A few days ago, after a largely sleepless night, during which I experienced a very weird ‘teatime of the soul’, so to speak, I wound up thinking long and hard about stopping blogging altogether.
It seems a peculiarly modern, shallow and vapid pursuit, in some respects. And then there’s the issue of sharing too much of yourself with complete strangers, some of whom will be, tragically, evil internet ne’erdowells. Indeed, I’m barraged daily by far more crap from this latter category than I am genuine interest in or interaction with my blogging content.
So from the point of view of energy investments and general safety, online and otherwise, I’m profoundly doubting the worth of blogging. I’m even worried that the only things that genuinely keeps me doing it are habit, and – worse – possible addiction!
Anyway, there is another less gloomy side. And that’s the simple pleasures of what is in effect an online diary. One thing I might well do… no, make that will do… is go over the blog(s), at some point, and tidy them up, from an internet security perspective.
Over the last week I’ve binged on The IT Crowd. Having watched the entirety of the show, all four seasons, I’m, well… ?
I liked the way the series starts. I’m a Chris Morris fan, so his presence was immediately appreciated. The opening scenario sets things up nicely; Reynholm Industries boss Denholm Reynholm (Morris) appoints Jen head of IT. She clearly knows nothing about IT, just as Denholm knows nothing about, well… anything, his business least of all.
The IT Crowd set.
The core trio of Roy, Moss and Jen, played by Chris O’Dowd, Richard Ayoade and Katherine Parkinson, are great. And the subterranean mise en scene , the IT dungeon, is terrific. But, like the whole show, it’s a peculiar collision of fantasy and reality in that absurdist vein Graham Linehan found fame with, via Father Ted.
Roy, Moss and Jen.
Father Ted is, or was, properly bonkers. Who’d have thought a show about the insane antics in a remote Godforsaken parochial house could make such great and successful TV comedy? By comparison The IT Crowd, like its subject, is a bit more obvious, mundane, humdrum… all that kind of stuff. But, in a funny old way, that’s a strength of the show; it’s more immediately relatable.
This isn’t going to be a full synopsis of the entire show. Far from it! I’m just registering my enjoyment.
I have to say I preferred Chris Morris, as Reynholm Sr, to Matt Berry, as Reynholm Jr. And I was sorry – although I laughed lustily – to see Denholm taking that infamous executive leap. Both Morris and Berry are portraying ludicrous caricature characters. But Berry seems to always be exactly the same, whatever I see him in, from Garth Marenghi’s Dark Place to Toast. Morris has more range, and is just funnier.
Down in the IT dungeon, Roy is almost the straight guy. Although, having said that, Jen is also almost the straight gal. Although they both goof aplenty, there’s something almost distressingly ‘normal’ about them. The character that really makes the show work, when it does work (and it doesn’t always), for me at any rate, is Ayaode’s Maurice.
One Mozza I can stomach.
And yet I think Moss is flawed. And I’m not meaning just in the obvious ways in which his character is supposed to be flawed. Perhaps the entire show is? It’s often funny, sometimes very funny. But it’s also a bit rote. And Richard Ayaode, as much as I love his whole style, is nearer Matt Berry than Chris Morris, in terms of range. Nonetheless, in Moss The IT Crowd has a character I can love, albeit in a muted slightly awkward manner.
I wonder if the Linehan factor has anything to do with the ‘great but also slightly disappointing’ feeling I’m trying to get at? Whilst I love Father Ted, I think he was totally the wrong guy for Count Arthur Strong (the radio and stage versions of Strong are so much better!).
Anyway, it’s nice to find relatively recent TV that I can bear to watch (there’s so little of it!). Especially so when it can supply much needed chuckles in what are, in many respects – Covid, Brexit, never-ending Tory misrule, the ‘cost of living crisis’, etc. – very trying times.
Ah, Denholm Reynholm, a true Captain of Industry.Oh, and thingy from Boosh and baking stuff is in a few episodes.
Some time later… Well, I’m nearing the end of a second run through the entire series, and, whilst I think it started out pretty strong, towards the end it was fizzling. Father Ted is Linehan’s best work, as far as I’m aware/concerned. The IT Crowd has its moments, but ultimately is too weak and inconsistent.
Well… what the absolute feck was that!? Just heard a very long supersonic jet or rocket type rumble in the skies overhead. And it’s coming back…
The main episode seemed to go on for ages, maybe five, or even 10-15 minutes. Oddly and disconcertingly long. Not just a simple fighter jet flyover type deal. And it seemed to get closer, move away, get closer, move away, return… it was really quite alarming!
It sounded like what I imagine an incoming nuclear missile might sound like, or a huge jumbo jet, heading for an unscheduled crash landing!
The set of the 2005 War Of The Worlds movie jet crash scene.
It was so scary I got dressed – I was still in bed – and went outside, with a mind to try and film a bit. But my iPhone memory was full, so I wasn’t able to do so… dammit! I noticed our neighbour was also outside, looking worriedly skywards.
I googled ‘just now roaring in the skies overhead march cambs’, and a gov.uk/MOD low-flying complaints website came up, top of the search results.
There was a tel. number, which I rang, only to be told ‘nobody home, please email’! So I emailed. And I await a reply. This isn’t the first time this has happened recently. But it was the loudest, longest, and most discombobulating!
It’s the sort of evil apocalyptic sound that I imagine would precede nuclear annihilation. And it makes one think, would that be it!? No warning!? A terrible ‘tearing the heavens in twain’ roaring, and then either evaporation type obliteration, or poss’ much worse? Very scary!
UPDATE: I got a reply to my email…
Thank you for your e mail regarding aircraft noise on 8 September 2022 in the March area.
I have checked our records for the date and time you quoted, however, this does not indicate any military jets operating at low level in the area. The disturbance on this occasion may be attributable to military aircraft operating at medium or high level, which for fast jets can range between 2,000 to 30,000+ feet Above Ground Level.
I can advise that some military aircraft activity does take place over the sea, but weather conditions are not always suitable and due to its flat and featureless nature the sea does not always provide the realistic environment necessary for aircrew essential training needs.
The Ministry of Defence (MoD) takes its responsibility to the public very seriously indeed and would prefer not to cause any disturbance to those on the ground. Unfortunately, there are no uninhabited areas of the UK large enough to cater for essential training needs. I hope you will understand that the MoD would be failing in its duty if it did not ensure that aircrew were fully competent in a wide range of flying skills and tactics before they deployed on operations.
I apologise for any concern caused on this occasion.
Regards, Sarah Hodgkinson
Low Flying Complaints & Enquiries Unit, SWK-lowflying@mod.gov.uk
Well… that was a typical government response: opaque and ultimately more confusing than illuminating!
What would the sound be just prior to this?
Whilst looking for images for this post I found this, an article on sound used as a weapon, in which the author of the article, (?), says, of fighter jets flying overhead, “their unnatural volume and the coarse noise of their engines triggered a palpable and overpowering sense of unease and distress.” Too damn right!
And then I found this, a more local/recent piece, in which they discuss exactly what I was thinking about:
“The sight and sound of heavy bombers and fighter jets in the skies above the UK have taken on an extra resonance following Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Urkaine. Military training flights regularly take place but conflicts and tensions mean more attention than normal is being taken of these RAF and USAF missions.
Across the country, people have been reporting planes such as B52 bombers and F-35B and F-16 fighter jets. Bases being used include RAF Fairford in Gloucestershire, RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire, RAF Lakenheath in Suffolk and RAF Marham in Norfolk.”
And since first posting this, I’ve heard similar sounds on numerous occasions. Although as yet none quite as long, loud, and frankly terrifying, as those that prompted this post. Strange and scary times
Out of the blue, after a long of spell of excellent sleep, I’ve just had a pretty awful night of insomnia. And, ironically, I’ve finally gotten around to starting to read Robin Walker’s Why We Sleep. So I’m more than usually aware of how bad losing sleep is!
Anyway, after several hours of just lying in bed, fully awake, I figured I might as well do something, since I wasn’t apparently able to sleep. So I wrote a bit, for the blog, and I listened to 1969 (and some other stuff, inc. Mizrab), by Gabor Szabo. Holy guacamole, 1969 is really good!
A glowing accolade from Leonard Feather!
Before getting into it track by track, here’s the track list and personnel credits:
Dear Prudence Sealed With A Kiss Both Sides Now Walk Away Renee You Won’t See Me Michael From Mountains Stormy In My life I’ve Just Seen A Face Until It’s Time For You To Go Somewhere I Belong
Gabor Szabo - guitar Francois Vaz - guitar Mike Melvoin - keys Louis Kabok - bass Randy Cierly-Sterling - bass Jim Keltner - drums/percussion George Ricci- cello Gary McFarland - arranger
It’s pretty stunning to think that stuff like this is how drummer Jim Keltner, who I first grew to know and love through his long term associations with Bob Dylan and Ry Cooder, got started! And everything about the whole musical package is so great I want to know more about all concerned. Didn’t keys man Mike Melvoin play with Tom Waits, on Nighthawks At The Diner?
Some of the other names – Francois Vaz, Louis Kabok – are new(-ish) to me. Gary McFarland I’d heard of. Along with promoter Norman Schwartz and Cal Tjader, Szabo and McFarland founded the short lived Skye Records, for which label this absolute gem was recorded.
They used the Isle of Skye’s coat of arms for the label!
Having dipped into this album frequently recently, I’d still not listened the whole way through. That is until my recent bouts of insomnia. The night before last, during which I didn’t sleep at all – until I caught up a bit during the day* – I listened to the entirety of 1969 in one sitting (or, to be more accurate, one laying!).
* As a teacher on school holidays I’m lucky I can do this!
The version I listened to, a full-album rip on YouTube, doesn’t have the best audio quality. I’m hoping when I get this on CD it’ll be better! This YouTube version is rather muddy, sonically. And most Gabor Szabo stuff is immaculately recorded. But that aside, the quality of the performances is superlative.
Still from film or video of Szabo with Kabok.
The group is an interesting one, as all the players have jazz chops, but are also very comfortable with and attuned to pop/rock sensibilities, such that they can play with a stripped down minimalism most out and out jazzbos very rarely manage. Although Gary McFarland isn’t a player here, it strikes me that perhaps his arranging and producing skills are instrumental in achieving the sounds and the, er… vibes?
Gary McFarland, feelin’ those vibes!
I’m going to come right out and say it; I do believe this one of Szabo’s greatest records. Oft times it’s belittled (albeit not as much as his late ‘70s stuff; Doug Payne calls much of Faces ‘disco trash’!), particularly by those who prefer his more overtly trad’ jazziness. (I don’t mean Dixie!).
Part of the charm of this particular album is the material. There are four Beatles numbers, two of which – You Won’t See Me and In My Life – are from Rubber Soul (possibly my favourite Fab Four album?). And, as well as several more obscure choices, there’s the oft-covered Stormy.
But what’s this? Two Joni tunes!? Both Sides Now has been covered umpteen times. And Szabo’s version is brilliant. But Michael From Mountains? This latter ranks with Mark Murphy’s Barangrill, and Don Sebesky’s Song To A Seagull. Simply having the good taste to pick such wonderful material, never mind the required skill to make such a unique artists’ unusual music one’s own… fab!
Ultimately 1969 hits that eargasmic G-spot for me: musical perfection. Everything is just so. You could try to label it: it’s partly jazz, partly pop, partly rock, bossa, easy-listening, psych, etc. The joy and the magic lies precisely in rendering such categorisation efforts totally footile*. It’s just great music.
* The Fenland yod-dropping way!
I’d love to get this Cherry Red comp.
Whilst writing this post I discovered that Cherry Red did a reissue/compilation called Sketch For Summer, which focussed on McFarland and Szabo’s richly creative partnership. Like almost all the music I’m getting interested in lately, this is OOP and hard/expensive to find! It only covers their 1964-‘68 collaborations, so nothing off 1969 is included. Interesting to see two tracks are with Brazilian maestro Tom Jobim!
But to round off, back to ‘69! The album starts with Dear Prudence, and ends with the only Sabor original in this particular set, Somewhere I Belong. I’m giving this disc my rare accolade of six stars. That’s a bit like Spinal Tap’s amps going up to eleven: the normal range is 0-5 stars. Only the crème de la crème attain the hallowed six!
Ok, I love Steve Bell. I think his art is superb, and I think his political satire is and has long been very prescient. Both funny and cuttingly near the bone. Might it cause offence? Of course. And so it should.
Is this image – cropped above, in full below – the same as Nazi imagery of Jews? Personally I really don’t think so. Is the core point of it to demonise Patel on ethnic/racial grounds? Of course not!
I will admit that it’s a long way from surprising, re the stink it kicked up. And it’s no surprise to hear that it’s those on the right, including religious folk, invoking ‘hate crime’ censorship of a left wing view they dislike.
Broader context: Patel and Johnson are ‘bullish’.
Indoctrinated hordes of right wingers, of all ethnicities, might believe Jeremy Corbyn is a 50/50 blend of Stalin and Hitler. And that’s the kind of ludicrous fantasy propaganda modern satire ought to be able to help fight.
It’ll mostly be people willing to believe in that weaponising of ‘anti-semitism’, in what very clearly was a character assassination witch-hunt, which aimed at – and succeeded in – smearing a very anti-racist man* as the very thing he so frequently campaigned against, who are getting so upset by Bell’s cartoon.
Gillray’s fabulous talent served the British establishment.And was used to mock the French Revolution.
But, rather ironically, one of the greatest of all English print cartoon satirists, Gillray, was actually – for the most part – paid to produce satire that served the ruling Tory elite.
Bell’s homage to Gillray’s ‘Plum Pudding in Danger’.And his risqué reworking of Gillray’s ‘Fashionable Contrasts’
Bell has tipped his metaphorical tile to his antecedent and occasional inspiration, Gillray, sometimes reworking his imagery. I won’t say reworking ‘his ideas’, as usually Gillray, unlike Bell – the roles of artists have evolved! – was for the most part drawing to order, for his Tory patrons. And, just like modern Tories, Gillray’s paymasters abandoned him, after his years of sterling service, to poverty and insanity in the end.
One big C and one little C.Bell lampoons the downfall of two Cs.
It seems, in a way that has echoes of Clarkson getting sacked by the BBC – not remotely similar in many ways, and yet… – that the Guardian, like the BBC, is willing to lose a ‘long-term asset’ in order to ‘move with the times’. Whether either decision was primarily based on ethical concerns or not… who knows? But in our venal times one tends to be sceptical!
Who is really playing the populist racist card, Patel or Bell?
In the above ‘Female Enoch’ cartoon, Bell nicely captures a far more odious, real and deep rooted form of racism, as practiced by a woman ‘of colour’ in power. Just because she’s female, and of non-white ethnicity, doesn’t absolve her from the possibilities of racism, or even sexism, or indeed any -ism.
Indeed, as Spitting Image lampoon, in one (or more) of their recent satirical episodes, having members of ‘out groups’ or traditionally discriminated against ‘minority groups’ in positions of power, can help the ruling elite camouflage their oppression of the groups these favoured individuals appear to belong to.
Thatcher did precious little for women’s rights, aside from the mere fact of being a woman in a traditionally male role. And to take the idea further, into the kind of fascist mud-slinging some on the right have the temerity to invoke, the Nazi’s loved to use favoured individuals from their victimised out-groups’ to lord it over the oppressed masses, infamously using fellow Jews as concentration camp Kapos.
I fear Patel and her Tory ilk, not for her ethnicity, but for the self-serving moral vacuum that’s where a human heart or conscience ought to be, far more than Steve Bell, who I don’t believe to be racist.
Would those attacking Bell’s satire approve of his being gunned down by an offended Hindu fundamentalist? And say he deserved such a fate? I don’t think such a thing is as likely as an equivalent scenario involving an enraged Muslim, in response to an image such as that below:
I’m with art critic Waldemar Januszczak, who tweeted thus in response to news of the Guardian not renewing Bell’s contract: ‘I worked with Steve Bell when I was at The Guardian. He was and is an evil genius. Anyone who thinks it’s a good idea to get rid of Steve Bell is a pitiful thinker. Pitiful.’ Amen to that.
Bell himself has said that his non-renewal at The Grauniad is, as far as he’s aware/concerned, due to economics, not ‘effin’ Patel’… or words to that effect!
* I’m no Corbynista, and I don’t claim he’s a paragon of perfection. l
Watched this during another insomniac wee small hours spell. A spoof documentary, or, as they call ‘em now, a mockumentary, FUBAR follows a film-maker, Farrel Mitchner (Gordon Skilling) who is himself following two white-trash stoner headbangers, Terry and Dean.
Set in suburban Alberta, Canada, it takes a while to get used to, and was filmed on a Canon XL1, giving it a very lo-fi verité flavour. With a core cast and no script, the movie was largely improvised, some scenes involving ‘John Q Public’, unaware it was actually a work of fiction. Apparently the fist-fighters, for example, were genuine.
Terry (Dave Lawrence, who made the film) and Dean (Paul Spence) are two young long-haired rocker slobs. Continually shotgunning beers, smoking (fags or weed), and living on diets of appalling junk food. They’re dumb, foul-mouthed and pretty nihilistic.
At first I found myself thinking, what’s the point of this wallowing in the kind of hippy dream turned sour that has created zombie hordes across the US, and – this is set in Canada – North (and no doubt also South) America?
Dean and Terry.
It was horrifyingly salutory to see how large a part of the MAGA/Trumpite crowds of Jan 6th were longhaired losers looking very like the two chief protagonists of this film. But there’s also everyone else; the lads’ families, partners, friends, co-workers/employers, etc. And Farrel and his documentary crew.
All these others, inc Troy/Tron, a former party animal gone ‘square’, are the ‘straight’ world. Dean’s mom [sic!] recites a poem, ‘Woman Is A Danger Cat’, by her son, whilst he plays his sensitive acoustic ballad ‘Rock & Roll Is My Guitar’. Terry’s employer (or is it Dean’s? I forget!) corrects his delusional embellishments on his professional responsibilities. And Troy’s partner tells it like it is, regarding women and their effects on slacker slobs!
In some ways this film, as awful as it is in many ways, has a resonance for me, in that I lived for a while a life a little bit like theirs. The ubiquity of ‘cuss-words’, the aimless boozing and smoking, and the ‘us against the straight world’, were all part of my early twenties hippy-dream-gone-sour interlude.
But whilst we were naive, we were never so moronically dumb, nor so grotesquely ignorant and hypocritical. These dolts love to trash stuff, leaving a trail of litter in their wake (‘the park ranger’s’ll clear it up’). This particular brand of white trash rocker types seem peculiarly American (or Canadian; I have Canadian ancestry*) in their boorishness. From their ‘hockey mullet’ hairdos (very obviously wigs!) to their mix of heavy metal and ‘sportswear’ clobber.
* My grandfather and one of my uncles were Canadians. I still have relatives over there.
Hangin’ out on the stoop…
But, not unexpectedly, several threads are introduced to being a bit more depth. First we learn Dean has testicular cancer. And is kind of in denial. And second, the interactions between Farrel and his crew and their subjects lead to… well, we’ll get to that.
The whole cancer thread is, kind of ironically and paradoxically, the saviour of this movie, which otherwise might’ve been a pointless exercise in Ali-G’esque social satire. In the end it’s awkwardly straight Farrel whose reaction to Dean’s medical emergency catalyses the catatonic headbanger into taking appropriate action, with some chiding from his ex, Trixie.
Farrel starts out mostly off camera, but gradually becomes a more and more key character, until… blam! He’s gone. I won’t say more, not wanting to spoil it too much for those who haven’t seen this. But everything around this crucial episode is very well done, and, like the revelation re Dean’s monster nut, it elevates an otherwise mundane movie, bringing pathos and a degree of subtler human observation that’s actually both well observed and quite moving.
The film was a success at Sundance, and has spawned a sequel, Fubar II, a TV series, and some sort of online offshoots. So it’s done well for a super low budget indie affair (financed by a maxed out credit card and a parental re-mortgage; phew… that could’ve ended very badly!).
Dude’s got style…
It’s very sad to say this, but the film’s low key trashiness, and the imbecilic Everyman types it portrays, make it perfect for the efflorescence of serf-culture that’s been so assiduously cultivated by the evil machinations of recent populist governments – Trump in the US, BoJo in the UK – in the so called developed Western world.
I genuinely didn’t know which way it’d go at the end. And it was nice the way it did turn out. But maybe that’ll be the aspect that makes it so very much a work of fiction? And perhaps the rise of the kind of cultures it documents in the real world won’t turn out to have such a happy ending?
Far from essential or classic, nonetheless, not too shabby. And, whilst I’m not sure I’d say ‘worth watching’, it wasn’t a total waste of time.
AI generated – I think? – by the lyrics of the ‘Polygondwanaland trilogy’, by King Gizzard & The Wizard Lizard.
I was all set to not even watch this. Then to dislike it… and now I’m bemused, as I really rather like a lot of aspects of the resulting ‘art’. And I’m intrigued as to how it’s done.
When I replaced the bath taps we inherited with the property with the shower mixer taps we now have – themselves now broken and in need of replacing (the new/replacement parts arrived today) – I took off the side of the bath housing, to access the plumbing.
That was ages (poss’ even years?) ago. And for a long time since we’ve had an open sided bath. And we started, inevitably, to stash stuff in the new space. We’re now being forced, economically, to consider letting our spare room again. So we’re having to address the rent-ability – or otherwise – of our home.
Relocated this. It needs a kick more paint!
Other bathroom bits ‘n’ pieces include: moving the home-made towel shelf, putting up three new little floating shelves, and moving out the metal shelving unit (that’ll most likely go in our new shed) trybat used to be by the radiator. The latter just accumulated clutter, and never really worked in the bathroom. Plus the humid conditions meant it got rusty!
Already full to overflowing!
These three floating shelves – pictured above and below – are useful Amazon Vine freebies. Not at all to my tastes aesthetically. But they do the job for now. And the job? Getting stuff up and off the window sill and the shelf next to the bath, all of which were overcrowded and really quite dizzz-gusting. So another small job is cleaning the vacated surfaces, and repainting where necessary.
Ought I to paint these little shelves?
Perhaps I should paint these three floaters? As much for mould-resistance and easy cleaning as to improve aesthetics.
I’ve also been making more little curtain pole hanging fittings, similar in style to some I made for the kitchen. I’ve made two so far, for the larger bathroom window. I need to make a good few more for elsewhere around the home, inc the smaller bathroom window, and – at Teresa’s request – for several draft-excluding curtains across a few doors.
Curtain pole support #1, left.
These were made from a batch of high quality marine-ply I got via Freecycle many, many moons ago. Useful stuff! Here they’re pictured having just been attached to the wall. Awaiting a few coats of oil-based high-gloss white paint.
I filled the screw-access holes on these with wooden plugs. Something I haven’t yet done with the similar pair in the kitchen. So that’s another job for the never-ending home/DIY list of tasks! I’d also like to embellish them all a bit, in a Victorian style. I have a few ideas for that!
Curtain pole support #2, right.
Teresa was a bit miffed with me for stopping her making some ordinary fabric curtains for the bathroom. but I think they need to be waterproof. Kitchen and bathroom curtains that ain’t waterproof or water-resistant/repellent quickly get mouldy and manky, and generally very dizzz-gusting!
In theory regular washing of said curtains might address this. But, 1) our washing machine (and now the plumbing to it, apparently), are jiggered, and 2) we hardly ever washed the kitchen curtain, with the result being it was mouldy and rank!
This arrived on Sunday. It’s a Japanese reissue, from a series of CTI re-releases; sadly the liner notes are Greek to me, so to speak.
Recorded at Rudy Van Gelder’s famous studio, in ‘72, it was the first of just three for Creed Taylor’s equally famous CTI label (the others being Rambler and Macho).
With a rhythm section of Bob James, Ron Carter, Ralph MacDonald, Billy Cobham and Jack DeJohnette, and horns that feature Hubert Laws and others, Szabo is supported by a stellar cast. The arrangements are by Bob James, and it’s all engineered by RVG.
What was side one was made up of the first two lengthy cuts, Mizrab and Thirteen, both Szabo originals. Side two develops the guitarist’s famously eclectic range in terms of other folk’s material, with It’s Going To Take Some Time, by Carole King, and Seals’ and Crofts’ Summer Breeze, sat either side of a Szabo take on a Shostakovich Concerto!
Pensive, and wide-collard, Szabo.
The album kicks off with Szabo original and titular Mizrab, Ron Carter’s opening bass figures conjuring an Arab-influenced exoticism suggested by the track’s name. Once it gets going, there are shades of modalism, and things even sound Metheny-esque occasionally.
The title track clocks in at just under ten minutes, and after Szabo’s own long solo, the rhythm section of Bob, Ron, Billy and Ralph really cook the groove in a deliciously early ‘70s jazz fusion vein, so very CTI!
It’s interesting hearing Cobham playing in a more restrained than usual manner! Which he does admirably, whilst still retaining his instantly recognisable touch and sound. Towards the end he ramps it up a bit, when taking a solo. Does he also slip out of sync? I’m friends with Ron Carter on FB. I might have to ask him about this!
The same group then tackle a second Szabo number, called Thirteen. This begins with Szabo’s and Ron duetting, showing what total masters of their instruments they are, in a fabulous interplay, before Cobham and co join (sans Ralph, poss’?), for an epic jam.
The exceedingly cool mr Ron Carter.
The main two chord vamp is just a semi-tone shift, again evoking eastern vibes. And, having introduced that term, I have to pause and remark on what an incredible vibes player Szabo is. Not vibraphone, obviously! But feel. And it’s clear that his vibesmanship is subtly but strongly steering the whole ensemble.
Also clocking in at near ten minutes (just over nine this time), the groove and feel are quite radically different ‘cause Bob James is playing acoustic piano, as opposed to the Fender Rhodes type electric of Mizrab.
Also worthy of note is that there’s quite clearly, on both Mizrab and Thirteen, a second guitar. But it’s Szabo overdubbing, rather than another player. Yet another sign of Gabor’s unusual and idiosyncratic take on contemporary jazz. Really quite something!
After the long epic intensity of the two tracks of ‘side one’ cone the three shorter tracks that formerly comprised ‘side two’. These are where the strings and horns come in, with that rich, lush and full CTI production feel.
Creed Taylor.
Carole King’s It’s Going To Take Some Time feels aptly light, and pop-folk, after the jazzy intensity of ‘side one’. But despite the expansion from quartet or quintet to a full on studio number with strings and horns, it’s still very Szabo, and sits happily with the foregoing material.
Things get a bit more ambitious with Concerto #2, which starts out like a small to medium chamber orchestra, and is more Shostakovich/classical – naturally – than what has preceded it. When it transitions from orchestra to jazz ensemble a pronounced 6/8 feel emerges, and the much lighter touch of Jack DeJohnette on drums adds to the change of feel.
I’m not always convinced by jazz meets classical experiments (Garbarek with The Tallis Scholars was awful!). But I quite like what Szabo et al cook up here. Interestingly it starts out classical, goes all jazz, and then the two start to blend and merge. This is an approach Don Sebesky explores on another excellent CTI recording, Giant Box, albeit with a rather overall effect.
And so we come to the fifth and final track, the Seals and Croft classic, Summer Breeze, which I first grew to know and love via The Isley Bros version. Cobham is back in his throne, and this track returns the entire recording to a kind of sonic and spiritual home/centre, that perfectly balances all the disparate yet homogenised elements that all the players and the material have brought to the party.
Szabo, on the cover of Down Beat, June, ‘72.
There’s plenty of strings and horns, beautifully arranged by James, a middle soloing section over a cleverly constructed riff (Carter and Cobham expertly driving the groove, with a little ‘back to front’ but if rhythmic play thrown in) from the song, all bookended with the melodic themes of the original composition, beautifully played by a truly stellar cast of musicians, fabulously recorded by Rudy, delivering another gem for Creed. Result!
Apparently this movie, called Rising, was a USC (University of Southern California) master’s project, by a certain Larry Bock.
I can’t find out much about Bock (was he any relation to Dick Bock? Was he the same Lawrence Bock that became an entrepreneur?), which is a pity.
The film itself is a real gem, mixing stills, live footage, interviews with Szabo and associates (inc. Leonard Feather, and other notable jazzniks). One minor criticism is that it’d have been nice to see less cutting between pieces and more unbroken music.
Also worth checking out is this Facebook page dedicated to Gabor Szabo and his music:
When I first posted this, I’d only watched the first half of the film. Watching the remainder drove home a few salutory reminders about the artistic and/or musical life. Szabo is very candid, and quite humble, almost to the point of being a little self effacing. Saying at one point ‘maybe that’s how [through music, esp’ live performance] I compensate for my shortcomings as an individual‘!
It’s also clear that despite how we as listeners might perceive his art/music as an ‘end product’ (a horrid phrase!) that’s often perfect, or damn near, for him it was always a process of disappointment, whilst striving towards a seemingly unattainable goal. I recognise that feeling!
