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Medeski, Martin & Wood 'Not Not Jazz' documentary review -- August issue of Palm Beach Arts Paper
A new phenomenon emerged through the 1990s when keyboardist John Medeski, drummer Billy Martin and bassist Chris Wood (www.medeskimartinandwood.com) created what proved to be the most formidable jazz/fusion act without a stringed instrument since Weather Report.
Director Jason Miller's new Medeski, Martin & Wood documentary, [i]Not Not Jazz[i] (Oscilloscope Laboratories/MVD Entertainment Group) chronicles the trio's improvisational creative process and provides a bookend to its 1992 debut album, [i]Notes From the Underground[i], on which Medeski played only acoustic piano.
Yet [i]Not Not Jazz[i] is a far cry from that all-acoustic recording and the trio's early New York City gigs. MMW's second album, [i]It's a Jungle in Here[i] (1993), featured Medeski on additional electric Hammond and Wurlitzer organs, and charted a course for the trio's self-described "avant-groove" blend of classical training with jazz/fusion creativity. Somehow, that mix eventually resulted in jam band allure.
Surrounded by keyboards in the film, Medeski approximates a mad audio scientist as he teams with Martin (on drums and various percussion instruments) and Wood (on acoustic upright and electric basses) in an attempt to record a new album at Allaire Studio in New York's Hudson Valley in 2017, 25 years after the trio's formation.
Miller documents the trio arriving to record its first studio album in seven years, having slowed its output as each member veered into outside projects and educational pursuits, not to mention middle age. And all three musicians are enamored with the studio -- a vast, sprawling remote estate on top of a mountain with a picturesque view of the valley below -- yet no recording equipment. It was chosen for remoteness and inspirational scenery, with the realization that the audio nuts and bolts would also have to be brought in.
"I've never been anyplace like this," Wood says. "The only place I've been in that's anything like this, I've dreamt."
"It feels really good," Martin adds. "But it's definitely a challenge, because there's no real studio equipment here."
"We didn't discuss any music before this," says Medeski. Master improvisers, MMW can simply get together, blend ideas on the fly, and produce material whether as an exercise or recording project. Early footage of Martin playing a kalimba (an African thumb piano), Wood using a bass pick on his upright, and Medeski creatively shifting keyboard pitches by hand while the rhythm section effortlessly plays one of its elastic inside-out grooves illustrates such dexterity.
MMW is akin to a musical Bermuda Triangle. It consists of New York City native Martin, Colorado-born Wood, and Kentucky native Medeski, who expanded the triangle by moving to South Florida with his family in his youth. It's where the child piano prodigy studied at the Pine Crest School in Fort Lauderdale and jammed with bass virtuoso Jaco Pastorius.
Six degrees of separation kicked in after Medeski left to attend the New England Conservatory in Boston. Wood was also a student there, and one of their teachers was drummer Bob Moses. That New York City native had not only recorded with guitarist Pat Metheny on his 1976 debut [i]Bright Size Life[i] (with Pastorius on bass), but was also Martin's private instructor.
Together, they crafted a modern update on the trio format of bandleading Hammond organists like Jimmy Smith and Dr. Lonnie Smith. Those greats famously straddled jazz and soul music starting in the 1960s, and MMW expanded that formula by adding pop, rock, funk, hip-hop and world music elements for a sound owing as much to James Brown as to Thelonious Monk.
Medeski plays a bank of keyboards that includes an electric piano, clavinet and a Mellotron; Martin a sparse drum kit with minimal cymbals that's adorned with global percussive instruments. Add Wood's experiments, especially on upright (like alternately playing slide, or changing pitch, with a drumstick), and you have a tapestry that surprised even them by turning a nightclub jazz trio into a worldwide festival act.
Other gems from the MMW catalog include the studio efforts [i]Combustication[i] (1998) and [i]Uninvisible[i] (2002) and the live, all-improvised, all-acoustic [i]Free Magic[i] (2012). The trio also recorded a series of albums with guitar icon John Scofield, who recorded and toured with godfatherly jazz/fusion trumpeter Miles Davis during the 1980s. Those include [i]Out Louder[i] (2006) and [i]Juice[i] (2014). MMW's latest release is [i]Omnisphere[i] (2018), recorded live with the 20-piece chamber orchestra Alarm Will Sound in 2015.
It's a rich history that's only touched upon through occasional archival footage in [i]Not Not Jazz[i]. Within 15 minutes, the unfortunate sub-theme of the film becomes digital equipment problems, and what was supposed to be a documentary about recording an album curiously becomes the opposite.
"Ten years ago, I wouldn't have been able to handle this," Medeski says. "This is the time when I would be locked in the bathroom, freaking out that we're not gonna get a record."
Footage of another prospective 2017 remote recording location, Tepoztlan, Mexico, then shows the catastrophic 7.4-magnitude earthquake that necessitated the switch to the Hudson Valley. There are also scenes from MMW recording its acclaimed 1996 album [i]Shack-man[i] in Hawaii, successfully captured remotely in spite of similar obstacles while using solar power.
Yet MMW's improvisational tendencies still created tension with the trio's label, Blue Note Records, which no longer offered large recording budgets to instrumental artists by the mid-2000s. Tension increased within the group, too, as it often does in such creative situations. Interspersed dinner scenes and instrumental experiments lead to the film divulging something about the trio that was probably largely unknown beforehand, and which harkens back to Medeski's coping capabilities with adversity.
"Some things got out of hand," says Liz Penta, a fan who turned into MMW's longtime manager. "There were times when John Medeski actually would sit down on stage, in his little keyboard spaceship, and not play for, like, 20 minutes at a time. He was mad at Chris and Billy for not reading his mind."
Further footage of Medeski playing a contemplative piece on a grand piano and confessing his obsessive tendencies; Martin discussing failed auditions, fatherhood and parenthood, and Wood admitting to a midlife crisis lead to what's, if anything, the documentary's bombshell.
"At one point, we had to go to therapy as a group," Penta says. "It was our time to process our stuff. We didn't even know how badly we needed it until we were in that room, and then it would all come out."
The quote comes during the 67th minute of a 77-minute documentary about the making of an album that apparently never came out. Miller never reveals what, if anything, ever came of the attempted recordings from the mountain lodge, and uses more footage of the three musicians playing individually than together throughout.
In doing so, the director salvaged [i]Not Not Jazz[i] as a not not good home movie for the MMW family, friends and fans rather than a true document of one of the most important jazz/fusion bands of the past few decades.
Twocan Blue story - August issue of Palm Beach Arts Paper
Certain musical gigs that were once frequent have become rare in South Florida. The area nightclub scene is now mostly dominated by open mics, jam nights, karaoke, trivia, stand-up comedy, and singing guitarists who are sometimes accompanied by pre-recorded backing tracks. In essence, anything that club owners and managers can think of where they only have to pay one host or performer.
Quality acts ranging from duos to full bands used to get house gigs, or residencies, by playing at the same venue anywhere from one to five nights a week. Most of those nights are now occupied by the cost-cutting elements described above. Yet exceptions are still made for exceptional talents like Twocan Blue (twocanblue.com), the weekly Friday happy hour entertainment at the Funky Biscuit in Boca Raton.
That venue just celebrated its 13th anniversary in mid-July, and Twocan Blue has been there for 12 of those years. Their free 5-7 p.m. Friday appearances usually occur before shows by ticketed featured artists, with only occasional nights off whenever the club presents a rare two-show format (at 6 and 9 p.m.) by such touring acts.
Twocan Blue is in its 30th year, and the Boynton Beach-based duo of keyboardist/vocalist Tess Schmidt and vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Richie Schmidt were a literal duo even earlier, having married in 1990. Theirs is a true Florida tale, one of Fargo, North Dakota native Tess meeting New York City-born Richie on the road before they relocated to the Sunshine State to pursue further musical endeavors. The rest is history (and hers).
"We actually met in Minnesota," Richie says. "A vacancy had opened up in the band I was in there, and Tess joined before we migrated down to Florida in 1983 when the guy who was running things said he had some family in Hialeah."
"That band was called Mystique," says Tess. "It was the '80s Top 40 act that introduced us, and we were part of it for about six years."
Now a fixture at the Funky Biscuit, Richie (who's appeared on stage there singing and playing guitar, flute, harmonica, mandolin and violin) is also part of the club's talented house band, which hosts Monday night jams featuring special guests. The Funky Biscuit Allstars will even headline on August 10, and his long-standing blues band The Fabulous Fleetwoods, with Tess guesting, stars in its Old Boca Music Fest 11 on August 17.
The couple is also part of a new venture called Blue Eyed Souls, which makes its debut playing vintage Motown and Stax Records material across town on August 25 at the Boca Black Box Center for the Arts.
In Twocan Blue, Richie is the primary vocalist and soloist, with Tess mostly providing backing vocals; atmospheric piano, organ and synthesizer chords on her Yamaha keyboard, and essential left-hand bass lines that make the duo sound like more than two people.
"Tess has such great skill with her left hand," Richie says. "We've had lots of players, including several very respected bassists, come up and comment on how well she plays those bass lines."
Drawing from an estimated 300 songs, Twocan Blue performances showcase a variety of influences from The Beatles (cited by both) to Richie's mentions of blues titans the three Kings (Albert, B.B. and Freddie), fusion guitar icon Allan Holdsworth, progressive rock members of Yes (Steve Howe) and Genesis (Peter Gabriel), and seemingly immortal rocker Keith Richards. Tess's additional nods include her five musical brothers while growing up, plus a member of both The Hollies and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (Graham Nash), pianistic pop singer Carole King, iconic soul artists Chaka Khan and Stevie Wonder, and Steely Dan leader Donald Fagen.
As part of the Funky Biscuit's 13th anniversary weekend, Twocan Blue showcased many such influences and beyond, including songs by Bob Dylan, Leon Russell, The Kinks, Taj Mahal, the Doobie Brothers, and Keb Mo. The versatile duo covered ground where most twosomes would fear to tread, including The Fab Four's "Strawberry Fields Forever" and Paul McCartney's "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" medley. Later, Richie would simultaneously sing and play guitar and harmonica on The Beatles' "I'm a Loser," and alternate between guitar and flute on the Blues Project instrumental "Flute Thing."
The CSN&Y medley of "Just a Song," "Carry On" and "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" closed the first set with a flourish of the Schmidts' vocal harmonies and Richie's feverish picking. The couple sang traded lead lines on King's composition "Up On the Roof," and Tess torched a rare lead vocal of Fleetwood Mac's "Rhiannon," with Richie dropping in tongue-in-cheek snippets of Billy Idol's "White Wedding" during his solo. A rousing medley by The Who of "Pinball Wizard," "Sparks," "I Can See for Miles" and "Won't Get Fooled Again" closed the second set, coaxing a well-deserved encore of The Band's "The Weight."
The cover-song duo also delves into original songwriting, the latest results of which could be made available soon.
"I just broke through some technical hurdles to get our home studio functioning," says Richie. "We're putting some time in and hope to have some songs to present. We'll just hand them out to the people who keep putting money in our tip jar."
"We're terrible marketers, so any recordings will be gifts to family and friends," Tess says. "Years ago, we had T-shirts and hats made with our logo, and we just ended up giving them away."
Cliff David Greenberg story - July issue of Palm Beach Arts Paper
When it comes to South Florida's current music scene, area musicians know it's a jungle out there. Gone are the 20th Century days when one could earn a living locally by exclusively performing within the realm of popular music.
So modern success stories usually involve versatility -- as in original songwriting plus cover-song acumen, multiple instruments played within different genres, lead and backing vocal capabilities, and offstage activities that serve as significant musical side hustles.
In a Ford TV commercial, Puerto Rican singer/guitarist Luis Fonsi says that versatility is everything, so it must be true. And such is the case with Hollywood-based one-man band and master of multiplicity Cliff David Greenberg (www.facebook.com/cliff.w.greenberg).
A 54-year-old Brooklyn native, Greenberg is a lead and backing vocalist who plays electric and acoustic upright basses and guitars in settings ranging from his pop cover act The Shin Dig (theshindigband.com) to the pop-jazz ensemble Swing Somethin.' He even played all those instruments and more on his recent release [i]First Person[i], an independent, one-man, all-instrumental recording that took the shape of an entrancing, atmospheric audio travelogue.
"I'd been working on the music from that album for years," Greenberg says, "but let it go for a while before coming back to it. I played drums, basses, guitars, cello, ukulele, piano, strings, percussion, melodica, and some sound effects on it. The album was recorded after my mom had been diagnosed with cancer and my dad was in a nursing home, and while I was going back up north to visit them every week or two."
The singing multi-instrumentalist's musical extracurriculars include both teaching and production/engineering work at his successful, home-based 14-year-old Studio 19 in Hollywood. With many of his music lessons occurring online, Greenberg may be one of those rare musicians who benefited from the Internet supplanting live gigs and in-person interaction during the Covid-19 pandemic.
"I teach music on Tuesdays and Fridays at Paideia Classical Academy in Coconut Creek now," says Greenberg, "but most of my lessons, student and adult, are taught online from Studio 19. Everything morphed through Covid for me, because I've had great success ever since by teaching virtually."
"Cliff is an amazing teacher," says Sami Strong, The Shin Dig's gifted vocalist. "He hops at any opportunity to help someone else find their voice within any instrument. If someone sits down at a piano to explore, or asks a question about theory or musical history, time stops and he jumps in head-first. He's given thousands of hours to to young hopefuls to equip them with the tools for success. He's also a great adviser, from breaking into the biz to mastering a track for mass consumption."
Greenberg once found 20th Century success in South Florida after moving down from Brooklyn in 1995 and studying music at Broward College. In 1997, he succeeded Phil Kalasz and Mike Hill to become the third electric bassist for InHouse, the successful original pop quintet that played an abundance of Palm Beach County gigs, recorded three albums, and toured out of the state between 1994 and 1999.
Going under the stage name Cliff Wallach by adopting a family last name with InHouse, Greenberg also earned the nickname "Ramen" for his long, cascading waves on blond hair. Gone are those days as well.
"I cut it all off in February of last year," he says. "I'd been thinking about doing it for awhile. I was working on learning the acoustic guitar track to Led Zeppelin's 'The Rain Song,' listening to it over and over. When it came on one more time, it somehow signaled that it was the right time to do it."
One of many videos on Greenberg's "ProducedByCDG" link on YouTube (www.youtube.com/rokonstudio1) includes his pristine, solo instrumental, 12-string acoustic guitar performance of "The Rain Song," captured at Studio 19 after those long blond locks had rained down onto the floor. It's a rendition that wouldn't sound out of place on the gorgeously-orchestrated [i]First Person[i]. Greenberg's current project, the original trio Brash with guitarist Sean McMechen and drummer Eddie Gresely, is something completely different.
"When I was in my 20s in New York, I was a thrash metal musician," Greenberg says. "Like [i]First Person[i], it's a different side of me that I also rediscovered during Covid. I still write material in that vein, even if what we're doing now isn't exactly thrash, but it's still heavy and progressive music. Sean lives in New Jersey, so I record my vocals and bass with a click track, then Eddie records the drums at Studio 19 before we send the tracks to Sean to record his parts remotely. We'll also release videos of each performance, from both studios, along with interviews."
As far as current live performances go, Greenberg's prime gig is The Shin Dig. A shape-shifting unit that can go up to four pieces for gigs through the tri-county area into the Florida Keys, it's predominantly his longtime duo with Strong in which Greenberg plays acoustic guitar and a foot-played percussive cajon.
"I used to do backing vocals with Sami," he says, "but not anymore. I look at myself more as an accompanist with her than as a guitar player, and feel like I can do so much more of that without the vocal harmonies. And she's great. She really doesn't need them. We've built up a lot of chemistry over almost 13 years. We play cover songs, but we make them our own."
"I've never met anyone so completely immersed in music," says Strong. "Cliff [i]is[i] music. He's found some way to mix music into life lessons and be the sage in our circle. Every moment is a soundtrack; every object is an instrument that holds his attention and affection. And I get the best seat in the house every time."
Versatile in all endeavors, Greenberg wakes up at 6 a.m. most weekdays to get his sons (16-year-old Gabriel and 12-year-old Noah) to school before starting his rinse-lather-repeat routine of teaching, recording, production, practice, filming and live gigs.
"Unless I'm teaching at Paideia, I work on various things before my adult student lessons start at 11 a.m. or noon," he says. "There's time to get more recording and production work in before picking up the kids at school at 2:45 p.m. Then it's back to studio activities, conveniently located only steps away from my home, and maybe a live show. I have all these clients coming to Studio 19 who want tracks built around what they're doing, plus production, and I can either play or program the instruments they need. It's not making me rich by any means, but I earn enough to continue doing what I want to do."
Such musical multitasking, here in tribute act central, is rare and essential for any songwriting musician who wants to earn a living exclusively through his or her craft. All of which makes Greenberg, like Fonsi says in those Ford commercials, perfect for South Florida.