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NOVEMBER PROVIDED A FEAST OF LIVE MUSIC IN LONDON & BRIGHTON

Guy Barker conducts, Billy Cobham drums and 80 musicians play their asses off!

I recall thinking, when preparing the Gig Guide for November, that 2024’s eleventh month offered a remarkable feast of concerts covering myriad genres of music (even by London’s rich standards). And so it proved to be – across the autumnal month I attended so many concerts I barely switched my TV on and fell behind on my reading (admittedly, I also went to the cinema a lot – if you are a regular Yak reader you’re already aware of this).

Below I’m going to consider a selection of these performances. Most were stunning. While a couple were memorable, if not for the right reasons.

Eddie Chacon sings his haunted soul songs.

EDDIE CHACON – JAZZ CAFE

Anyone out there remember Charles & Eddie? The pop-soul duo scored a huge worldwide hit in 1992 with Would I Lie To You, a song I liked so much I purchased the duo’s debut album Duophonic (on cassette: it lived on my Walkman while I backpacked across Europe and Asia). They should have been the new Hall & Oates – to my mind Duophonic is stronger than any album Hall & Oates issued – but their record label made the mistake of following Would I Lie To You with NYC, an album track that is in no way single material. Inevitably, NYC stiffed and Charles & Eddie were dismissed as “one hit wonders”.

The duo’s second album Chocolate Milk (which I bought discounted from Steve’s Sounds, one of those long gone record shops that rinsed excess record label stock) was disappointing – as with many young artists, the music they made in anonymity would prove far stronger than that created after they’d had a big hit and tasted fame. Duophonic’s charms never faded and, across the decades, I continued to listen and wonder what happened to all the promise that album demonstrated.

Well, Charles died of cancer in 2001 at far too young an age, while Eddie Chacon would, it turned out, leave the music industry, before returning in 2020 with Pleasure, Joy And Happiness, a low-key album that demonstrated his beautiful voice and ability to write memorable, emotionally literate songs remained. He followed this with 2023’s Sundown, another excellent example of what might be called “ambient soul”, and undertook a short UK tour in early November.

On a chilly Monday night Chacon took the stage to a half-full Jazz Cafe. His streaming numbers haven’t yet crossed a million for any one of his solo album songs, which suggests he hasn’t connected with his old pop audience, nor created a large new listenership. Which is odd in the sense that Chacon’s music possesses both emotional depth and melodic flair. But in a world where the likes of Usher and other slick-but-slight singers garner huge followings, it could be Eddie’s music, haunted with regret and cautious optimism, isn’t dumbed down enough to garner mass appeal.

Backed by young Newcastle quartet Knats, Chacon sang with unhurried grace. He has a stately presence, barely moving, caressing lyrics that often concern emotional upheaval while not showing much emotion (beyond a twitch and the occasional smile). Chacon’s sound is, as noted, “ambient soul” in the sense he draws on classic 70s R&B while bathing his yearning voice in downtempo, mood(y) arrangements. In this sense, Chacon is far removed from the driving tempos and bright horns we often associate with soul singers. If this sounds like a bad night out let me assure you its not – Chacon’s a graceful singer and Knats demonstrated an eloquent, imaginative ability which complimented his voice. Eddie complimented the musicians he shared the stage with and Knats are definitely a name to watch out for.

I didn’t really expect Eddie to sing any of the Duophonic songs – although I secretly hoped he would – so I can’t complain when he didn’t. That said, I hope he reconsiders: Hurt No More, I Understand, Unconditional, Be A Little Easy On Me, these and others are fine songs and deserve an airing. Eddie Chacon is unlikely to return to the top of the charts but his haunted soul songs are worthy of your attention.

LULU – BRIGHTON DOME

A day trip to Brighton to see the foremost Scottish pop diva of the 1960s? What could go wrong? Friends to visit, record shops to trawl through, the sea to see… Nothing. Except Lulu, who was bloody dreadful.

I’ve been aware of Lulu most of my life as her TV variety show used to get screened in NZ when I was a small boy and my mum must have watched it as I can still recall its opening credits of Lulu in a helicopter and her name spelt out in big letters in the ocean. She was on Kiwi radio in the early 70s with The Man Who Sold The Wold and I saw The Man With The Golden Gun (whose theme song she sang) in the cinema.

Beyond those two and a handful of her 60s hits, I’ve heard the album Jerry Wexler cut on her in Muscle Shoals in an attempt to emulate Dusty In Memphis (it didn’t) and a few more recent efforts. But, to be honest, there’s not a lot else. In a way, Lulu’s more famous for being the single name, perky popette who did lots of light entertainment TV and never appeared to age than for her musical catalogue. But as the Champagne For Lulu tour is billed as her “farewell” – she’s 75 and been in the business for sixty years – I decided I had to take the chance and see a singer who, while never in Dusty or Sandy’s league, was part of British pop at its heady 60s zenith. So here I am in Brighton’s wonderful Dome theatre, one of the younger people in the audience (the youngest was Kai, the 17 year old son of a Brighton friend of mine).

Taking the stage, Lulu launched into Shout, the Isley Brothers song that put her in the Top Ten in May 1964. Shout is a fast, dynamic punch of a song and this means she struggles to maintain momentum afterwards – if she had started with ballads, moved on to bouncy pop and then delivered this as her big R&B banger it would have had more impact.

Lulu is backed by five muso blokes and, while they are competent on their instruments, they are deadly dull. Misfires continue throughout as Lulu serves up her big hits while often letting a large video screen above the stage do the heavy lifting: for The Man Who Sold The World she has a clip of Bowie performing the song in concert and appears content to let him own his song. Another tune has her late ex-husband Maurice Gibb performing it on telly. The James Bond number has a montage of Roger Moore-era Bond clips. A photo of Paul & John allows her to reminisce how much they liked her music. Honestly, what should have been a celebration was awful.

And odd – you would think that sixty years of playing to a public would have taught Lulu something about stage craft. Beyond looking far younger than her age, she seemingly possesses no skills at creating a dynamic evening’s performance. She’s chatty but this would work better if Lulu simply did an evening where she traded on told tall stories full of showbiz legends and didn’t bother performing.

Her band were so flat that the songs sounded less than they are – employing, say, the Knats would have pushed Lulu to engage with her songs and sing them with a degree of imagination. Or if that’s a stretch too far consider when I saw Dionne Warwick a few years ago: she could barely sing but at least Warwick employed a fine band so her magnificent hits sounded like the real thing. I know, mentioning Lulu and Dionne in the same paragraph is akin to heresy but my point is this: if Lulu had invested in a band (and band leader) who gave serious thought as to how to present her hits in a stately way this could have been a far better show.

Joey Quinones and Bryan Ponce of Thee Sinceers - “this is the Chicano invasion!”

THEE SINCEERS – JAZZ CAFE

In October I was working on a feature detailing Los Angeles’ “lowrider soul” scene for The Guardian – this was linked to a new album by Thee Sacred Souls, a Californian trio signed to Daptone Records who specialise in slow-burning soul ballads (a style known to East LA’s Chicano community as “lowrider soul”, as those who cruise in those impossibly cool cars like to listen to such) – and my LA contacts kept mentioning Thee Sinceers, a band I’d never heard of. The Angelenos apparently considered Thee Sinceers as leaders of the current lowrider soul scene.

Fortuitously, not long after the feature ran, Thee Sinceers played their debut European gig. Of course I went along. And they were fabulous. Led by vocalist Joey Quinones, the 10-member band play original songs in the aforementioned slow-burning soul style. Quinones is a remarkable vocalist – his voice pleads and yearns – and his band are skilled musicians who play with feel (something Lulu’s band notably lacked). Backing vocalist Adriana Flores proved she is also a fine singer when taking the lead while guitarist Bryan Ponce and bassist Chris Manjarrez also were given vocal spots and sang with distinctive voices – 4 strong vocalists in one band, that’s what the likes of The Dells and Four Tops once provided, but few can today. And that’s four more than most British bands.

Quinones is a seasoned entertainer, wooing and jesting with the audience, telling them “this is the Chicano invasion”- Thee Sinceers are a Mexican American band from East LA – even jumping into the audience (followed by the horn section). Great songs, great singing, great performance: Thee Sinceers will return to British shores in May 25; I suggest you book tickets as soon as they are made available.

Billy’s Tama kit. That’s a lot of drums.

BILLY COBHAM – QUEEN ELIZABETH HALL

Get this: Billy Cobham turned 80 this year and, to celebrate such, the EFG London Jazz Festival arranged for him to share the stage with (approximately) 80 musicians. As birthday presents go its a remarkably generous one and Cobham and his three band members certainly made the most of it, joined as they were by the BBC Concert Orchestra and Guy Barker’s Big Band.

As a child I remember seeing photos of Cobham with his huge afro and huge drum kit and wondering what kind of super hero he might be – I mean, he appeared to be extraordinary. Now, seeing him for the first time, he no longer has an afro (or hair of any kind) and he’s quite short. This noted, Billy still commands a large kit. And as the music gets underway Cobham proves himself to still be a superman behind his kit: age has not withered Billy’s rhythmic dexterity, his hands and feet conjuring up a rich tapestry of rhythms.

I’m largely familiar with Cobham’s 1970s music because his albums have been sampled countless times – the pulsing bass that open’s Massive Attack’s Blue Lines album (on Safe From Harm) is from Stratus (from his 1973 debut album Spectrum). Cobham was a leading figure in jazz fusion, a genre that often encouraged indulgent soloing and a tendency for the music to get soporific, but his best recordings are masterful blends of jazz/funk/rock.

Opening with Mirage, a tune I’m not familiar with, the sound was huge: Cobham, bassist Michael Mondesir, guitarist Rocco Ziffarelli and keyboardist Gary Husband laid down the groove and the BBC Concert Orchestra’s massed strings blended with Barker’s Big Band’s wall of horns on top of it. Oh, the great rush of sound that poured forth was gorgeous! This is how things progressed, leading up to an epic Stratus - Mondesir’s bass line providing a huge tension which the string and horn players swirled around - prior to interval.

Second set kept things focused on Cobham’s mid-1970s anthems and, again, the sound was spectacular – Barker conducted the assembled musicians with selected horn players getting up to solo while timpani added a delicate, spidery icing on this huge sound. Listening to this massed gathering of musical talent made me feel like I was experiencing a Quincy Jones-produced soundtrack – the rush and rustle of instruments, the fearless playing, the big groove and deft touches. Believe me, it was some kind of wonderful.

Portrait of the artist as a happy man: Billy Cobham.

If there was anything off in the evening it involved Soweto Kinch, Brummie sax player and now presenter of Radio 3’s ‘Round Midnight jazz show, coming on stage during both sets to do a Q&A with Cobham (the performance was being recorded for future BBC broadcast). Billy’s very good natured and seemed to happily chat with Kinch (who needs further training in conducting interviews) and I did learn that he was born in Panama but, really, the Q&A could have been conducted entirely prior to the start of the first or second set and thus dispensed with.

Anyway, this is a minor issue and the concert was one of the most expansive performances I’ve ever witnessed. That huge sound packed with so much colour, rhythm and beauty – Guy Barker deserves many kudos for suggesting, arranging and conducting such. And Billy deserves kudos just for remaining so fabulously Billy.

MARC RIBOT Y LOS CUBANOS POSTIZOS (PROSTHETIC CUBANS) – CADOGAN HALL

The EFG London Jazz Festival helmed so much magnificent music it sounds petty to note that US guitarist Marc Ribot & The Prosthetic Cubanos didn’t suit Cadogan Hall. But, considering it was my first experience of seeing Ribot, I was disappointed to find him playing a venue that didn’t compliment his offbeat yet spiky take on the classic Cuban compositions of Arsenio Rodriguez.

Ribot grew out of the New York Downtown scene of the 1980s (think John Zorn, Lounge Lizards, Jim Jarmusch films etc) and made his name both as a solo artist and as guitar-for-hire – Tom Waits, Elvis Costello and other lauded figures have regularly employed him as their featured lead guitarist. He’s certainly got a distinctive guitar style and sound and much of his music stays in the margins, appreciated by those who favour experimental rather than conventional.

Ribot’s “postmodern” take on early Cuban music took shape around the time Buena Vista Social Club broke big internationally. While I don’t doubt Ribot has long loved Rodriguez’s groundbreaking mambo compositions, I’m sure the sudden surge of interest in Cuban music helped broaden his audience. That said, watching him and his Cubans at the Cadogan I determined that the vast majority of his audience likely had little interest in Latin music - the grungy, ironic NYC approach he applies to Rodriguez’s music surely appeals more to fans of, say, Sonic Youth than Eddie Palmieri.

Listening to Ribot and his Cubans is akin to witnessing Santana being reinvented as an arty garage band – his four musicians (drums, double bass, organ, percussion) set up Rodriguez’s mambo rhythms and then Ribot blasts splintered guitar sounds over the top. That Cadogan Hall is not a rock venue was an issue: his audience – largely middle aged blokes – wanted to drink beer, which meant much shuffling in this seated venue as they went back and forth to the bar. The venue was also unsuitable for anyone who wanted to dance – a few did (his rhythm section were superb). Finally, the Cadogan is simply far too formal for Ribot’s grungy Latin thing, it lacks the atmosphere that would add excitement to these NYC downtown musicians, leaving them somewhat stranded. The Forum or The Electric would have worked better.

Straight from the streets of New Orleans - the Dirty Dozen in full effect.

TAKE ME TO THE RIVER NEW ORLEANS/ DIRTY DOZEN BRASS BAND – BARBICAN CENTRE/LAFAYETTE

The music of New Orleans was a central theme of London Jazz Festival’s second weekend with free afternoon concerts on Saturday and Sunday and epic ticketed concerts both evenings. Saturday saw the European premiere of Take Me To The River New Orleans (there is a documentary feature from 2022 with this title – several years previously there was Take Me To The River Memphis, both docs being available on certain streaming platforms) where a selection of musicians from New Orleans, young and old, share the stage and celebrate their city’s music.

The London concert saw Cyril Neville – the last of the Neville Brothers still active – alongside Kentish man Jon Cleary (the pianist has been based in New Orleans since the early 1980s), with young vocalists Bo Dollis Jr and Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, all backed by a crack band. None of the bounce rappers who appeared in the film had been invited over - which wasn’t a bad thing, I don’t see how the likes of Big Frida would fit into this slick show where classic New Orleans R&B anthems dominated.

While the performers were rooted deep in the tradition, the evening did feel as if New Orleans R&B had been packaged for the tourist market – which isn’t a problem, New Orleans relies on tourism to keep its musicians working – but I prefer hearing these sounds when they are looser, less choreographed.

An English man in New Orleans: Jon Cleary, back in Britain, and channelling Dr John.

Sunday night saw the Dirty Dozen Brass Band return to British shores after a long absence: I recall seeing them in 1992 or 93 at the Union Chapel and my then French belle was so moved by their music she got up from the pews and started shaking it with the band! The DDBB were the brass band who took the tradition of bands who accompanied jazz funerals and second line parades to a wider audience – they’ve made some superb albums and worked with many famous names.

The Lafayette performance found three of the DD’s founding members on stage – brass bands’ tend to have fluid line-ups as they train the youth – and they sounded phenomenal. Unlike the previous night, the DDBB didn’t play safe, instead they stretched out, cooking up a big gumbo of jazz and funk (with reggae and rock flavourings), creating a sound that carried the heat of a second-line parade in the New Orleans humidity.

Worth waiting more than three decades to witness again? Absolutely! As jazz was born in New Orleans, its fitting that the EFG London Jazz Festival 2024 came to a magnificent end with a band who represent the best of the Crescent City’s musical heritage.

Avantdale Bowling Club. Surrealist by name, jazz rap by nature.

Other Jazz Festival highlights included Tunisian oud player Anouar Brahem’s masterful trio – the way they let silence sit between the notes was exquisite; Kiwi jazz rappers Avantdale Bowling Club performing a dynamic rush of rhymes and solos; veteran US jazz trumpeter Charles Tolliver led a mixed US-British band in celebrating the centenary of his late employer Max Roach. Stunning modern jazz – the notoriously fiery Roach would surely have approved. Melbourne Jazz Festival also hosted a free stage on the first Sunday and the talent on display there suggests Oz jazz is healthy (if not as exciting as Avantdale Bowling Club’s reinventions).

I’ll now note my thanks to EFG London Jazz Festival and all those who were involved in making it such a musical feast – especially The Barbican Centre, Explore Louisiana UK and Serious Org. And for the promoters who put on the non-LJF events reviewed here – Thee Sinceers and, yes, Lulu – and ensure the live music experience continues to be widely available, thank you too for your efforts. Music is my great love and being able to experience such talent and variety enriches my life (and many others).

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A pink Indian? Take Me To The River New Orleans saw Big Chief Bo Dollis Jr strut his stuff.