Tina Lee and Megan Cook
In a day and age when the term jazz provokes an enthused if not vague allusion to Dave Matthews Band (as so lovingly blared at ear-piercing levels in speakers by frat boys across the nation), the fresh fare provided by Ann Arbor's annual experimental jazz festival, Edgefest, entertains and enchants. It's as satisfying and pleasant an experience as smacking one of the said boys upside the head, if not better.
The stage was set October 5th at the Firefly Club, whose entryway consisted of a tangled arrangement of trombones. The head at the door swore it'd be a night of fantastic brilliance and "smashed up fun". Half-empty promises, as we were tucked away in a side table giving charming profiles of the players, and the only mix going down was a little shot of Coke and nachos. He was, however, right on target about the music. Billed as an "International Avant Extravaganza", the evening featured two Canadian groups, Miriodor and the headlining act L'Orkestre des Pas Perdus, as well as Trevor Watts' Moire Music Group, an international ensemble with British saxophonist Watts the leader of the pack. In effect a smaller, friendlier, jamming version of the UN.
Miriodor was up first Thursday night. The Montreal quintet's set mixed old-fashioned rock with vibrant melodies reminiscent more of Bozo the clown than those of Thelonious Monk. Circus music with an underlying hint of danger, enjoyed by members in a highway-cleaning chain gang. Or in this case, a pair of mellow college kids. "Caterpillar Tamer" was a winning version of a cartoon soundtrack on crack. Keyboardist Pascal Globensky put an unique spin on his instrument, opting not to imitate a piano or use an overly electronic sound, but rather melded his notes into those from a calliope. Alto-saxophonist Marie-Chantal LeClair's dizzy playing added to the band's big top allure; in the first half of the set, LeClair's playing seemed to be tying the group together, but a few slower, improvisational pieces later on gave the others a chance to shine. "Master Tapes Monster Eater", with its tooting keyboard, exuded a darkly comic dysfunction Tim Burton would give his eyeteeth for. Throughout their sixty-minute set Miriodor demonstrated a sense of playfulness, a theme that sprang from the box and ran rampant for the rest of the evening.
The fun and games continued with Trevor Watts' Moire Music Group. Watts is as skillful a saxophonist as they come; echoes of his brilliancy rang within the walls of the club. With three percussionists and upwards of twenty percussion instruments onstage, the drum boys of old got to relive their hey days, and the crowd was sucked into beats so inviting nary a foot was still. The ensemble blended Latin, African, and jazz influences into complex rhythms buoying Watts' improvisational saxophone. Applause was injected in nearly every song, and the group's exuberant playing clearly made them a crowd favorite.
L'Orkestre des Pas Perdus took the stage a few minutes after midnight. By now, a slew of technical difficulties was long passed, and we were upgraded to center seats, up close and personal. It was time for a little night music. Besides sharing Miriodor's locale up north, the band also lays claim to Miriodor's talent, drummer Remi LeClerc. L'Orkestre let loose with ebullient strings of jazz, the wails of the horns, and the spirited swings of the instruments. While they may not have stretched the boundaries of the genre as far as Miriodor or Watts' Group, they eschewed conventions by inserting a sousaphone in the role typically occupied by a bass player. With the exception of the drums, the group was a testimony to the power of brass, and you've never seen a trombone being slid so fast or perilously close to your eyeball. The rousing "Spiral", as trombonist Claude St. Jean delightfully explained, connoted not only the usual geometric black hole of infinity, but also arcs of madness. Late in the set, St. Jean and his compatriot, tenor-saxophonist Roberto Murray, crooned (in truth, verging on slaughtered) the strains of some flighty song, a random placement of whim L'Orkestre excels at.
With a few Cokes and ice-cold waters under the belt, the cool atmosphere of the jazz club, and the pulsing music still ringing in our ears, the night was a success (although a raging thirst for Jones Soda was denied). Edgefest is surely a player to keep tabs on in the jazz scene. We've got a winner, kids.