Tribeca ’24: They All Came Out to Montreux

It hardly seems fair. The biggest jazz fests regularly invite non-jazz artists, but how many jazz musicians get the same hospitality from rock and pop fests, like Lollapalooza? The Montreux Jazz Festival is a prime example. Over the years, it has regularly hosted big name stars from a host of genres. That is not necessarily good or bad, but it something jazz fans are keenly aware of. They still programmed a lot of amazing jazz sets, including many that were immortalized as absolutely classic live albums recorded by the likes of Bill Evans and Keith Jarrett. Oliver Murray profiles the fest from all musical perspectives in the feature-documentary cut of They All Came Out to Montreux, which screens at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Montreux was (and largely remains) a wealthy, but largely sleepy Swiss town perched on the shore of Lake Geneva. Lifelong festival director Claude Nobs founded the festival as a project of the municipal tourism office—and it worked. Under Nobs’ leadership, often in close, unofficial consultation with Nesuhi Ertegun of Atlantic Records, Montreux grew into the pre-eminent European music festival, encompassing just about every musical style (but there was always a solid helping of jazz on the program).

Thanks in part to Ertegun’s help, Montreux’s international reputation spread through the live albums recorded at the festival, including Bill Evans’ Grammy-winning Live at Montreux. Arguably, the most important might have been Les McCann and Eddie Harris’s Swiss Movement. Appropriately, Murray incorporates considerable live footage of their classic performance of “Compared to What,” but does not fully explain what a popular crossover hit it became in 1969 (at the time, Swiss Movement was like Kind of Blue—one of the few jazz records non-jazz fans might own).

Murray obviously has a thorough grounding in jazz (he previously helmed Ronnie’s, a documentary about the legendary London jazz club) and he secured interviews with real deal jazz authorities, like the late George Wein (founder of the Newport Jazz Festival), the late Michael Cuscuna (producer for Blue Note and Mosaic Records), and Quincy Jones, who needs no introduction.

Of course, there are a lot of styles of music documented in Murray’s doc, which accurately reflects the character of the festival. Some of it was also pretty significant too. For instance, Queen and David Bowie recorded “Under Pressure” at the Montreux studio while they were both appearing at the festival. Nevertheless, the lengths he takes to de-center jazz might just start to vex some jazz supporters.

Yet, there is no denying the value of the archive Nobs created by videotaping every performance (just look at Nina Simone, Wayne Shorter, David Sanborn, Weather Report, Ray Charles, and Quincy Jones, all “Live at Montreux”). It also left a wealth of material for Murray to excerpt. Almost every image in the film either came from the Montreux library or Swiss television.

Wayne Shorter at Montreux

Wayne Shorter
Live at Montreux 1996
Eagle Rock Entertainment

Wayne Shorter is jazz history. Since coming to prominence in the 1960’s, he has either led or been a vital member of the groups which defined their respected eras. Arguably second only to fellow tenor titan Sonny Rollins as the top drawing concert artist in jazz, Shorter achieved both critical acclaim and broad popularity (certainly by jazz standards), ensuring a large and appreciative audience for his 1996 Montreux Jazz Festival concert, which was recently released as part of the Live at Montreux DVD series.

As the one-time music director for Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and the tenor foil in Miles Davis so-called “Second Great Quintet,” Shorter initially made his name during the Hardbop period. His fame exploded during the fusion years as a key member of the jazz-rock super-group Weather Report. Currently, he leads his own acoustic quintet, featuring innovative younger sidemen, like drummer Brian Blade. However, his 1996 quintet was a more transitional group, bridging Shorter’s fusion and advanced post-bop periods.

A bit of that pop-influence can be heard in the synthesizer opening to “On the Milky Way Express,” but the tenor sound is pure Shorter. Weather Report alumnus Alphonso Johnson also brings a funky groove on electric bass, but the tune retains a straight-ahead mainstream jazz spirit, with keyboard-player Jim Beard largely sticking to the acoustic piano.

If not a classic Shorter ensemble, the ’96 group was an intriguing combo. Shorter had appeared on Beard’s Song of the Sun, an interesting CD/video project recorded for Creed Taylor in the waning years of the CTI label. Equally adept on keyboards and piano, he contributes some pithy acoustic solo statements and adds some effective colors on the synthesizer. Guitarist David Gilmore (not to be confused with Pink Floyd’s Gilmour) also brings a distinctly rock-influenced sound to the quintet, nicely showcased on “At the Fair.”

While Shorter briefly introduces “Fair’s” catchy vamp with the soprano, he features it throughout the explicitly jazz-rock (emphasis on rock) “Over Shadow Hill Way,” highlighted by blistering work from Gilmore and a power drum solo Rodney Holmes. Shorter also concludes the set with the soprano on the short but insistent “Endanger Species.”

While much of Shorter’s 1996 set sounds as appropriate for a stadium show as a jazz fest, several performances from his prior Montreux appearances are included as bonus tracks that might actually appeal more to his considerable acoustic fan-base. Playing with Herbie Hancock, his colleague from the Davis Quintet and former label-mate from the Blue Note glory years, Shorter dominates their robust rendition of his classic “Footprints.” Hancock and bassist Stanley Clarke then go electric for another take on “Milky Way,” which makes interesting comparative listening.

Perhaps the highlight of the bonus program (and even the DVD) is a show-stopping version of “Pinocchio,” playfully introduced by Shorter’s Disney-inspired quotations. Part of a 1992 Miles Davis tribute program reuniting Shorter and Hancock with Quintet bassist Ron Carter and drummer Tony Williams, the playing is consistently inspired throughout.

Much like his former boss Miles Davis, Shorter has always been in the thick of jazz’s latest developments. Now an elder statesman of the music, the 1996 Montreux set offers a nice opportunity to hear an overlooked period in his storied career.

Sanborn at Montreux

Live at Montreux 1984
By David Sanborn

Eagle Rock Entertainment

Millions of Americans know David Sanborn and his alto sound from his regular sitting-in gig on the Letterman show. Some either love him or hate for his success on lite “smooth jazz” radio, a label (epithet) he himself eschews. Yet, Sanborn has truly legit jazz credits, having worked with Gil Evans and recorded on Tim Berne’s tribute to avant-garde altoist Julius Hemphill, which is about as heavy as it gets. As a result, he is sort of a giant musical Rohrschach. Such is also the case with his live set Montreux 1984, now available on DVD, which includes elements of funk, rock, and Fusion jazz.

As the title-track to a pivotal record in his career, “Hideway” was a natural set opener. It starts out as an up-tempo funk workout, but takes on a distinctly rock-n-roll hue thanks to the rock-oriented solo from Hiram Bullock, the jazz-funk guitarist who passed on far too young only last year. It certainly is not a performance that would come with the Marsalis seal of approval, but it hardly qualifies as “smooth” jazz.

Sanborn is instantly recognizable on ballads, like “Straight to the Heart.” There is no denying his expressiveness here, but the keyboard sweetening effects are the sort of cloying trappings which have found their way into some of his recordings, making it difficult for purists to embrace him. However, the stripped down arrangement of “Autumn Leaves,” featuring guest vocalist Rickie Lee Jones, is about as straight ahead as it gets, and features another lyrical solo from the leader. Larry Willis, an excellent bop-based jazz pianist best-known for his stint with Blood Sweat & Tears, matches Sanborn’s lyricism with his own eloquent solo. (He also has a nice feature solo later in the set.) Sanborn has hired some well-respected jazz musicians for his bands. In addition to Willis, bonus tracks from Sanborn’s 1982 Montreux set include “Lotus Blossom,” a lovely feature for vibraphonist Mike Mainieri.

Sanborn also has tremendous facility with the alto’s upper register, which can be heard throughout his 1984 set, particularly on tunes like “Morning Salsa” and “Heart.” That combination of peeling high notes, funky rhythms, and warmly tender power ballads suggests Sanborn might as easily be considered a rock musician (in the best sense) as a jazz artist. Arguably, both contexts can be readily heard through the 1984 set, and Sanborn has recorded extensively in each genre.

Sanborn really has a signature sound and his Montreux sets are certainly upbeat, funky affairs. His 1984 set is sure to appeal to his many fans, and includes some legit solo statements from him and Willis. New Yorkers can also hear him live in-person this week during Sanborn’s stand at the Blue Note, beginning tonight through Sunday (2/22).

Tribute to the Sparrow

A Tribute to Edith Piaf
Live at Montreux 2004
Eagle Eye Media

For some, Edith Piaf is associated with drug addiction, prostitution, and the criminal element of the Parisian red-light district, and that is just how her fans remember her. Those less devoted to the chanteuse perceive her time during the German occupation to be a little too comfortable for comfort. All of which frankly reinforces her status as a French icon. To celebrate her legacy, Claude Nobs assembled a diverse group of vocalists for an engaging Tribute to Edith Piaf at the 2004 Montreux Jazz Festival (not tied into any particularly significant anniversary in her career).

The music of the Piaf tribute blends jazz with the cabaret French chanson music Piaf mastered. Backing up the rotating cast of vocalists is quartet of French jazz musicians led by Baptiste Trotignon on piano, with André Ceccarelli on drums, Marc Berthoumieux on accordion, and bassist Remi Vignola. While not well known in America, all have played extensively in Europe, particularly Ceccarelli, who has frequently recorded as a leader and as a sideman with artists like Dee Dee Bridgewater, Biréli Lagrène, and Martial Solal. They start the set with two instrumentals, including “Under the Paris Sky,” a sophisticated swinger featuring Berthoumieux’s accordion, nicely capturing the late-night café vibe of Piaf’s milieu.

Oddly, the first vocalist to pay tribute to the chanteuse is a man, Swiss cabaret and theater performer Michael von de Heide (keep any unkind stereotypes to yourself), who does wring a lot of drama out of “Mon Dieu.” Ute Lemper follows in what was probably a programming error. Her “L’Accordeoniste” is a killer that swings hard and could have easily been the climatic number. Throughout her mini-set she shows the affinity between Piaf songbook and the Weill lieder for which she is known.

A nice change of pace comes in Barbara Morrison’s “Autumn Leaves,” an unabashedly jazz rendition, with Trotignon getting a nice solo blow. Morrison has an appealing voice, which the musicians visibly respond to. Piaf preferred Johnny Mercer’s lyrics adapted from Jacque Prevert’s original French, so it is the only English heard in the concert.

Evidently, singer-actress Catherine Ringer’s credits include French adult films and a Godard picture, which arguably makes her a fitting participant for an evening of Piaf. Interestingly, she gravitated to Piaf’s earthier repertoire, like the sailor’s tune “C’est a Hambourg” and “Poor John’s Ballad,” which has the air of a good drinking song. As probably the biggest star, Angelique Kidjo gets the final mini-set, the highlight being “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien,” a nice combination of Kidjo’s powerful voice and the elegantly romantic sound of Berthoumieux’s accordion. “La Vie En Rose,” Piaf’s signature tune, is not heard until the collective finale performance, which unfortunately dilutes its impact.

Obviously, Tribute is a very French affair. Though a bit uneven, it has some very entertaining performances, even for someone who did not come in brimming with love for Piaf.

Q50

50 Years in Music—Live at Montreux
By Quincy Jones & Friends
Eagle Eye Media

Lionel Hampton certainly had an eye for talent. The orchestra he took to Europe included a trumpet section of future jazz greats Clifford Brown, Art Farmer, and Quincy Jones. Of course, Jones would find his calling not as an instrumentalist, but as an arranger and composer. In 1996, having made his living in music for fifty years, Jones and Montreux impresario Clause Nobs put together 50 Years in Music, an all-star concert celebration now available on DVD.

Jones starts with his first feature in the Hampton band, “Kingfish,” as well as “Stockholm Sweetenin,” with the Clifford Brown solo orchestrated for the full band. While there are many big name soloists, Australian trumpeter James Morrison, relatively unheralded in the States, often takes solo honors, as on “Kingfish,” where he outshines smooth practitioner Gerald Albright.

Jones has always sailed between genres at will, and here he brings a diverse cast into a big band setting. While Albright takes a while to acclimate to this context, David Sanborn (a veteran of many CTI sessions early in his career) fares much better, to his credit. On the ballad “The Midnight Sun Will Never Set” his solo is warm and gentle, but not sappy.

As a producer, Jones has worked with hall of fame vocalists. Recent Grammy winner Patti Austin swings the band nicely on standards like “Perdido” and “Shiny Stockings.” Guests from the pop world have more mixed results. Mick Hucknall of Simply Red, looking tragically British at times, just can not get out of Ray Charles’ shadow on “In the Heat of the Night.”

Conversely, Chaka Khan (not surprisingly), sounds perfect on tunes like “Miss Celie’s Blues” and “Dirty Dozens,” both from The Color Purple. She also lends her voice to “Walking in Space,” an arrangement which actually inspires Albright’s best jazz solo of the night.

Without doubt, the most effective guest is Toots Thielemans, the jazz harmonica legend, who brings his haunting sound to Ivan Lins’ “Septembro” and “Grace Notes,” the theme Jones wrote for the 1984 Olympics (I’ll hold my peace on the 2008 Games). (The least effective is Phil Collins, who just does not cut it as a big band vocalist, despite his declared ambitions.)

50 Years has quite a bit loaded onto one disk. The concert clocks in just over two hours, and there is another ten minutes of Jones and Nobs interview segments from a masterclass. Throughout the concert, the big band, including Morrison and members of Northern Illinois Jazz Band do the master proud. Like Jones’ career, not every selection is perfect, but in its entirety, it is pretty impressive.

25 Years of Jarrett Standards

My Foolish Heart: Live at Montreux 2-CD
Setting Standards: New York Sessions 3-CD
Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock, Jack DeJohnette
ECM Records

As celebrated as Keith Jarrett’s solo work (like the bestselling Köln Concert) has been, the so-called Standards Trio is probably his admirers’ preferred format to hear his piano artistry. It was twenty-five years ago roughly that Jarrett went into a Manhattan studio with bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Jack DeJohnette for ECM’s Manfred Eicher. It worked out well for all involved. Recently, My Foolish Heart, a live set documenting the trio at the 2001 Montreux Jazz Festival was issued, and this month sees the release of Setting Standards, a special anniversary collection of the three albums worth of music recorded at that fateful 1983 session. Together these five disks make quite an impact, artistically and as indication of Jarrett’s esteem as a recording artist, so it seems fitting to address them together in one big value-sized review.

The Montreux disks kick off with a brisk take on the Miles Davis standard “Four.” Jarrett’s playing is particularly fluid and his trademark vocalizations are audible throughout. The title standard starts with an appropriately sensitive interpretation by Jarrett, until he briefly kicks up the tempo about halfway through, with Peacock and DeJohnette following totally in-synch. Peacock solos tastefully and DeJohnette’s drumming is supportive and complimentary.

“What’s New” is a nice example of the democratic nature of the trio, with Peacock getting ample room to solo, as Jarrett comps underneath him. From there they take “The Song is You” as a bebop burner propelled along by DeJohnette’s roiling percussion.

Heart’s first disk ends with one of three tunes Jarrett describes as “ragtime” numbers, designed to stun an under-appreciative Montreux audience. Actually, they are well within in the jazz idiom, but the tunes have a stride-like feel, and are indeed surprisingly jaunty. Jarrett has stirred controversy for laying beat-downs on inattentive audiences and distracting photographers (for which I refuse to fault him). However, his “ragtime” gambit completely won over any wavering listeners judging by the roar of applause ending disk one.

“Honeysuckle Rose” and “You Took Advantage of Me” kick off the second disk in the same spirit. “Advantage” is a particularly infectious swinger. Jarrett’s playing is marked by uncommon wit and verve here, aided by DeJohnette’s sly percussive accents. Again, Jarrett and company cover a wide range of standards, including Gerry Mulligan’s “Five Brothers,” which Jarrett opens up beautifully.

The trio can really lock-in on ballads, so not surprisingly that is what the two longest tracks of Heart are—namely the title song, and “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out to Dry.” In-the-moment inspiration is what drives their live performances, and they truly conjure up a fragile and melancholy mood in “Tears.” They fittingly conclude with another ballad, “Only the Lonely,” a truly fine example of the trio’s interplay. DeJohnette’s shimmering cymbals combine with Jarrett’s piano for a delicate conclusion that takes one’s breath away, before the familiar voice of Claude Nobs signals the end of the set. It wouldn’t be a live Montreux recording without him.

Setting Standards collects Standards Vol. 1 and II with Changes. Together it is a great bundle of music. More than the Montreux set, it shows their predilection for recasting standards in different spirits. “God Bless the Child” for instance, on Volume I, is taken at a faster tempo than usual, but is extremely soulful, and surprisingly groovy. It would be a good blindfold tune if not for Jarrett’s vocal accompaniment. Jarrett sounds like he is singing along with joy on “The Masquerade is Over,” that has none of the bittersweet quality commonly associated with the standard. “Meaning of the Blues” begins as blue as the blues get, but evolves into something else entirely, richly completing a disk that started something that would hold up well.

Standards Volume II begins with an elegantly swinging “So Tender,” Jarrett’s own slightly Latin standard from collaborations with Airto Moreira, and a bit of a ringer in the session. Again, the Standards Trio sets unconventional moods, as in “If I Should Lose You” which has little of the maudlin sentimentality usually associated with the song. Instead, there is an audible sense of joy—even an exultation of “whee” from Jarrett. Clearly, sensitive ballads continued to inspire, as on the closer, “I Fall in Love Too Easily,” but they still manage to take it in unexpected directions.

The final disk serves as the exception to the rule. Though recorded during the same period, Changes consists of three long original composition/improvisations, which gives a complete picture of the trio’s collective power. All three tracks are in fact quite melodic—elastic in form, but far from unstructured. “Flying Part 1” is fascinating look at their developing cohesion, as the intensity rises and falls. Peacock gives “Part 2” a greater sense of pulse, providing a launching pad for Jarrett’s explorations. The concluding “Prism” is more contemplative fare which Jarrett built his reputation.

Separately the 1983 releases have turned on a lot of Jarrett fans. Having them packaged together in Setting Standards represents a great value. Along with Heart, they account for five disks of Jarrett’s Standards Trio hitting the shelves in recent months, making a heavy statement about Jarrett’s prestige with his label and in the marketplace. It called for some extreme reviewing. It’s intense, but recommended—go ahead kids, try this at home.

(Note: Jarrett, Peacock and DeJohnette will perform at NJPAC Fe. 2nd. They will return to NY for a Carnegie Hall concert Oct. 18th.)

Genius at Montreux

Ray Charles Live at Montruex 1997
Eagle Eye Media

Ray Charles left the world many lasting images. He laid down the law for the Blues Brothers, worked with the Muppets, sang over the opening credits of In the Heat of the Night, hosted SNL, and was portrayed on film by Jamie Foxx. This is the genius of soul we’re talking about though, so more recordings and footage are always welcome, like the breezy concert performance now released as Live at Montreux 1997.

Charles was a total pro, but was not receptive to suggestions for deviations from his typical set, probably because that would imply other shows were less than special by comparison. So that night at the Montreux Jazz Festival, Charles hit with his band, like usual.

He opens up with a brassy, brisk workout in “I’ll Be Home (Sadie’s Tune),” but unfortunately the vocals are somewhat down in the audio mix. All is good though for the second tune, the bluesy “Busted.” The next song, “Georgia” needs no explanation, but it seems a little early in the set for such a crowd favorite. Despite performing the song hundreds of times a year, Charles still feels it, delivering the lyrics like nobody else could.

This was actually a pretty swinging Basie-like set, well suited to a jazz festival. Again, Charles keeps things in the brass bag for the Bix and Bing associated “Mississippi Mud.” He brings it down for the soulful “Just for a Thrill,” giving some solo space to David Hoffman’s tasteful flugelhorn. Although this band might not have the famous jazz improvisers of past outfits, like David “Fathead” Newman and Don Wilkerson, it is still a tight band, well drilled by musical director Al Jackson.

This is Ray Charles giving people what they want, like the funky, finger snapping “Scotia Blues” and, of course, the Raelettes. Since “Georgia” was earlier in the set, that means “What’d I Say” was the closer. Maybe Montreux 1997 was not the transcendent statement for the ages from Charles, but he did what he did. The man was cool.

Mahavishnu at Montreux

Mahavishnu Orchestra Live at Montreux
Eagle Eye Media

You know John McLaughlin must be cool—there’s a Miles Davis song named after him (on Bitches Brew, no less). The Mahavishnu Orchestra would be his post-Miles entry in the then booming fusion super-group market of the 1970’s. Fusing jazz, rock, and at times classical music, the Mahavishnu Orchestra would be very popular in the seventies, even as they morphed line-ups several times. However, the reconstituted Orchestra of the 1980’s comes front and center in the new DVD release Live at Montreux.

While the eighties Orchestra may not have been as acclaimed, and was more conventional in its instrumentation, it had the benefit of Bill Evans (the saxman, not the pianist or the New York weatherman) on reeds. An under-rated player fresh from a stint with Miles Davis himself, Evans was a great foil for McLaughlin. Some of the most rewarding elements of this release are the contributions from Evans it documents. The major drawbacks would its “eighties-ness,” represented by various electronic vocoders and guitar synthesizers.

There is indeed some great playing on the 1984 set, particularly by Evans. “Nostalgia’s” In a Silent Way vibe is aided by his sensitive soprano, a reed that his former boss Davis came to prefer during the later stages of his career. Evans also displays an up-tempo prowess on tenor during “East Side, West Side,” a burner featuring a funky keyboard solo from Mitchell Foreman, which segues into an affectionate cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely.” Unfortunately, here McLaughlin’s axe is outfitted with an of-its-time sounding Synclavier 2 synthesizer giving it a tinny keyboard sound.

That effect works best combined with Evans soprano on the affecting melody of “Clarendon Hills,” a feature for Evans, and also the city of his birth in Illinois. Again, it meshes well with Foreman’s keyboards in the Zawinul-esque intro to “Mitch Match,” a melodic, up-tempo jazz-rock flag-waver (in the “Birdland” tradition), which they reprise for their encore.

For many though, the real highlight will be the second disk presenting the MO live at Montreux in 1974. Of the six tunes on the disk, only two tracks have video (the other four audio tracks are accompanied by CGI solar eclipse montages), but as extended jams, together they clock in over thirty minutes. This is one of the preferred, classic MO ensembles, including Jean-Luc Ponty on violin, as well as Gayle Moran, performing the sort of wordless vocals that would mark her work with husband Chick Corea’s Return to Forever.

As presented here, the 1984 MO is more of a jazz-fusion combo, with an emphasis on solos and the 1974 MO was more of an ensemble, producing some exotic textures of sound. Having them together make for an interesting comparison study.

Montreux Tulls for Thee

Live at Montreux 2003
By Jethro Tull
Eagle Eye Media

There is some irony when Jethro Tull plays the odd jazz festival, which they have, despite being an avowed rock & roll band, albeit with blues roots. Front-man Ian Anderson has long acknowledged a debt to the one-of-a-kind jazz multi-instrumentalist Rahsaan Roland Kirk as a formative influence on his flute playing. That debt, which includes various over-blowing and vocalizing techniques, can be seen and heard in Jethro Tull’s Live at Montreux 2003 newly released on DVD and CD.

John Kruth interviewed Anderson for his Kirk bio Bright Moments, writing:

“He was a delightful chap, well spoken and quick witted. I wasn’t sure if he was paying homage or a karmic debt that many feel he owes Rahsaan. Either way his enthusiasm for Kirk’s music was clear.” (p. 191)

While Tull’s cover of “Serenade to a Cuckoo” did not make the Montreux set list, they did include some of their bluesier numbers. It’s not hard to hear the blues echoes in “Some Day the Sun Won’t Shine for You,” especially with Anderson introducing it on harmonica. If you can name any member of Tull besides Anderson, it is probably guitarist Martin Barre, who gets a guitar trio feature (sans Anderson) that comes respectably close to jazz on his brief but tasteful “Empty Café.”

There are some lingering resentments for Anderson’s commercial success capitalizing on Kirk’s innovations. Perhaps self-conscious when playing a somewhat jazz-oriented venue like Montreux as a result, Anderson joked:

“We’re going to play something that mingles a little jazz with a little bit of classical music. It’s actually pretty sleazy cocktail lounge jazz. The worst you ever heard in your life at the very worst Holiday Inn you ever stayed in.”

Anderson must have stayed on some trippy Holiday Inns, as it was Bach’s “Bouree,” long a staple of Tull’s book, that Anderson was introducing, one of several Tull hits mixed with less recognizable older songs and some new material. As they did at each Tull I have attended (yep, I’ve been to two) they closed with “Aqualung” and used “Locomotive Breath” as their expected encore.

The surprise of the set was the relative strength of some of the newer material. “Eurology” (terrible pun) actually has an intriguing sound thanks to the addition of the “instrument from Hell: the German piano accordion” played by Andrew Giddings. Of the Tull classics, the percussive “Fat Man” may have been the highlight, with Barre sharing flute duties with Anderson.

Regardless how Kirk partisans feel about Anderson, as of 2003, he could still over-blow his hits. Tull is a fun live band, in good measure due to Anderson’s on stage sense of humor. Seeing them here is a blast of nostalgia, which is something festival programmers are definitely going for.

Guitar Trio

Super Guitar Trio: Larry Coryell, Al Di Meola, Biréli Lagrène
Live at Montreuz 1989
Eagle Eye Media

Larry Coryell has always had a certain kinship for his fellow guitar players. He has often teamed up with his colleagues to form all-star ensembles, and has written an instructional column for Guitar Player magazine since 1976, happily passing along his experience to others. It is not surprising to see him anchoring one such all-star trio for an acoustic set documented as Live at Montreux 1989.

Joining Coryell at Montreux were Al Di Meola, best known for his work with Chick Corea as part of Return to Forever and Biréli Lagrène, who was just then emerging as the next great guitarist in the gypsy jazz tradition. According to Di Meola the performance marked the finale of their five week tour, and the three had reached an impressive level of sympathetic compatibility.

The trio’s set was well served by their choice of material, with many Latin or gypsy influenced compositions that gave them an opportunity to display their dexterity. Coryell’s “PSP No. II” starts in a contemplative mood, but quickly morphs through several changes of mood and phase, giving all three ample opportunities to demonstrate their prowess. The camera work is impressive throughout the concert, capturing many close-ups of the trio’s fleet fingers.

Latin flavor is imported from Argentina, Brazil, and Spain, with the former represented by Astor Piazolla’s “Tango Suite (For Two Guitars),” as a feature for Coryell and Di Meola. Both clearly have a strong feeling for the piece. Piazolla’s music had long had great importance to Di Meola, and Coryell, who had begun interpreting composers like Ravel and Rimsky-Korsikoff in the 1980’s, also shows a strong affinity for the composition.

From Brazil, Laurindo Almeida’s “Braziliance” is another showcase for the full trio. Almeida’s lovely melody gets a respectful treatment in perhaps the briefest performance of the set. Two Chick Corea-penned Return to Forever tunes close the DVD: an up-tempo “No Mystery” and the appropriately Spanish tinged “Spain,” their designated encore piece.

For many, Lagrène was and may still be the surprise of the set. Although Coryell has his moments on “Musette De Paris Avec La Rue Dupierre No. 5,” it is really Lagrène feature spot, with the senior member of the trio sensitively supporting him. “Musette” and his solo performance following on “Waltz” are pretty impressive, showing how much Lagrène had absorbed and processed of the tradition at a relatively early point in his career.

Some purists might be skeptical of Coryell and Di Meola given their fusion pedigrees, but there is no denying the acoustic facility captured on film by all three trio members that night in 1989. One supposes if the concert had been performed in the 90’s instead of the late 80’s all three would be dressed in black, instead of white. That is about the only sense of it being dated, as the music certainly holds up well (particularly the compositions of Piazolla and Lagrène).

Hymns for Montreux

Hymns for Peace: Live at Montreux 2004
Santana and musical dignitaries
Eagle Eye Media 2 DVD-set

Periodically Carlos Santana has recorded strongly jazz-influenced sessions that bewilder his fans, like the classic Love Surrender Devotion with John McLaughlin covering jazz standards like “A Love Supreme.” Santana has also earned the ire of free Cubans, like Paquito D'Rivera, for his Che fetish, particularly for his wardrobe choice of Che t-shirt and crucifix, which clash worse than stripes and plaids. So when he puts together an all-star group to perform Hymns for Peace at the Montreux Jazz Festival, there is equal opportunity for high and low points.

Fortunately, during the set Santana largely eschews political statements (or they were wisely edited out), aside from an obligatory Pres. Bush snipe preceding “A Love Supreme,” of all possible tunes. Much more interesting is the actual music and Santana’s invited guests, including McLaughlin, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Ravi Coltrane, and Chick Corea.

Some of the best solo work actually comes from Coltrane. The fact that he is willing to even stand on stage for “Afro Blue” and “A Love Supreme” is impressive, let alone solo well—which he does. Shorter also adds fire to the Mongo Santamaría standard, but “Love” is actually marred by an overly vocal arrangement. Coltrane’s best feature though is on “Light At the Edge of the World,” which he carries beautifully.

Some of Santana’s song selections were inspired, as Marley’s “Redemption Song” proved a pitch-perfect match for Angelique Kidjo. While it may not have the strongest thematic relationship to the concert program, Barbara Morrison’s rendition of “Just Like a Woman” is also a real standout. However, some choices just did not work, like “The Banana Boat Song.” Though it sounds a bit corny, closing with the Choeur de Riviera singing “Ode to Joy” actually sort of works for its ambition.

In between, there are some nice solos, particularly from Coltrane and McLaughlin, covering pop standards from Dylan and Marley, and jazz classics, like Joe Zawinul’s “In a Silent Way.” Probably the best balance between soloist and vocalist came on “What’s Going On,” with soulful vocals by Kidjo, Morrison, Patti Austin and Sylver Sharp, and soulful solo statements from Coltrane and Shorter. Probably the least interesting performances from a jazz perspective, including a rap mistake, were relegated to the bonus track area.

Santana and Montreux director Claude Nobs assembled quite line-up for an ambitious concert. Although the results are uneven, that is to be expected from such an All-Star event, and at least for Babalu colleagues, there is no butcher-fetish wardrobe to be seen.

Weather Report 1976

Weather Report Live at Montreux 1976
Eagle Eye Media

This month Joe Zawinul is graces the cover of Downbeat on the occasion of his new CD revisiting classic Weather Report compositions. For some perspective on the new recordings versus the old, take a look at the classic version of Weather Report in Live at Montreux 1976.

The 1976 line-up of WR may well have been the strongest. Jaco Pastorius was still relatively new to the band, but on his way to becoming a cult hero. Though Wayne Shorter appeared to be marginalized in later incarnations of the band, his voice was still very prominent in the mix at this point.

Shorter’s tenor comes to the fore right off the bat in “Elegant People.” His fiery solo should answer any critic too quick to dismiss WR as light-weight pop-jazz. Buoyed by Pastorius, Zawinul, and percussionists Alex Acuña and Manolo Badrena, Shorter delivers another searching post-Coltrane solo on “Black Market,” this time on soprano, as well as briefly sharing keyboard duties with Zawinul.

As impressive as Shorter might be, for many Pastorius will be the center of attention. There are several showcases for his virtuosity, including his infectious groove on “Barbary Coast” and his solo prelude to “Portrait of Tracy.”

Although Zawinul’s voice does not dominate the band as it would it later years, he is undeniably a strong presence during the Montreux set. Despite solo space for Shorter on tenor and soprano, Zawinul’s keyboards dominate “Cannon Ball,” his tribute to his former boss, the elder Adderley brother.

Indeed, this is the Weather Report of choice for many because there are three strong and distinct musical personalities, ably supported by Acuña and Badrena (who get their own percussion duet). This was a group playing together at a very high energy level. Throughout the set, one can see the sweat glistening of Shorter’s face. By the time they play the final notes of the last workout, “Gibraltar,” featuring another blistering soprano solo from Shorter, one can see Acuña take a deep breath, as in “whew.”

Later WR albums would be later albums. If there was ever a time to see them live, it was 1976-1977, so it is great to have a restored, non-bootleg version of their Montreux set available.

Canned Heat with Gatemouth

Canned Heat
Live at Montreux 1973
Eagle Eye 2-DVD set

The term blues-rocker is far over-used, but a band vouched for by John Lee Hooker and Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown can claim some real blues street cred. That was the case with Canned Heat, which is documented in performance on Live at Montreux 1973.

Heat showed their dedication to the blues at Montreux when they essentially served as “Gatemouth” Brown’s back-up band for a guest set within their own set. Ironically, Brown the bluesman eschewed the blues label, having also distinguished himself in jazz and country music. On four tunes, Brown is the unquestioned leader, featured on vocals, guitar, harmonica, and violin. Particularly interesting is his blues “Please Mr. Nixon,” which seems ripe for a conservative deconstructionist reading with lines like: “please don’t cut off that welfare line, so we can live good all the time.”

Montreux comes with a bonus documentary disk, relating the band’s history largely from the perspective (almost by necessity) of surviving drummer Fito De La Parra. Certainly among the highlight’s of their story are the Hooker n’ Heat sessions blessed with the badness of John Lee Hooker. The band members happened to meet their idol in the Portland airport whole both were on tour. Their former manager recalls arranging the resulting session:

“I called John up at Oakland and told him Canned Heat wanted to do a record with him, and we would use all of his songs, he would have all the writer-publisher money. We would also give him half the artist royalties, rather than splitting it. And it was a time in their career when they were a meaningful act and they were going to sell some records and reintroduce the world to John Lee Hooker.”

There are plenty of low-lights in the Heat story as well, many of which seem to palpably disgust De La Parra. Unfortunately, the band lost several members Behind the Music-style to a combination of drugs, booze, and chaos. The first band tragedy was the loss of Alan Wilson, the victim of depression, further alienated by his new found extremist views on the environment. As De La Parra observed: “He was very, very concerned with it [the environment], which became an obsession. You let something become and obsession—it can kill you, and that’s what Alan did.”

While Canned Heat might not have been the most charismatic band (we see front man Bob “the Bear” Hite hiking up his drawers more than anyone needs to), they took their blues influence seriously. They were in good form at Montreux, and “Gatemouth” Brown was as real as it gets.

Nina Simone Live

Live at Montreux 1976
Nina Simone
Eagle Eye Media

Like Miles Davis, Nina Simone was renowned for her uncompromising stage presence. As Live at Montreux 1976 documents, Simone knew what she wanted, and was not reluctant to let stage-hands or audience members have it, if they weren’t with the program.

The 1976 concert is a representatively classic Simone set. Tunes like Langston Hughes’ “Backlash Blues” and “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” are the kind of political statements (or tunes refashioned into political statements) that formed a significant portion of her repertoire. Nina Simone was another multi-hyphen jazz artist whose work crossed over into soul, folk, and pop. A tune like “Be My Husband” performed sans piano over her drummer’s rhythm exemplifies that genre defiance.

Montreux also captures Simone as a stern stage-manager. At one point she literally scares a soundman off the stage, when he has trouble adjusting her microphone. Towards the end of the show she breaks off from her encore of Laura Nyro’s “Stars” instructing a woman in the back of the hall: “Hey girl, sit down.” Watching Nina Simone at Montreux is always fascinating, although it gets a little uncomfortable at times, as when she keeps asking if David Bowie is in the audience. It is the full Nina Simone experience.

Montreux 1976 is nicely expanded with cuts from Simone at Montreux sets in 1987 and 1990. Amongst the “bonus” cuts are some songs most associated with her, including “My Baby Just Cares for Me,” “I Loves You Porgy,” and “Ne Me Quitte Pas.” Simone’s Montreux performances also serve as reminder of her skills on the piano, which are often overlooked. Simone was originally trained as a classical pianist, and that background is clear on her intro to “Little Girl Blues” and in her recasting of “My Baby” from her original recording which then enjoyed renewed popularity from its use in a Chanel commercial.

The cuts from 1987 and 1990 largely omit any talk between songs from Simone. However, we do see her forcefulness as she directs the audience in the proper way to sing the chorus to “Liberian Calypso.” It is clear Simone knew what she wanted from audience and musicians alike, and got it.

Nina Simone was a unique artist, well captured in these Montreux sets. Few artists had the command (literally) of an audience as she did. It’s quite a show to watch.