Cerca:billy green

There is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it anecdote tucked into one of
the many fine documentaries about seminal 20th Century artist
Jean-Michel Basquiat regarding the habits of his studio practice.
As we watch inspiring footage of Basquiat darting from one
piece to the next with rapid-fire brush strokes, a friend or
gallerist in a voice over says that it was not unusual for
Basquiat to be working on several paintings in the same
moment as several radio stations and televisions played in the
background. Not much more time is spent on the anecdote but
it feels like a skeleton key into Basquiat’s endlessly alluring,
neoexpressionist work.
And while Bryan Devendorf’s solo curio ‘Royal Green’ doesn’t
possess the only-in-New York vibe of Basquiat’s work, there is
something shared in its many-channels-open style of creation.
Satellite signals, strange voices from lost television
documentaries and radio operas are all woven into its fabric -
like it’s using these endless tides of media and information to
unlock the subconscious. Even its covers - Bob Dylan,
Fleetwood Mac, The National (with a nice big wink), The
Beatles - are like stunning, albeit satanic takes on hymns, or
like American standards almost dragged into the underworld.
Like the best of Spacemen 3, Sparklehorse or massively
underrated San Fran band Skygreen Leopards - the music
makes you queasy in one movement and lulls you into
blissmode in the next. It’s the very edge of outsider pop
songwriting.
For all the amphitheaters and festival fields Devendorf has
played to over his career, ‘Royal Green’ almost feels like an unlearning and a newfound love of homemade/found/fractured
sounds - and how, if collaged just so, detritus can become
stunningly gorgeous and surreal. And not without hooks. Look
no further than ‘Frosty’, which could be Little Billy Corgan’s
decayed demo tape from just before the Smashing Pumpkins
appeared on the scene. And the unspooling, slightly unglued
dream-pop of ‘Breaking the River’ is as rapturous as it is
sinister. And that’s probably where Devendorf wants it.

There is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it anecdote tucked into one of the many fine documentaries about seminal 20th Century artist Jean-Michel Basquiat regarding the habits of his studio practice. As we watch inspiring footage of Basquiat darting from one piece to the next with rapid-fire brush strokes, a friend or gallerist in a voice over says that it was not unusual for Basquiat to be working on several paintings in the same moment as several radio stations and televisions played in the background. Not much more time is spent on the anecdote, but it feels like a skeleton key into Basquiat's endlessly alluring, neoexpressionist work. And while Bryan Devendorf's solo curio `Royal Green' doesn't possess the only-in-New York vibe of Basquiat's work, there is something shared in its many-channels-open style of creation. Satellite signals, strange voices from lost television documentaries and radio operas are all woven into its fabric _ like it's using these endless tides of media and information to unlock the subconscious. Even its covers _ Bob Dylan, Fleetwood Mac, The National (with a nice big wink), The Beatles _ are like stunning, albeit satanic takes on hymns, or like American standards almost dragged into the underworld. Like the best of Spacemen 3, Sparklehorse or massively underrated San Fran band Skygreen Leopards _ the music makes you queasy in one movement and lulls you into blissmode in the next. It's the very edge of outsider pop songwriting. For all the amphitheaters and festival fields Devendorf has played to over his career, `Royal Green' almost feels like an un-learning and a newfound love of homemade/found/fractured sounds _ and how, if collaged just so, detritus can become stunningly gorgeous and surreal. And not without hooks. Look no further than "Frosty" which could be Little Billy Corgan's decayed demo tape from just before the Smashing Pumpkins appeared on the scene. And the unspooling, slightly unglued dream-pop of "Breaking the River" is as rapturous as it is sinister. And that's probably where Devendorf wants it.

Considering He Was A Self Taught Pianist, Brian Auger's Progress Into The Heart Of The British Modern Jazz Scene Of The Late 1950's And Early 60's Was Particularly Impressive. He Gained Invaluable Experience The Hard Way, Paying His Dues At The Cottage Club, And The Original Ronnie Scotts On Gerrard Street, Working With Renowned Saxophonists Tommy Whittle, Dick Morrisey And Jimmy Skidmore - And Sessions In Smoky East End Pubs With His Friend, Arguably Britain's Greatest Jazz Saxophonist Tubby Hayes.

The Inclusion Of Several Of His Rare, Early 60's Piano Trio Tracks On Both Volumes Of 'back To The Beginning - The Brian Auger Anthology' Brought Long Overdue Attention To Brian's Early Jazz Career, Which Many Were Simply Unaware Of Prior To Their Release. The Enthusiastic Reaction To Those Tracks That Stuck In Brian's Mind, And Later, Fate Intervened, As He Himself Explains, "a Couple Of Years Later, Ken Greene, The Music Director Of Bogie's, Called And Told Me That He Was Starting A Project, To Whit, A Week At Bogie's With A Different Jazz Piano Trio Each Night".

The Material Brian Decided To Play Features Tracks From A Selection Of His Musical Influences, Heroes And Friends Including 'chelsea Bridge' By One Of His Favourite Composers, The Great Billy Strayhorn, Freddie Hubbard's Ever Green 'little Sunflower', The Much Loved Standard 'there Is No Greater Love' Which Brian Used To Play In His Original Early 60's Piano Trio, And His Own Composition Victor's Delight He Wrote A Tribute To The Great English Jazz Musician Victor Feldman Who He First Discovered Via His Tenure With The Cannonball Adderley Quintet.

Surprisingly, This Is Brian's Very First Jazz Piano Album Of His Illustrious And Award Winning Career, And Marks A Return To The Instrument And The Music That First Entranced And Enthralled Him As A Young Boy. His Musical Journey, Which Began In Austere Post War London, And On Which He Absorbed So Many Varied Styles Of Music, And Literally Took Him Around The World, Enrapturing Audiences Worldwide, Has Indeed Come Full Circle.

Long Out Of Print Tune Produced By Rupert Billy Green For His Hard Rock Imprint, Out Of Waterhouse, Kingston Jamaica. Taken From The Original 1986 Metalworks.