Enough

I'm not sure it's possible to do enough piano practice.

Well. It might be possible to do too much of one thing and end up with tendonitis/RSI. 

I don't think there's much risk of me managing that. 

I do not mean this in a self critical way. I am not talking about the subconscious waggy fingered voice chiding oneself for not doing enough.

I have lists of things that I want to practice that I don't always manage to fit in (without diluting whatever else I'm working on). Like improvising round the three most common blues sequences in all the keys. Learning to comp and solo on some tunes that horn players commonly like to play so that I can go to jams and sit in. Doing every song I already know in all the keys. Doing every song I already know as if playing with bass and drums instead of the solo piano treatment. 

Weekdays my alarm goes off at 6 am so that I make sure I can do an hour every day before I go to work. Frequently if I'm 'in' of an evening I will also do more then. I am a time thief - pinching 40 minutes here while the rice is cooking or the washing machine is running to work on something. Using up the 10 empty minutes before I have to leave the house to go somewhere.

I don't see practice as "work". To me - practice is part of playing and playing part of practice. 

Practice is a particularly focussed, task orientated type of playing - the ultimate goal of which is to get better. I love and am fascinated by my body-mind's capacity to do new things. Going from not being able to do something to being able to do something is a thing of joy. I get deeply lost in doing exercises round a chord sequence or looping a independent handed groove or a tricky three bars of this or that. I love the process - the slow phasing in and out of a new musical skill until it solidifies and clicks. Like a baby learning to smile or clap - but over and over again. 

And playing is part of practice. When I play I am practising many things. Playing a tune through without stopping. Taking solos. Practising enjoying the simple pleasure of playing.

I set alarms on my phone to tell me when to stop. If I did't I'd get to where I have to go much less frequently.

And of course sometimes I don't use every minute that I could be practising. Sometimes I get home from work and fanny about too much on the internet. Or I watch repeats of The Great British Bake Off because my head is weary of the world and needs to rest. 

In my dream lottery winners life (I don't play) I'd do this all day every day.

There will always be things I could work on. Squeezing it in I have to make choices between practising different things - since I can't do it all. 

I could always find more time.

I can never do enough.

I am an addict.

Match & Fuse Festival - The Vortex 25/07/2013

Match & Fuse Mini-Fest. £15 for two of my favourite groups and two international bands I've never heard of. How could I refuse?

Yeah. OK. I like jazz. It was a 5 minute bike ride away. You're right. I didn't. 

Mopti

Caps, beards and lumberjack shirts. Norwegian band Mopti started out with a dark hypnotic groove then overlaid it with declamatory sax/trumpet lines and guitar burps/beeps. Immediately I was in my own private space movie complete with evil Space Emporer and valiant heroes. There was also some intriguing bass playing with both hands being used to slide up and down the fingerboard. Never seen that before. 

Laura Jurd Quartet

I really like Jurd's compositions. I like the mix of crazy jumbled noise and beautiful lyrical melody lines. It spills over into the improvising to create the impression someone talking to you, in a hard-boppish, good conversation, kind of a way. An echo of Lee Morgan, perhaps.

Achtuum

Despite the vaguely germanic name these guys are in fact French. Very French. I have no idea what bunch of heinous stereotypes exist in my head to make me think that of course the French go in for break-neck semi-fractured be-boppish stuff. I shall smack my own wrists for it. It probably has something to do with early exposure to Jean-luc Goddard films. The synchronicity between sax and trumpet required to achieve this effect was actually jaw dropping. It contained within it the luminous and humane seriousness of a dialogue between clowns. I'm not being disparaging. Once, long ago, I was in the clown army - fighting the forces of capitalism and injustice with no more than a red nose, a bunch of love and a basket full of blessed stupidity. 

Kairos Quartet

First up - hats well and truly off to Corrie Dick who drummed with them on one afternoon rehearsal. I will write about the new album Everything We Hold soon. I promise. I am off work this next week. It's lovely. Go buy it. After the excitements of Achtuum and as a portion of the audience rushed off before their tfl carriages turned to pumpkins - it was gorgeous to slip into the warm waters of the familiar.

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Some gripes

I'm sorry. But as a music lover people continue to do things at gigs that mar the whole process. 

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Sadly I spent some of the evening wishing for the Gig Bat (TM) as the persons at the table next to me insisted on chatting through sets, waving of arms, and ultimatley spilling of wine prior to disappearing before Karios 4tet made it to the stage. I know this is a social space, I know it's fun...but also out of respect for the musicians and those who came to listen to all of the music...STFU. 

There also seemed to be annoying number of people intent on documenting everything in a way that meant I was constantly having to shift out the way to accommodate photographers and videographers. The way I see it, the audience are what make a gig - live music, jazz in particular, is by it's very nature ephemeral - that's the whole point. So please feel free to document away - but be discrete have a little more respect for the chumps in the audience who have paid to be there. We, the music loving audience, keep the entire caravan on the road because we want to be there listening to and sharing in what musicians have to say. The clown in me assures you that things do still happen even if they're not captured and distributed via the internet. The untweetable bits are often the best.

Gig Update June - July #1

Oh. Crap.

I am over a month behind with my gig writing up.

I blame combining a full time job with 6 am starts to accommodate not enough piano practice. By the middle of most jazz gigs I'm warmly muzzily tired (especially if I add a glass of red into the mix). I enjoy it immensely - but I don't always remember much.

Kairos 4tet, Saturday 8th June, King's Place
As desired I bought a copy of the new album Everything We Hold - which probably deserves a separate post of it's own if I ever get round to it. It's a lovely thing, get hold of it yourself. Or go and see them live - plenty of opportunities in the UK this summer. I did gently raise an eyebrow to hear that despite an entire suite of tunes dedicated to the occupy movement the bonus track was only available digitally via a corporate, legally tax avoiding, behemoth. I'm fairly certain, however, that I'm conflating two issues here.

Jazz in the Round, Monday 24th June, Cockpit Theatre
I went primarily to hear Cath Roberts Quadraceratops - a band who I've now seen twice and who left me with a big grin on my face both times. If you need cheering up - I recommend checking them out. Then Alan Wilkinson who did some extraordinary free jazz type solo sax stuff that induced a rather dyspeptic expression in most of the audience. Interesting. Then there was Mathew Hallsall doing floaty electronicy things with trumpet and ensemble - like being wrapped in a squooshy musical duvet. Though that may have been the tiredness again.

George Crowley Quintet, Reuben Flower Octet, 5th July, Con Cellar
I had a really nice time and the music was excellent but at this distance I'm afraid I don't remember anything specific that would make for an interesting blog.

Rachel Sutton Band with special guest John Etheridge, 7th July, Pizza Express
I must declare a bias here - the pianist is my piano teacher - so the band and singing were obviously excellent. Venue - could do better by single gig goers - a rather sour sounding booker when I phoned up to buy one ticket and said I would not be joining anyone else. The person who showed me to my table seemed to be a bit grumpy too. My seat was, un-suprisingly given my "on my tod" status - right behind a massive pillar where I couldn't see the band. Fortunately the waiters seemed to have a better grasp of how customer service works.

Briefly considered writing updated lyrics to "I'm a Woman" possibly involving wimmens doing Particle Physics or holding High Office rather than washing socks. I wish to take nothing away from the song as it is - a rousing testament to the damned hard (unpaid) work women have always done. But the idea of a second interchangeable version where the protagonist is good at inorganic chemistry, raising children, being the C.E.O of an FTS100 company or jazz drumming because she is a W-O-M-A-N amuses me. In the interests of fairness, in this day and age, there are obviously also men who can wash socks and stretch meagre incomes mightily.