Hootie

Previously published on my personal lifestyle blog, Miss Tracey Nolan.



Jay McShann passed away today in Kansas City. He was 90 years old. During the late '30s and early '40s, McShann led one of the best blues-based big bands of the day. Only Count Basie's band approached McShann's in terms of popularity. That's going to be the second line in his obit. The first is going to be that Charlie Parker was a member of that band before he became "Charlie Parker". The reality is that McShann was so much more than Charlie Parker's boss. It's been said that he's the creator of a certain style of music, one that combines swing and blues and quite frankly, changed the course of popular music. I don't go in for saying people "created" stuff like that, but I will say he was a true innovator, a magnificent player and a hell of a nice guy.

After work for his band dried up, McShann fought in WWII and his career took a dip when he came back home. There was a resurgence in his popularity though, starting in the 1970's and stemming from several recordings he made right here in Toronto. Back in 1972, saxophonist, band leader, and Downtown Jazz Festival artistic director Jim Galloway brought McShann to the now-defunct Bourbon Street club for a gig and from that time on Toronto became a frequent tour stop. McShann recorded close to a dozen albums in the city for John Norris' Sackville Records, each one of them filled with his contagious sense of fun. An aside: Galloway is one of my very favourite sax players, but I have to say his greatest gift is that archivist's soul of his. He's been responsible for bringing so many of the greats to this city - I feel very lucky to have been around to witness them playing on the stages at the Jazz Festival and in the intimacy of this city's clubs.

My personal favourites from McShann's Sackville catalogue are Just a Lucky So and So which features Galloway (doubling on baritone and soprano), the great Don Thompson (on bass) and Terry Clarke (drums) and Saturday Night Function where McShann and the quartet join forces with Buddy Tate (on this date they are called the "Sackville Allstars"). This is "feel good", swinging, bluesy music of the highest order.

A few years ago in the film American Splendor Paul Giamatti's Harvey Pekar is found in one scene at a flea market, looking for a Jay McShann record (and McShann is featured on the soundtrack). I got such a kick out of that when I saw the movie on the big screen because even though I was well aware of McShann's stature in the business, to me, he was practically one of us. Hell, I showed him how the sinks worked out by the porta-potties during that jazz fest show. It's hard to put the reality of a man who was so approachable and easy going next to the contribution he made to his art.

It sounds trite to say that it's the end of an era because his era, in a lot of ways, ended a long time ago and in a lot of ways, will never end. It is the end of a great run though, but I'm happy to say his music will live on.

If you're interested to find out more about Jay McShann check out his NPR Profile which has lots of great details and sound clips and will make you feel well rounded and like the smartest kid in the class. I defy you to keep your toes from tapping. Enjoy!

Concert Review: Bob Dorough at the Varley Art Gallery

Previously published on my personal lifestyle blog, Miss Tracey Nolan.

Last Friday night, I got to hang out with a man who is, and I don't think I'm overstating this, a hero. Jazz fans will know that I'm talking about the iconic songwriter, bebop singer and piano player who blew onto the scene 50 years ago with his 1956 recording, the legendary "Devil May Care". Those of you not familiar with bebop singers or recordings released in 1956 will know Dorough as one of the key singers and songwriters responsible for Schoolhouse Rock. What little math skills I possess I'm sure I owe to ABC Saturday morning cartoons and Bob Dorough and friends. I know I'm not alone!

When the Robeau and I arrived at the Varley Gallery in Unionville that night I wasn't sure what to expect. The event was a fundraiser for the Markham Jazz Fest where we were encouraged to enjoy the gallery, wine and hors deurves and later the entertainment, from none other than Bob Dorough. It all seemed a little too good to be true. Why was this incredible artist coming all the way to Canada for one night only to play a fundraiser for a small fest outside of Toronto? On our way into the gallery I heard a pair of hands clap behind me. "Let's check out this aaarrrttt!". There was no mistaking him for anyone else. It was Bob Dorough. And the next thing I knew we were checking out the art together. I told him about the Group of Seven he told us that he came to Markham "because that kid Josh asked". That kid is Josh Grossman, Artistic Director of the Markham Fest and the Toronto Jazz Orchestra and he deserves major kudos for spearheading such a great event. Dorough was immediately engaged in our conversation, asking our names and remembering them later that night. He was as witty and charming as you would expect. He was a complete delight in every way and I have to say, about twenty years younger looking than his 83 years.

Yep. That's Bob Dorough and that's me right next to him. That's as cool as I'll ever be. It's truly all downhill from here, cool-wise.


After mingling with the intimate little crowd for a good long while Dorough sat down to play his first set. He opened with the arrangement of "Moon River" that he recorded on his 1997 effort "Right on my way Home"

Hearing him play and sing "Moon River" live proved what I have always felt - that Dorough is not just a great musician, but also a great actor. His "Moon River" is just dripping in irony - and not the easy kind. He's not saying "listen to that silly lyric" he's emodying a character, someone who's been so hurt, so wronged, so humiliated that the fact he would even utter the romantic Mercer lyrics is a little absurd.




He followed with his first hit and probably most covered tune "Devil May Care" from the 1956 record of the same name. It was a sloppy, loose rendition where he pounded away at the piano and didn't care if the mic was picking up his voice or not. It captured the intention of the lyric perfectly...and what fun!



A few tunes later Dorough took a break and mingled again with the crowd. More chit chat, more wine. I was beginning to feel like I was at a party at his house.

The second set included captivating performances of Charlie Parker's "Yarbird Suite" (with his own lyric), "Right on my way Home" and a stunningly beautiful "Baltimore Oriole". He told stories about Miles Davis (he is one of only three singers to ever record with Davis), his own beloved Mother and his Schoolhouse Rock days. He closed the show with "Figure 8" which he wrote for Blossom Dearie to perform on Schoolhouse Rock. Appropriate because when I think of Dorough I always think of Blossom Dearie and Dave Frishberg. They are, in my mind the great bearers of wit, humour and cool. They're like the hippest triumvirate there is. Dorough's version of "Figure 8" was wistful, whimsical and little weird. In short: perfection.

We chatted again after the show and eventually he walked us over to the door, thanked us for coming and sent us right on our way home.

Bob Dorough gave a master class that night in musicianship, storytelling and how to be a really nice guy. I'll never forget it.

In A Sentimental Mood

Previously published on my personal lifestyle blog, Miss Tracey Nolan.

Before Lenny was born, Jim and I were talking about the fun things we'd be able to do with her once she was here.  Surely it wouldn't be all changing diapers and wiping noses and worrying till your hair turns grey(er).  We both decided that the thing we were most looking forward to about parenting was introducing our kid to the things we loved.  Books, music, tv, places, meals, ideas, people...we couldn't wait to show her the stuff that makes our lives richer, happier and better.  Sharing some quiet time on the couch watching Sesame Street with her is one of my new favourite things to do.  "Look, Lenny" I say "It's Maria! She hasn't changed in 30 years."

She has this habit of looking at you and smiling when she sees something or someone she loves.  You know, like Elmo, ice cream or an Aunt or Grandmother.  Nose scrunched, eyes twinkling, mouth wide open her face is saying, "Can you believe this?!?! How great is this?"

This might be the most surprising this about parenthood so far.  That she wants to share her stuff with us, too, and so soon.

Anyone who has read this blog at all knows that one of my things is jazz.  It's one of Jim's too, considering playing the music is what he does for a living.  I mean, he's won awards.  People play his music on the radio.  It's silly, but I still think of it as being one of my things because the music has been in my life so much longer than he has. 

Want proof of my jazz nerd status? Here I am, on my 17th birthday (20 years ago, gasp!) proudly showing off the Sackville All Stars recording - featuring Jim Galloway - that Caftan Woman had just given me. Please try to ignore the fact that I am dressed like a 45 year old secretary even though I am in grade 11. Nobody wins if we start talking about the leopard print, especially me.

I had a great time covering the Toronto Jazz Festival for Torontoist this year.  In fact, you can read my wrap up here.  Hands down though, for me, the best moment was when I got to take Lenny to her first Jazz Fest concert.  Jim Galloway has long been one of my favourite musicians (as you can see) and the fact that I got to take her to see him play in a beautiful open air setting made it all the more special.  And her "Uncle" Andy was playing too!  It really was too perfect.

Here's Lenny, after the set, hanging out with jazz radio legend Ted O'Reilly.  I used to listen to his show on my transistor radio in bed, when I should have been sleeping. 

Moments like this remind me just how weird and wonderful my life is.  I'm so glad I get to share it all with Lenny.