As evening in January 2007, New Morning is shielded. Chris Potter, Craig Taborn, Adam Rogers and Nate Smith will play to an audience almost won in advance. At each concert the quartet, the opinions are unanimous: the sound, as nerve, swing, groove, all notes in the wind. The lucky ones who one day saw Chris Potter on stage has always throat full of words, then they rustle their healthy rumors. On an annual concert in this mecca of jazz in Paris, they make an event. And they are right. It is, one day we will realize how
... That night, when Potter walks on stage, these musicians behind him fiddling with their cables, their pots, tend to the ear hear the gentle breath intoxicating expiring their amps, as it does on eggshells, almost apologetically. He says that tonight they'll play new stuff to record a concert at the Village Vanguard. "And, thinks it is not quite the New Morning? It is not enough property to warrant registration, the rest of us? . And we know that in itself is said that because we do not so much the novelty of it, finally the unknown mean, yes, the scary unknown terrain. To you as to others, must not lie. We prefer to know warm, at home, take time to tame, at home, you can go back, go forward. But where we go there! Chris Potter alone can afford such a thing, at other times, we whistled genies, Trane, Cannonball Adderley and for less than that.
That evening, the group is seeking. Potter himself, tortures the reed of his saxophone, falter keys of his instrument, looking, digging, digging, clearing. He tries his new tricks . His game is usually so nimble, so hot, became almost cold, opaque, rough, almost angry. There are moments of pure beauty, while improvising on "Togo" for example, but it is as if this beauty sounded a bit hollow, as if this quest insatiable, restless, urgent parasitized his game to the point of the gut. It is an empty beauty, a beauty that takes you by surprise.
Behind him, the guitarist Adam Rogers, still looking for more, and then further. The compositions are not of him, and everything had to be tamed, like a damn zoo, zebras, elephants, lions and raccoons. Some of his sentences seem absurd. Too complex, too thoughtful, concerned. Music tames the more he does tames. One feels the tiger's under the hood, you do not hear it roar, he meows, yes, it's a fierce meow, meow but a anyway. This guy is told, is still a fantastic musician. He expects a fair bit of foolishness to take all the wear and simply on his shoulders mover. Curly hair, shoulder length, tied behind his head, the guitarist seems studious, diligent, good student. He sows the notes as an underdog expensive, it is equally palms, fists full of trouble sometimes, sand between your fingers bonded to the skin of our hands on contact with sweat.
The purpose of all this is that it is a privilege total ultimate attend this. It uneven, sometimes boring, then at other times it bites you in the neck and blow you ear. It takes you from discovery to discovery, sometimes you shake your ass we put on her chair and we annoyed, impatient we are ready to stand and a bunch of Found notes so well that it is quite disgusting you flip as if you were a small leaf fall crushed any crap!
A month later the quartet recorded his Live at the Village Vanguard in New York. The same material has been worked each evening before. The frame is still beautiful, without a trace of wear. And from the first note, the term argue that all land now known. They know any black currant, the slightest bumps, they did it break more kidneys, no more break their impulses, they travel in it. Potter was the sound that would make the dead rise, this great shamelessness that makes you believe that anything is possible and then the notes from you thinking: "How is this possible, which is what this guy stops where are they? "This is not the complexity of the compositions. In reality, it is a Jazz simple, sometimes as simple as a song. The themes are sometimes desperate beauty, childlike, deconstructed and then suddenly, turned upside down.
Adam Rogers, lost yesterday, a fire in their fingers tonight in February. In unison with its leader, he wears a simple music, driven solely by the happiness of improvisation. No economy, no words whispered in the ear of an audience of cruising. The notes scroll, they do not comply with the moods, territories, the color of the soil and influences, they are particle accelerators, they make you pass the cock in ass, bright, contrasting dark and scarlet, white and poisonous. On "Train", osmosis is total disbelief, we do not really believe what you hear. On "Viva Las Vilnius" is almost weep and "Pop Tune # 1" is itself a miracle. An improvisation of almost abnormal patience, softness almost refined. Brace yourself, there's something sweet in there, oozing from the guitar strings, sweet like a cocktail full of color, those with palm trees on it, it's almost a machine on which you could hug a woman or a man passing through, those that do that because of colors of summer. But they're underway, it takes you, guys are blackballed from the village vanguard, we hear their sighs, their cries, we hear grimaces that distort their faces, the back and forth waving their bodies, their little red lips eaten . Too good, you know, too good! And the witness is given to Potter that is something else, anything else, anything else, always something else.
friends, each color. In two nights, Adam Rogers made me move from caution displayed on blind adherence. As the title of this fabulous cake as a full treasure chest, he was General concrete foam makes me mute the first class, which step by step, happy, show me the red line that I must follow.
The myspace Adam Rogers
listen Adam Rogers on the Live at the Vanguard Vliiage
This post is part of a project of the now famous Z band, group variable geometry involving bloggers stamped jazz. We have chosen to speak this time a jazz guitarist who is close to our heart. This issue could be titled "Strings and souls." Or "Divine Finger", hehe!
Here are other contributions must read (which I will hasten to do so, for that matter):
Doudourou on Lionel Loueke
Master chronic on John Mc Laughlin
Jazz O center on John Scofield
Mysterio jazz Gabor Szabo
ptilou's blog Mike Stern
Jipes Mood on Charlie Hunter
Cultural Property on Manu Codjia
Jazz Chills : Kurt Rosenwinkel
Native Dancer Marc Ribot
Noctanbule jazz Barney Kessel
Z and jazz, meanwhile, made a beautiful TOC Ad!
... That night, when Potter walks on stage, these musicians behind him fiddling with their cables, their pots, tend to the ear hear the gentle breath intoxicating expiring their amps, as it does on eggshells, almost apologetically. He says that tonight they'll play new stuff to record a concert at the Village Vanguard. "And, thinks it is not quite the New Morning? It is not enough property to warrant registration, the rest of us? . And we know that in itself is said that because we do not so much the novelty of it, finally the unknown mean, yes, the scary unknown terrain. To you as to others, must not lie. We prefer to know warm, at home, take time to tame, at home, you can go back, go forward. But where we go there! Chris Potter alone can afford such a thing, at other times, we whistled genies, Trane, Cannonball Adderley and for less than that.
That evening, the group is seeking. Potter himself, tortures the reed of his saxophone, falter keys of his instrument, looking, digging, digging, clearing. He tries his new tricks . His game is usually so nimble, so hot, became almost cold, opaque, rough, almost angry. There are moments of pure beauty, while improvising on "Togo" for example, but it is as if this beauty sounded a bit hollow, as if this quest insatiable, restless, urgent parasitized his game to the point of the gut. It is an empty beauty, a beauty that takes you by surprise.
Behind him, the guitarist Adam Rogers, still looking for more, and then further. The compositions are not of him, and everything had to be tamed, like a damn zoo, zebras, elephants, lions and raccoons. Some of his sentences seem absurd. Too complex, too thoughtful, concerned. Music tames the more he does tames. One feels the tiger's under the hood, you do not hear it roar, he meows, yes, it's a fierce meow, meow but a anyway. This guy is told, is still a fantastic musician. He expects a fair bit of foolishness to take all the wear and simply on his shoulders mover. Curly hair, shoulder length, tied behind his head, the guitarist seems studious, diligent, good student. He sows the notes as an underdog expensive, it is equally palms, fists full of trouble sometimes, sand between your fingers bonded to the skin of our hands on contact with sweat.
The purpose of all this is that it is a privilege total ultimate attend this. It uneven, sometimes boring, then at other times it bites you in the neck and blow you ear. It takes you from discovery to discovery, sometimes you shake your ass we put on her chair and we annoyed, impatient we are ready to stand and a bunch of Found notes so well that it is quite disgusting you flip as if you were a small leaf fall crushed any crap!
A month later the quartet recorded his Live at the Village Vanguard in New York. The same material has been worked each evening before. The frame is still beautiful, without a trace of wear. And from the first note, the term argue that all land now known. They know any black currant, the slightest bumps, they did it break more kidneys, no more break their impulses, they travel in it. Potter was the sound that would make the dead rise, this great shamelessness that makes you believe that anything is possible and then the notes from you thinking: "How is this possible, which is what this guy stops where are they? "This is not the complexity of the compositions. In reality, it is a Jazz simple, sometimes as simple as a song. The themes are sometimes desperate beauty, childlike, deconstructed and then suddenly, turned upside down.
Adam Rogers, lost yesterday, a fire in their fingers tonight in February. In unison with its leader, he wears a simple music, driven solely by the happiness of improvisation. No economy, no words whispered in the ear of an audience of cruising. The notes scroll, they do not comply with the moods, territories, the color of the soil and influences, they are particle accelerators, they make you pass the cock in ass, bright, contrasting dark and scarlet, white and poisonous. On "Train", osmosis is total disbelief, we do not really believe what you hear. On "Viva Las Vilnius" is almost weep and "Pop Tune # 1" is itself a miracle. An improvisation of almost abnormal patience, softness almost refined. Brace yourself, there's something sweet in there, oozing from the guitar strings, sweet like a cocktail full of color, those with palm trees on it, it's almost a machine on which you could hug a woman or a man passing through, those that do that because of colors of summer. But they're underway, it takes you, guys are blackballed from the village vanguard, we hear their sighs, their cries, we hear grimaces that distort their faces, the back and forth waving their bodies, their little red lips eaten . Too good, you know, too good! And the witness is given to Potter that is something else, anything else, anything else, always something else.
friends, each color. In two nights, Adam Rogers made me move from caution displayed on blind adherence. As the title of this fabulous cake as a full treasure chest, he was General concrete foam makes me mute the first class, which step by step, happy, show me the red line that I must follow.
The myspace Adam Rogers
listen Adam Rogers on the Live at the Vanguard Vliiage
This post is part of a project of the now famous Z band, group variable geometry involving bloggers stamped jazz. We have chosen to speak this time a jazz guitarist who is close to our heart. This issue could be titled "Strings and souls." Or "Divine Finger", hehe!
Here are other contributions must read (which I will hasten to do so, for that matter):
Doudourou on Lionel Loueke
Master chronic on John Mc Laughlin
Jazz O center on John Scofield
Mysterio jazz Gabor Szabo
ptilou's blog Mike Stern
Jipes Mood on Charlie Hunter
Cultural Property on Manu Codjia
Jazz Chills : Kurt Rosenwinkel
Native Dancer Marc Ribot
Noctanbule jazz Barney Kessel
Z and jazz, meanwhile, made a beautiful TOC Ad!
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