Elsewhere: Jazz for the Now - and Then

By Graham Reid

DOWN TO THE BONE

The Urban Groove: Album II

(Internal Bass/Border)

Talk about your jazz in the present tense, huh? Down to the Bone is the production team Stuart Wade and Chris Morgans who here, as one their exceptional debut From Manhatten to Staten, take an NYC funk'n'bump approach to contemporary jazz with a live band and a guest list which includes keyboardist Neil Cowley and saxophonist Shiltz Weimar of Brand New Heavies.

This is jazz of the now for people who don't know the Now. Or maybe even the Then.

Heavy in the bass department, a real feel for the dancefloor and a keen sense of jazz funk, means these 11 tracks should capture the ears of hip-hop conscious acid jazzers as much as those schooled on 70s funky beats.

A repeat play item, no question.

****

My old man's old man's a skiffle singer

LONNIE DONEGAN

Muleskinner Blues

(Capo/BMG)

Donegan's place in history as a pre-Fab Four star is assured. He was a folk singer who single handedly invented the British skiffle movement around the time Elvis invented rock'n'roll. Oh, and did My Old Man's a Dustman.

These days he's distilled down to a couple of songs (Muleskinner Blues and Rock Island Line, both given serviceable reworkings here) and as a footnote in Beatles' books as the man whose style got the young Lennon and McCartney into music.

But, with all due respect, for anyone born after 1950 (that's almost five decades ago!), as with Carl Perkins and others whose music filtered into British Invasion bands, he will always only sound An Influence.

Donegan revivals are often predicted but as good as this is - and for a man closing in on 70 he's in extremely strong voice - it's hard to get hugely excited at this emotional distance from his style. The standout here is a kind of gospel-skiffle of Stewball.

Van Morrison instigated this (and appears, enjoying himself on a couple of tracks) and there's certainly some excellent playing throughout, but ... neo-skiffle? Can't hear the new wave here meself.

By the way, once you've skinned a mule, what do you do with all those leftovers bit?

***

OUT NOW

Local band Ghengis Carney weigh in with a lot of Irish jiggery folkery on their honestly entitled 5 Track EP (Indie CD) which is mostly Trad. Arr. Ghengis Carney and doubtless comes up more energetic live. Here it too often plods when it should sweat. Promising though, especially on Gentleman Soldiers/Scarce o'Taties which, with a few more drinks, could be almost Poguetry in motion.

Tenor player Jason Jones has appeared in any number of local jazz contexts: Jazz in the Present Tense, with the Rodger Fox Big Band, the George Chisholm Quintet, Murray McNabb Group, and on the Urbanism album. He steps out under his own name on Subspace (Scoop de Loop) which, while a little too polite in places, is a firmly grounded, confidently played collection of seven well written originals which allows Jones ample opportunity to display his maturity of sound in the company of drummer Nick McBride, bassist Matt Gruebner, pianists Aron Ottignon or Kevin Field, and trumpeter Kim Paterson. Things are at their best on the slippery and seductive Banyan Tree.

David Hillyard and the Rock Steady Seven earn credit points for Playtime (Shock/BMG) wherein a crew of like-minded young ska'n'skankin' replicators get together and faithfully acknowledge Rico trombones and choppy Ranglin guitars to very good effect (and photocopy some of the original low rent production values, but with more modern attention to sound spread). Their take on Norwegian Wood fits in seamlessly. Very good, but while enjoying it before you reach for a Coxsone album or a Blood and Fire reissue, you do wonder why. Much respect, I guess?

Elvis Presley may not have died, but he's certainly resurrected often enough: the double disc Sunrise (RCA/BMG) is yet another reconfiguration of his classic Sun Studios sessions and is essential in any halfway serious rock collection. The Home Recordings (RCA/BMG) is something else, the King stumbling through When the Saints, Mona Lisa, Tennessee Waltz all complete with background noise, piano noodling and other lesserly enlightening things. Further proof there's no Anthology series in Elvis.