, writing stark, thoughtful important stories through song that literally take you to other places in your mind. Akin at times to hearing the departed Betty Carter and Shirley Horn, you sometimes forget to breathe as their hypnotic zones of perfection overwhelm you. Carmen, singing you her life, is no exception…a true renaissance woman with an immense strength and divine spirituality.

Her musical journey has carried her through 30 years of growth, hard work and enchantment. This current tour, called “Carmen Lundy: Jazz and the New Songbook,” covers the best of her efforts and is now available on CD and DVD.  Her sets from her Los Angeles show, “Live at the Madrid,” was recorded Feb. 18, 2005, at the Madrid Theatre with a host of today’s best jazz cats in the biz who have been down these same roads with her for all those years. Her brother, bassist Curtis Lundy, Bobby Watson, Victor Lewis, Marvin “Smitty” Smith, Mayra Casales, Steve Turre, Billy Childs and Rober Glasper, to name a few, were on hand, as well as bass player Kenny Davis, who was with her that memorable night in KC.

A new pianist, Jesse McBride, who Carmen recently discovered, was making his debut that evening in KC. An exciting young talent, who’s moving from Houston to the “Big Apple” after losing his home in New Orleans, thanks to Hurricane Katrina, will be a cat to watch. Local drummer Michael Warren, I thought, did a great job in handling her sophisticated catalogue of material, most of which is on the aforementioned new releases. Obviously, in not having her own band with her that night, the evening had a couple of minor flaws, but you would’ve had to be a player to notice. She led the band through some tricky waters and kept afloat, sounding just as tight and solid as when I first saw her in NYC. So soulful, totally real, and passionate, with a sly, sexy demeanor that captures you every second she’s on stage, yet never denies you the truth she generates.

We finally got to meet her after the amazing second set that convinced any first-time Carmen Lundy patron how unforgettable she is. It was no surprise to us that she came on so sweet, friendly and willing to take the time to “hang” with her adoring fans. We hope to catch her act for a third time in May, when she takes the tour to one of the best jazz venues in the United States, Yoshi’s in Oakland, Calif. We hope to do a long interview with Carmen for the summer edition of Jazz. Even after 30 years, Carmen Lundy still isn’t a household name, but I feel she is on the verge of becoming one of the all-time masters of her craft. Anybody that has experienced her heartwarming and thrilling artistic charms will testify to that.

KC is always a first class musical adventure destination, but it will be awhile before we’ll be able to “get off” like the weekend we were blown away by Marilyn Maye and Carmen Lundy. Praise the Lord. 

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Performance Review

Harris & Blackout among today's best in jazz

By Tom Ineck

LINCOLN, Neb.—The performance of Jan. 18 at P.O. Pears in downtown Lincoln exuded the fraternal mood of a high school reunion or a homecoming of old companions.

The occasion was the return to Nebraska of saxophonists Jeff Newell and Frank Basile, each of which has gone his separate way in seeking jazz opportunities beyond their home state. In their younger days, each had performed with the Nebraska Jazz Orchestra, a venerable jazz ensemble with a 30-year history and a considerable roster of illustrious alumni.

Newell and Basile had appeared the previous night as guest artists with the Nebraska Jazz Orchestra. But this more informal small-group encounter at P.O. Pears allowed them to stretch out and blow. Along for the righteous ride were guitarist Pete Bouffard, bassist Rusty White and drummer Joey Gulizia, all longtime jazz players in the Lincoln and Omaha areas. 

Newell’s edgy alto excursions contrasted nicely with Basile’s brawny baritone. Both are generous players who exhibited an instant camaraderie with each other and the rest of the band.

The quintet took “It Could Happen to You” at a medium tempo and made it swing. Joe Henderson’s samba “Recorda Me” received the appropriately percussive treatment, with White slapping the bass strings with gusto. The band applied a New Orleans-style, second-line rhythm to Juan Tizol’s “Caravan.” Playing his guitar synthesizer, Bouffard created a lush keyboard sound, Basile took a driving baritone solo, and Gulizia laid down a percussion tour de force. His alto sax lines leaping and spiraling, Newell quoted “Sweet Georgia Brown” as he explored the horn’s lower range.

Newell stated the familiar melody on “Body and Soul,” with Basile answering on the bridge, a reprise of the melody and a baritone solo. Newell and Bouffard took solos before Newell returned to the melody and a soaring cadenza. “Whispering,” also known in bop circles as “Groovin’ High,” finished the first set with an alto-baritone workout.

“Autumn Leaves” featured a Newell alto solo that cleverly quoted “Softly as In a Morning Sunrise.” The dual horns stated the funky melody of Charles Mingus’ “Nostalgia in Times Square,” setting up solos for Newell, Basile, Bouffard and White, whose playing was especially soulful. Liz Love joined the band on alto sax for a couple of tunes, including “St. Thomas,” the Sonny Rollins calypso, with Bouffard creating the sound of steel drums on the guitar synth. With a three-sax front line, the band played Monk’s “Straight, No Chaser,” with bassist John Kotchian of Omaha capably sitting in for White.

Both musicians and audience members enjoyed a communal comfort level that is rarely achieved in the concert hall. As always, the ambience proved that a small club still is the best venue for jazz expression and interaction.

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By Tom Ineck

Music artists not usually associated with jazz can occasionally shed significant light on the improvisational art form that we usually label “jazz.” This certain something is hard to define, but it usually contains elements of risk, adventure and openness to serendipity. Oh yes, it also requires a technical mastery of one’s chosen instrument.

In recent months, I witnessed two non-jazz performances in Lincoln, Nebraska, that rose to that level of excitement, unpredictability and virtuosity. Bluegrass guitarist Mike Marshall and fiddler Darol Anger appeared March 1 at the Lied Center for Performing Arts with young firebrand Jake Shimabukuro, a 29-year-old Hawaiian whose chosen instrument just happens to be his native ukulele. Back on Nov. 13, multi-instrumentalist David Lindley performed a solo concert at the venerable Zoo Bar.

These shows, by the way, had at least one thing in common with most jazz concerts. They were performed on acoustic instruments, giving the proceedings a distinctly organic sound and, not coincidentally, an intimate feel for artists and audiences alike. Shimabukuro played to more than 1,000 people and Lindley to no more than a couple hundred.

Shimabukuro, Marshall and Anger

With their veteran chops and maturity, Marshall and Anger provided a nice balance to Shimabukuro’s impetuous energy and precocious technique. Marshall, switching from mandolin to guitar to mandocello, helped to keep the sound balanced, too, by offsetting the uke’s characteristically thin, high-register tone. Similarly, Anger alternated between standard violin and a low-register, cello-toned fiddle.

Longtime friends and recording colleagues, the duo began the concert with a varied 45-minute set that included the old ballad “Down in the Willow Garden,” a Brazilian choro, an Anger composition based on Bach’s 5^th Suite for Cello, and the Marshall-penned tunes “Gator Strut” and “Borealis.” The rapport that Marshall and Anger have gained from more than 25 years of playing together was evident in their subtle cues and call-and-response interplay.

After intermission, Shimabukuro took the stage alone and launched into a respectfully tender reading of Schubert’s “Ave Maria,” immediately showcasing his amazing classical technique on the four-stringed instrument usually associated with the strumming of simple chords, ala Tiny Tim. But the young Hawaiian’s bag of tricks goes way beyond the classics. During an original tune called “Me and Shirley T.,” he broke into a rapid-fire quote from Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.”

“Let’s Dance,” another original tune, had Shimabukuro showing off his faultless hammer-on technique and flamenco flourishes. He displayed super-fast finger picking on “Orange World,” inspired by his tours with banjo virtuoso Bela Fleck. A faithful rendition of “Over the Rainbow” was followed by “3^rd Stream,” on which he alternated single-note runs and rhythmic chording patterns with amazing dexterity.

The jazz esthetic finally emerged full-blown when the trio joined forces, beginning with Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints,” with Marshall on mandocello and Anger on that odd “fiddle-cello.” The effect was that of a full-bodied string ensemble. With its complex chord progression and tricky timing, Chick Corea’s “Spain” was a perfect platform for the trio’s sensitive jazz interplay. They finished off with a lovely version of George Harrison’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

It was not your typical concert—of any genre—but instead stretched the boundaries of genre and made pigeonholes irrelevant.

David Lindley

Likewise, Lindley’s performance defied category. Always an iconoclast, he remains youthful despite his 60-plus years. He still wears his hair long (with muttonchops) and dons outrageous polyester tropical shirts for every appearance. More important, his approach to music remains adventurous, ranging from blues and roots rock to more the exotic song forms of the Middle East.

In fitting deference to the catastrophe visited on New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina, Lindley began and ended with Crescent City classics. He played lap-steel guitar on the bluesy opener, Professor Longhair’s “Her Mind Is Gone.” Also among the first set’s more interesting offerings were Steve Earle’s “Copperhead Road,” Bruce Springsteen’s “Brothers Under the Bridge,” which was culled from an obscure anthology of the Boss’s music, and “Seminole Bingo,” by Warren Zevon, with whom Lindley toured and recorded for many years.

Switching to the bouzouki, a stringed instrument popular in traditional Irish and Greek music, Lindley played the soulful “Soul of a Man,” written by Blind Willie Johnson. Supposedly inspired by the blues boogie style of John Lee Hooker was Lindley’s hilarious “When a Guy Gets Boobs,” a self-effacing, unflattering self-portrait of a man gradually turning into his father.

Casting back to that magical musical year 1969, Lindley performed two movements from “Seven-Ate Sweet,” an instrumental masterpiece which first appeared in an 11-minute version on “The Incredible Kaleidoscope,” the third release by the band co-founded in 1966 by Lindley and Solomon Feldthouse. The tune draws from Turkish music, among other assorted musical influences.

“Catfood Sandwiches” is Lindley’s ode to backstage food. A sample lyric: “Sandwiches served backstage, made by a woman who looks like Jimmy Page.” A great storyteller, Lindley related the hilarious tale of a Dublin concert he headlined with Ry Cooder, his son Joachim Cooder and Lindley’s daughter, Rosanne Lindley, a vegetarian. Served disgusting-looking headcheese in the dressing room, they couldn’t bring themselves to eat, even when Paddy Moloney of the Chieftains hungrily dipped into it while visiting.

For an encore, Lindley turned again to the Zevon songbook for “The Indifference of Heaven.” A second encore concluded the evening with the New Orleans good-time dance tune “Bon Ton Roulle.”

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