Going Underground??

The Jam’s “Going Underground” came out in 1980, in April the St.Pauls riot in Bristol was a harbinger of things to come, the following year it would be Brixton, Handsworth, Toxteth, Moss Side and Chapeltown.  Margaret Thatcher had come to power the previous year, I was in the first year of my A-levels. I still remember the feeling, walking home from school the day after the election, knowing somehow that the world was changing irrevocably as the Iron Lady came to power; even through that teenage fog of confusion and ignorance I could sense the seismic shift. Though I suppose it’s easy to look back and impart significance retrospectively, over the ensuing years I’ve come to recognise that shift as being what I glibly call “ the legitimisation of greed”.  It seems that Thatcher’s beloved “Victorian values” were really nothing but a masquerade of moral propriety, what the shopkeeper’s daughter really represented was the get ahead at any cost politics of the free market, she sacrificed the last vestiges of paternalism and fair play that had always been been a part of the Conservatives, and replaced it with bloody minded acquisitiveness. She may have been a libertarian in some ways, but mainly she was a moral authoritarian and her vengeance towards the working-class, the unions, immigrant cultures and the left in general was unmitigated. We could be free to contribute to the market, but not to resist it or challenge its authority. So the riots were testimony to the fact that as far as vast swathes of the population were concerned, we were at war. 

So “Going Undergorund” heralded the dawn of the eighties and it’s funny seeing today’s youth reviving stylistic tropes in fashion and music from that decade and seemingly reducing it to a melange of batwing sleeves and electro-pop. “I love the eighties”. Why? Because of Madonna, George Michael, and Duran Duran? Indeed,the pop culture of the early eighties seemed to get in step with the change in the political climate, it was the golden age of MTV, there was a new “flash” kind of cool, designer clothes and fast cars were the emblems of those reaping material gain from a Britain emerging from economic depression. “Her name is Rio” sang Simon Lebon as a tribe of young estate agents in Armani jackets piled out of wine bars into their XR3s and GTis; that was the mainstream of the eighties, a scene played out in every provincial town across Britain and there was nothing remotely cool about it, it was intensely ordinary, the culture of the unquestioning majority being swept along by the tide. The flipside to all of this was the eighties I knew and lived, a magical, rebellious, and creative era, the last gasp of counterculture, the last chance to go underground before we became one nation under cctv.

Like any great song, I’m sure the lyric of “Going Underground” means many things to many people, especially as despite it’s sniping at obvious targets there is an ambiguity about it. Whatever Weller’s intended meaning the essence is obvious, it’s a bitter outpouring of defiance that, as angry as it is, remains an uplifting ride from start to finish. Perhaps that’s one of Weller’s greatest gifts, he’s always been good at the sugar coated pill, some sweet harmonic twists behind a vitriolic lyric; he pulled off the same trick with “That’s Entertainment”. Of course there was nothing unusual in such politically engaged pop music back then, writers like Weller and Elvis Costello had emerged from sloganeering of punk as fully fledged poets of resistance. The point being that whatever Weller was really saying, those words, that notion, “Going Underground” actually meant something then. Although Thatcher was doing her utmost to impose the clampdown, in society’s margins, radicalism, protest, alternative lifestyles, creativity, experimentation, were all alive and kicking, and there were still ideological battle lines to stand behind, before it all got consumed by the new consumer age. We had that idealism, we still thought it was still possible to fight for a better, fairer more peaceful future and those that wanted to “go underground” could; full student grants, housing benefit, signing on, squatting, the possibilities were endless for the young rebel. If you didn’t "want what this society’s got", you could build your own, or at least survive in it’s margins and dream of a better one. 

By 1983 half-way through my thoroughly lefty humanities degree (it’s actually in History Of Ideas, but that means even less to most people), I was a squatter myself, ensconced in the unbridled bleak bohemia of SW8, and it struck me then in the enclave of terraces that had become home to a disparate bunch of “alternative” people, that we were like a lost tribe in exile, condemned to an uncertain future. In those days the mean streets of South London were awash with heroin, and for many looking at the growing gloom of Thatcherite Britain, the opiated escape route was a strong pull. London was still a pretty bleak place back then, nobody wanted to live in Shoreditch, and Notting Hill was still a bohemian village, but everywhere was kind of scuzzy! However there was a certain glory to those days, and the spirit of the London warehouse parties of the early and mid eighties represented a kind of “utopian” underground scene for many of us, “one nation under a groove”, social and racial divisions dissolving with the sweat of the (usually concrete) dance-floor. Many parties came off in the semi-abandoned industrial sites around what is now London’s trendiest hub, Old St and Shoreditch, but I also remember parties in Shelton St in the heart of Covent Garden, pretty unimaginable now. - Rose tinted spectacles on maybe, but there was a sense of excitement that went beyond the usual joys of hedonistic youth. A sense that we were a part of something unique, a sense of the changing times and what it all meant. Even though our sense of doom in the eighties was more concerned with the danger of nuclear annihilation, there was also a sense of how the politics and policies of the Reagan-Thatcher axis were set to destroy much of what we cherished. The counter culture as such, and all the various subcultural streams that fed into it was going to put up a fight, a fight that would eventually be lost, but not without some victories along the way. Thatcher was an imperialist xenophobe who appealed to the concerns of middle England, but the world was changing and for the younger generations it was time to unify and embrace our different cultural roots to create new identities. We were just emerging from some of the most racially tense times in British history, the riots of ‘81 and ‘82 had proved that much, and the extreme right wing was still very much in evidence,however resistance was active and vocal. Punk had spawned the Anti-Nazi League and Rock Against Racism, in racial politics at least it was time to turn a corner. As the inner cities burned in ’81, The Specials “Ghost Town” was at number 1 in the pop chart, it felt like there was hope when a mixed race band could have a hit with a savage critique of Thatcher’s Britain.  However it was the warehouse parties where Hackney really did meet Hampstead, black and white alike getting down just for the funk of it, it was the prequel to the much bigger revolution that would mark the end of the decade when House music and ecstasy took raving to another level. 

In London at least, it felt like Thatcher really had some opposition, with "Red Ken" taking the reins at the GLC and sponsoring music festivals with eclectic line-ups of post-punk, reggae and African bands. In '83 there was a series of Peace festivals, Paul Weller’s Style Council played at least one of those I seem to recall, Weller had always been prepared to stand up and be counted, even getting involved with the Labour party’s somewhat ill-fated Red Wedge initiative Those were the days when culture was something that you generally consumed collectively, for instance if you wanted to see cult movies you’d probably be at one of London’s all-night cinemas like the Scala in King’s Cross, these shared experience’s fed into a sense both of belonging and empowerment. Yet as time passed it increasingly seemed like the broadly left politics of the counter culture were fighting a losing battle, perhaps by the middle of the decade there was a sense that the battle had been lost. Whatever one thought of the so-called New Age Travellers who were increasingly hounded by the Police, the Battle Of The Beanfield in 1985 was symbolic of Thatcher’s attitude to any “alternative” society. It was a crusade against dissent and resistance that wrapped itself in a dubious moral rhetoric and exercised it’s power with an authoritarian frenzy. As had been the case with the Miner’s strike and the Wapping printers dispute the state’s use of physical control and aggression as wielded by the Police was forewarning of the imminent lockdown. There’s no dispute about this, our civil liberties have been eroded on an unprecedented scale since Thatcher came to power, a project that was taken to even greater extremes by the Blair government. “Things can only get better”, yeah right!

So “Going Underground” has always stayed with me, even as my tastes crystallised around Soul, Jazz and Latin musics, I’m of the generation that was touched by the spirit of punk and the political engagement of the counter culture, and “Going Underground” embodies so much of that zeitgeist. However by the the early nineties my love affair with Brazilian music was in full throe, and one day whilst listening to Olodum  I suddenly started to hear how “Going Underground” could work on that kind of samba-reggae groove. It became an idea I would often jokingly suggest to my collaborator in chief Chris Franck though it took twenty years for him to take it seriously!

At the end of 2012, to announce our comeback, and as a kind of statement of intent, myself and Chris aka Da Lata released our take on Paul Weller’s classic, with the street savvy South London soul of Floetic Lara handling the vocals. Did it make any sense to cover “Going Underground”? As much as it was personal to me, I also thought it was timely. Although the lyrics reference things that were going on back then, (the nuclear issue etc. not that it’s gone away), the general sense of outrage, “the I don’t want what this society’s got” still had so much resonance, though with a large dose of irony. Nobody writes protest pop anymore, perhaps the targets are too big, and the sense of futility too great as the world lurches ever onwards towards economic meltdown and environmental catastrophe.  We’re all suffering from outrage fatigue if we care at all. So it felt entirely relevant to invoke the spirit of a time when it was still cool to give a damn. For those of us who misspent our youth in the eighties the situation today looks bleak, the economic and societal conditions that gave lease to our counter culture have disappeared. Gone are the days when a boy from Woking can form a band with his mates and take the world to task with songs that speak to ordinary lives about the reality of the world we’re trying to share. The current crop of public school bands wouldn’t even know how to begin writing those kind of songs, and the X- Factor generation aren’t even vaguely interested in “going underground”, the mainstream is their destination. Today success, celebrity and rampant materialism are seen as far more worthy goals than resisting the status quo. How much more austerity will it take to turn that around?

I remember watching the Olympics opening ceremony in 2012, trying to engage with the story that Danny Boyle was seeming to tell, the story of a “people’s Britain”,  but I couldn’t help thinking about the twisted irony of it all. This was the most corporate commercially driven Olympics in history, and it felt to me like the whole Boyle show was a massive subterfuge, creating the illusion of a people’s games, getting everyone on board and blinding us to the darker side of what was really going on. Hearing “Going Underground” in a medley celebrating the glorious legacy of our pop culture was a bitter pill to swallow. Here we were in 2012 after successive governments have eroded our civil liberties, clamped down on the margins of society and got us all under surveillance and we’re listening to “I’m going underground”, wherever Weller thought he was headed, it’s not on the map anymore.

Reflections On Gil

1983, the unlikely venue is Kensington's Commonwealth Institute, that uneasy monument to Britain's colonial past playing host to a Black American whose father played football for Celtic. The Midnight Band are late on stage, and a sweet herbal scent wafts from the stage entrance. Eventually they amble on relaxed and smiling, and then bam! In their pomp they were as elastic and fluid across jazz, funk and latin ryhthms as any to have graced a stage. That beautiful tension between lyrical groove and visceral power was a reflection of their leader's personality, as amenable, charming, and good humoured as he could be, Gil Scott Heron never failed to pack a punch. That night we were treated, blessed, exalted by an artist at the very top of his game backed by musicians who were similarly on top of theirs, it's a performance that lingers in my mind, a benchmark of all the things great music can be.

It's not just immense sadness I feel at the passing of Gil Scott Heron but an awareness of the huge chasm that's left from his departure, a void that can never be filled. His honeyed baritone and acerbic lyrics took us on a journey into the dark heart of America with insight, humour and compassion, his music will live on, but for the moment it can only serve as a reminder of our great loss. Somehow a world without Gil feels like an empty place.

When Gil returned to recording with " I'm New Here" last year I was hoping that one of our most important voices would be with us for years to come to grace us with his wit and wisdom through his dotage, his demons laid to rest. However after years of drug abuse and apparently HIV positive, Gil was doomed to make an early exit. It always seemed like a particularly painful irony that the man who wrote "The Bottle" and "Home Is Where The Hatred Is" was battling with such darkness. Yet no matter what, it was alright, Gil was out there somewhere, even during his twilight years, even through imprisonment, I could never give up on him. That he became a victim of the very kind of blight he railed against in those songs didn't make him a hypocrite, it somehow made his humanity seem even greater, especially when you listen to how humbly and honestly he documents his inner struggles on those last recordings. The truth is that Scott Heron's music was always an invocation of empowerment and engagement, and the bold optimism of "It's Your World " was as much the essence of his message as his angrier political pieces. That drugs stifled his political insight and commentary, and repressed his joyous spirit represents further testimony to the fact that America usually finds a way of killing it's detractors, somehow!

Perhaps one anecdote I remember hearing a sums up the tragedy of Gil Scott Heron. The band had been booked for a gig but had turned up on the date minus their leader who had obviously gone AWOL on a another binge, without Gil the gig was obviously cancelled. However the man himself showed up a couple of days later, somewhat batttered, but still keen to perform. With just a trusty Fender Rhodes to accompany himself, Scott Heron played for six hours that night, reaching a truly transcendent moment as he sang his beautiful " Beginnings (First Minute Of A New Day)" as the first rays peeped through the blinds. Despite everything his abilities as a performer remained undiminished, his spirit, the music and the message always coming through. Even from the depths of his own darkness Gil could shine a light with words and music, delivered by that voice which even after being ravished by the crack pipe could still weave it's magic.

Even though his career was curtailed by his problems, Gil Scott Heron's recorded legacy is just so immense, hopefully in years to come his contribution will be truly recognised. It's so glib to cite him as " the godfather of rap" and focus on " The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" as the epitomy of his oeuvre. Yes, along with the Last Poets, Gil created the blueprint. However it's the way in which Scott Heron's work effortlessly weaves together different strands of black music with political nous and savage insight that makes him such a unique and important artist. At the time when Gil was "discovered" by the legendary Bob Thiele at the dawn of the seventies, the black music scene was in transition, Miles was going electric and the funk of James Brown and Sly Stone was beginning to dominate, the political mood was still reeling from the riots and assassinations that had sounded the death knell of sixties optimism. The young Scott Heron , a literature major with natural musicality and an unusual background was well equipped to make his mark.

Following the release of his first poetry and percussion album "Small Talk At 125th And Lenox" on Thiele's Flying Dutchman label Gil and his creative partner, pianist Brian Jackson, were due to record for the Coltrane producer again. The story goes that they were totally freaked out when their request for Bernard Purdie and Ron Carter as their rhythm section was met by Thiele for the sessions that would become their first proper album, 1971's "Pieces Of A Man". With Thiele producing, and arranger/conductor Johnny Pate (Shaft In Africa) only credited as conductor but presumably having some hand in the arrangements and production, it's not surprising that this set came together so brilliantly. I get the impression that the canny Thiele did everything to ensure that the material would be given every chance to shine, so with Purdie's impeccable back-beats and shuffles underpinning proceedings, Carter's sinuous bass lines weaving and prodding and Hubert Laws adding beautiful embellishment around Gil's voice it's a delight from start to finish. Considering how young Gil was, the writing is incredibly mature, ( he always sounded older and wiser!), with some stone cold classics in the shape of "Lady Day And John Coltrane", "Home Is Where The Hatred Is", " Pieces Of A Man" "I Think I'll Call It Morning" and my personal favourite " The Needles Eye", not forgetting the quintessential version of "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised". What a mission statement! It seems slightly weird to say that this album represents a watershed in the evolution of black music, Gil was not the only artist seeking to create a homogeneous blend of jazz and soul underpinned by the new funk, however nobody else was doing it as naturally or had as much to say. He was the right man at the right time, with "Pieces Of A Man" Scott Heron had created a record which would remain deeply significant. As his career developed through the seventies he was able to further broaden his canvas both musically and lyrically with Brian Jackson and the first incarnation of his Midnight Band. However their self produced albums tend to sound a little flat compared to the crisp simplicity of "Pieces". Though the catchy funk of "Johannesburg" helped to keep his career buoyant in 75, this period is best captured on the great live set "It's Your World" from the following year, with it's inspirational title track and extended work-outs on "The Bottle" and "Home Is Where The Hatred Is" with afro-latin percussion now an impressive feature.However Scott Heron's recording career was to receive another boost, by hooking up with Malcom Cecil, the English producer and engineer who (with Robert Magaloueff) had nurtured and sonically sculpted Stevie's greatest work. First turning up as engineer and programmer on 77's "Bridges",with Cecil, Gil would have another collaborator on board capable of helping him deliver the recordings at the highest level. From 78's "Secrets" through to Gil's last album for Arista 82's Moving Target, Cecil ensured a sonic excellence and classy production. On "Secrets" Cecil uses the same blend of synth bass and live drums that had worked so well with Stevie, reminiscent of Innervisions' "Jesus Children Of America", " Angola Louisiana" features Harvey Mason on drums and the kind of wonderful squelchy rolling synth bass that Cecil is the unparalleled master of. Genius. On the later albums Cecil concentrates on capturing the group sound, the later incarnation of The Midnight Band now prominently featuring Robert Gordon's popping slapped Alembic bass, and anchored by the lilting groove of Kenny Powell's drums. A great rhythm section that Cecil records beautifully! The greatest example of this, and in my opinion the last great album Gil made is 81's "Reflections", a record I fell in love with and played incessantly on it's release.

Opening with Gil's reggae tribute "Storm Music", with it's gorgeous harmonica and horn parts, the mood is set perfectly with Gil sounding simultaneously strident and joyous, it's a perfect Scott Heron song which signals from the offset that somehow he's gathered his powers in a more concentrated way, there's an intense focus in the writing and delivery that builds through the album. Next up he takes on Bill Wither's Grandma's Hands and totally makes it his own, Gil's own grandmother had largely brought him up, and the sentiment is truly heartfelt. " Is That Jazz?" follows in the vein of " Lady Day And John Coltrane", another homage to his inspiration and the redemptive power of the music, this time he name checks all the greats!! Side one closes with "Morning Thoughts", opening with the line " the sweet smell of my lady's love", only Gil could make it sound so right! It's another of his morning songs, the tender seam that permeates his work contrasting the stark reality of the more political material. Side two has no such levity, focussing hard on his chosen subject, America, Gil delivers twenty minutes of seering analysis and commentary. Kicking off with the a reappraisal of Marvin's "Inner City Blues", Gil seems to be saying it's ten years on and this shit ain't changed a bit! Delivering his poem "The Siege Of New Orleans", Gil initially extrapolates (brutally and beautifully) on Marvin's theme before dipping into the saga of Mark Essex, a honky hating, cop shooting gunman. Aptly following on comes "Gun", gangsterism, America's paranoid mindset, and the gun culture neatly packed into three minutes of lightly skipping funk! The epic, no pun intended, "B-Movie" closes the album, it's an awesome piece of poetry delivered over Gordon's stuttering angry bass that never relents in it's scathing satire, Reagan dismissed absolutely, America utterly condemned, Gil walking a tightrope between humour and despair.

It sums up Gil Scott Heron the man and his music, it's like a dark chuckle.

The Masa project

I'd always been a fan of Sleepwalker, for me they always stood head and shoulders above the meleé of nu-jazz pretenders, they were a proper band with a unique chemistry, and with Hajime Yoshizawa they had a supreme talent, a gifted pianist and a great composer. In fact as the sole source of material, and musical director in many ways Sleepwalker was Hajime Yoshizawa. Of course I'm biased, they were managed and produced by my friend Shuya Okino and I'd known Hajime and larger than life sax player Masa since their days in Mondo Grosso, and my first dj trips to Japan. However when Sleepwalker dropped their first release the monstrous Ai-No-Kawa, I was genuinely blown away, even more so by their incendiary live performance and the reaction they were getting from young Japanese clubbers. I was lucky enough to have seen Sleepwalker play a number of times, and they never ceased to enthral me, it was just a special balance, Hajime's tunes and passionate piano, Masa's gutsy spiritual saxophone, Nobu's fluid groove behind the kit, so good in fact they had no problem in persuading the legendary Pharoah Sanders to record with them, on a tune that would prove to be their swansong, "The Journey". So when Shuya mentioned the idea of me producing their next album, I naturally relished the the proposal, but I should have known it was a little too good to be true, indeed why would Shuya want to pass on such a great job? Well, all was not sweetness and light inside the Sleepwalker camp, the inevtable fights and wrangles, Hajime and Nobu have deep history that goes back to their early days paying dues and cutting their teeth as jazz musicians in New York, and Hajime and Masa's relationship always had the potential for serious ructions! So Sleepwalker had become too hot to handle for Shuya, and then Sleepwalker were no more.

So the plot changes, and I miss out on my dream gig and the chance to work with Hajime, but in the wake of Sleepwalker's demise Shuya procures a solo deal for Masa, and with their relationship being somewhat strained he asks me to produce. Now, Masa is a maverick, a hard drinking, sax toting rebel whose personality runs thoroughly against the grain in Japan; yet despite his idiosyncrasies and drunken antics, he has presence and charisma, and when he digs deep, the resonance of a life lived on the edge is expressed in playing that is powerful and transcendent. Masa is for real. So it's a big challenge for me, even more so considering the concept for the album that Shuya has concocted. For his debut as a leader Masa will record versions of tunes suggested by various djs and musical luminaries, so Gilles Peterson, Jurgen from Jazzanova, and the one and only Demus have all come up with tunes along with Shuya , his brother and KJM partner Yoshi, and myself.

So let's begin with the tunes. Jazz artists have always borrowed repertoire from their peers and the past, and it's not uncommon for a band leader to not be a composer, but the notion of djs choosing the material is a cute twist on how to make a jazz album. For the producer it has potential to both delight and upset, other peoples selections might be total inspiration or pure desperation. So what did I get? Gilles Peterson came up with Yusef Lateef's "Before Dawn", which I love, but isn't it more of a mood than a tune, and is everybody going to suggest tunes by other sax players? But it's a good choice and a good vehicle for the mellower side of Masa's playing. Jurgen gives us Paulo Moura's "Nem Precisou Mais Um Sol" which immediately takes me back to the dancers sessions at Dingwalls, it's a full blooded, high tempo, latin fusion piece with an amazing horn line that reminds me of a spaghetti western! Demus (from Two Banks Of Four and producer/engineer of tremendous pedigree) proposes Julius Hemphill's "The Hard Blues" which I'm not familiar with but turns out to be a free-ish blues in 6/8, or an amazing saxophone quartet work-out depending on which version you check. (Funnily enough whilst I was working on the album in Tokyo I went to see the Brand New Heavies, backstage after the show I was talking to Finn Peters who was in the horn section and it transpires that he turned Demus on to "The Hard Blues" whilst they were working on Finn's beautiful "Butterflies" album, thanks Finn!) . Yoshi's selection is the title track from an eminently collectable, independently released album by Jothan Collins "Winds Of Change", it's a 6/8 vibe but a little crazy, but there again so is Masa, whilst his brother comes up with the totally appropriate but nonetheless daunting prospect of recording a version of Albert Ayler's monumental "Music Is The Healing Force Of The Universe", thanks Shuya! I decide to choose Lesette Wilson's "Look Into Tomorrow" for the simple reasons that at least it's not by a sax player, and I want there to be a couple of vocal tunes on the record. For the final selection we cheat a bit, and agree the brothers should have another choice collectively as KJM, so I decide we'll do Shamek Farrah's "Waiting For Marvin"!!

The next hurdle was deciding on the line-up, Masa had already expressed his desire to continue working with Nobu and Kyoshi on drums and bass so there will be some continuity with Sleepwalker. The next crucial choice was pianist, however it was a bit of a no-brainer, Shota Hishiyama had already deputised for Hajime on Sleepwalker dates, and was a player I'd heard and admired both with Sleepwalker and in the KJM live band. Even better his Stateside jazz schooling meant he spoke great English which was essential for me unless the whole process was going to be conducted in tortuous pidgen English and my extremely scant Japanese. So we started rehearsing (in The Room Shuya's pocket-sized club in the heart of Shibuya) with this quartet at the tail end of last year. The first rehearsal I remember as being encouraging but I was plagued with the feeling that it all sounded a bit like Sleepwalker but with something obviously missing, ie. Hajime. Some of the tunes were fairly straightforward and whilst I was keen to put some original twists into the arrangements I didn't want to stray too far from the source. So "Waiting For Marvin" and "Nem Precisou Mais Um Sol" fell into this category, "Look Into Tomorrow" I'd imagined from the start as being a jazz-bossa treatment of the slow boogie/ jazz-funk of the original; "The Hard Blues","Before Dawn" and "Winds Of Change" all posed greater problems, and "Music Is The Healing Force Of the Universe" I didn't even want to think about!

Before I go any further I'd like to point out that any challenges the project presented were thoroughly relished by myself, being stuck in a room (The Room!) with some fine jazz players with a remit to make music is my idea of heaven. I felt lucky and privileged to have the opportunity to work on the album and even though there were some tricky issues to negotiate I was hardly stuck for ideas.

After a couple of rehearsals it became obvious that what was needed was to augment the quartet with at least one more horn, along with percussion which would take the sound away from the inevitable Sleepwalker comparisons. Without having to look beyond the coterie of musicians that orbit around Shuya's scene in Tokyo, I was able to recruit Takao Hirose on trombone, who's demos with his own band had been impressive as had been his enthusiasm on the dance-floor whenever I played at The Room. Finally to complete the sextet percussionist Hiderow is not only one of the best in Japan he also plays some fine trumpet. From the first rehearsal with the extended line-up it all started to make sense, in fact it started to sound really exciting.

So with all the pieces in place it was time to make sense of the arrangements, and with invaluable assistance from Shota and his interpreting skills we started to nail the material. Leaving aside the two vocal tunes we aimed at rehearsing the other five to a sufficient standard in order to record them in a single session at Studio Dedé in Tokyo. Our version of "Nem Precisou Mais Um Sol" sticks fairly closely to Paulo Moura's original apart from the the last part of "the head" which we shifted until after the first solo to act as a bridge and we inserted a percussion break for a bit jazz-dance fizz. Similarly "Waiting For Marvin" is built around it's joyful horn lines and bright chord changes, and with the potential to voice sax, bone and trumpet there was no point in messing around with it too much, though the groove on our version leans more towards a samba swing. However I was conscious of Masa's passion for "free" jazz, and saw that with "Waiting For Marvin" I could create some space for him to blow without harmonic constraint, so our version begins with a conga/ sax dialogue which resolves into a big spread chord crashing down from which the theme emerges, Masa's solo rolls out with piano and bass dropping out leaving him to free up over just the drums before reprising the intro's sax/conga thing. With "The Hard Blues" my basic idea was to take the tune in a kind of Afro 6/8 direction, and the theme really started to make sense in that way with Hidero's Chekere laying the foundation, we also took the liberty of adding a little more harmonic structure behind the trombone solo, before the whole things breaks into a 4/4 afro-beat(ish) work-out behind Masa's tenor (thanks Shota for that nugget of inspiration) returning to 6/8 for the head/outro. As I mentioned Yusef Lateef's "Before Dawn" is big on mood and atmosphere and whilst there is a theme, like "The Hard Blues" there's no chord changes or harmonic structure to work with. After trying a few different vibes rhythmically we eventually settled on taking the piece deeper, slower and even moodier, Hirose came up with some great trombone textures and Shota was very much in hi element with the Rhodes adding colour and but staying spacey. Having established the order of solos there was no need to over-rehearse a piece that was best left open ended, as every performance seemed to yield a it's own special magic. Jothan Collins "Winds Of Change" is a fairly aggressive sounding tune in 6/8 with a heavy militant feel, however I wanted there to be a prettier, more rolling waltz-time tune on the album which was never going to be wrought from the Collins tune. All the players thought I was mad and were fairly baffled when I tried explain that I wanted to insert part of Oliver Nelson's "Patterns" into "Winds Of Change", much to everyone's surprise, my own included, the ploy really came off, and a new tune was born of the two that had all the elements needed to create the kind of 6/8 swing and harmonic lushness I was looking for. So, five tunes which came together in rehearsal and we recorded in one fairly manic, but enjoyable day at Studio Dedé, a great space with a suitable collection of analogue gear, vintage mics etc.

So having recorded these five tunes back in February there was a long hiatus before getting round to the two vocal tunes, eventually these came together over a few crazy days at the beginning of July, after a period when it seemed like it was never going to happen. The story behind the vocal tracks goes way back to conversations I had with Shuya at the beginning, and it was always my opinion that if we were going to do a version of "Music is The Healing Force of the Universe" then it would have to be sung by Bembé Segué, apart from the fact that she'd previously worked with Sleepwalker, there really was no other singer I could imagine taking it on. As for "Look Into Tomorrow", well that was fairly straightforward and though Bembé wasn't necessarily the obvious choice for the tune I thought she'd probably make a great job of that too, and of course it made sense to feature just one guest vocalist. So back in February when we were working on the other tracks I e-mailed Bembé to see if she would be interested, and the reply came back with an emphatic yes, so it became part of the plan to bring her over to Tokyo to record. This plan seemed to work on many levels, Bembé was thrilled with the idea of returning to Tokyo to see old friends, and as far as "Music is..." was concerned it meant that I could wait for us all to be in a rehearsal situation with the added inspirational factor of her musical strength, and somehow our interpretation would emerge organically.(If you get the impression that I was shying away from how to deal with Ayler's epic tune then you'd be completely right!!) However, this plan turned out to be a non-starter, on my return to London in May/June, Bembé proved to be unusually elusive and when I did reach her it turned out that events in her personal life were conspiring against the possibility of her being able to come to Tokyo. To cut a long story short, I had to resort to plan B and find a way to record her vocals in London before returning to Tokyo to finish the tracks with the band, as the studio and rehearsals were already booked, and as is normally the case these days with musicians who have to hustle like crazy for work, it's difficult to get everyone together in the same place at the same time. So with time running preciously short, I eventually managed to organise a session the day before I was due to fly back to Tokyo, and it seemed quite a tall order to be able to prepare two backing tracks for Bembé to sing to and record her in the space of a single session. Still the question of how to deal with "Music is..." remained unsolved though of course over the intervening months some kind of notion of how to approach it had formed in my mind, I knew it wouldn't be as "free" as the original and I wanted the music to have more of a healing vibe in complete contrast to the storming tumult of Ayler's original. But how was I going to create an adequate backing track along those lines? I needed to create a template for the band to work with and something that would give Bembé sufficient inspiration to sing to; step up Mike Patto. The ex Reel People songwriter/main-man has been a close friend and associate in recent years as I've been lending him a hand, (but mainly my ears) as he pieces together the epic of Vanessa Freeman's album. Though it was a somewhat knackered Patto that stepped into the studio that day, he very quickly was able to lay down piano, bass and midi horns that captured the very essence of what I was hoping for, something modal, Trane-ish and epic that worked around the simple pulsing groove we'd laid down earlier, perfect. As far as "Look Into Tomorrow" was concerned, was it really possible that Bembé could record her vocals to a ropey rehearsal version I'd recorded on my i-phone? Well with a bit of editing the answer was yes. When Bembé arrived at the studio that evening, having already done a full day's work in her day-job, she quickly despatched "Look Into Tomorrow" with consummate and professional ease, (though she confessed to me later she'd been nervous about doing the tune), and then we sat down to run through "Music Is.." before recording. As soon as she heard Mike's backing track she was excited, and as she sat next to me on the studio sofa and started to sing all I could do was hold my head (to stop it exploding!), after a few lines I stopped her and said we should record. The resulting twelve minutes in the vocal booth were as awe inspiring and magical as any I've experienced in music, there was Bembé, eyes closed, a woman in her element, singing a lyric she may well have been born to sing.

So I was able to return to Tokyo and finish the record. Suffice to say we had alot of fun recording those two tunes with Bembé's voice despite the inhibitions of having to work with a click, with Shota letting loose on the studio's Steinway and Masa delivering some of his best playing. Having now mixed the album in London the Masa project (M.A.S.A) is ready to roll and all I can say is a massive thank you to everyone involved for making it such an enjoyable and exciting journey.

Peace.

INSPIRATION INFORMATION

It hasn't really sunk in yet, but after thirteen years of sharing the decks with Phil Asher, our partnership at Inspiration Information has drawn to a close. Heavy heart? For sure, but I'm just truly grateful to have had the opportunity to work with such a soulful and inspirational force within the London music scene, it's been thirteen years of the greatest camaraderie, laughs, thrills, spills, plenty highs, a few lows, but mainly great all-consuming passion for the music. There's not even a trace of acrimony in this parting of the ways; rightly so, Phil is committing his energies to his work as an artist and producer and label boss, pushing restless soul ever higher as he continues to delight and astound us with a stream of quality music. During the time I was based in Okinawa and after our session re-located to East Village, Phil took on the entire workload of organisation and promotion, booking djs, arranging flights, flyers etc etc. So I reckon we should all be grateful he'll now have more time to focus on production where his energies are definitely best spent! However I have to extend my deepest gratitude for his endeavours, which allowed me to keep a toe-hold in the London scene on my frequent returns.

Phil's personality was an enormous part of what Inspiration information was about, his humour, his belief, his bonhomie, his gregariousness, his whole musical credo; things that can't be replaced, and Inspiration Information will be very different without him. Perhaps the times I will always cherish hark back to our original days at NHAC, when we started at 8pm ( before we introduced the earlier start, The Ladies 1st team and live acts, and before the smoking ban!!); we'd both arrive early and whilst the club started to fill up there was free reign to play whatever we wanted. Those early sessions not only set the tone for the night ahead, they dug the foundations of what Inspiration Information became. Of course we were there to entertain, but also to educate, sometimes just each other, playing music that had depth, resonance and soul across the genres both old and new. The music that united us was classic boogie and disco, and at the time of it's inception Inspiration Information gave us both the chance to relieve our frustration that we had nowhere to play that sound. Indeed back in those days there was nowhere to hear that music.

However as much as Inspiration Information represented those classic NY and London traditions there was always a twist, with Jazz and Latin broadening the flavours and new music providing a contemporary edge. We were the first club to truly champion the broken beat sound, and Dilla beats and the soulful vanguard were always a big part of what we were about. We were bangin' Amerie's "1 Thing" long, long before it came out, in fact there's a long list of classic tunes that had there first club plays at our session. After the transfer to East Village the musical focus shifted towards the classic repertoire if only for the reason that there was a surfeit of good new music that fitted the bill, and, we were able to book a stream of stellar guests who could all bring a unique interpretation of that classic sound.

Now the session is looking forward to a new era, a fresh start, and a new interpretation of the Inspiration Information concept. Of course the spirit of the session won't be compromised, but the balance of the music will change with a no holds barred approach to music from across the soulful spectrum, from classics to the cutting edge. I'm proud to say that I'll be joining forces with Jimbo, the man behind one of London's most wicked dance nights, Groove Sanctuary. Running for over 10 years at Madame Jo Jo's, it's always been a great session with a healthy representation of serious dancers. However recently the influx of a new generation of young House dancers has added a whole new dimension to the night. As co-resident and promoter Jimbo will be drawing on his experience with Groove Sanctuary to reach out to a new network of dancers, djs, and artists to bring a fresh dimension to Inspiration Information. We'll be giving over the upstairs room at East Village to the next generation, with many different styles and flavours and a few surprises and special features. Downstairs will be hosted by the residents with some serious guests ready to throw down for Inspiration Information.

The new chapter begins on Friday 10th September with an exclusive dj set from Jurgen from Jazzanova, in the upstairs room Renegade and Demi bring a dancing crowd for an 80s/90s Hip Hop selection, and D-Lo hosts a Beat Box battle!

Spontaneous Mellow

So about time too, the first podcast from this website, with a very mellow excursion into the vinyl vault, horizontal,chilled, and just the tonic for the over-stressed. Just prior to my imminent trip back to London, I'm enjoying the Okinawan "young summer' as they call it, 27c today! So maybe that accounts for the mellow selection.

I seem to recall playing the first two tunes back to back on The Cosmic Jam way, way back in the first year or two of my days there, when Kiss FM was still a pirate; Larry Willis with a very nice take on a Bacharach/ David tune, and Eddie Harris' later recording of the tune his good friend Charles Stepney wrote for him. As this was recorded after Stepney passed away I feel it has something of the lament about it. "Peaceful" is the title track from an album by Dick McGarvin I discovered in an Osaka record store last year, the Gabor Szabo track is from "Dreams" abeguilingly beautiful record that is very dear to me. "Wine Dark Lullaby" comes from "Greek Variations" one of those stupidly rare British jazz albums with compositions from Neil Ardley, Don Rendell and in this case Ian Carr. Following this Steve Grossman's "Libra Rising" borrows much of it's form and bass-line from Pharoah's "The Creator Has A Masterplan", a classic Trane disciple, Grossman's blowing is emotive throughout. Cullen Knight's A'keem has a lovely theme and a classic loose," independent" feel to the playing, big thanks to Nick The Record for turning me on to this some time ago. Steve Kuhn's "Trance' does exactly what it should, again a fantastic album with a couple of killer jazz-dance cuts as well as this ethereal masterpiece. "The Peacemaker" is the title track from Harold Land's awesome album for Cadet with Bobby Hutcherson shining through with some lovely vibes, Chico Freeman's "Peaceful Heart, Gentle Spirit" is testament to the fact there was some good jazz made in the eighties! Ahmad Jamal is just a pure genius of the piano, with an amazing string arrangement, "Death And Resurrection" never fails to live up to it's title. Finally Jack McDuff, with a subtly funky version of Trane's "Naima" proves that it's impossible to make a duff (scuse the pun) version of this legendary tune.

http://patrickforge.podomatic.com/entry/2010-03-06T05_22_16-08_00

Free Music!!!

Free music? For many this is the reality they've grown up with, it's only the older generations who still remember the concept of paying for what they listen to, and even some who did previously have embraced file sharing wholeheartedly. Today's reality is one where virtually anything and everything is available to download for nix if you know where to look. From sneakily uploaded tracks of yet to be released material from major artists to the most obscure of rare and collectable old gems, it's all out there.

I recently had a conversation with someone who proudly announced he had 40,000 tracks on his hard drives, a not uncommon amount in this day and age, the kind of quantity it might have taken an old school vinyl collector a lifetime to accrue. However the vinyl buyer would have spent considerable time and money, if not blood, sweat and tears to gather that music into one place, whereas for the digital age music lover this can be achieved easily, painlessly and often with little regard for what he's collecting. The first question I usually ask someone like that is what format they have that music in, and the answer is invariably as mp3s, and often of the lowest quality. It seems that quantity not quality is the order of the day for many. So we all have a ton of music, which we listen to on our modern systems, be they computers with external speakers or surround sound systems for our multi-media, whatever, as long as it sounds loud and big we tend not to notice the difference and the fact that our listening experience has been enormously degraded by the source and means of reproduction of those sounds is something that is rarely questioned by the majority. In an age when even cd releases are deliberately mastered in a way that eliminates the natural dynamics of the music, it begs the question why anyone would bother to make and record music of real hi-fidelity.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Gmex_4hreQ

Let's face it though, who is bothering to make music in that way? Even major record companies are quite happy for their artists to record in a digital home studio, not surprising when you consider how they'll master the cd and how the vast majority will listen to that music. And in a world where music is free and we all have lots of it, which we'll probably listening to with the wonderful dj shuffle at the controls, where does that leave the place of music in our lives? Unloved and taken for granted are two expressions that immediately come to mind. Another experience I had recently, and again doubtless very common, was at someone's house where indeed their laptop (through some meaty speakers with a hefty sub) was spilling out a reckless selection of tunes in the background. During a lull in the conversation I heard something unfamiliar which really caught my ear, when I asked my host what it was he of course had to go and consult his i-tunes for the artist and title. We live in an age of excess, and music is now definitely another commodity that's suffering from over-consumption, podcasts galore, file sharing, whole digital collections passed from one to another, and even in the death throes of the music industry there's no shortage of new releases.

The fall-out? Well already the enormous changes in the music industry have taken their toll. Rewind back a decade or more and there were still healthy sales possible for a welter of less mainstream artists, which in turn supported a gamut of independent labels and distributors, and lots of djs were still playing vinyl so the twelve inch market was thriving. Remixers were paid healthy fees, major labels craved the kudos of having hip dance producers remixing their artists and even for independents it made economic sense to pay the right remixer a healthy fee to give their release more legs. People still owned cd players and turntables and listened to their music in an entirely different way from today's i-pod, i-tunes, mp3 modus operandi. With the economic state of play today the fact of the matter is that a whole strata of the music industry has been obliterated. Musicians hustle to pay the rent, studios close down or lie idle, and worst of all there's all the music which just isn't even getting made. Of course for those who are happy to make tracks entirely digitally, or have the facility to play and record everything themselves there's still some leeway, but in age where independent labels continue to struggle, and sales of cds continue to decline whilst downloads both legit and illegal represent the bulk of the market, it's tough to make any money from releasing music, and that's an understatement.

The album, the long playing record, the wonder product of the late twentieth century for music is dying alongside the changes in patterns of consumption. It never ceased to amaze me when I bought my Sunday Observer and once a month the music supplement would tail it's album reviews with the pithy recommendation to "download this", with the implied notion that you might even not have to pay for it. An artist strives to amass a body of work that binds together in some kind of cohesive way, running orders are stressed about, some tracks never make the grade, artwork is considered, credits compiled, sleeve notes may be written. Historically the album format has been the yardstick whereby an artist's progress, their intentions, their direction, their soul and their value has been measured, only for someone to download the essential cuts to sit anonymously in a list of thousands of others. Of course the history of music making is riddled with examples where this might be considered a healthy response, an album might be a bunch of fillers and just one killer. Where does that leave the true classics? Maybe those records just aren't getting made, but I never read a review that said download the whole album, in the age of shuffle who's going to listen from to bottom even if it is Kind Of Blue or Astral Weeks? Our short attention spans, our overloaded ears just aren't up to that kind of absorption in the music, and anyway the chances are we're not really hearing it properly anyway.

I grew up in Ipswich and my teenage years were often spent listening to vinyl albums sitting on someone's floor whilst the music came tumbling out of big old speakers, invariably these were Celestion Ditton 22s or 44s, as the factory was in town and everybody seemed to have a route to a cheap or knocked-off pair. That was how I remember music sounding, big old Japanese amplifiers, turntables that were either Dual if you were on a budget, or Thorens or something even more esoteric if you weren't. The music sounded warm and was full of depth and colour. A few years ago I realised that my life as dj had taken my listening experience down to a level where that magic I remembered was no longer what I was hearing, the speakers were big and rugged, there was a budget power amplifier doing the driving and my Technics were routed through a Pioneer mixer that had all the toys, but where was the sound? So off I went on a quest to rediscover the joys of my youth, and the best speakers I'd ever heard were made by Rogers. I'd passed an amazing looking hi-fi shop ( http://www.audiogold.co.uk/ ) in North London many times and noticed it seemed to sell alot of vintage gear, so when I went in with a bundle of cash (cos inevitably these things don't come cheap) , and I was introduced to the joys of the Rogers LS3/5A, a pint sized speaker originally designed for the BBC's outside broadcast vans but now the stuff of hi-fi legend. http://www.ls35a.com/ On that day I took as my sample cd a Japanese issue of one of my favourite recordings Donald Byrd's Places And Spaces, coming out of the Rogers I heard a whole new dimension to that familiar Mizell Brothers sound that had never blessed my ears before! A long winded way of getting back to my point about the way we listen to (and the way we consume) our music. You may think that the sound emanating from your modern system is big and fat, there may well be a sub that makes even the weediest mp3 sound like it's got balls, but depth and detail it won't have. Musicality? Funny word I know, but when you hear a great analogue recording through the right equipment there's no other word that is more appropriate.

I really don't mind setting myself up as grumpy old man/boring old fart if this is how you want to read it, but something is dying and if you're really a music lover, think about it. How you acquire and how you listen to the music you love is crucial to the future survival of great sound and great music being made. Don't get me wrong I'm a big fan of alot of new school sounds that are mashed together in home studios, creativity is ultimately the true key, but even that kind of music sounds a whole lot better on a good system and whoever made it stands a much better chance of carrying on doing so if you've paid for it.

Tokyo times.

Update!!!

It's been a while! I'm currently staying in Tokyo as the guest of my good friend and collaborator Shuya Okino, and whilst here I have the pleasure of spinning at my favourite (micro) club, pint-sized but thoroughly enjoyable: it's The Room!! http://www.theroom.jp/ Anyway should you happen to be a fellow gaijin living in Tokyo or happen to be passing through, drop us an e-mail and we may be able to sort you out on the guest list! I'll be @ The Room on February 20th for Shuya's birthday bash alongside my old buddy Alex from Tokyo, and then again the following Friday (26th) for the 8th anniversary of Champ, the funk and rare groove party with a young and vibrant crowd. Should be an "anniversaire extraordinaire" and has got be digging for some tunes I haven't played for a long time!! Finally I'll be back again the following night (27th) for my last session at The Room for a while.

However the main purpose for my stay in Tokyo is to work on the debut solo album from Masa Nakamura (project name as yet undecided) which I'm producing, and we're currently rehearsing material and will have our first studio session whilst I'm here. The concept for this project is all cover versions chosen by various djs and luminaries of the scene including myself, KJM, Jurgen from Jazzanova, Demus and Gilles P. There are some interesting choices, and hopefully we can do justice to them and still add some original twists!

I'll be returning to London on March 10th just in time for the first Inspiration Information (memories http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVvHTD5szeY )session of 2010 on the 12th which has now moved to a Friday night but will continue on a bi-monthly basis. Looking forward to hooking up with Phil Asher once again for our boogie inspired but thoroughly eclectic session of righteous grooves.

Just to catch up with past events here are some photos from the TCJF session which was a real highlight for me last year and probably the biggest crowd I've played to in a while, it was a pleasure and privilege to play in the main arena as the only foreign dj in the line-up.

Sacho from Soil and Pimp, Kiccio, Hiromi, and Sato from The Room
Ken from Root Soul, Toshio Matsura, Rob Gallagher, Ryota Nozaki (Jazztronik), andShige

DJ Kawasaki and Shuya Okino

It's been well over a year since the last Cosmic Jam http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cx1q385-jyw and even I'm beginning to get nostalgic. I'm well aware that I haven't actually been that forthcoming with podcasts and mixes for those wanting to wrap their ears around some Cosmic Jam type of selections, and i know I've said this before, but soon come!! So if you're interested, sign up to the mailing list and you'll soon be receiving exclusive links to music selected and mixed by myself.

For those of you with a fascination for the Brazilian groove you may remember the Brazilian Funk Experience compilation I put together for Nascente, well if all goes to plan, volume 2 should be dropping later this year!

It's been a difficult time for the music business, just to state the obvious, and I was saddened to hear that Domu, an artist whose music I've loved and supported since his earliest drum and bass excursions for Reinforced, has hung up his headphones and stopped producing music. As it says when you try to log on to his Treble O website "this really is the end". Well I can only wish him luck and happiness for the future whatever course he chooses to pursue. For the rest of us there is no choice but to carry on! Music is a healthy addiction we can't give up. There's plenty of reasons to be cheerful and much to be excited about for the future, great projects in the pipeline, wonderful music being made. For the moment here's a little chart of things to check! (Mostly either available or soon come plus a couple of sneakies)

1.Silhouette Brown - Silhouette Brown 2 (2000 black)

2. Zara Mcfarlane - Captured (jazz version) (?)

3.Kuniyuki Takahashi - Walking In The Naked City (Mule Musiq)

4. The Souljazz Orchestra - Rising Sun (Strut)

5.Fanfair Odyssey/Playtime - V.A. (Capricorn Rising)

6.Tribe - Rebirth ( Planet e)

7.Blak n Spanish - No Compromise (restless soul)

8.Makoto and Kez YM - Chameleon (Mukatsuku)

9. Mark de Clive Lowe ft. Lady Alma - Believe (?)

10.José James - Black Magic (Brownswood)

Peace love and Music - Patrick.