Confessions of a teenage prog-rocker

This is not the post that I'd intended to write today, but Oscar Peterson's recent passing triggered this memory. Why I'm compelled to make it public beats me, but it was the one time that I met him.

I was never into jazz as a kid. My folks were MOR listeners, Dad into the Ray Conniff Singers and the like, and my mom finding nirvana with Englebert Humperdinck and Tom Jones. We weren't allowed to have rock and roll records until I was in grade 9. The first lp we got was Abbey Road, an album I still listen to, unusually good taste in retrospect. From there, I listened to whatever was in with my friends at school. We had a pretty impressive collection of K-Tel records, but who didn't back then?

One day, one of my friends in music class brought in some "classical rock", namely Emerson, Lake and Palmer's Pictures at an Exhibition. I was hooked. This was something way beyond what I had been listening to and gave a purpose to the classical music I was studying in school. Soon I was into it whole hog: Genesis, Yes, King Crimson and a token American group, Gentle Giant. I'll confess it now - I was a teenage prog-rocker.

Everything is absolute when you're sixteen. ELP was the shit for me. Nobody was better. In my world, Keith Emerson was the best piano/organ/synth player on the planet (even better that that showboater Rick Wakeman - I mean, anyone could wear a gold cape!); Carl Palmer was the greatest thing ever to hold drumsticks (way better than Ringo); and nobody could sing like Greg Lake. OK, Chris Squire was better on bass (I loved his Rickerbacker 4001 sound), and his Yes bandmate Steve Howe was the ultimate guitarist (like, Jimmy Page totally sucked dog farts in comparison, no, dead dog farts.)

But the star was Keith Emerson. I loved his Moogs - what classic sounds. I dug the way he would get under his B3, lean it on top of him, reach over and still keep playing. Sometimes he'd light it on fire. For me, the big thing was his piano playing, even when he wasn't strapped into that grand piano that spun through the air. I especially loved his boogie woogie bits - I thought that's when he let go of his classical training and really let his hair down. He was God.

With two of my high school classmates, we formed a progressive rock group, my first real band. Paralandra was an interesting footnote in Nova Scotia's rock history, its only true prog band, with some minor measure of success. Kurt, our keyboard player, initially copied not only Emerson's keyboard setup, but had the same shag haircut.

Auditioning for university, one of my pieces was The Old Castle by Mussorgsky. They may have thought it was because it was one of the few compositions that had crept into classical sax repertoire, but I really chose it because of ELP.

My first-year roommate turned out to be a fine jazz drummer (now lost to Scientology somewhere in California, but that's another story). That first weekend at Acadia, he unwittingly changed my life when he played Kind of Blue, turning me on to Miles. He had a pretty good collection and he would put a different album on the record player every night, and we would doze off listening to all of this fantastic jazz. Someone would wake up in the middle of the night, probably due to that skipping sound at the end of the record, and turn the stereo off.

Bill had no tolerance for my prog-rock fetish, at least at first. Finally he let me put on something, and knowing I had only one chance, I picked the most awesome ever Carl Palmer drum solo from Brain Salad Surgery. That did him in - he was one of us. I was anxious to show him what an excellent jazz player Keith Emerson was. So I played him my favourite cut, but he was unimpressed, saying that Emerson was simply ripping off Oscar Peterson.

I was devasated. Even when he played lots of Oscar for me, I couldn't accept it. Sure, there was no question that Emerson was copying Oscar's style to the note, but c'mon, Keith Emerson was God.

Later that year, Oscar played a solo concert at Halifax's Rebecca Cohn Auditorium. Bill, Kurt and I had to go. It was my first true jazz concert. I was totally caught up in Oscar's magnificent stage presence, and worshipped that thundering left hand. I have no idea of what tunes he played, not having any real grasp of jazz repertoire at the time, but loved it anyway. He made me proud to be a Canadian. I allowed in my heart of hearts that maybe, just maybe, he was better than Keith Emerson.

Bill insisted that we wait outside the stage door to talk with him. We stopped Oscar as he came out by himself. Bill asked him about Ed Thigpen, and he graciously answered, probably the same answer the had given a thousand times before. "Ed Thigpen?" I recall asking myself, "Who cares about Ed Thigpen?" We needed to discuss something much more important.

I shook Oscar's hand, and was astounded by its size. It seemed to wrap around mine twice - I guess that's what's needed for a thirteenth reach. We hit him with our trump card. "What do you think about Keith Emerson?" He smiled and told us that he had just recently been in London and taped a TV show with Keith. We were awestruck - it must have been musical perfection.

He excused himself after a couple of minutes and left the theatre. We were ecstatic.


Now, all these years later, just before writing this post, with the help of YouTube, I finally saw this meeting of musical giants for the first time, for what it really was - a plain, old-fashioned ass-kicking of a self-indulgent rock star. And Oscar wasn't even getting warmed up in the three scant choruses he played, it was nothing fancy, his playing was just really deep. He had that same gracious look on his face as when we were speaking. I don't think he was being condescending or competitive, he appeared to be just enjoying life, happy to be making music.

He was a truly great man. He rocks.

Mea culpa

I was chided last evening for not having posted anything in a long time. Guilty as charged.

Times have been busy indeed, and blogging slipped down the priority list. Then as significant events came and went, I felt things were just getting a bit too backlogged to write about them all. In the end, entropy won out.

I'll try to remedy that with a not-so-brief catchup and a resolution to be a bit more regular with my posting.

The NOW workshops that I have been hosting held a couple of surprises in the weeks just prior to the release of the ion Zoo cd.

Hugh Fraser crossed the great waters to do a workshop, using some themes that I was familiar with, but as usual he put a new twist on things. It was very interesting how quickly I recaptured that feeling of being at Banff with Hugh, and how deeply I was affected by recalling many of the experiences that I had up there. I felt very much in the flow of life for the following couple of weeks. I believe that Hugh is a carrier of that vibe and it recharged my creative batteries just spending a bit of time with him.

The following week, the workshop featured Christine Duncan, another longtime collaborator of Hugh's. Last summer, I had the idea of doing conduction just with singers, using the same techniques as I have done with instrumentalists, but I never developed that concept. Meanwhile, Christine was exploring the same concept in Toronto, and has come up with a system far better than I could ever have done. (If I'd only registered the idea, like "eco-density", I could have made a mint from her. Another opportunity lost...) Her workshop was fantastic, and the seven singers who have been regular participants were pretty stoked afterwards.

That evening, she was the featured performer at The Cellar, and working with db Boyko, another great singer, their performance was without a doubt one of the most moving of any of the Monday nights since their conception. There was a vocal duet between Christine (playing theremin) and db (on tuned wine glasses) that was pure magic, improvisation at its absolute finest. Christine also asked a number of people to sit in, most of them very significant in the history of the improvised music scene in this city, Gregg Simpson, Ralph Eppel, Paul Plimley, Brad Muirhead, to name just a few. I was totally honoured to be asked to sit in for a couple of pieces.

Later that week the NOW Orchestra playing their 30th anniversary concert with guest artist Amina Claudine Meyers. It was one of their best shows in recent years, with the standout piece being composed by Ron Samworth.

The following Monday saw the cd release party for ion Zoo at The Cellar. All in all, it was quite successful. I wish all of the people who said they were going to go actually made the effort to do so, but that is life. Nonetheless, the performance actually answered a question that I had as to the future direction of the group. After having listened endlessly to the cd through the production process, I was wondering how the group would continue to evolve. And we certainly did, with the cd symbolically giving us even more confidence to boldly dive into the improvisatory abyss.

Damn, that last sentence is pretty clunky. I'll try to explain. Although we really don't have to prove anything to anybody (other than ourselves), having released a cd in the way we have lends a sense of legitimency to our efforts. We are getting good unsolicited feedback on the disc and it reinforces that we are on the right track as a group, still staying true to the original concept behind the formation of the group, exploring song form in an improvised setting. So the feeling at the cd release was similar to being Sally Field at the Oscars. Musicians want to be liked for their efforts. And thanks to Femke van Delft for the photos that night!

I also felt much more confident playing percussion for the group, to the point where I may leave my horns at home for a gig in the coming year. It was also an insight for me to hear how seamlessly Clyde or Lisa or even Carol will switch to a percussive style of improvising when I picked up a horn, instinctively picking up on that element of the music.

Next up were three performances by Bugs Black Blood, at The Cellar, 1067 and The Western Front. The large ensemble's playing far exceeded my original expectations. In particular, I thought Carol Sawyer and the drummer in ion Zoo's original lineup, Joel Lower, gave consistent standout performances. I was also priveleged to lead the group through two of my compositions: Axes, my first ever large ensemble composition for the Hugh Fraser Jazz Orchestra Workshop in 2003, and Out of the Box, which I wrote for VCMI in 2005. I had not been able to perform Axes in Vancouver previous to this, so it was a treat to have some time to let the piece develop through several performances. It was also great to see Coat Cooke, who pulled this project together, having fun leading the group and taking us through some wild conductions.

What else? Early in December, we had the performance that culminates the fall improv workshop series. This was the first year that I hosted virtually all of the workshops and we had a consistent core of fifteen musicians who did the final show. The particpants are asked to create the pieces for the performance, and they did a fine job in the dress rehearsal workshop, pulling everything together as smoothly as I have ever seen in the dozen years that I've been associated with these workshops.

From year to year you never know what sort of musicians will attend the workshops, and what instruments will be there. This year we were distinguished by having a fairly experienced group (as opposed to the majority being rank beginners), a really strong vocal contingent of seven female singers, and the near total absence of a rhythm section. We had two guitarists, and a guy who got the most out of a single floor tom. One of the sax players also doubled on percussion. So groove was out, with no drum kit, bass or piano, but they chose other improvisatory paths. The concert was a very good one, again the group exceeded my expectations. A multimedia piece written by Margot Butler was particularly effective, but I was happy with everyone's efforts.

I had a number of other gigs along the way, like another skronkfest at The Cobalt and a few nice ones with Wanda and the boys. So typical of what's going on here in Vancouver, but not unique to this city, there seems to be a dearth of straight up jazz gigs available right now. (Disclaimer: I know that there are lots of players who continue to keep busy, but quite a number of first-call guys are telling me that things are unusually slow.) It's been tough for someone like Wanda, who doesn't have many performing opportunities outside of her group. And it's a shame that group isn't busier now. I think that during this past year we have developed into a band that really entertains and can get a crowd into the music. Wanda has always had a knack for that and the rest of us are just catching up to her.

Here's to more great gigs for everyone in the new year.