macedonia

Just back from Skopje, where I was mainly attending the Skopje Jazz Festival, but also visiting friends and going to see Animal Collective in concert. Yes, I’m prepared to drive for an entire day just to get to some decent music, and no, driving through Montenegro and Kosova is never a pleasant experience, and yes, I will be posting reviews of the concerts.

While I was in Skopje, Ivana invited me to guest on her radio show on Channel 103. We talked about the hidden links between Skopje and Croydon (seriously), the music scene in Macedonia and how all music is pop music now. Also, I played some tunes to illustrate that last point:

• Sleepy Head - Passion Pit
• Lovesick - Friendly Fires
• I’m Good, I’m Gone - Lykke Li
• Butterfingers (ft Fujiya and Miyagi) - Bomb the Bass
• Carolina - Seu Jorge
• Killers About - Benga

At some point I’m going to try and stream these tunes. Although now that Muxtape is dead, and I don’t have a broadband connection, I’m not sure how that’s going to happen.

My 15 minutes of fame was supposed to be 60 minutes, but I managed to get completely lost in the RadioTelevision Macedonia building. Next time, I plan to make incendiary comments about the political situation in Macedonia and see if I can get myself PNG‘ed. Meanwhile, here’s a picture of the MRT building:

The third evening of concerts at this years festival was the first evening to feature what the average punter thinks of as jazz - you know, drums/bass/piano trio, horn sections, “standards” - but the audience was pretty much the same as the first two nights. I mean that literally - because the Skopje Jazz Festival is as much a social as a musical event, you see the same faces on successive nights, just sitting in different seats.

The first set was the Jean-Michel Pilc Trio. I’d never heard of Pilc, a self-taught French pianist, but his trio featured Mark Mondesir, one of my favourite drummers. On that basis alone I assumed that the quality of the music was going to be high, and it absolutely was. Pilc is an ethereal force at the piano, light and vigorous at the same time, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, sometimes playing directly with the piano strings, sometimes falling off one side of the keyboard. I was worrried that he might be too imposing for a trio setting, that he would dominate the music, but Mondesir and bass player Thomas Bramerie balanced him well. A mixture of Pilc’s own compositions and standards given his own twists and turns, I could have left happy after that without waiting for the second set of the evening.

I’m glad I did wait, however, because after the break we were treated to The Leaders, a superstar group put together by Chico Freeman. If you have any familiarity with jazz, you’ll recognise names like Bobby Watson, Lenny White and Eddie Henderson. The band were slightly off form because their luggage had been lost in transit, and so they were dressed in their travel clothes, but they still blew through the Universal Hall.

There were no revelations, just rock-solid playing; ironically the player who stood out for me was not one of the big names, but the young pianist Frederick Harris. He didn’t rock the keys in the way that Pilc did, but was equally impressive in terms of tone and fluency. The other players were exactly what I was expecting, but I was slightly surprised by how well they played together given how distinctive their individual voices are; the set had the feeling of an extended jam session rather than a formal concert. The frontline players chatted to each other between solos, and there was a real feeling that they really enjoyed playing together, a feeling that they shared with Pilc’s earlier trio.

And that was the end of my Skopje Jazz Festival. It actually went on for another two nights, but I had to get back to… well, I’m not sure what I had to get back to, but I left anyway. I was glad I’d made the effort (even though I had to dig the car out of the snow when I got back to Rozaje, and then drive 5 hours through the winter) and it will definitely be on The List next year. Except next time I’ll plan it better…

Round 2: Juan Carmona Grupo / Miguel Poveda

I love flamenco, but I have now discovered that an entire evening of it is about an hour too much. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy both performances - they were both absolutely exhilarating - but flamenco performers tend to be a bit intense, especially on the vocal side.

Juan Carmona and his group started the evening off - a full lineup of three guitars, percussion, flute and vocals, as well as one member of the group who would occasionally step out from behind the microphone and bust some flamenco dance moves. As you can imagine, the crowd went wild whenever this happened. The set itself was extremely dynamic - lots of light and shade - and Carmona himself proved to an amazing guitarist who was willing to work with his band rather than dominate them. I’m no flamenco afficionado (I get as far as Ketama and that’s about it) , but you didn’t need to be to enjoy the set.

I’m not sure the same could be said for Miguel Poveda. Poveda, a younger musician than Carmona, is an acclaimed vocalist in a very traditional style. In this case, traditional means voice and guitar, plus two members of the band whose role is to provide the clapping. I kid you not, they don’t play any instruments and they don’t sing; they just clap. It sounds a bit ludicrous until you see how essential that is to the performance (although it still sounds a bit ludicrous even then) but it underlines how seriously they take traditional flamenco.

It was during this set that I realised that I had a relatively low tolerance threshold for flamenco. Poveda is a phenomenal vocalist, and it was fascinating to hear the echoes of Arabic styles in his vocal delivery and shades of Qawwali in the intensity with which he performs. Without understanding Spanish, however, it’s next to impossible to follow the narrative that flamenco lyrics provide; for me that reduced my enjoyment of the performance, since the tempo and timbre of the songs tended to be quite similar. At the end, Poveda stood up and moved away from his microphone to the front of the stage, singing directly to the audience - a great way to end, but after he left the stage I breathed a sigh of relief and stumbled off into the Skopje night, still reeling from the intensity of the performance.

(Thanks to Beastmaster112 for posting these clips on YouTube.)

Susannah and the Magical Orchestra / Sidsel Endresen / In The Country.

Norwegians galore on the first night! Melody Mountain, the most recent album from Susannah and the Magical Orchestra (the latter comprised entirely of keyboardist Morten Quinveld) consisted of cover versions of unexpected songs that benefitted from Susannah’s wonderfully languid voice and Morten’s batty electronic instrumentation. The result is like Angel Delight - it’s really tasty, but too much of it and you feel a bit ill. It was fun to play spot the original, but the tempo remained the same for most of the set, which meant that it was difficult to get very excited by the music. Perhaps I ask for too much - you can hear for yourself on the video for their cover of “Love will tear us apart”.

Sidsel Endresen is one of the most fantastic vocalists in the world, with a breathy, versatile voice that she bends into every conceivable shape. She’s not a straight vocalist at all - by which I mean that she can be very difficult, especially when it’s just her on stage. This proved to be the case tonight, where she spent a good 40 minutes performing with a delivery that was a cross between a series of breathing exercises and an episode of Tourette’s. I’m glad I had the opportunity to see her, but I’d prefer to see her bouncing ideas off other musicians.

Finally, Morten Quinveld returned with his trio project In The Country - more accessible than Sidsel, more musically interesting than the Magical Orchestra. It’s hard to describe what they do, because it isn’t really jazz. Although they follow the classic piano/bass/drums lineup, they’re strongly influenced by the European improvisational tradition (which makes sense, as they record for Rune Grammafon) but also build in some very hummable chorus work. And they’re dark, did I mention that? Imagine a soundtrack for a Norwegian movie about the tribulations of farmers (farmers who are also jazz fans) in the immediate post-WWII period, that’s the sort of thing.

At one point, they even tried to get the audience to sing along. It was unsuccessful - somebody should have told them that Macedonians don’t roll like that- but it was also a problem with the National Opera and Theatre, which was where the concert was held. It wasn’t the sort of venue that any of these acts could benefit from - the stage was too big, the audience too far away and the auditorium too formal.

After I saw In The Country earlier this year at Cargo (supporting Supersilent), I found that listening to their album Losing Stones Collecting Bones was much the same as seeing them play live. For me, this is a bad sign for a jazz group, for whom live performance should be the opportunity to really stretch out. Despite that reservation, I really enjoy their performances - they obviously like playing together, they like the audience and they have a sense of humour which comes through quite strongly. This makes up for any reservations I have about whether I’m hearing anything really exciting happening.

So to summarise: I lose Jazz Club points for not appreciating Sidsel. Susannah and the Magical Orchestra are fine, but better in a nightclub than a concert hall. In The Country get the gold star this evening, particularly for the explanation behind the song “Torch Fishing”.

That’s right, music lovers. This year I made the pilgrimage to Skopje for the annual jazz festival, using the opportunity to visit some friends in Kosovo en route. The next couple of posts will be potted reviews of the gigs I saw, and some observations about the death of Toese Proeski. Your enjoyment is compulsory.