Hello, my name is Erincraig, and I'm a jazzhole.
...but it's okay, guys, really! It's all for the love of latin jazz, left-hand tumbao, and piano technique that I will never, ever, have even in a million years of practicing eighty-seven hours a day. I'm speaking, of course, about Michel Camilo, who I saw at the Regattabar last night.
Okay, frickin' Michel Camilo, guys. I've been obsessed with this dude since Craig showed our grade 10 band class Calle 54 and all us jazzholes-in-the-making were jaws-on-the-floor blown away. Camilo's big schtick is that he plays fast. I mean, like, fast!!!! Piano technique has never been my strong point; I've always been a better interpreter and arranger, and my soloing tends to be more melodic than technical. I figure, that as fast as I learn to play, there's always going to be somebody who can play faster, so why bother? Obviously, this somewhat flawed logic has held me back in terms of technique, but I can't seem to get it out of my head, and considering I don't really want to be a pianist for a living, I'm not too concerned. Anyways, the fast-ness blows me away all the time, and I know that a lot of jazzholes might look down on me for feeling that way. However, the technique is something that is out of my reach - whether I made it that way myself through my flawed logic or not is out of the question, really - and because of that, I admire that he's able to do it. I do know, too, that Michel Camilo doesn't only play fast; he has a gorgeous album of mostly slower-tempo songs called Spain, that he made a few years ago as a duo with the flamenco guitarist Tomatito. His playing in this setting is thoughtful and tender, and I appreciate it more because I know how hard it is to play with a guitarist without stepping on each other's toes. They pull it off beautifully.
Anyways, the show, the show! He brought his trio, but with an upright bassist instead of electric. The sound at the Regattabar wasn't great; the bass and the bass-drum on the kit got really muddled together, and even though I know they were awesome, it was sometimes hard to tell. Stupid Regattabar. Oh well. They opened with "From Within", the tune that they play on Calle 54, i.e., the tune that started my obsession with Michel Camilo. Oh man. So much better live. There's a part in it where the band has just been playing the crap out of the tune, and they do a giant stop on beat 1, and there's a montuno break. On the record, he sticks pretty much to playing right on the beat, as we learn in college labs that they're supposed to be. But last night, he pulled the time back so much, and the crazy thing was, you still knew exactly where the beat was, even though he was nowhere near it. I love montunos, but they're crazy-hard to get right, and a lot of the time, usually in the second bar of the pattern, it's impossible (well, for a white Canadian chick, anyways) not to lose the time completely. An "out" montuno in a latin tune will make the entire rhythm section fall apart (and that's what's so fun about latin jazz! If anybody's out in the rhythm section, you'll be messed up. Holy teamwork, Batman!) We aspiring latin pianists work and work at keeping our montunos exactly in time with the rest of the rhythm section, and the greatest achievement, we think, is playing a montuno that grooves exactly as it's supposed to. We don't play rhythms that are out, that messes everything up! But... Michel Camilo did, and it almost felt like swing, except it was probably the furthest thing away from swing you can imagine! And I knew where the beat was, even more so than if I was playing my own montuno exactly in the pocket of the groove. Granted, I'm 21 and learning, and he's, like, old, and a big international award-winning jazz star, and from the Dominican Republic, i.e., not Canada where people think latin music is what you hear when you go to a Catholic wedding. It blew my mind, I tell you!
The other big thing that blew my mind about this show (there were many, many things, of course) was his rendition of Giant Steps. It started out with just him on the piano, with his left hand doing a kind of half stride and half tumbao kind of thing, and his right hand was on chords and melody. The whole thing, of course, was at a million or so beats per minute, by the way. Then, the bass and drums came in at some completely different metronome marking, and it still lined up! Nate and I sat there counting and conducting for the entire tune, and we couldn't figure out what the crap was going on. I think it had something to do with taking half-note triplets, and making those into new quarter notes so it felt like three-quarter time swing (not waltz-time, but you know how if you're swinging at 100 and someone says "play half-time" you swing at 50? It would be like swinging at 75 from 100, I think). (Misha: I'm thinking it's like that thing Max used to do that screwed us all up.) And I still don't know what it is. However, I bought the album (and got it signed!!!) and I'm going to transcribe it at some point - it may have to wait until after Christmas, though, because I'm covered in transcribing homework for, like, all of my classes. As I was getting it signed, I asked what they were doing over Giant Steps, and they tried to explain it, but couldn't, exactly. I was on the right track in thinking it had something to do with triplets, though, because they said to imagine saying "Giant steps, giant steps, giant steps" over and over, over top of the tune. We'll see. One day, I will know.
Anyways, Michel Camilo is pretty much awesome-sauce. And now, I've got some more transcribin' to do before I go and spend my Sunday afternoon in a rather more enjoyable fashion than, well, transcribin'.
See you later!
Okay, frickin' Michel Camilo, guys. I've been obsessed with this dude since Craig showed our grade 10 band class Calle 54 and all us jazzholes-in-the-making were jaws-on-the-floor blown away. Camilo's big schtick is that he plays fast. I mean, like, fast!!!! Piano technique has never been my strong point; I've always been a better interpreter and arranger, and my soloing tends to be more melodic than technical. I figure, that as fast as I learn to play, there's always going to be somebody who can play faster, so why bother? Obviously, this somewhat flawed logic has held me back in terms of technique, but I can't seem to get it out of my head, and considering I don't really want to be a pianist for a living, I'm not too concerned. Anyways, the fast-ness blows me away all the time, and I know that a lot of jazzholes might look down on me for feeling that way. However, the technique is something that is out of my reach - whether I made it that way myself through my flawed logic or not is out of the question, really - and because of that, I admire that he's able to do it. I do know, too, that Michel Camilo doesn't only play fast; he has a gorgeous album of mostly slower-tempo songs called Spain, that he made a few years ago as a duo with the flamenco guitarist Tomatito. His playing in this setting is thoughtful and tender, and I appreciate it more because I know how hard it is to play with a guitarist without stepping on each other's toes. They pull it off beautifully.
Anyways, the show, the show! He brought his trio, but with an upright bassist instead of electric. The sound at the Regattabar wasn't great; the bass and the bass-drum on the kit got really muddled together, and even though I know they were awesome, it was sometimes hard to tell. Stupid Regattabar. Oh well. They opened with "From Within", the tune that they play on Calle 54, i.e., the tune that started my obsession with Michel Camilo. Oh man. So much better live. There's a part in it where the band has just been playing the crap out of the tune, and they do a giant stop on beat 1, and there's a montuno break. On the record, he sticks pretty much to playing right on the beat, as we learn in college labs that they're supposed to be. But last night, he pulled the time back so much, and the crazy thing was, you still knew exactly where the beat was, even though he was nowhere near it. I love montunos, but they're crazy-hard to get right, and a lot of the time, usually in the second bar of the pattern, it's impossible (well, for a white Canadian chick, anyways) not to lose the time completely. An "out" montuno in a latin tune will make the entire rhythm section fall apart (and that's what's so fun about latin jazz! If anybody's out in the rhythm section, you'll be messed up. Holy teamwork, Batman!) We aspiring latin pianists work and work at keeping our montunos exactly in time with the rest of the rhythm section, and the greatest achievement, we think, is playing a montuno that grooves exactly as it's supposed to. We don't play rhythms that are out, that messes everything up! But... Michel Camilo did, and it almost felt like swing, except it was probably the furthest thing away from swing you can imagine! And I knew where the beat was, even more so than if I was playing my own montuno exactly in the pocket of the groove. Granted, I'm 21 and learning, and he's, like, old, and a big international award-winning jazz star, and from the Dominican Republic, i.e., not Canada where people think latin music is what you hear when you go to a Catholic wedding. It blew my mind, I tell you!
The other big thing that blew my mind about this show (there were many, many things, of course) was his rendition of Giant Steps. It started out with just him on the piano, with his left hand doing a kind of half stride and half tumbao kind of thing, and his right hand was on chords and melody. The whole thing, of course, was at a million or so beats per minute, by the way. Then, the bass and drums came in at some completely different metronome marking, and it still lined up! Nate and I sat there counting and conducting for the entire tune, and we couldn't figure out what the crap was going on. I think it had something to do with taking half-note triplets, and making those into new quarter notes so it felt like three-quarter time swing (not waltz-time, but you know how if you're swinging at 100 and someone says "play half-time" you swing at 50? It would be like swinging at 75 from 100, I think). (Misha: I'm thinking it's like that thing Max used to do that screwed us all up.) And I still don't know what it is. However, I bought the album (and got it signed!!!) and I'm going to transcribe it at some point - it may have to wait until after Christmas, though, because I'm covered in transcribing homework for, like, all of my classes. As I was getting it signed, I asked what they were doing over Giant Steps, and they tried to explain it, but couldn't, exactly. I was on the right track in thinking it had something to do with triplets, though, because they said to imagine saying "Giant steps, giant steps, giant steps" over and over, over top of the tune. We'll see. One day, I will know.
Anyways, Michel Camilo is pretty much awesome-sauce. And now, I've got some more transcribin' to do before I go and spend my Sunday afternoon in a rather more enjoyable fashion than, well, transcribin'.
See you later!