Glasgow: Guiness, football, and jazz

[rhythmaning]

After changing my image – and spending my money – we sat in Centotre, had a coffee, and people-watched, chatting to the owner (who I have had a chatting relationship with for several years). It was full of trendy people (I should have had on my new glasses, but they take a couple of weeks to come), and it was busy.

It was a gloriously sunny afternoon as we walked back through the New Town, and then we headed west.

It was a long while since we had been to Glasgow, though not much had changed; they still seemed to be digging up most of the Merchant City. We settled in the Babbity Bowster, my favourite pub in Glasgow; indeed, since I first went to the Glasgow jazz festival, it is the pub we usually go to in Glasgow – the festival happens a block away, in the Old Fruitmarket. (Called so because it is an old fruitmarket: the stall fronts are still there – or at least, they were last time I was there, a couple of years back; the Fruitmarket has been closed for renovations. I really hope it hasn’t changed too much – it was a very special, inside-outside venue.)

The football was on. We had picked up the score on the motorway, happening upon Radio Scotland’s coverage just as Gretna got a penalty and equalised. So I sat drinking Guinness and watching Hearts and Gretna play extra time. The crowd was clearly partisan: all the Hearts fans were in Hampden, and everyone else - everyone - was cheering on Gretna. Even my wife (and she hates football). Every Gretna moved was cheered by the bar, every Hearts move met by a stoney silence.

It moved to penalties. If you haven’t been following Gretna’s progress through the Scottish cup, the idea that Gretna – three divisions below Hearts, who were second in the Scottish premier league – could actually hold Hearts to a draw after nearly two hours of football was quite something.

Gretna lost on penalties; and it had to be. But frankly, Hearts must have been awful; and the real winners, the moral victors, were clearly Gretna. A town of something like 2,500 took 12,000 home fans to Hampden (to Hearts 40,000), and a nation took them to their hearts. The Gretna players and management stayed on the pitch to cheer as Hearts received the cup, and the Hearts fans applauded the Gretna players. It was all rather gracious.

After some rather good food, we moved to the newly re-opened City Halls for a jazz concert. It opened with the Tommy Smith Youth Jazz Orchestra, a bunch of very talented adolescents who frankly put a lot of fully grown musicians to shame. They played a set of standards – Dave Brubeck’s “Blue Rondo A La Turk”, Oliver Nelson’s “Hoe-Down” (the original track ins on the wonderfully named album “Blues and the Abstract Truth”… the music is as good as the name, too), Ellington’s “Cottontail” and “Moten Swing” (Basie, I think).

This was a young band – they are all between thirteen and twenty one – did you get that – thirteen – indeed, one of the thirteen year olds – I think he’s called Liam Neath (but don’t quote me) – is a cracking trumpet player who Tommy Smith had in the line up of the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra last time I saw them – this kid played Miles Davis’ lines from “My Ship” beautifully, with a rich, bell-like tone.

And he was great here, too. They are young – each musician was a bit derivative – a bit of Miles here, some Coltrane there – but they were great. Given a few years – a chance to find their own voices – and they will be terrific.

My only criticism is that they seemed to lack a bit of energy at times – it wasn’t a full sound. To be honest, I think the PA was just turned down, because the second band was just louder.

They finished of with a cracking big band version of Salt Peanuts – so they had covered swing and bebop – and those are hard tunes to play. And it was great.

Second up was the European Youth Jazz Orchestra. I felt this was stretching the definition of youth slightly – whilst Tommy’s band were barely into adolescence, EYJO were well into their twenties, and a few looked like they were pushing their thirties. Whilst TSYJO played standards, EYJO played all new material, and it was heavily orchestrated – they were playing the dots. The soles were great – they had all found their voice – but the whole thing felt very arranged – it lacked the rough edges that the kids had had. There was some great piano playing, and the saxes and trumpets really went for it, and it sounded great.

They brought on a piper for an arrangement of “Coming Through The Rye” – and he swung, too. (There have been a lot of pipes in jazz recently; John Rae’s Big Feet used about twenty of them a while back, and Colin Steele mixed pipe, fiddles, saxes and trumpets with a wonderful effectiveness in his band Stramash last month; there is a long history of pipes in jazz – Sonny Rollin’s used the pipes live back in the sixties – there is a recording of the spiritual “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” featuring saxes and pipes.)

But the whole had the feel of a show gig – maybe like they were trying too hard. So the band was good – very good – but it all felt a little too arranged to really take off.

It was a great evening – Guinness, food, and a whole load of jazz – and we hurried home to watch the highlights of the football – door to door in under an hour, which is pretty good going…

Comments

[chickenfeet2003.livejournal.com]

That is perhaps the most obscure description of a soccer game that I have read since Bishop's Stortford beat Ilford in the FA Amateur Cup Final.

[rhythmaning.livejournal.com]

Is that good or bad?

[chickenfeet2003.livejournal.com]

It was good that Bishop's Stortford won.