The set delivered on the first evening by Laura Jurd’s new quartet was still glowing in the memory by the end of the weekend. Jurd’s tightly scripted dancing folk-inspired melodies were coloured by Cori Smith’s viola, anchored by Tara Cunningham’s mesmerising, sparse guitar work, and infused with an exciting open-ness and freedom by Corrie Dick’s drumming.  Jurd was on scintillating form and the Ornette-ish, propulsive energy running through the set teased this listener with the idea that maybe the band represented ‘The Shape of Folk To Come’.  Pianist Ky Osborne’s quartet had opened the evening with an absorbing set of imaginatively re-worked familiar standards, showing us that the Tomorrow’s Warriors stable is continuing to nurture exciting new talent.

As Keven Figes’ You Are Here Sextet tore into a version of King Crimson’s Catfood, bringing Saturday afternoon to the boil with Jim Blomfield clattering gloriously on piano, there was a collective sigh of appreciation. The Sextet play repertoire by Keith Tippett and others linked to him, and the distinctive spirit and energy of the music and improvisation were warmly received. The next day, another former Tippett collaborator, saxophonist Larry Stabbins, introduced his Sunday afternoon set saying “Welcome to the Old School” before showing what he meant by conjuring up a maelstrom with his partners Paul Rogers onhis extraordinary bespoke bass, and drummer Mark Sanders. Dee Byrne had kicked off Saturday with her Outlines band and a contemporary approach to small band, collective, free-wheeling improvisations. Her layered and pulsing themes, driven along by the energy of Olie Brice’s bass and Andrew Lisle on the kit, prepared the ground for some formidable and expansive soloing, not least from Byrne herself.

The Scottish Secret Path Trio brought a twist on folk fused with jazz on Saturday evening. Fraser Fifield’s low whistle unfailingly evoked misty moors and mountains high, only for a reel to gain a Caribbean lilt or Paul Harrison’s gospely keyboard inflections to subvert a jig.  A blistering bag-pipe display took on the feel of a modal workout as Tom Bancroft’s cymbals sizzled and Harrison switched to piano. An entertaining set by Nani Vazani followed, taking us on a cultural tour with songs in the ancient Ladino language, before Molecatcher provided another highlight. The new trio combine Iain Ballamy’s sax, with Rob Luft’s guitar and Conor Chaplin’s bass. The result was meditative improvisations from which the shapes of melodies emerged and shimmered, or a pulse condensed launching them into a quietly bustling bossa. An original of Luft’s, As Time Passes, gave space for their respective melodic imaginations to unfurl. It was a beautiful, exquisitely paced set.

The Sunday afternoon session brought the weekend to a close with Stabbins’ trio appearing after a set of attractively crafted songs from Ribbons, the collaboration of pianist Rebecca Nash and Sara Colman with Henrik Jensen on bass and Jonathan Silk on drums completing the band. The third and final set of the afternoon provided the perfect ending. Huw Warren on piano combined with Angharad Jenkins to perform their project Calennig, a collection ofsettings of Welsh songs and carols mixed with a few originals. Jenkins declared herself ‘a folky’ at the outset, but no one seemed to care about the labels as the duo coloured and inhabited the songs. The ringing declarations of ‘happy new year’ in Welsh were rapturously received and reciprocated.

With capacity audiences at all five sessions and this year marking the fifth edition of the weekend that rose phoenix-like in 2023 after an enforced absence, Bath Jazz Weekend has planted itself firmly in the calendar as a fully immersive and joyful musical entrée to the new year.  

The post Bath Jazz Weekend 2025 first appeared on UK Jazz News.

A few rippling chords, a skipping bass pedal note, the caress of a cymbal is all took to set up a viscerally grooving pulse. Guest-with-the-trio tenor-man Mark Lockheart eased in with a breathy, sighing phrase to kick off Beatrice, ‘This is going to be good’, I thought.

Kaiyo 3, the trio built around the mutual musical telepathy of pianist Simon Purcell and bassist Amy Baldwin, like to be open to surprses and to respond in the moment.  The onset of winter and seasonal bugs threw a curve ball for this gig, and as we arrived the band had morphed into a Kaiyo 3 still anchored by Baldwin, but now with Alcyona Mick in the piano chair and Winston Clifford behind the kit replacing the advertised Corrie Dick. Regret at the enforced absence of Purcell and Dick was replaced by excited anticipation at the quality of the freshly minted trio/ quartet.  By the time British Jazz legend/ national treasure Henry Lowther had sat in during the second set, expectations were wildly exceeded.  

The band wove a twisting path through an eclectic repertoire. Beatrice took off, driven by the boiling energy of Clifford at the drums, given a bristling, assertive reading of the Sam Rivers classics. Then three chiming chords from the piano and we were swept into the astringent beauty of the late John Taylor’s sound-world with his piece In February, it almost seemed like the piece was written for the robust but emotionally ragged sweep of Lockheart’s playing. A hand-brake turn took us into Jitterbug Waltz, before another swerve and the dreamy, chanting melody of Bill Frisell’s Strange Meeting conjured a muted, almost anthemic climax from the band.

Alcyona Mick was a delightful, mecurial, revelation at the piano. A few chords or phrases were sufficient to set the tone, no matter the style. From the pulsating post-bop of the opener to John Taylor with one rippled chord, then bending Fat’s Waller’s classic out of shape with a divergent imagination, before simple phrases immediately evoked the open-ness and space of Bill Frisell’s sound.

The group were stretching out together however and constantly surprising. A standout moment opened the second set on the Shorter classic 502 Blues. After the instantly recognisable theme, Mick seemed to unpack every possibility of the harmony from the inside out and lay it out before us with dense, swirling patterns, then Baldwin’s bass solo opened out and painted the possibilities of the melody with finely sculpted lines and just-so use of space; it was a don’t forget to breathe moment.   Lowther joined the action and familiar standards, Invitation, Yesterdays, were explored and took us to an all-too-soon climax.

This may not have been the gig Kaiyo 3 plus 1 had expected, but the joy of the music and the quality of the musicians is that the unexpected is an occasion to create something new and special. We went out into the chilly London night thoroughly stimulated, warmed and uplifted.

The post Kaiyo 3 with Mark Lockheart first appeared on UK Jazz News.

Just for a moment, I thought I’d fallen through a wormhole and woken up in a Sonny Rollins/ Thelonious Monk gig at the legendary Five Spot in New York. A packed underground room with a bar in the corner, all attention focused on the band; warm but edgy tenor unfurling a hooky motif over a loose rollin(g) sequence; pianist with hat punctuating the flow with spiky chords; anticipation reflected in the leaning-forward posture of the audience.

Hang on, no, it’s 2024, not 1958, It’s the first night of the London Jazz Festival, we’re at Crazy Coq’s in central London, and that attention grabbing tenor is wielded by Denys Baptiste.  Sultan Stevenson is at the piano and Baptiste has introduced this band as his new quartet with Larry Bartley on the bass and Joel Barford behind the kit. They were digging into a Baptiste composition from his first album released 25 years ago, Rollinstone, a tribute to Rollins that had a sprinkling of the elusive magic and magnetic energy with which Monk imbued apparently simple melodic and harmonic materials.

Baptiste hinted that this was one of the the quartet’s first outings as a unit, and there was just a sense of them stretching their legs and finding their way together through the first couple of Baptiste originals. They really began to hit their stride with Beatrice, the Sam Rivers classic. They slid and sketched their way into the theme, then Stephenson somehow conjured the sense of an epic poem with a solo over a few choruses. fragments of harmony and flurries of broken phrases gradually coalescing into an not-quite-restatement of the theme. Baptiste picked up the baton and really began to stretch out. He combines fire and fluency with a tender lyricism and reminded us why he’s been turning heads and making people stop and listen for nearly three decades as he let fly. Barford was spectacular goading him on.

They continued with some classics and standards. Chick Corea’s Bud Powell, the ballad Say It (over and over again), and a hypersonic tempo exit on rhythm changes, starting with The Theme  and signing off with The Flintstones. Stephenson supplied another stand out moment with an exquisitely paced, sublime solo on Say It, holding back, scattering little motifs that seemed to seep through the harmony; Baptiste whispered intimately on the ballad, turned on the after-burners for The Theme, we didn’t want him to stop. Bartley, quietly, was the propulsive beating heart with Barford constantly colouring and nudging things on.

The quartet are individually remarkable musicians. On this showing they are rapidly forming into a collective that has its own special quality. It was a great start to our London Jazz Festival.

The post Denys Baptiste first appeared on UK Jazz News.

It’s not a new band though. Aficionados would have instantly recognised These Foolish Times from Perfect Houseplants first album, released over 30 years ago. Huw Warren’s fluency at the piano is undiminished, his soaring runs and shapely lyricism transporting. They’d started the set with two tunes from Snap Clatter, their first album on Linn Records in the mid 90s. Mark Lockheart’s tenor, tracing out the melody of New Day, was like the warm embrace of an old friend. The elegiac melody that could almost be a hymn segued into Rag with another swirling riff, this one like a cossack dance with a beat missing. It was high energy and galloped along.

The Houseplant’s seamless blend of styles and ideas from folk, classical, latin, jazz and more sounds both perfectly natural, but wholly distinctive. It was a rare opportunity to see them perform live since they stopped recording in the early 2000s.  The occasion was both celebratory and poignant.  Ian Storrer, who has curated a season of gigs celebrating the 40 years he’s been promoting jazz in Bristol, sought out the band as they had been influential favourites in the 90s. With drummer Martin France’s death a couple of months before the gig, it also became a salute and celebration of the drummer’s music making. France was an integral part of the development of the band’s sound.

Dense, jigsaw-like arrangements with contrasting sections and interlocking parts conjured a beguiling complexity. Dudley Phillips’ bass was as often playing a singing melody line as anchoring with a bass line, and Tim Giles in the drum chair was colouring around and catching every accent and zig-zagging rhythm.  The detailed writing evoked shifting moods and intricate tapestries in sound. Was it fanciful to hear an echo Debussy’s Sunken Cathedral in Dunwich and the Sea?”,  Dudley Phillips’ homage to the now immersed town. It was a compelling, affecting moment before the twinkle-in-the-eye swirl of the wonky tango Salvador, then the hectic swirling clatter of Strictly for Dancing (surely written before the title could be a riff on a TV show) Lockheart’s soprano soaring and floating, brought the set to a dramatic conclusion.  The just-one-more tune, a heart-felt, folk inflected melody over shifting harmony ballad followed and was the perfect reflective note on which to end.

This was a thrilling evening and the inclusion of some new tunes from the pen of Dudley Phillips hinted that there may be more in the future from the still Perfect Houseplants, let’s hope so.

The post Perfect Houseplants first appeared on UK Jazz News.

‘Give me 50’ has Martin France guesting on drums and the visceral mounting excitement and energy owes much to his dazzling skein of rhythm wrapped around Argüelles’ lines.  They’re at it again on Superspreader, the theme this time comprising of jagged phrases, with Argüellian twisting, turns of phrases scattered over a hectic carpet of percussion and drums provided by France. The musical relationship between these two goes back nearly 40 years and, with France’s sadly-too-soon, recent death, the recording poignantly now serves as a fitting testament to the vivacity and instinctiveness of their work together.

There are varying moods across the 12 pieces. Pale Blue Dot conjures a dreamy air, with languid phrases drifting over gradually shifting, hooting motifs. Biafra has chanting, intertwined calls from saxophones over infectious polyrhythms laid down this time by Helge Andreas Norbakken. Hippopotamus is another shuffling groover, drums courtesy of Julian’s brother Steve Argüelles, and Murmuration finds two saxophones swirling and dancing around each other before settling on a simple jig.

It would be easy not to notice that this is an album produced and performed in the studio entirely by Argüelles apart from his three guests. There’s a fluid and spontaneous feel to all the music, so characteristic of all his writing and playing. Nevertheless, pay attention and the layers of horns and repeating sections are all him. He’s no stranger to this way of creating music. An album Scapes, originally released in the 90s and more recently re-released by Editions, similarly comprised solely Argüelles’ saxophones.

Talking about how the album was made and the possibilities provided by technology, Argüelles speaks of his desire not to make its use too obvious, and to make an album that  ‘appeals on its own merit’.  If by that he meant putting the playing and compositions in the foreground, then he’s succeeded in spades.  This is an absorbing, joyful and uplifting set, par for the course for one of the scene’s most consistently creative and emotionally compelling musicians.

Mike Collins is a pianist and writer based in Bristol, who runs the jazzyblogman site

The post Julian Argüelles – ‘Doublespeak’ first appeared on UK Jazz News.

“Cycle” sounds like its name. A flurry of overlapping arpeggios from the piano launch the piece, threaded through with fluid broken lines from the bass. The tightly woven patterns become subtly different with repetition and gradually break up, piano and bass seeming to float around each other, jostled by hissing cross-rhythms from Vespestad’s cymbals. It’s an exhilarating start.

Just when you might think you know what’s coming next, “Fantasmes” is an explicitly melodic, hymn-like theme with a foreboding, marching groove. Haberkamp thickens the harmony and reels out edgy, emotionally fraught lines. “Plateaux” is a little jewel, starting with more flurries of crystalline patterns before a more explicit solo exploration from the piano, ranging freely amongst an even-quavered, rocking pulse. “On A Park Bench” is an atmospheric exploration by the trio, the loose assemblage creating a meditative ambience with a shimmering melodic air.

A delight of this session is that it keeps springing surprises. If it’s a tapestry, then another colourful strand appears with “Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt”. On first hearing, I was checking to see which American Song-Book standard Haberkamp’s intro was deconstructing; not Tin Pan Alley standard, it turns out, but a song from the 30s associated with Marlene Dietrich, the theme beautifully rendered by Portratz. A flowing waltz unfolds, with Haberkamp really stretching and reshaping the harmony. The song theme, interspersed with more originals, continues as the band tumble through and pull at Gordon Lightfoot’s 70s hit “If You Could Read My Mind”, giving it a tingling emotional charge. Then Haberkamp sings, accompanying herself, the harmony and embellishments moving as freely and spontaneously as her piercing reading of “Danny Boy”.

Potratz’s bass is as often in the foreground as the piano throughout this absorbing set, and Vespestad is continually inventive, bringing colour, shape and momentum. Plateaux is a tour de force.

Mike Collins is a pianist and writer based in Bristol, who runs the jazzyblogman site. / Twitter: @jazzyblogman

The post Clara Haberkamp Trio – ‘Plateaux’ first appeared on UK Jazz News.

The Chilean-born tenor player has established herself firmly on the international stage since winning the Thelonious Monk competition in 2013. Her musical imagination and the ensemble she’s working with have now, on this showing, evolved into something remarkable and distinctive.

The title track, ‘Echoes of the Inner Prophet’ (with which the album opens), lasts under three minutes. Aldana’s keening, emotional tenor slides through an evocative arc, slowly unfurling a melody. There’s no solo as such, but the band comprised of Lage Lund on guitar, Fabian Almazan on piano, Pablo Menares on bass and Kush Abadey on drums, paint textures and introduce rhythmic gestures so that by the end, the piece feels like a spontaneously developed, fully formed meditation.

This thoughtful air pervades the album, but there’s plenty of energy and momentum. There’s an organic flow between the group and their solos, that feels like someone taking the lead in a conversation as ideas are developed together. Six of the eight pieces are penned by Aldana, with Menares and Lund contributing one each. ‘Unconscious Whispers’ moves through different rhythmic motifs under ear-tweaking melodic phrases. Almazan takes the ideas to new and unexpected places with dense, abstract rhapsodic flourishes. The wonky groove of ‘A Story’ sounds like a disrupted tango, with Lage taking over from another attractive and engaging Aldana theme. Menares’ ‘Ritual’ is a ballad, given elegant movement by Abadey’s propulsive brushes. The melody is carried by Aldana’s sighing phrases, evoking an elegiac atmosphere. Lund’s jaunty ‘I know You Know’ evolves into a swirling exuberant ride to close the set.

Aldana’s singular voice is at the heart of the sound. Phrases flow, bend through microtones and melt into whispers, her sinuous lines weaving through the textures conjured by the band. Lund and Almazan both use subtle electronics, so that their sounds flex and expand in sympathy. 

This album is a thoroughly absorbing and frequently emotionally affecting set, with the sense of being welcomed into an intimate and intense conversation that has plenty of playful and optimistic currents. It’s a recording to return to again and again.

Mike Collins is a pianist and writer based in Bristol. He runs the jazzyblogman

The post Melissa Aldana – ‘Echoes of the Inner Prophet’ first appeared on UK Jazz News.

Equal Spirits’ name captures something of the essence of the album. The initiative of English composer and trombonist Raph Clarkson, Wise and Waiting is the result of an expansive collaboration that developed after a visit to South Africa with a sackful of compositions and his ‘bone.  Recorded between two continents with close to two dozen musician credits, the core of whom are South African, the result is a rich palette of sounds, textures and moods with an unmistakable flavour and groove at its centre. Distilling the complex, many-layered pieces for a live performance was an appetising and intriguing prospect.

The gig wove an absorbing path, playing some of the music, diving into influences that led Clarkson on the musical journey, and inviting a healthy dose of audience participation. All this with a group necessarily shorn of the South African musicians, given the challenges of visas and travel.  Joining Clarkson on the gig were Xolani Mbatha on vocal duties,  Phil Merriman on keyboards, Yuval Wetzler on drums, Chris Batchelor  on trumpet, and Riaan Vosloo on the bass.

After a fizzing piano solo from Merriman on Back Again and an improvised outro with muttering textures from the horns and electronic skronk from the keyboard, Clarkson began an educative tour, laced through the set between numbers from the album, of some of the sources of inspiration that had drawn him to the music and some of the icons of the South African canon.  Next up was a take on Bheki Mseleku’s Monwabisi infused with an urgent shuffle by Wetzler’s drums and additional lyrics. Then Umbomela, widely sung including by Miriam Mkeba, a traditional song with a refrain that, coached by Clarkson, contributed the by now dancing in their seats and grinning audience. The band followed up with a resonant, soaring version of Hymn from the album, that segued into a piece, replete with spoken word and group improv by Keith Tippett, another Clarkson inspiration and artist who worked with South African exiles. The set leaned more heavily on the repertoire from the album as it went on, exploring the range of styles; moody textural moments, more spoken word, anthemic spiritual chants and some roaring grooves.

It was remarkable, uplifting evening, celebrating the fertile soil from which Equal Spirit’s sound has grown, as well as the new material, all steered and orchestrated by Clarkson. They signed off with another well-loved gem from the canon, Abdullah Ibrahim’s Mandela, and we danced out of the door with lighter hearts.

The post Equal Spirits, ‘Wise and Waiting’ album launch in Bristol first appeared on UK Jazz News.

Simeon May’s saxophone study is an arresting start immediately followed by the insistent riff of Illusion, rhythmically off-kilter and propulsive. The theme of sinuous hooks, punctuated by scampering fills from Cody Moss on piano and Harry Pearce on bass, gives way to expansive soloing with Klimiuk rocking out as the band builds to a climax. Absence of Colour has a contrasting atmosphere, a slow progression with an angular melodic line, nudged along by Adam Merrell’s drums.

There’s a satisfying arc to the solos and May leads the band to a keening, tumultuous conclusion. Casio is a Brazilian-flavoured piece with a pleasing theme and some reflective turns in the soloing. Mark Lockheart features on Sceptical, an evocative, melancholic piece introduced with an impressionistic exploration between guitar and Lockheart’s sax, before the band build a carefully composed tapestry to launch a searching solo from Lockheart. Dualism is a slowly unfolding ballad, the band making patient use of space and silence, Wait has a looser, freewheeling feel, with a Moss’s piano solo showcasing the group’s capacity to listen, move as unit and gather momentum as ideas develop. Distance starts with a meditative air and then twists, turns and evolves into an urgent clamour before finally subsiding.

This is a thoroughly absorbing set. Klimiuk’s writes extended, carefully constructed pieces, often with intricate detail, that conjure distinct and varying moods and provide a platform for imaginative development from the ensemble. The band have thoroughly digested the material and play with a freedom and energy that bring the pieces to vivid life.

(un)balanced is released today 1 May and the launch is at the Vortex tonight / Ticket link below

Mike Collins is a pianist and writer based in Bristol, who runs the jazzyblogman site

The post Jakub Klimiuk Quintet – ‘(un)balanced’ first appeared on UK Jazz News.

The simple, slow moving melody of Elevation seemed to drift up through the rich-with-a-bitter-edge layer of harmony woven by Rita Marcotulli’s introduction on the piano. As the tune developed, a fluttering fill from the bass of Michel Benita was picked up and completed by the tenor; atmospheric flurries of notes from Sheppard were anticipated by complementary, rippling phrases from the piano. It was a spellbinding start.

The trio had moved seamlessly through two more tunes before we heard from the leader. The bass brought in the dark brooding swirl of Salgado. A dancing pulse and urgent, propulsive figures had an Iberian flavour to them. Then a steady piano vamp introduced Encantos. The attractive melody and satisfying harmonic shifts brought Bacharach to mind momentarily. Melodic lines doubled between bass and piano left hand, between piano and sax, all served to evoke a big, spacious sound. An exploratory solo from Marcotulli, bending the harmony again injected tension into the sound.

By his own account, Sheppard conceived the idea for this trio as a way of continuing the type of setting he’d experienced through a thirty-year association with Carl Bley and Steve Swallow, a drumless lineup with the piano as a foil. The material, mainly written during the lockdowns is quintessential Sheppard. The underlying structures and melodies are grounded in simple folky tunes and hymn like elegies but threaded through with subtle complexities of rhythm and form.  In the performance, there’s a stillness and serenity at the core, even in some of the more frenetic, dancing pieces,  that requires a special chemistry between the players.

Benita was introduced, with wry humour, as the third bass player to have joined the trio, this being only his second outing with them, as he dove into an extended introduction to I Draw You In The Stars another evocative, balladic piece. To this listener’s ears, the chemistry is at work between these three.  They are long term collaborators in a variety of combinations and Sheppard’s writing gives them space to work together here and weave a spell. They launched into the finale, Salt Catchers, a swirling, cavorting piece, tenor and piano chasing headlong over a bristling pulse to bring the set to an exuberant close and a tumultuous response from the now captivated audience.

During an engaging ‘in conversation’ session after the gig, Sheppard recounted meeting Manfred Eicher who had declared him ready to record with ECM.  The result has been a string of recordings with the iconic label.  On the evidence of the set in Bristol, this current line-up of the trio is cooking nicely and if it’s ready soon, a recording of this band will be a treat to savour.

The post Andy Sheppard Trio at the 2024 Bristol Jazz Festival first appeared on UK Jazz News.