Jazz music by its very nature is as about as exciting as finding an old and unwashed pair of socks under the bed, yes its familiar and has its uses - think really bad Italian restaurants or elevators - but there is just something unsavory about being caught in possession of it. I think all of us have at times tried to be slightly more hip and cool by trying to get into Thelonius Monk or Miles Davis or Coltrane or - here you can fill in the blank- and I have the virtually unplayed Kind of Blue and Birth of the Cool CDs at home to prove I am not immune. I did stop short of the black woolen roll neck jumper, thick rim glasses, skinny black jeans ( well that’s a lie I do have those) and winkle pickers, Kerouac under arm and too much espresso in stomach. Jazz is music that if you have any ounce of grey matter you should prefer over pop or country, after all it has variety, beats, great playing and yet it sits there quietly festering in the corner, the aging relative, that now incontinent, is no longer involved in the post Thanksgiving lunch game of Monopoly or Bin Fa.
I am a big fan of NPR but the local KCPR station plays so much blather jazz that I feel like fire bombing the station; hearing Neal Losey smoothly ejaculate “that was the inimitable Dave Brubeck and now for some Diane Krahl on your Morning Cup of Jazz”, I mean seriously, that show is emetic. Why is that? Because they confuse the crappy no-risk elevator music for what jazz can really be which is not soporific or smooth or sly or subtle but challenging. Get atonal occasionally, harmony is only ever improved by discord.
Jazz can move you emotionally but the emotion does not have to be one of an overbearing sense of nausea or ennui. It can move you by making your brain work, it should move your feet if nothing else because in jazz you are free from standard 4/4 time structures, it should make you smile. Now doesn’t that sound like the same problem with Merlot, ennui rather than smiles? Both very popular in the 60‘s and 70‘s, still loved mainly in obscure places like Japan and Holland, both have been pushed sideways and out of popular culture.
Well, the good news pop-pickers is that I have both to share - jazz that will make you feel good and some serious Merlot smacking you around the face saying “Respect Me, Sonny Boy!” Bonobo - the musical act rather than the dwarf chimpanzee - is primarily Simon Green plus some cool people like Andreya Triana and Jack Wylie from the Portico Quartet. His new album Black Sands is the perfect soundtrack to the coming spring, great beats, good songs and musically diverse in a way that rewards repeat listening rather than losing your interest. And if you do like it then check out Portico’s Isla which features the Swiss vibes like instrument the Hang - if that’s not a compulsion to download it right now you are not drinking enough!
I have recently survived two wet weeks in the monsoon of London and the Dordogne and have just tasted what Merlot should be like, bold, fruitful both in attack and finish and its name is St Georges St Emilion. Up on the hill behind St Emilion the village and the main vineyards just before you get to Montagne St E is the small AOC of just 8 producers. Its the same underlying soil and elevation as the best of Pomerol but like we purists prefer our wine, women and music - beautiful yet understated and contrarian. I tasted the fabulous ’08 Chateau la Bergere with Camille Benoist its personal Svengali, and it is not only fabulous but it will make you respect Merlot again, maybe you will actually admit it to your friends that yes, you do like Merlot and frankly that Pinot you keep raving about tastes like Syrah, Madame!
And maybe even seek out a Napa Merlot like they used to drink back in the day like Duckhorn or, or maybe not, that’s too close to getting back into the elevator with Neal and Marian McPartland.
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