it's jazz baby

Me – I’m going to the Tripod please.

Taxi Bloke – On Harcourt St?

Me – Yeah.

Taxi Bloke – What’s on there?

Me – Herbie Hancock.

Taxi Bloke – Who’s he?

Me – You might know him from that tune he did called ‘Rockit’ back in 1983.

Taxi Bloke – No

Me – He’s done lots of other stuff. Played with the likes of Miles Davis, Donald Byrd, Wayne Shroter, Chick Corea, Jaco Pastorius, did the theme tune to the Cosby Kids cartoon show, stuff like that

Taxi Bloke – Ah jaysus, all those musicians are up their own hole.

Me – Well he’s famous, but I doubt that he’s that bad.

Taxi Bloke – I’ve a friend who’s a musician and he’s up his own arse. He’s not in touch with reality. Are you going to Girls Aloud? You could go to that gig with earplugs in and you’d still enjoy it.

And so began the night. The Herbie Hancock Sextet was playing in Tripod last night and the Don Rosco weaved some magic and sorted me out with entry to the gig. We hooked up with The Mullet beforehand and managed to bypass the lengthy queue that had formed. Straight in. No chaser. Apparently it was supposed to kick-off at 8 sharp but it was 8.15 before Herbie and his ensemble arrived on stage. Last night he was joined by Lionel Loueke on guitar, Terence Blanchard on trumpet, James Genus on bass guitar, Gregoire Maret on harmonica and Kendrick Scott on drums.

Rather than being up his own arse Herbie was an entirely affable character (I can’t wait to tell that taxi driver). He complained a little about the cold, introduced the band, completed some general audience interaction, compared his well worn shoes with Blanchards silver sneakers and kicked off with the tune ‘Actual Proof’ which I think is from the second Headhunters album, Thrust. It lasted about twenty minutes or twice as long as the recorded version. When it was over there was some more audience interaction and it turns out that he’s not only affable but he’s a fairly funny, self-deprecating individual too. I’m really warming to Herbie now. He cracks into the tune ‘Speak like a child’ and after about fifteen minutes it segues into a version of ‘The Visitor’. Another fifteen minutes later and that tune ends. At this stage I’m beginning to wonder exactly how many tunes he’s going to fit into the gig.

Herbie then gave a special introduction to Lionel Loueke. I was reading about Lionel’s background today and his tale really is something special. From his poor beginnings in Benin, West Africa he’s now playing guitar all over the world with some jazz legends. Last night we were treated to a composition of his called ‘Seven Teens’ that featured on his recent release Karibu. It’s apparently written with seventeen beats to the bar, which I imagine is damn hard to play. This was followed by a solo improvisation with just his voice and guitar. The rest of the band left him to it and took a quick piss break. There was some crowd interaction when he got everyone clapping and chanting and he did a bit of mad shit with his voice that sounded like Huey, Louis & Dewey doing some human beatboxing. It was great value. The rest of the gig just melted together. They did a version of ‘Cantaloup Island’; a tune that many will know inspired the US3 cover version, Cantaloop. I don’t remember all that much after that. It was all done and dusted by 10.30 and we were sent home with the jazz fusion still ringing in our ears.

Never a man to miss a trick, The Mullet led us down to Anseo on Camden Street where we caught some of the set from UK dubstepper Plastician. The place was heaving downstairs so we popped our heads upstairs for a couple of quick swifties. A much more convivial atmosphere up there and the smell of body odour wasn’t as bad. Some times you have to know when to call a night a night and that time was upon me. The Carling Cup highlights beckoned me home and there I headed. Maximum respect to the Don Rosco for driving me home just in time to see the Arsenal kids stick a few in the onion bag against Wigan. All was right with the world.

blog! a rhythm?

I was reading the newspapers that built up over the weekend and I stumbled across a feature on Gerry Anderson. Not to be confused with the talented tv producer and writer, Gerry Anderson, the one I'm talking about is the not quite as talented bloke who always turns up on BBC Northern Ireland or BBC Radio 4. He's apparently courting controversy these days by claiming that Gary Glitter is a decent old skin.

The picture of Gerry served to remind me of a time about 15 years ago when the trad/folk band I was in entered the Opportunity Knocks talent contest held in Ballyshannon. I considered us a supergroup of sorts. We had a singer who went on to voice the character of Shadow in Bear in the Big Blue House. We had an accordion player from Cavan who was the only person I ever heard make that particular instrument sound good (Welcome to Hell! Here's your accordion!). We had a wonderful guitarist from Rossnowlagh and another talented bloke from Clondalkin and then there was yours truly on percussion. If my memory serves me correctly we won and collected a grand in prize money. Our win came courtesy of three independent judges: the aforementioned Gerry Anderson, the then Late Late Show in-house pianist Frank McNamara and someone else I can't remember. Needless to say we went on the batter with all the judges and other contestants afterwards and ended up in a boozer called Eoin Roe O'Neills I believe. The gargle flowed all night (probably at our expense) and Frank kept banging out tunes on the piano until the small hours of the morning. As the sun started to rise I realised that we had to get to Sligo to make a train back to Dublin. I distinctly remember the scornful look on my mates's mother as she collected us to bring us to the airport. Three drunk smelly blokes sitting in a car at about 7.30 in the morning pretending to be sober. I had some kind of lucid moment around Ben Bulben as that's the only part of the journey I remember. I think I kept calling it Ben's Bulb. That kind of stuff counts as funny when you've been drinking all night. What wasn't funny was the trip home on the train when we were collectively blanked by a clearly hungover Frank McNamara. That's stars for you. They're your best buddy one night and then your yesterdays news.

What the fuck all of that has to do with the rest of this post is beyond me. I'm banging on about that kind of nonsense when ther's things happening on the music and blogging scene all around me. In Dublin news a couple of new places have opened in the city. The first is actually new. It's some boozer called Le Cirk on Dame Street and it has some notions about being a jazz lounge. It appeared from behind hoardings some weeks ago and is trying to find its feet. I sent my wife and her mates to it the other night but they were having none of it and left after one drink. Maybe jazz isn't their thing. Apparently the music bookings are being taken care of by ex-Jazz FM boss, Ollie Dowling. The former pirate radio mogul will hope that this return to jazz promotion is more successful than his efforts with the Bleu Note on Capel St. The other new, but actually not new, venue is The Twisted Pepper on Middle Abbey Street. This was previously Traffic and for some reason I managed to never go there when it open. As such I've no idea if Twisted Pepper is any different. The Wobble Crew were promoting a night downstairs and it featured my old junglist muckers Don Rosco and Naphta. I only hung around for a while to check out Don Rosco and T-Woc weave some dubstep madness and missed Naphta as a result. The lure of my slippers and a hot cup of Ovaltine was too much for me. I legged it.

The DEAF weekender draws ever closer and I'll remind you again that the only place to be this Thursday evening is in The Sugar Club for the Sweettalk with Steinski, Maser and Alan Gilsenan. I'll be there. Carrying a copy of the FT under my left oxter and with a pink carnation in the lapel of my sports jacket. Another event worth checking is the White Noise gig being promoted by Mici Durnin and his cohort Darren of Maximum Joy promotions. I only met Mici at the tail-end of the summer. We had some oldschool football kickabouts with a motley crew of participants from the likes of The Jimmy Cake, Dave from Road Records and Claude from PIAS distribution. It harked back to those football games on the local green that would go on until it got pitch black. If someone had arrived with an empty glass milk-bottle full of water it would have completed the picture. Anyhow White Noise play The Sugar Club at 8pm on the 26th October. A DJ Set from Broadcast will follow.

I have it on good account that Twenty Majors forum is the place to be this weather. I went over just after it opened and it asked me to register. I hate to admit it but I'm a lazy auld shite when it comes to registering on websites, so I didn't. In any event, I have it on good account that it's working out nicely.

I'd read about the Casino in Marino way back in school. It featured in our art history studies back in secondary school. Yesterday we went en famille over Donnycarney way and visited the Casino. You can imagine my disappointment when I found there was no blackjack table there. Instead you're treated to an architectural wonder of symmetry, creativity and trickery. It's the bleeding business. We went on the tour with a German mother and daughter and some bloke who looked like he'd been forced there by his mother. We all had to put on slippers before they allowed us walk on the nice parquet floors. Freaky buzz but a top buzz.

Finally, it pains me to say it but the fabulous Blogariddims series has come to an end. Fifty blogariddims later, Droid, Slug and the rest of the weareie cru have called a halt to proceedings. These guys have achieved huge admiration for crafting podcasts for general consumption to anyone with an interweb connection. I for one believe they have covered themselves in glory. Well done chaps. You can check out the hugely convoluted but higly entertaining series of posts by all 10 contributors to the final blogariddims over on weare.ie. And here is the very first post by Droid

wha' g'waan bredren

It feels like ages since I last posted but I guess it's not really. I had great intentions and planned on posting loads but then I didn't have the time to do it. That's enough excuses anyway, let's have a round up of what's been happening in the vinyl world and also review and preview some events in Matt Vinyl's life.

I should mention the buzz that was the Festival of World Culture. Held in various parts of Dun Laoghaire, we decided to bring the kids along on Sunday afternoon. And what a belter of a day it turned out to be. It actually felt like summer for the first time this summer. I don't even know the names of the acts that I managed to see but the first was three heavy-boned African women doing some singing and some leisurely dancing. They were great craic altogether. Next up was a peculiar hybrid band of bagpipers and samba drummers. It was weird shit but once again it was great. Not the usual thing I'd go and listen to so all the more reason to check it out. The North Strand Klezmer Band were up next and were pretty deadly. They sound a bit like how I imagine a Jewish wedding band might sound. The next lot were another peculiar lot. I think they were from the Ukraine and they appeared to have a sizeable following who'd come to see them. There were three ladies, two on drums and one on what looked like a cello. There was a bloke with them who'd sing every so often into a small loudspeaker (a la Michael Stipe). They were making music that could best be described as Ukrainian Folk Techno. I loved the first few tunes but then it just started to grate on my skull. I'm at a loss to remember who came next. I was pretty drunk at that stage. I was also wondering where the world culture was in the crowd. It started to resemble a festival of middle classes. I'd had enough, the kids were tired, I was in bits. There was no time to hang around to hear Lisa Hannigan so I guess I'll have to check her out this weekend.

Which leads me nicely to the forthcoming Electric Picnic. I'm heading down this Friday morning but I'll unfortunately have to cut the weekend short and come home on Sunday evening. As such I'm going to miss the one band that I really wanted to see, My Bloody Valentine. I'm a bit snapping about that but what can I do. Another of the kids has their first day at school on Monday and I just can't miss it. I'm not sure why, cos I missed the other two starting school but lets not dwell on my past misdemeanours. I can console myself somewhat because at least I managed to catch them play a couple of times when they were in their prime. They were gigs that I remeber well and really enjoyed so I hope its the same for everyone else on Sunday night. I'll play a few of their tunes before bed on Sunday night. That should send the kids off to sleep. I'll update you on the events upon my return.

In terms of vinyl procurement it's been a so-so few days. I picked up two seven inches that are so shite that they're really not worth mentioning. However I have mentioned them so I may as well tell you what they are. The first is by The Shortwave Set and its called 'Now til '69'. I bought it because its produced by Dangermouse but all he's managed to produce is a load of hairy arse. It sounds like a really bad David Bowie tune. Think Absolute Beginners. Or it sounds like any Golden Horde tune! The other piece of shit that I bought is called 'Steve Mc Queen' and its by The Automatic. Avoid it at all costs.

Some quality control was imposed for the next few purchases thank Jaysus. It's the third single that I've bought from the Lykke Li album and its another cracker. Its called 'Breaking it Up' and it's one of my favourite tunes on the album. The b-side features a remix of 'Everybody but Me' by Norwegian producer Disk Jokke. Its a nice low key rhythmic affair that builds from start to finish. It's great. It sounds nothing like it but it somehow manages to remind me of 'State of Independence' by Donna Summer. Maybe Disk Jokke is the new Quincy Jones. Maybe not.

The new Beck seven inch 'Chemtrails' sounds like he got stuck in a room with a load of British shoegazers from the late eighties and a bunch of prog-folkers from the late sixties. The result is a pretty charming affair. Lots of rolling drums and phased vocals. Just what the doctor ordered. Even the freaky guitar wank-off at the end fits in nicely and its abrupt ending is timed extremely well. It stops just before you get annoyed with it.

The final three mentions go to the albums that I picked up in All City Records the other day. The lads got a load of new second-hand stock in and amongst it was a load of funk and jazz. The three gems that I uncovered are all ones that I've meant to buy before. Well now I have them. They are 'Sketches of Spain' by Miles Davis, 'Feelin Alright' by Mongo Santamaria and 'Lets take it to the stage' by Funkadelic. They've a bucket load of great stuff down there at the moment. Tell them I sent you. They'll probably throw you out.

And finally.........he's been at it again. That MP3Hugger never rests on his laurels. He's put together the second Indiecater compilation and it once again features a load of bands from around the globe. I only downloaded it tonight so I'll look forward to listening to it over the next few days. I might even review this one rather than give it the few half-arsed sentences like I did with the last one. The again I might not because I'm becoming a lazy bastard and my reviews never extend beyond two sentences. It might be best for all if I leave it to the professionals. Buy it here.

listen to the rhythm of the drum and the bass

Friday evening saw drum legend Billy Cobham visit Andrews Lane Theatre here in Dublin. Billy has played with various musical legends over the course of his career and also has a decent catalogue of his own work to boot. He's played drums with the likes of Miles Davis, the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Quincy Jones and George Benson. His debut album 'Spectrum' is probably his best known and most popular but I first got into him through his 'Shabazz' album. If you're not a fan of jazz fusion its unlikely that he'd appeal to your tastes. If however you're a closet wannabe drummer then you'd get a great buzz out of his work. Cobham was one of the first popular drummers to drum open-handed lead. Basically thats equivalent to being an ambidextrous drummer. If you've ever tried to drum then you'll have some idea of how difficult that is. As a failed child drummer the stuff that Billy Cobham can do rarely ceases to amaze me. The fact that he's sixty-four and still doing it is even better. At the gig on Friday he came on stage wearing a bandana. It made him look a little like one of the characters in the Police Academy movies. His accompanying band of long-haired session heads all looked a good forty years younger than him. At times it strayed into the real noodly wanky jazz that most people hate but I've a bit of a soft spot for that kind of shit. As a teenager one of my favourite albums was by a US jazz guitarist called Kevin Eubanks. Eubanks later turned up as the leader of the house band on Jay Leno's Tonight Show and he's been there ever since. Anyway, Billy Cobham played quite a few of his better known tunes and this included Stratus, the tune that Massive Attack made famous when they sampled it for their own tune 'Safe from Harm'. It was a bit of a freaky crowd at the gig and some girls in the corner kept talking the whole way through the gig which was a bit off form. I think he played for about ninety minutes and by that stage I'd seen enough of his brilliance and had had my quota of jazz fusion for the next 12 months. If you'd like to get your own quota fulfilled then check out Billy in action playing the aforementioned Stratus.



The Mullet whisked us off to the newest and best bar in Dublin. By the time you read this all of that wil have changed and it will be stuffed with a load of fuckers that you won't want to hang around with. There's a door on Fade Street just to the left of the Le Geueleton Restaurant. Inside the door there's a blackboard with a sign saying 'bar upstairs'. It feels like you're breaking into someones gaff but when you go upstairs and through a doorway it opens up into a series of rooms that are a cross between a New York loft apartment and a back street Berlin bar. Unpainted plaster rendered walls, wooden floors and simple furniture and the most useless barman you could find in Dublin. It was perfect. It kept that way for most of the night until they started playing Daft Punk at top volume. We decided to leave it and remember it fondly than to stay and suffer the music. I'd like to think it will remain such a charming place but I reckon it'll soon be too popular for its own good. Check it out before it gets shit.