Catching up....
I've woken up early this morning (in anticipation of the delivery of some furniture to our house; and of course, the 4-hour-maybe-we'll-show-up-maybe-we-won't-but-don't-dare-expect-us-to-phone-you delivery window is for "my convenience") to some sad news that I'm presumably a little late on finding out.
The master guitarist
Derek Bailey passed away on Christmas Day. I can't describe his work better than the essay I've linked to, so go check it out. Bailey was a DIY kind of guy, and I have a deep respect for that. He took control of the world of his work, started his own label, and simply,
got down to work. The lesson in that for musicians who's muse carries them to the "outside" is simple, yet essential. If I may add one further recording recommendation to the essay's list, it would be David Sylvian's
Blemish album featuring DB on many tracks.
Now, about getting down to work. I had a great jam with EdZ and MikeP last week. Very loose, but very fertile. Ed sounds better than ever. A concept I'm pushing for the repertoire that I've built around Ed's playing is that we abandon the seemingly unnecessary layer of "form" for these tunes. Meaning, one of the hurdles in the gigs I've done with EdZ and with either Tim Posgate or Mike Bowell on guitar has been my dictating a song form (meaning ordering the solos, do the intro twice, etc.), which invariably gets misunderstood or forgotten due to the lack of available rehearsal time and the infrequency of our gigs. The result has been that we spend our time onstage caught up in worrying about what is supposed to come next, and forgetting that we are in control of that, and we should really just be letting our ears tell us what the path is through listening to each other onstage. Our hearts and minds should commit to the music and not the formal instructions. I think this concept is compatible with this repertoire because the songs themselves are rather simple in structure, and the structures themselves are easily heard. So, if a member of the group chooses to extend or eliminate sections through the course of their improvisation, we will hear it and go with it. My hope is that playing this way will drive us right into the heart of pieces, and subsequently turn them out for our listeners to hear beneath the surface of the writing.
A tangible effect of this way of playing occured to me last week while we were jamming. Ed played the head (the main melody) of Paper Tiger and then added another 8 bars of improvisation to it, then paused. In the moment, I first thought "oh, Ed is soloing...", but when he stopped playing so soon I realized that the notion of "taking a solo" is less important given the concept I had laid out. Ed stated the melody, made a comment and left Mike and I with a space to respond. In retrospect, it makes so much sense, and from a listener's p.o.v. certainly doesn't seem "avant-garde".
Ok, off to wait for deliveries (I neglected to mention that my new iPod shuffle may be arriving today, if the FedEx tracking info is on-target)...