"Out There" Creator Ryan Quincy - LA Weekly

IFC Television

Emmy-winning animator Ryan Quincy has always dreamed of having his own show. During the decade and a half he spent working his way up to animation director for South Park, he spent his hiatuses creating a world entirely his own, inhabited by hairy but harmless creatures just trying to sort out the difficulties of adolescence.

Now, following in the footsteps of primetime animators like Mike Judge and Seth MacFarlane, Quincy is having that dream fulfilled. Out There, which Quincy created, wrote, directed and produced, premiered on IFC last Friday. He spoke to us by phone to explain how a relative unknown lands his own animated TV show and manages to secure voice talent like Megan Mulally, Kate Micucci and Fred Armisen to help make it come to life.

How did you end up making a living through animation?

I was always sort of aimless in school. I liked to make movies. I liked to draw. The college I went to in Nebraska had an art program only offered one animation class. I took it and I really enjoyed it. I never had any formal animation training prior to that.

After I graduated from college I floundered in Lincoln, Nebraska for a year. There wasn't going to be anything too fulfilling there so I moved to L.A. to sleep on a friend's couch and pursue animation. When I first moved to L.A. I moved right next door to the animation director of South Park. [South Park creators] Trey Parker and Matt Stone lived across the street. It was a total coincidence. They had just started the TV show that year.

The stars were aligned there but they were fully staffed then so I didn't get a job. I kept stumbling along and dumb luck got me to this job doing the interstitials on Mad TV, parodies of Rankin/Bass stuff like a Rudolph meets Scorsese. We did a South Park parody where we actually did cut-out construction paper stuff. When the job was done, I had that on my demo reel and saw that the South Park movie was hiring. I got the job with theSouth Park movie and ended up staying with them for 14 years, but in between seasons I was working on my animated shorts.

Your shorts eventually led to you getting a TV deal. How was the process of producing your own show?

It was a lot more challenging than I thought. A lot more daunting. Once I got the call from IFC that they'd picked up ten episodes, you'd think I would be elated but I was white as a ghost. I was thinking, "What lies ahead here?" I was coming from a show that was pretty streamlined and had the system down and I had to start from scratch. There were huge challenges like expanding the world, the casting, figuring out full stories.

Who were your influences in creating Out There?

Definitely all the Charles Schulz material, the comic strips and the animated stuff. I think there is a kindred spirit with that stuff. People have asked me if this is the South Park kids in high school but I feel it's more in the Peanuts universe. Artistically, a lot of children's book authors like Dr. Seuss, Richard Scary, Maurice Sendak and William Steig. Those were big influences on my style. I like stuff where there are is frog and a monster and just weird looking characters and you don't really question it. They just are who they are.

And now you've got actors like Jason Schwartzman, Sarah Silverman and Nick Offerman guesting?

Twentieth Century Fox is the production company. They have a partnership with IFC so I had access to one of their casting directors, who had cast Futurama and King of the Hill. He already knew a lot of these folks and that was huge to have access to people like Pamela Adlon and John Dimaggio. I was amazed when they said give us your wish list and they were like, "Yeah, this person is in." Everyone was really cool to work with.

Yet you are voicing the main character.

When I did the shorts, that was very low-budget, do it yourself, get favors from your friends. I just did it out of necessity, the voice of the main character. A lot of things were autobiographical like passing out in sex ed class and working at Dairy Queen. When the show got picked up, we were talking about casting and IFC said the only voice they wanted to bring over was the main character, Chad. I was like, "You gotta be shitting me."

I'm not really doing a voice. It's just my own voice. They were very adamant. That was something that took me by surprise and I thought, "Oh man everyone is going to think this is some kind of vanity project." I was resistant and nervous at first but I got over being annoyed at how bad my voice sounds.

Ryan Quincy @ LA Weekly

Darryl Jones on Miles Davis - LA Weekly

Juan Morse

Darryl Jones (left), Ndugu Chancler (center), John Beasley (right)

Bassist Darryl Jones should be a household name. His fluid, funky low end has supported at least a dozen of the biggest concert draws of the last 30 years, starting with Miles Davis' band when he was just 21. When Sting left the Police for a solo career in the mid-'80s, Jones was the man he hired to play bass. He supported Madonna in her prime on the Blond Ambition tour and for the last 20 years he has played on every gig and album by the Rolling Stones. Now, for the first time in his career, Jones is stepping into the spotlight.

Alongside keyboardist John Beasley and famed session drummer Ndugu Chancler, Jones has launched a new project called 3 Brave Souls. All three men worked for Miles Davis but their tenures did not overlap. Beasley and Jones became close in a Miles alumni band; when Chancler became available, the trio buckled down and recorded their self-titled album of groove-slathered funk, in two weeks

See also: John Beasley Is Crazy For Putting a Big Band Together in This Day and Age

"When we were in the studio, John said, 'It'd be nice if we had one or two vocal tunes.' I chimed in and said I had a tune that might be good for that and he made me a man of my word," says a bemused Jones by phone. "That's my first real lead on a record."

Raised on a steady diet of jazz and soul in Chicago, Jones wandered from the drums to the guitar before settling on the electric bass. He started gigging and recording while still a teenager with artists like Pops Staples and regional blues star Little Oscar. Through his friend Vince Wilburn Jr, who happened to be Miles Davis' nephew, Jones landed an audition with the Prince of Darkness, lasting with him for four years during the 1980s.

"One of the most important things that I learned from working with Miles was to listen actively to the musicians around you. It's one of the things that allows the magic in music to happen," says Jones. "If you are in your house late at night and you hear an unfamiliar sound, there is a way that you listen that is very different from when you are listening to the radio in the shower. That kind of hyper vigilant listening, where you are not only listening to what the musicians are playing but are trying to tune into what the musicians intention is. That kind of attention is what allows the kind of music that Miles has been so famous for to occur."

Within 10 years of joining Miles' band, Jones found himself filling the bass chair for the Rolling Stones. After befriending Keith Richards, he aced his audition and seamlessly switched from jazz legends to rock legends. Soon he was playing in front of crowds of over one hundred thousand people, eventually peaking in 2006 in Rio de Janeiro with an audience estimated at 1.5 million. "That was kind of transcendent. I remember Keith starting 'Jumpin' Jack Flash' and the feeling from the audience...When there are that many people there, you can physically feel it."

Through it all Jones has kept his funky chops in tact. It's hard to imagine a jazz musician ever getting the chance to play before more than a few thousand people, but it doesn't seem to have fazed the low-key Jones. In his opinion, an intimate jazz venue can be just as rewarding as playing to a crowd the size of Rhode Island. Discovering a new element of expression in his early '50s seems to have really helped. "I'm excited about beginning vocals as a secondary instrument. I really do love lyrics and singing and I looking forward to get more experience doing it," he says. "And hopefully I'll get better at it."

Darryl Jones @ LA Weekly

Blue Note's Don Was interview - LA Weekly

Rick Diamond

Don Was is a frequent sight at shows around L.A. He's hard to miss: all hair, hat, sunglasses, and smiles. He made a name for himself as a bass player with Was (Not Was) as well as a producer for the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and Bonnie Raitt. Last year, he became the president of Blue Note Records. Around the same time, we took the label to task for what had become a gradual dilution of a great legacy.

See also: Blue Note Records' Troubling New Direction

Blue Note released some of the most important jazz albums of the 1950s and 1960s but since the turn of the century had opted for a radio-friendly folk vibe that left jazz fans scratching their heads. One of Was' first signings was saxophonist Wayne Shorter, who plays Walt Disney Concert Hall Saturday to promote his first record with the label in over 40 years. In our interview below, Was talks about his work at the label.

What was your relationship with Blue Note before you started working there?

In the '60s, when my peers were in the throes of Jimi Hendrix, David Was and I were Blue Note fanatics. At that time there used to be record stores that were mom and pop stores. Every record store had a completely different inventory that reflected the personality of the owner. So we'd call around record stores on the other side of Detroit and see if they had a copy of something we hadn't seen before. We'd hop on a bus and ride forty-five minutes just to see the records. We didn't have the bread to buy them. Stereo copies were like $4.99. We just went to hold them and read the credits. It was more than just music. It was a lifestyle, a cultural force, especially those photographs by Francis Wolff -- the room with no walls and smoke everywhere. I wanted to be one of those guys. The way people reacted to the Beatles or the Stones or Bob Dylan when I was a teenager, Blue Note was that force. And it's something I never really lost but it was never my intention to work at a record company.

How does one become the president of Blue Note records if they aren't looking for it?

It was Dan McCarroll, who's an old friend of mine and a great musician. He is the president of Capitol Records and we met for breakfast. We weren't even talking about music. It was just a friendly breakfast and I had gone to see this singer the night before, Gregory Porter, at a club up in Harlem. He was great. I loved him. As we were leaving the restaurant I asked Dan, "Is Blue Note Records still part of the Capitol group 'cause if it is you should sign this guy I saw last night.' And that turned into, 'Maybe I should sign him.' It was an irresistible offer.

I understood it was a challenge but I kind of had a sense of what to do. It wasn't that hard to see that you can't keep recreating the 1960s and that was not what the music of the '60s was about. That was radical revolutionary music in reaction to the rules of 1950s bebop. That first Jazz Messengers album is as radical a departure as what Wayne [Shorter] and Herbie [Hancock] were doing with Speak No Evil and Maiden Voyage. Repeating things that happened 40 years ago is not the idea. It's taking the aesthetic behind that and moving it forward but we still have to be the best jazz label we can be.

How hard is it to keep the different factions happy? The artists? The executives?

Well, running a label, if you distill it down to its basics is really kind of simple. You try and make really great records that are really going to touch people. Maybe you can't touch all the people all the time with all the music but everything you put out has got to put people in touch with their feelings. There was a great interview with Bob Dylan in Rolling Stoneabout six months ago. He said some of the most profound stuff I've ever heard. He said, 'My job is not to get up on stage and tell you how I'm feeling every night. No one cares about that. It's my job to get up there and put people in touch with their own feelings.' And that's really true and it's something that is really kind of overlooked. I never heard it expressed that way. So you want to make records that make people feel something and then let as many people know about it as possible and trust that people actually do have taste and will gravitate to the music. It's not that hard.

What I was concerned about was having to read profit/loss statements and get into the financial stuff. Truth be told it's actually kind of fascinating to see how the thing works. I've been making records for 35 years and never really understood how it worked. Now I see why certain records I thought should have happened didn't happen and what could've been done to make that happen.

How have things changed with you at the helm?

There's a whole different vibe now at Blue Note. There really seems to be a return to instinct. The records that we love from years ago were all made by entrepreneurs -- Ahmet Ertegun, Chris Blackwell, Jac Holzman and Alfred Lion -- guys gambling with their own bread with really good instincts. That's what the record business is about. You can't really run it by profit/loss statements. You have to be willing to operate on instincts and that's the climate here. It's a musical climate as opposed to a financial climate and that is a huge difference.

Don Was @ LA Weekly

Dexter Gordon - NYC Jazz Record

Dexter Gordon
Satin Doll - Live in Stockholm


In June of 1967, Dexter Gordon was 44 years old. He
had been steadily blasting east from Los Angeles to
New York before hopping the Atlantic in 1962.
Copenhagen became his home base for the remainder
of the ‘60s and much of the ‘70s, with the Montmartre
Jazzhus becoming his regular office. 15 years ago Blue
Note Records unearthed recordings of Gordon backed
by pianist Kenny Drew, bassist Bo Stief and drummer
Art Taylor. This newest collection hails from that same
summer engagement, pitting Gordon against Taylor’s
popping snare for three epic battles while Kenny Drew
rows the boat for a Gordon ballad standby.

The album opens with the swinging title track,
finding Gordon working the full range of his horn in
honks and hoots as Taylor dances boisterously around
his phrases. In the liner notes, Stief speaks of his
nervousness on the gig. Only 20 and surrounded by
legends, it was understandable but none of that
apprehension is heard on “It’s You or No One”, as he
takes an extended, brisk quarter-note solo. Gordon is
especially intense, locked in with Taylor. “Darn That
Dream” gets a flowery accompaniment from Drew that
allows Gordon to stretch out, Taylor sticking to brushes
as Drew digs into his own tasteful moment in the
spotlight. “Billie’s Bounce” closes out the set with a
playful spoken intro from Gordon before the band
launches into a slightly reworked spin on Charlie
Parker’s melody. Each member gets plenty of room to
open up as Taylor closes out the solos, trading 12-bar
intervals before seemingly driving the drum kit
straight through the floor.

The playing is delightfully fierce. Gordon and
Taylor give it everything they’ve got on the bandstand,
with “It’s You or No One” and “Billie’s Bounce”
combining for a running time of over 35 minutes. How
many more of these recordings lie in the vault? And
how soon can we hear them?

Dexter Gordon @ NYC Jazz Record

Branford Marsalis Interview - LA Weekly

Eric Ryan Anderson

Branford Marsalis Quartet - Marsalis (seated)

New Orleans-born saxophonist Branford Marsalis has been a household name since the early 1980s. Alongside his younger brother Wynton, he set the jazz world ablaze, earning his stripes on the bandstand with Art Blakey. From there, he found work in pop music (the Grateful Dead, Sting) and acting (Throw Mama From the Train, School Daze).

His unpredictable career found its highest profile when, just over 20 years ago, he became the bandleader for Jay Leno's incarnation of The Tonight Show. He spent his weekdays on late night television, smiling politely at Jay's Bill Clinton jokes and most of his weekends jetting to New York to see his young son. Marsalis did not last on the bandstand too long. He left two and a half years later to focus on his saxophone, releasing a handful of terrific records in the process including his most recent release Four MFs Playin' Tunes. We spoke to Marsalis by phone about his brief tenure as an Angeleno, ahead of his show at Cal State Northridge on Saturday.

How would you define your time in Los Angeles?

Branford Marsalis: I found people's social interactions to be very different than what I was used to. L.A. was a lot like New York where you suddenly find yourself surrounded by the people that are in your profession. Lawyers date lawyers, musicians date musicians, doctors date doctors. It's just this weird kind of social thing. There was that other side of L.A., the normal side, that I didn't really didn't get to experience except in dribs and drabs. I had great experiences there, man. The guys on the crew of The Tonight Show had barbecues and softball games and I'd go to as many of those things as I could but most weekends I spent on a plane commuting to New York which was very physically and emotionally draining.

Were you hesitant to take the gig?

When we got The Tonight Show offer, the guys in the band really wanted to go. They were calling. Their wives were calling. I thought about it and the only way to really, really know is to do it. The band was really popular with guests. Garth Brooks left his band so he could play with us. Willie Nelson left his band at home. They really dug the sound of the band and the way we treated the music. That was awesome.

People say "How come you don't play on the show anymore?" It's not the kind of thing where you hire a band to get on a plane and spend that kind of money to play on a TV show for three minutes. We don't play L.A. very often.

Did you find many places to perform in Los Angeles outside of The Tonight Show?

We found a couple of places to play. It was hard to find places where people would actually listen. The only place we could get people to really listen was Billy Higgins' spot, the World Stage. Other than that we played in a couple of restaurants but it was more of a hang.

Everybody who played jazz in America knew that Billy Higgins had a jazz club in L.A. and I thought it was important that we actually play there. That's one of them things. It's similar to us doing a show at the Lenox Lounge in Harlem which just closed. We were playing a club downtown but we went there and played a show. The economics have changed a lot since the '60s. I'm glad for those changes, don't misunderstand me, but this was our opportunity to bring some music to the people.

Seriously playing jazz music, it's hard to show up on the weekends and play. It's hard when you are not dealing day in and day out. It is hard to maintain a certain level. Doing something that was the extreme opposite of what it is I normally do forced me to come to a decision pretty quickly about what I wanted to be and I wanted to do.

Was it a difficult decision to leave?

My dad and I had a conversation once I made the decision I was going to leave the show. He said once you leave the show you really can't bitch about anything ever because you've been put in a situation where you could have had a very, very lucrative career without the pressure of the expectations from the music community. Once you decide you want to get back into this, you have to take the bitter with the sweet. I thought about it and he was right. You won't hear any complaining from me and I've mostly kept my word on that.

Branford Marsalis @ LA Weekly

SFJazz via the Internet - SF Weekly

SFJAZZ

SFJAZZ Opening Night Concert with McCoy Tyner, Chick Corea, Bill Frisell, Bill Cosby, and more

Wednesday, Jan. 23, 2013
SFJAZZ Center via NPR web stream

Despite not having had regular employment for the last year or so, I have had the opportunity to see Radiohead perform live at Bonnaroo in Tennessee, Olivia Tremor Control's final original lineup performance at Chicago's Pitchfork festival, and, last night, the opening gala for the SFJAZZ Center, the West Coast's first concert hall dedicated to jazz. The key to all this entertainment has been a rickety Dell laptop and an overpriced internet connection.

According to that rickety Dell, I am 385 miles from the corner of Franklin and Fell. I live in Los Angeles, a town frequently shit on for its jazz scene. Even Chick Corea, during his intermission interview last night, listed a few cities worthy of great jazz halls (Tokyo, London) before conceding "even Los Angeles." There's already one coming, Chick. Frank Gehry is slated to mash some steel together for the vagabond Jazz Bakery sometime this decade and it will be glorious. Hopefully.

See also: SFJAZZ Opens Its Hayes Valley Center with Transparent Intentions

In the meantime, we are closely watching the SFJAZZ center. I have no idea what it looks like other than some stills. Google Maps shows a car repair shop at the listed address, but I have watched the interior slowly come to life through the tweets of director Randall Kline. A big hole in the ground slowly filled with cement and gradually it took on the shape of a concert hall. They even opened on time!

Now that it's finished, they put on a show befitting such an event. NPR's live video feed of the performance lasted 204 minutes. In that time, MC Bill Cosby did some funny things (bantered with tenor saxophonist Joshua Redman) and also some strange things (bantered with a 14-year-old high school student). Pianist Jason Moran and drummer Eric Harland gave a beautiful display of telepathy, while Chick Corea engaged in a sweet duet with Bill Frisell on "It Could Happen to You" before leading a trio featuring bassist Esperanza Spalding and drummer Jeff Ballard. Redman and fellow tenorist Joe Lovano bounced through a Lovano original and the SFJAZZ Collective flexed some muscle.

By intermission, a wide swath of jazz history had already blessed the stage. The second half upped the game by bringing out pianist McCoy Tyner, vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson, and hometown hero John Handy on alto saxophone. Despite his frailty, Hutcherson displayed an effortless strength through his mallets on Tyner's "Blues on the Corner." Corea returned for a newly commissioned arrangement of his tune "Spain" with the Collective, and then the radio signed off. But the video feed kept running.

What the radio audience missed was a swaggering Robert Anderson, a fundraising co-chair for the center, armed with a bottle of Wild Turkey and a polished "ring-a-ding-ding" routine, playing a gentle Billie Holiday 78 on an oversized Victrola positioned right next to Chick Corea's elaborate, whammy bar-equipped keyboard. The hushed crowd soaked it in before Anderson signed off with "Welcome to the 21st century in San Francisco."

Is this method of entertainment a substitute for concert going? Hardly. The people watching, the mingling, even the smells were not there to share. But on the plus side, the parking, the need for pants, and the smells were also not a part of the experience either. Live radio broadcasts have been around a long time. Symphony Sid imploring listeners to come down to 52nd Street was the beboppers' greatest marketing tool, but the idea of watching it live, from multiple camera angles with a crisp, well-mixed audio feed, is kind of irresistible and still wonderfully futuristic.

I don't have the bank account to nab a good seat for an event like last night. (That cultural/economical/"jazz is dead" conversation could fill a book, so I'll spare you.) Those who do probably have their names etched on a wall somewhere. So how does a venue make this kind of accessibility profitable? Can this kind of venue succeed elsewhere? Will this venue succeed? I don't have those answers, but like most people who have been comfortably freeloading, I hope it doesn't come from my wallet.

What I do know is that the SFJAZZ Center put on a hell of a show, and has set a very high bar for preserving the jazz genre. While simultaneously instant messaging with a friend in a Brussels airport, ignoring the dishes in my sink and barefoot, I got to witness a piece of musical history. Welcome to the 21st century indeed.

SFJazz @ SF Weekly

Monterey Jazz tour review - OC Weekly

Sean J. O'Connell

Monterey Jazz Festival on Tour
Segerstrom Concert Hall
January 13, 2013

Sometimes people forget that jazz gigs can be fun. The musical knowledge required by some jazzbos leaves just enough room for the graduate students while everybody else goes somewhere warm and unobtrusive. Yesterday, the Monterey Jazz Festival tour, under the hypnotic charm of Dee Dee Bridgewater, presented a two-hour show that was at times very deep, occasionally goofy but always swinging.

It would be hard to sign an all-star band for 40 dates that is better than the one that played yesterday. Bassist Christian McBride served as musical director while pianist Benny Green and drummer Lewis Nash rounded out the rhythm section. TrumpeterAmbrose Akinmusire and saxophonist Chris Potter formed the front line while Dee Dee Bridgewater strutted the stage, belting out tunes with a smile.

The concert opened with McBride and Bridgewater striding together through "My Mother's Son-In-Law." It would be hard to find a more captivating, bald-headed duo than these two. The full band joined them for Horace Silver's "Filthy McNasty" withAkinmusire and Potter giving rich solos before giving way to a disjointed, Monk-ish solo from Green.

It's hard to believe that the boyish Green is nearly 50. He was granted the Oscar Peterson throne years ago and spent several years employed by legends like Art Blakeyand Ray Brown. He took the lead on a Ray Brown arrangement of a Dizzy Gillespietune called "Tanga." Green's lightning fast solo break earned its own applause and Greenflew with unrivaled dexterity throughout his solo, doubling his lines with both hands while jousting with Nash's hummingbird-like brushes.

Bridgewater joined the trio for a masterclass in space with a crawling "A Child is Born." Only a veteran band like that could let each phrase flutter and expire before embarking on the next, giving weight to every delicate note. Green then played the straight man toBridgewater's come hither routine, melting into a puttied Eddie Valiant beforeBridgewater's Jessica Rabbit (All this after saying 'hi' to her grandkids in the crowd). "He's a sensitive being," said a coy Bridgewater before the band left Green alone on stage for a solo rendition of "Like Someone in Love." It was a moving performance that showed Green's ever-expanding range on the keyboard.

The band returned for a fiery take on Bobby Hutcherson's "Highway 1," a route that bisects the festival's homebase, Monterey, California. Potter gave a particularly strong solo that brought him more into his comfort zone without straying too far outside of the straight-ahead essence of the set.

McBride tried to get the crowd to join him for an 'Amen' before the band, fronted byBridgewater, set to testifying on "God Bless the Child." Green layered beautiful gospel rolls as Nash splashed his hi-hat. Bridgewater's no-holds barred performance netted the band a standing ovation before they closed out with a couple of ensemble performances.

Bridgewater is more than a singer and a musician. She was the emotional core of the group who happily laughed, danced and swaggered before an adoring crowd. She is a veteran entertainer and was in top form with a stellar band and it was impossible to deny her affection for the audience and her bandmates. The jazz world could use a few more ambassadors like that.

Personal Bias: My father and I have seen Christian McBride more times in the last year than we've seen many of our own friends and family members.

The Crowd: A little bit of everything with a bunch of kids for the family-friendly 4pm start time.

Random Notebook Dump: I've never seen an indoor jazz show so early in the day. It seemed like a bad idea beforehand but kind of made sense when it got out at 6 o'clock and there wasn't any pressure on dinner. Dare I say it? We need more jazz matinees.

Monterey Jazz @ OC Weekly

Monterey Jazz Fest preview - OC Weekly

Photo Courtesy of Monterey Jazz Festival

This fall, the Monterey Jazz Festival will usher in its 56th annual performance along California's crystal coastline, 350 miles north of Orange County. Since 1958 the festival has hosted every major jazz musician conceivable. The first lineup alone included Billie Holiday, Louis Armstrong, Milt Jackson, Sonny Rollins, Dave Brubeck andMax Roach. Since that first weekend the festival has expanded into an empire, drawing more attention to Monterey than Steinbeck could ever have imagined with school programs, a record label and now a band of touring ambassadors that include vocalist Dee Dee Bridgewater, bassist Christian McBride, pianist Benny Green and a handful of other ringers. In honor of their appearance this Sunday at Segerstrom Hall, here are five performances that helped to make the Monterey Jazz Festival one of the most important music festivals in the United States.

Miles Davis Quintet
(1963)

By 1963, Miles Davis was light years away from "Kind of Blue," his groundbreaking 1959 release. He had an entirely new band that included pianist Herbie Hancock and his sound had already moved deeper into a well of angularity and confrontation than most trumpet players could manage in a lifetime. This blistering version of "So What," driven by 18 year-old Tony Williams' insistent cymbal probably surprised quite a lot of people who were still trying to process Davis' 1950s sounds.

B.B. King & T. Bone Walker
(1967)

Two giants of the blues! B.B. King was at the top of his game in the mid 1960s, having recently released a handful of powerful live records. T-Bone was knee deep in a revival. The two of them sharing a stage is a spine chilling thrill. The roots of rock and roll lie inT.Bone's fingers with Chuck Berry and Keith Richards flying out over one quick riff. Meanwhile B.B. is all charm in his electric blue suit.

Marian McPartland, Bill Evans, John Lewis & Patrice Rushen
(1975)

That's the great allure of festivals. You have all this talent sitting around, so why not get them together? This performance by four distinct jazz pianists sharing two pianos is what festivals are all about. In this clip, Rushen is only 21 years old and playing with three well-established pianists, all worthy headliners. Their romp through Charlie Parker's 12 bar blues is nothing short of delightful with Evans standing out in an equally charming suit.

Woody Shaw
(1979)

Man, this is just burning. Shaw is in top form and tenor saxophonist Carter Jefferson, an undersung veteran of some great bands, really cuts loose. A large, receptive audience always helps to get those tempos flying and the rhythm section look like they are going to explode. I thought I might explode just watching it.

Banyan featuring Mike Watt & Nels Cline
(2005)

It's not all sensitive pianists in maroon suits. San Pedro's own Mike Watt brought the heat alongside guitarist Nels Cline for a brash set that featured Stooges tunes and thisFunkadelic cover. Cline, then a recent addition to Wilco, does his usual job of shredding the scene while frequent compatriot Norton Widsom splashes paint behind him. Who knows what the parasol crowd thought of this set but it never hurts to have a dude in plaid flex a little muscle.

Monterey Jazz Festival @ OC Weekly

RG Club - New Jazz in Venice - LA Weekly

SJ O'Connell

Late last year, a modest billboard along Lincoln Boulevard in Venice started touting the pending residency of saxophonist Azar Lawrence... 50 feet below.

The newly christened RG Club -- a former dive bar located between an AT&T store and a Jewish community center -- opened in November with Lawrence playing three days a week. Jazz club openings are few and far between in the Southland and it's a beacon of hope for Westside jazz fans.

It's everything you might expect from the phrase "Venice jazz club" and so far it seems to be working out quite well. A little after 11pm this past Friday, the club was full, the small tables surrounding the stage were all occupied and the bar staff was fluttering about. Drumming heavyweight Alphonse Mouzon, in sunglasses and an Australian outback hat, splashed a loud and swinging solo on Freddie Hubbard's "Up Jumped Spring" and the audience soaked it up, applauding Mouzon's boisterous display. Owner Brad Neal, in a sweater and a pair of shorts, was roaming around the club, sizing up his investment.

Lawrence, the larger-than-life tenor saxophonist who made a name playing with McCoy Tyner, was out of town. His band, however, was ready to play and trumpeter Nolan Shaheed had taken over horn responsibilities for the night. Bassist Henry "the Skipper" Franklin, seated next to Mouzon, was an anchor, taking agile solos when not laying down a solid foundation behind his bandmates. Neal couldn't have picked a better band for this opening residency. After their set, I asked Mouzon if he'd ever been booked for three months in the same place. "No, never," he said with a smile. "I've been on tours but never anything like this. It's great."

Still finding its footing, the venue is slowly offering more nights of music with guitarist Julian Coryell moving to Thursdays and promising young guitarist Brent Canter taking over Sundays, while Lawrence will continue on Fridays and Saturdays. Neal made a living through real estate but has now decided to try his hand at club ownership, pursuing a lifelong dream. It hasn't been easy securing a liquor and entertainment license, taking almost a year to wrap up the bureaucratic end of things. Now that he has everything in place he can pursue his ambitious goals.

"Once I brought a sound engineer in there and I knew the acoustics were good, I knew that I was going to have something great," says Neal. "In the next few months, we are planning a second story restaurant and a third floor smoking deck." Despite all these additions, he has made one promise: "We will always have jazz. No matter what. Anyone that is profit driven would probably shy away from jazz but it will always be a part of the club."

And it appears that the billboard will always be a part of the club too. After a disagreement with Clear Channel, the billboard became a double-sided blank canvas for Neal to do what he liked. "I'm going to dedicate both sides to the venue. Jazz musicians just don't get the respect that the great genre of American music should have. The billboard is our way of setting us apart and paying that respect."

RG Club @ LA Weekly