Cannonball Transcription

I've been toiling over a transcription recently. Which is to say, I've been working on a transcription intermittently between work, a wedding and various other things that have been keeping me busy this summer. I thought I'd post it up here and see what people thought.

You can find the recording on Grooveshark. Search for Cannonball Adderley, A Foggy Day.

The arrangement is by Bill Russo, and the original track is from Cannonball's album entitled Julian Cannonball Adderley with Strings from 1955. Only 52 bars long, I still found the transcription a challenge. Cannonball has a certain sense of time that really defines his sound as a soloist and it's most evident on these slower pieces. He loved to bend and play with the time, dragging eighth note rhythms as far back in the pocket as is possible before leaping back to the front of the beat, as if to catch up. This is most evident in measure 13 and measure 25, both of which were a challenge to figure out rhythmically.

Cannonball's time is lazy, relaxed, almost bored, and fits perfectly with the spirit of the piece. As Louis Armstrong sang, "I had that feeling of self pity, what to do, what to do, what to do?" Adderley's swing carries that sense of boredom through the head where the strings take over for eight bars. Heading out of the piece Cannonball returns with the blues, but in his typically joyful manner. His sound is bolder through the last 12 bars of the piece, brighter as the sun shines "through foggy London town."

More difficult than the timing was his fondness for grace notes. Every time I do a Cannonball Adderley transcription, I'm amazed at by how often he replicates a brass player. I love his bends, his scoops, and especially the way he attacks his falls with his air and sweeps down the keys in measure 45 as if he were cascading down the harmonic series on a trumpet or trombone. These sorts of flourishes are really hard to replicate with notations, so I found simplifying was best for many of them, though one or two I found easy enough to notate.

The transcription still needs to be touched up. It went from staff paper to Finale, never a clean transition, and I found I needed to custom create all the different scoops and falls. Even then, Finale screws them up when extracting parts. We'll see what I can do in the next week or so to touch it up, but I'd like to start on a new one this week. We'll call this one a work in progress.

Let me hear it if you find any issues! I'm sure there are a few.

Brotherly Love, or a Battle of Personalities?

So, with all that's going on in the week (Osama's dead, Royal's are married, woohoo I guess?) I had thought about writing about current events. It was then that I remembered I had a music and brew blog, and that I should probably stick to, well you know, music and brew.

Then I caught Alex Rodriguez's blog for this week. As I've pointed out before, Alex is a fellow trombonist and totally cool dude now based in New Jersey. He's also studying jazz history at Rutgers, and as part of his studies he's helping Professor Dr. Lewis Porter collect stories involving jazz fanatics and their 'first time' with John Coltrane.

It occurred to me that maybe this was a great topic for writing. I gave it some thought, and while the topic is close to my heart, I realized that any sort of attempt at writing down my feelings for Coltrane and his music would turn into a weird, semi-religious sort of piece. Coltrane is much larger than a blog post and infinitely more important, and I'll just add that my first real Coltrane experience happened out here in the woods with the aid of what we'll call 'herbal enhancements.' At any rate something else caught my thoughts last week that was a bit easier to get my mind around, if not quite as interesting as Coltrane.

There's a type of camaraderie that goes on between musicians, one you can see on the bandstand, even in the largest of groups. The quiet jokes to one another on stage, the looks cast between them, the tapping of feet and the physical pulse that encompasses the whole ensemble. Musicians come together like this on stage because without such companionship the art would be lifeless. This is true of any functioning ensemble, and for the most part the audience can see, feel and of course hear the connection going on on stage. To a musician though this is only the end product, and what goes on outside of a performance is something completely different. To the average music fan a musician can be type-cast in their head as a happy, slightly dirty artist, content with their surroundings and colleagues.

There is also a lot of competition in the music community. Gigs are few and far between, and it takes a strong personality to carve a spot in a city. When musicians get together, especially jazz musicians, you tend to see those personalities clash. Most cats are used to being in charge at a gig, at least on their horn. They like having control because it means a job for them. Underneath the jokes, behind the looks, hidden by the foot tapping is a steady conflict between players, especially those of the same instrument. A question as simple as "how do we set up" lends itself to the quarrel, and little things like that can really drive people apart.

I've seen it at every level from high school to the Phunkestra. I've even seen it rear its ugly head out here in the boonies. Control of ones craft means work down the line, and any musician with a full workload knows this. Maybe though this kind of conflict helps shape the finished product. I once watched a huge argument between two Philly's cats happen one rehearsal, only to hear the best playing out of both of them the very next gig. Competition is what really drives the best of them, and in the end the best resolution to a fight is a killer set.

I'll be filling in with Trombone 8 this Friday at Jimmy Mak's! Yes, you read it right, eight of them (And yes, the title to that link is perfect). Great, great group led by Ben Medler, with literally all of the top trombone guys in town. See you there!

Art and Community

It's been a rough few months, if I'm honest.

The cultural shock from moving to the woods is finally starting to wear off, I think. I'm used to the large trucks, the 'PRIVATE PROPERTY: KEEP OUT' signs at every driveway, the bad restaurants and long drives to get anywhere meaningful. When you get to know people out here you start to relate a bit more. It's a bit tougher to fit in with a smaller community, but I'm definitely starting to get some sense of that close knit, rural family.

In this type of setting self promotion becomes a lot more important. There is somewhat of a music circle on the Peninsula, and the potential for a full fledged musical career is here and happening, but the territory being covered is so large and sparse that it really seems to take time and a business-like swagger to solidify a reliable career. The city is a tough place to work, sure, but take away most of the venues, lower the average income and add a few hundred square miles and I think most fellow Portland cats would see what I'm talking about.

The toughest thing about the lack of work is that the day job becomes a much heavier weight. Corporatism is easily the most frustrating environment to work in, and it can really keep you out of that determined mental state needed to drive a working musician, especially in a new environment. I should stop whining though, and get to working harder at it.

Why? Well, it's because frankly it's tough out there for all musicians. The Philadelphia Orchestra, one of the countries best musical organizations, has voted to file for chapter 11 bankruptcy. They were fantastic when I saw them on tour in Eugene, and the scariest part isn't that they are broke, but that the quality of the group might suffer. Philly has a fairly rich musical tradition, and the loss of a world class orchestra would be a terrible loss for the community.

While Philly is across the country, closer to home there have been similar problems financially for music. The Oregon Symphony and Portland Opera have had to cut some staff in order to meet their budget needs, but it seems for the most part that they are meeting their financial goals, which is a good sign in my eyes.

I think people tend to scoff too easily at the trouble large classical groups have from city to city, without realizing exactly how important these sorts of organizations really are to a local music community. A group like the Oregon Symphony is really the roots of a strong music community. Because of the space needed for the type of music, venues like Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in Portland or the Hult Center in Eugene are built and maintained. Those sorts of concert halls draw national groups and artists, which in turn helps strengthen the community by adding variety and encouraging a larger interest in music.

A healthy art community encourages people to come downtown and spend money. It encourages young students to take up music, giving them a healthy after-school activity and a strong group of friends. Even a modest orchestra like the Oregon Symphony helps encourage economic growth, and I think it's continued health is much more important than most people would give credit.

One last example, as I've let myself ramble on for far too long by now. Lia is taking her band on a short trip for a local parade. The trip will cost her booster club close to $3,000. Sounds like a lot, but consider that more than half the money is going to local businesses to provide food and activities, and you start to see my point.

There, rant over. To get your mind back on track, here's the piece of the day from me. Anyone else think Michael Kamen stole the melody at about 5:15 and used it for the Band of Brothers theme? Maybe I'm just crazy...

-Slide Funk