The Jazz People of Ormond Beach

I love this new gig at La Crepe en Haut in Ormond Beach. We've been playing there since November, but just took over the 1st Friday spot last month. There's a lot to love - grand piano, plush vibe, friendly staff, delicious food etc. Tina the owner is exceptionally cool and is always going out of her way to make us relaxed and comfortable.

KMT @ La Crepe en Haut 2-18-11 photo by Gloria Mariash

What's really been a blast are the people listening. Ormond Beach seems to have a lot of folks just "passin' through". It was a smaller, intimate crowd last night, but in that select number was a self-taught piano enthusiast from Youngstown OH; a man from Mississipi (forgot the town) who promptly instructed me on where the blues is really from and why, accompanied by his lady friend from Buffalo NY; 2 local psychologists, one who just happens to be a jazz pianist from Philly, and a sweetheart of a guy. I didn't get to everyone, but I'm sure they were interesting.

I tend to give everything of myself on every gig. I'm useless mentally (and otherwise) the day after. I also have mush for brains in between sets. Mixed with my relatively new habit of chatting up the patrons, it makes for some interesting moments. :)

Last night we played some resurrected numbers composed over a decade ago - "Could You Imagine" (formerly called "Nikki", you can hear a recording of it here) and "Moved" - the nascent jazz effort from our  first NYC recording session; (a tune that will appear in a new version on the next release). Both came off without a hitch, thanks to drummer Scott - who drives 90 miles to play this gig, and John on bass - who was nursing a bad cold but played his backside off anyhow.

Scott's wife Gloria shot some good video of us at La Crepe back in February, playing a slinky version of "Chinny Chin Chin". I'll post it soon! Looking forward to the next time. Peace & Love - Kenny

the attraction of oddball cd packaging

As I write this - I'm listening to one of the most annoying cd's ever made. It's an album of bombastic music by Handel, performed by Anthony Newman and the New York Trumpet Ensemble. That is to say, there are 5 trumpets, 2 drummers/timpanists and a pipe organ playing, very loudly. It's called "The Heroick Mr. Handel" and if it sounds like a sonic nightmare to you, it is; although I'm sure there are those that think it's the cat's pajamas, and a handful who include it on their desert island list. That's the nature of music.

There is only one reason I even own this disc: it is an MMG/Vox Prima CD-Wallet. It's all about the packaging. At the relative beginning of the life of cds, the budget classical label began issuing these predecessors to the digipack; handsomely designed cardboard cases that opened up twice into a large parallelogram, not quite the size of a 10" album jacket, where there hid 4 squares of text and pictures; with 2 pockets, one of which held the cd. The cd itself was wrapped in a soft felt envelope.

There was immediately something fantastically alluring and special about these cd-wallets to me. I was working at Record World at the time, and knew every inch of the classical section. Back then I was all about sacred choral music. When I saw blue-ish cardboard in the Schubert section with the words "Mass No. 6 in Eb" my eyes came out of their sockets in the shape of hearts like they do in cartoons. It no longer mattered that that awful Love and Rockets cd was blasting again. (That was then - I'd probably be prone to liking them now). The Mass turned out to be really good, and a love affair was born. I didn't buy any more - that one was special enough.

Over the last few years, however, when it's become clear that cds on smaller labels and in unusual pressings or packaging are about to become things of the past, my fascination with them has escalated. I scored big last year with a 'lot' of cd-wallets on ebay - I payed something like $10 for five of them. The artwork is often exquisite - although the artist is not credited on the jacket. The music is what I've come to expect from Vox, older, modestly good-sounding recordings that tend to be mastered hot, with performances that have a lot of heart. The Handel disc is an exception - it's awfulness was recorded in 1985 specifically for cd-wallet release, and the artwork is ghastly. But it's still in that cool packaging, so I love it.

So I don't really care for or about Beethoven's Creatures of Prometheus. So I didn't need a third version of the Peer Gynt suites. I'm a weirdo and I love having them. Sometimes the little stupid things really do make you a little bit happier.

When I'm not hunting more of these down, I'll be trying to find some of those cds from Joel Dorn's 32 Jazz label. You know, the ones in the funky black plastic and paper jewel cases? - KM

Three Record Collections

I've always had obsessive tendencies when it comes to audio mediums. When very young I collected anything and everything available I could get my little paws on. At around age 10, on one self-realizing day, I tired of the poor quality of both the music I'd amassed and it's physical condition. I marched all items (about 150 albums and 200 singles) a few houses away and threw them down into the storm drain; to the bewilderment of a few neighbors, and the consternation and (understandable) silent anger of my father who'd gone to good lengths to help me collect them. I was making a statement to myself - I wouldn't settle for crap anymore.

About 20 years later I had to abandon my 2nd collection (about 300 albums) when I moved from Selden to Brooklyn. CDs were the new medium of choice, and most of my vinyl (stored in the basement) had fallen victim to moisture and mold damage (along with a Rhodes Mark I). I took a handful of token representatives (including Lene Lovich's "New Toy" and Missing Persons "Give" 12 inch single), and a few I couldn't do without including 3 albums given to me as a birthday gift from a music teacher - music that opened up new worlds to me. Also rescued were a few that couldn't be replaced, like Walter Murphy's "Rhapsody in Blue" - an incredible melding of expert playing, fine arrangements/composing and rampant (charming?) 1970's cheesiness; and "Song of Joy" by Captain and Tennille - an album from which I learned so much about arranging, pop sensibilities and keyboard playing.

You couldn't have told me back then that in 10 more years, cds themselves would be endangered. Record stores like Tower, Virgin and Borders were like fortresses you could always run to any late night you were feeling musically anemic. No more. An obsessive music collector takes no real pleasure in albums and singles which can't be held in the hand or viewed away from a digital screen (although some might be amused or amazed at the structure and sub-structures of the mp3 collection in my desktop). I watch stunned as the price of items I once had all the time in the world to pick up skyrocket to unattainable and unwarranted heights. There's also this feeling of angst in knowing there might soon be a time when physical production will cease entirely. Book lovers I know express similar apprehensions.

There are, for now, up sides. Music that was simply a legend on someone's lips is now available for, pardon the pun, a song. "Out-of-print" could feasibly become an antiquated word, as (what's left of) record companies can rake in the smallest of profits from an obscure low-seller simply by hosting a 100 mb file on Amazon's ginormous servers. Musicians like myself can release online-only material and still get radio play and new online friends and fans.

But, based on personal sentiments, I don't believe collectors will ever be satisfied with anything less than a huge pile of plastic, or cardboard with plastic in it, taking up more room then we have, reminding us of all the hours of pleasure we've taken in - with them or because of them; gazing at the artwork, pouring over the liner notes printed in the tiniest of fonts. I like to consider myself someone with 'forever eyes' - trying to think more of the next world than this, but when it comes to music I'm a ridiculous hoarder - and there always seems to be that "right" album for the "right" moment or mood. My solution and my suggestion to all of this? Keep art alive - buy a new cd, or for some of you - a book. - KM

new pics and new support page

A bunch of new pictures have been added to the inventively named Pictures page, from our recent gig in Jacksonville's European Street Café Listening Room. Some very nice shots from Killer Photography's Cameron Kline. There's also an abundance of fine looking video from this gig shot by Scott's wife Gloria that needs to be edited - soon! Also up are some studio shots from the album cover session taken by Frank Cooper, including a few not used.

Also up is a new fan support page. We are hopping aboard the fan-funding train in hopes of meeting some objectives: namely professionally remastering the tracks from KMT II and releasing it worldwide, as well as getting some new material recorded with the Florida trio. If you are interested in helping us - please visit the page - there are 4 different ways of support to choose from!

Last night we performed at La Crepe en Haut in Ormond Beach. Scott was late so Marc Koblick joined us on trumpet and flugelhorn (and what he jokingly refers to as his 'main instrument' - the cabasa). In case you didn't know - I'm madly in love with the flugelhorn, so I was in musical hog heaven. When Scott arrived we were a very cool sounding quartet! My night was capped off with a delicious lite salad, and some seriously tasty bread with olive oil. C'est magnifique! Oh and Gloria also shot footage of this gig! Can't wait to show you. Thanks for stopping by! Lord bless - KM

Music in the dark...

Yet another dark and blurry one - but a nice performance from a fun night at La Crepe en Haut

Fran Coraggio - bass
Scott Mariash - drums

Nov 19, 2010 Ormond Beach, FL

Old and New

 

 "Nikki" - recorded winter of 2000 at Sound on Sound, NYC with Mike Savino on bass and Joe Quinde producing and on drums. Inspired by a girlfriend - it's been 'leaked' out on the internet as "Could You Imagine", a phrase she would say a lot. I don't have access to the masters so this is mastered from a cassette copy. Downloads are enabled for the month of December.

And below is a link to a very recent recording - "You and the Night and the Music" from a gig in Ormond Beach. Fran Coraggio on bass and Scott Mariash on drums. Fran began playing this tune a few minutes before we started, and it just seemed like the right thing to launch into.
 

KMT Live at La Crepe en Haut

Sarabande Live in Jacksonville

 

(European Street, Jacksonville - 10/26/10)

Fran Coraggio - bass
Scott Mariash - drums