Music – Page 13 – Ian Louis Harris

Christian McBride and Chick Corea, Wigmore Hall, 8 July 2016

An early concert (19:00) at the Wigmore Hall, as there is to be a late concert tonight as well. Hence we needed to head straight from the Tate to the Wig late afternoon after our gallery afternoon.

We enjoyed a drink and some nibbles while keeping an eye on the Murray v Berdych score, the latter activity being quite prevalent in the bar. Kindly, Murray finished off Berdych just before the bell for the concert.

Now I had been looking forward to this concert for yonks. Chick Corea would have been on my bucket list if bucket lists had been invented back in the day when I first came across him.

I enjoyed the sound (piano and double bass), although Christian McBride, as with his previous gig with Edgar Meyer, does too much of the “mutual admiration society” body language for my liking.

Chick Corea is clearly an old campaigner who just turns up and does his thing. Christian McBride is clearly in awe. None of this aspect pleased Janie at all. Nor did the jazz style.

“This is corny old rubbish”, whispered Janie to me after Chick Corea’s solo effort. A little unfair, I thought. You don’t win 60+ Grammy nominations for corny old rubbish.

In short, the concert pleased me more than it did Janie. It’ll be interesting to hunt for reviews over the next few days. Meanwhile, the Wigmore Hall stub will need to suffice.

Adam Walker & Mahan Esfahani, Wigmore Hall, 24 June 2016

These “Wigmore Hall Lates” always seem like a good idea when we book them, but unless we are out and about that evening, they always seem like a big effort late in the evening just for an hour long concert.

I placated Daisy for this one by preparing a dinner from Big Al DeLarge’s Emporium, Tavola. A veal ragu pasta preceded by a cold spinach soup.

Anyway, after the shock of the referendum result, we really didn’t much feel like going out but we did need some sustenance for the soul as well as for the body. This concert did the job.

It is only a few weeks since we last saw Mahan Esfahani at Saffron Hall with John and Mandy. I don’t think we’d seen Adam Walker before, at least not as a soloist.

Anyway the concert – set out in all its piece-by-piece glory here on the Wigmore Hall archive – was truly lovely and just what we needed. We both slept a little during the concert, but in a good way.

The positive thing from the Wigmore Hall’s perspective, is that these late concerts do seem to be attracting a younger crowd, which must be part of the purpose. The not such good news is that, in the absence of a big name, the hall is far from full for these.

Anyway, Janie and I both agreed that, in the end, it had been worth the effort to go out for a one hour concert starting at 10:00. But then, my flat is mighty close to The Wig.

A Groovy Happening In Cricklewood, Kim and Janie’s 60’s Party, 28 May 2016

This party was rather a long time in the planning. The date was set at least 18 months before the event. Kim’s birthday is late April, Janie’s is late June, so the last Saturday in May, which is also a bank holiday weekend, seemed ideal.

60’s as the theme, given the “big zero” milestone year both of them were to be reaching. It did help just a bit, of course, that Kim is in the themed party planning business. It also helped that several vivid imaginations went to work on the ideas.

On arrival, everyone was given a little bottle and a pewter cup (see photo above). People only heard 1960s style sitar music – the following playlist was playing on a loop: 60’s Warm Up Ravi Shankar To Beatles Playlist Final.

People were kept in a relatively small reception area, part courtyard, part entranceway to the Theme Traders site.

Actors dressed as Hari Krishnas welcomed new arrivals and mingled with the guests.

Then the Hari Krishnas led all the guests through the warehouse, past all the nooks and crannies that would later be party breakout rooms. At that stage the 60’s Warm Up Ravi Shankar To Beatles Playlist Final was playing throughout the warehouse.

In the garden at the back of the site, the guests were crowded into an enclosed area, not realising that the walls were paper and that behind the walls was a band ready to play and a barbecue ready to grill. In that area one of the actors was dressed as a guru. Janie had briefed him on the sorts of things to say, which ended up being a mixture of Timothy Leary, Beatles lyrics, general “peace and love” messages, getting people to chant back his incantations and the like.

It’s hard to explain why this was very funny, but it was. Some people seemed to be really into it. Only a small handful of us knew what was really going on; we of course egged on the guests, although they didn’t need much egging. Everyone must have realised that it was all meant to be a bit of fun.

Then the guru started to get very excited and even more rambling in his incantations, the drums started to roll and the guru tore down a paper wall to reveal the band.

With everyone looking towards the band, I realised that someone needed to make a start on the wall to reveal the food, which I did and found rather cathartic after all those months and especially the last few days of preparation. Soon others were helping me and the whole process probably took 5-10 seconds.

The band, Never The Bride, were really excellent. They are friends of Kim’s, or is it fairer to say that Kim is one of their groupies? Both statements are true I think. We’d seen them perform before at a small party at Kim’s house, but I hadn’t realised from that scaled down performance they had the oomph and repertoire to create a “60’s rock fest” atmosphere – but they did just that.

They performed two sets during the evening. The first had the most impact, naturally, but the second was a good “watershed” period for the party…

…a different atmosphere in the dark and a good foil for presenting the cake, butlers removing their trousers and other such merriment.

Between live sets, there was a DJ. We had supplied him with a strong playlist of sixties dance music…

60’s Dance Soul and Funk Top 100 Playlist Final

…but he played little from that and showed reluctance when several guests (including Janie) made specific requests, unfortunately. Later in the evening, I switched the sounds in the Mods breakout area (see below) to the above playlist so that some of us could have more appropriate bop.

Breakout Rooms and Music

The breakout rooms were fabulous. I curated different music for different zones, the playlists for which (but not the music) are all downloadable here:

60’s Surf, Lounge, Jazz & Tropical Playlist Final

60’s Folk, Hippy and Psychedelic Zone Playlist Final

60’s Carnaby Street, Quintessential Playlist Final

60’s Mods, Go-Go, Ska & John The Only One Dancing Playlist Final

Between the surf lounge area and the hippy psychedelic area was a small breakout room with everything upside down, “Alice In Wonderland”-like. When we went over to set up the sound the day before, Kim’s team were worried because there was so much sound bleed between those two other zones in that area. I listened for a while and realised that the very different types of music, one type coming from one side, the other type coming from the other side, created a very strange soundscape and decided that this was exactly what music in the upside down room should sound like! It became a real feature.

The actors changed from Hari Krishnas to characters from the Sixties and mingled around the party and the breakout areas. By way of example, here is a picture of “Andy Warhol” in the Hippy Zone:

Movie

One of the breakout rooms was a mini cinema, which showed an amazing short movie that Kim and Janie had made a few weeks before the party. It depicts the two of them talking about the heady days of the sixties and mingling with many big names from that era. It is really very funny. If you haven’t seen it and want to have a look at the movie, for the time being drop me an e-mail or a comment and I’ll arrange for you to see it.

Photos

There are loads of photos. For now, if you go to my Flickr albums area, you can see all the mini albums that friends have sent to me and Janie, click here. More are coming through and we plan to sit down with Kim and make up a consolidated album over the next few weeks.

More

I’ll write more about the food and the photos and the music in the fullness of time, but it is (at the time of writing this piece) nearly two weeks since the party, so the public deserves to read something about it by now. Although those of us who were there will struggle to forget this party…

…although they say that if you remember the Sixties you weren’t doing it right…so in that sense, I suppose, this memorable evening was contra-Sixties. Or perhaps uber-Sixties.

Anyway, it was fab and groovy. Peace and love.

Britten Sinfonia at Saffron Hall and Dinner With John & Mandy at The Tickell Arms, 15 May 2016

Janie and I arranged to see John and Mandy in their home town of Saffron Walden. They were keen to show off their new Saffron Hall. Luckily, we were able to find a suitable Sunday for all of us, with an appealing afternoon concert scheduled that day.

Saffron Hall 15 May 2016 — Saffron Hall Addendum

Janie and I played tennis in the morning at 9:00; an hour earlier than our usual Sunday slot. I was hoping to get away at 12:00/12:15, which didn’t seem too ambitious in those circumstances. Anyway, we set off just after 12:30 hoping the traffic wouldn’t be too bad. It wasn’t.

We checked in to The Cross Keys, where I had booked a luxury room. We parked Dumbo a bit awkwardly on arrival, as a large group of cyclists/diners had taken up one of the few proper parking spaces. When John & Mandy arrived, I managed to persuade one of the group to help me by moving the bikes a little so I could park properly, which she kindly did.

John whisked us off to Saffron Hall, which is in the grounds of the County High School. We hadn’t expected quite such a large and splendid hall in the circumstances; it can hold 740 people and has been designed in a modern, acoustically excellent style.

We were warned on arrival that Alice Coote, the intended soloist singer, was ill, so had kindly been replaced at short notice by Ruby Hughes. I think we have heard Alice Coote at the Wigmore Hall more than once; her CV is hugely impressive and her voice superb.

I looked at the addendum piece of paper (see above), half expecting it to say that Ruby Hughes is one of the better singers in the lower sixth, who has almost managed to get through Dido’s Lament without pausing for breath or singing too many wrong notes…

…but actually Ruby Hughes also has a most impressive CV and her voice was also superb. There was a small change to the programme, so we got the pieces shown on the scanned piece of paper above; similar to the original programme really.

It was a bit of a Wigmore Hall outreach gig, as Mahan Esfahani played the harpsichord in the Bach Keyboard Concerto (probably our highlight) and directed the Britten Phaedra (probably our lowlight). Janie and I are seeing one of Esfahani’s recitals at The Wig next month.

We also got two encores:

an orchestral version of a Bartok Romanian Dance
a version of a Chinese Fishing Song, orchestrated by someone who works in the Britten Sinfonia office, apparently.

The Britten Sinfonia had just returned from touring China. Slightly ironic, as John and Mandy were hoping to hear from Yining (their informal protectee) who is currently in Hong Kong trying to get back to Europe from China.

After the concert, we went on to The Tickell Arms for a really pleasant early dinner. Really good food and an interesting Languedoc-based wine list. A great opportunity to have a proper catch up and chat. Highlights were a pea and rocket soup and a superb roast pork dish. Mandy started with scallops and had room for some cheese as well; good for her. John was supposed to be on an alcohol holiday but the smell of the beer in The Tickell soon tempted him to break his fast.

After dinner, we showed John and Mandy our super room at the Cross Keys, then parted company reasonably early (perhaps 21:00 or so). I played Benjy the baritone ukulele briefly and then put on some 60s music, at which point Janie and I both fell asleep. I woke up at gone midnight to realise, to my horror, that the rather loud music was still playing. Just as well that luxury room of ours is quite isolated from the other rooms.

Monday morning, we had a superb breakfast at the Cross Keys and then, following John and Mandy’s advice, took a stroll around the stunning Bridge End Garden to walk off our breakfast. We even succeeded in entering and escaping the maze. What a pair of troopers. We won’t mention that the maze isn’t at all difficult, nor that we had to ask a couple of gardeners the way to find the maze in the first place. I admitted to one of those gardeners that needing directions to the maze is not an ideal qualification for a budding maze explorer. He replied, with a smile that “where is the maze?” is the most frequently asked question in the garden.

Enough excitement for one day – we headed back to London and spent the rest of the day picking up some items we need and sorting out some things that only seem to get sorted when you have a day off.

A delightful mini break.

A Most Unusual, Multi-Media, Transatlantic, Partially On-Air, Pop-Up Gathering by Part of the Old School Clan, 7 May 2016

I had been corresponding with my old school friend Paul Deacon on Facebook for the previous couple of days, sparked by:

As an aside, Paul asked me if Janie and I had listened to his weekly broadcast on The Grand At 101 lately. I had to admit we hadn’t. The show is on Saturday afternoons in Ontario, therefore Saturday evening here. Janie and I are almost always out on a Saturday evening – Ogblog postings passim attest to this fact. It must be more than a year; perhaps even a couple of years since we last tuned in.

However, our Saturday evening plans – feeding friends Kim, Michel and David – had, for practical reasons, been switched to Sunday lunch instead. As it turns out, Sunday 8 May is scheduled to be “sunny, hot, sit in the garden” weather, so the switch was fortuitous in many ways.

In short, we would be around, so I told Paul we’d tune in at least to some of the show. In the course of this correspondence, Paul Hamer (another old school friend) said that he would also tune in “while cooking his risotto”. At the start of the show, Paul Hamer evidenced the fact that he was listening and cooking risotto with this picture:

Paul Hamer Risotto Evidence — Photo courtesy of Paul Hamer

Indeed, Paul Deacon’s posting about his show and all the ensuing Facebook correspondence can be found here.

Once we were listening in, I mischievously sent Paul the following private message, which relates closely to the rag, tag and bobtail records we procured at the Slipped Disc all those years ago:

Ian and Janie messaging in from warm and sunny London. Would you be able to spin a 45 for us today? Ideally a Melodisc classic, such as Jolie La Ville Curepipe by the Alain Permal Mauritius Police Band, Agbogun G’Boro by Tunde Nightingale and his HighLife Boys, Bulgarian Betrothal by the Bulgarian Variety Orchestra or the classic Stop For The Music by The Nutrons. We and your listeners deserve nothing less.

Melodisc was a most unusual label – probably the first truly “Indie” label around – read more about it here.

Of course, I should have known better than to challenge Paul to play an unbelievably obscure 1960s record.

Soon after 20:00 our time, Paul Deacon broadcast a shout-out to Paul Hamer and played some rather unappetising sound effects in honour of Paul Hamer’s jumbo prawn risotto. Paul Hamer’s retort; a photo of said risotto in all its glory – makes better Facebook/Ogblog than it does radio…but it does look very appetising:

Paul Hamer Risotto Full Glory — Photo courtesy of Paul Hamer

I showed Janie the jumbo prawn risotto picture; she suggested I take a picture of the remains of our dinner and upload it. I made an executive decision not to do that. Even if people could imagine that fine meal from the messy carnage of (what had only recently been) a most impressive-looking roast duck…I wouldn’t have wanted to upstage Paul Hamer.

Then a few minutes later Paul Deacon broadcast a shout-out to me and Janie. Much to my embarrassment, he actually played Stop For The Music by The Nutrons as a request for us. “Truly terrible”, was Janie’s verdict on that obscure musical masterpiece.

When Paul (wisely) interrupted the track before the full 125 seconds of noise had completed, he played The Grand at 101 jingle. “Oh, so Paul also has a Room 101 for crappy records then?”, asked Janie. “No”, I replied, “101 is the FM broadcasting frequency of Paul’s radio station”.

To explain, if I put something on a music playlist that Janie really doesn’t like, it doesn’t simply get deleted from that playlist, it gets moved to a playlist named “Janie’s Room 101 Playlist”. The latter playlist would, in extremis, be played continuously on a loop if Janie ever were so badly behaved as to require sending to Room 101 for re-education.

Readers will, I’m sure, be unsurprised to learn that Janie’s Room 101 is more a theoretical construct or “empty threat” than anything approaching reality. She’s stronger than me for a start. Paul Deacon would be a little disappointed by some of the tracks that have ended up in Janie’s Room 101, but there’s no accounting for taste.

Meanwhile, Paul’s radio show. While simultaneously joking with several of us on Facebook, digging out obscure 1960’s Melodisc records…oh, and of course actually broadcasting a show an hour longer than his usual slot to cover for someone…

…Paul Deacon also told us that John Eltham (another old school friend of ours) would be joining him at the studio “any minute”, along with Rich Davies – yet another old school friend, who lives in Ontario near the Deacons.

I was aware that John Eltham was due to visit Paul and Rich this month, as John had mentioned the visit in correspondence with me a couple of weeks ago. I hadn’t twigged that the visit was so imminent. Indeed, while the broadcast was still going on, Paul wrote:

He’s here now! Just telling us about Rohan…

…the Rohan reference is to Rohan Candappa. I suppose in particular the “telling” was about a gathering we had a few months ago to see Rohan’s wonderful one-man show, which we now learn will be going to Edinburgh this summer – click here to read about it.

So, I woke up this morning to see these wonderful postings on Paul’s Facebook Area:

John Eltham and Paul Deacon in The Grand At 101 Studio

Johnny & Pauly On The Grand – Photo courtesy of Christine Deacon (I think) via Paul Deacon

Paul and Christine Deacon, Rich Davies and John Eltham dining together after the show – not a risotto in sight.

A Grand Quartet – Photo courtesy of the waiter via Paul Deacon

I reflect that this connected world of ours is truly marvellous. We can banter with old friends and listen to radio broadcasts across continents. Face-to-face visits across such distances are now affordable, practical realities also. But by gosh it helps if you can multi-task like Paul Deacon!

I Fagiolini, Wigmore Hall Lunchtime Concert, 11 April 2016

Daisy and I arranged a Monday off, in part because “that’s quite often what we do these days”, but this one in particular because I fancied this lunchtime concert at “The Wiggy”.

It turned out to be a fortuitous choice of date, as it coincided with Pady Jalali’s unexpected but delightful visit, which I shall report once I have finished this short piece; a link to which should appear, as if by magic, as a ping-back on this one once it is done. (Clever stuff, this WordPress blogging).

Pady toyed with the idea of joining us for the concert, but the train times from Manchester didn’t really work sensibly for that, so just Daisy and I enjoyed the concert, from our front row mafia vantage point.

Janie is not a great fan of Renaissance English Madrigals, especially those of the fa-la-la variety, but even she admitted that this short concert was a wonderful way to get a small dose of them without the irritation that arises from a large dose.

There was a lyric sheet available for 50p which I avoided. Not for the matter of 50p, you understand, but because making it too obvious that the lyrics were mostly about shepherds, shepherdesses, the merry month of May and a fa-la-la-la-la… would not have added to Daisy’s enjoyment. Worse, me singing along would not have added to anyone’s enjoyment.

The concert was broadcast on BBC Radio 3, will be broadcast again on 17th April and should be available on this link until 8th or 9th May. Yes, available until the merry month of May fa-la-la-la-la…

The ensemble entered wearing straw hats and carrying a hamper, an old badminton racket etc. The idea was to give the feeling of a spring picnic; an idea that worked better live than on radio, I’d suggest.

There were three examples of modern madrigal in our concert too – the running order is archived here – but for the encore I Fagiolini returned to the safer ground of traditional month of May-type material; Now is the Month of Maying by Thomas Morley. Plenty of fa-la-las to send us on our way.

Twee? Yes. But it was a lovely concert which set us up very nicely indeed for a relaxing afternoon and evening with friends.

Les Arts Florissants, Airs Sérieux et a Boire – Volume 2, Wigmore Hall, 4 April 2016

A concert of early French Baroque songs. They don’t come around in London all that often. I really wanted to hear and see this stuff.

Janie was not sure she wanted me to book this one, but when I said that I would go to see this one on my own rather than miss it, up went her hand asking me to procure a second ticket for her.

In truth, this stuff isn’t quite Janie’s thing; in some ways not mine either. Les Arts Florissants perform these Baroque songs semi-staged, putting various materials together into a thematic programme that feels a bit like an oratorio.

The centre piece of this programme is Marc-Antoine Charpentier’s Amor Vince Ogni Cosa, but the evening is interspersed with songs by other composers; Etienne Moulinié, Michel Lambert & Sébastien Le Camus. Heck, click the link to see how Les Arts Florissants describe the programme on their own web site.

Here is the Wigmore Hall Archive concert details.

The semi-staging is a bit twee and melodramatic. Janie quite enjoyed observing the audience in the interval, noting that most of the audience was similarly twee.

But the music is simply superb. Every one of the performers is a virtuoso. William Christie, the Godfather of Les Arts Florissants, singled out soprano Emmanuelle de Negi for special praise at the end of the concert.

I thought the young theorbo player was utterly exceptional, so was surprised not to find his name credited in the programme. A little bit of detective work, not least the Les Arts Florissants link above, reveals him to be Thomas Dunford, age 28. Here is a very interesting article about him and I agree totally that he is one to watch.

The other problem, from Janie’s point of view, was the very helpful surtitles, translating the song lyrics from French/Italian into English. This is a problem for Janie, because the subject matter of the songs is all nymphs, shepherds, unrequited love and such. She hates English Renaissance songs on such subjects but usually doesn’t realise that French and Italian songs of that period are similar naff topics.

I’m not sure why, but early Baroque songs sung in Italian always sound just a bit shouty, whereas the ones sung in French don’t, even if both are composed the same French composer; Marc-Antoine Charpentier for example. Perhaps he writes the ones to be sung in Italian in the Italian Baroque style. Not as shouty as Monteverdi, but still quite shouty.

Yet, in the hands of these wonderful musicians, even the elements that would normally irritate us are trifling details; it was a really lovely concert. The performers came back to perform two encores; both extracts from the eponymous Charpentier work, Les Arts Florissants. We’d have gladly stayed around for a third or fourth encore. A special evening.

The concert was broadcast live on Radio 3, btw. Janie couldn’t work out how the surtitles and semi-staging work for radio. I explained that they don’t but those are the elements she didn’t much like, so what’s not to like about the broadcast? If you are reading this within a month of the concert, you can listen on BBC iPlayer by clicking this link here. There might still be some useful information on this link after a month, for all I know.

“Esperar, Sentir, Morir”, Le Poème Harmonique, Wigmore Hall, 26 March 2016

By the standards of a wet Easter Saturday, the day had been quite sporty and exciting. Daisy and I played tennis, despite the shocking weather – the rain holding off long enough for us to get our game in, merely through gloom and howling winds. Then we stopped off in Ealing to buy some sports kit supplies “while stocks last”. Later, we watched England play Sri Lanka in a must-win game of the World T20, which England did in the end win, but not without a scare or two.

As the drizzle and high winds turned to heavy rain and near-hurricane, we agreed that we would have abandoned a lesser outing, such as a trip to the movies. But we were very much looking forward to seeing Le Poème Harmonique at the Wigmore Hall, so it would take more than wind and piss to keep us from tonight’s gig.

It’s ages since I gave business to the Wigmore Hall CD stand, as it is usually a better idea to sample and purchase downloads of music in the comfort of one’s own home. But on this occasion we got to the hall well early (unnecessarily allowing extra time for the inclement weather ) and I wanted to read more than was in the programme as well as hear some more later, so I bought a couple of CDs:

The first is early Spanish baroque, much based on folk music, quite similar to some of the stuff we were due to hear. I’m listening to the delightful Briceño as I type.

The second is later French baroque, unconnected with tonight’s concert but a recent recording by this ensemble and should be home turf for them. It is incredibly beautiful music, wonderfully rendered by this troupe on this recording.

It came as no surprise to run into my friend from the gym Eric Rhode and his wife Maria, forming part of our baroque concert front row Mafia.

It was a wonderful concert; incredibly accomplished musicians all. Claire Lefilliâtre has a wonderful soprano voice, well-accustomed and suited to baroque singing. Mira Glodeanu is a baroque violin specialist; I’m sure we have seen her before with other ensembles.

The concert was a mixture of Spanish and Italian baroque blending “street dance music”, such as it was back then, with courtly song music. The title of the concert, “Esperar, Sentir, Morir”, means “To Hope, To Feel, To Die” and is the title of the “closing number”. There were three encores after the closing number, but you know what I mean.

For the courtly music, leader Vincent Dumestre deploys his theorbo, but for the “street” numbers, he plays a beautiful looking and sounding baroque guitar. The bass viol player, Lucas Peres, plays the bass viol “on his lap, guitar style” for some of the jauntier numbers. The bass viol is about the size of a cello. The invention of bass guitar must have come as a massive relief to jaunty bass viol players everywhere.

But it is percussionist, Joël Grare, (or as he describes himself, “self-taught child of rock and drummer-percussionist”) who hogs the limelight in the raunchier numbers. He has an extensive collection of percussive toys on the stage, together with a baroque drum being kept warm on an electric blanket. His percussion is a mixture of sound and movement – some of his castanet interludes included some sort of baroque tap-dancing. For one song, he and the soprano briefly engaged in some flamenco/tango style interactions. Joel deploys puckish head movements and facial expressions as he moves around and percusses.

Checking out Grare the next day, I came across the album Grare: Paris – Istanbul – Shanghai, which I downloaded after a tiny sample and which Daisy and I have already enjoyed hearing several times. It is quite extraordinary fusion music and is absolutely delightful listening. I’m sure we’ll be listening to this relaxing music for many years to come.

So, not a cheap date in the end, but it was an exceptionally good one.

Christian McBride and Edgar Meyer, Wigmore Hall, 18 March 2016

Janie and I are huge fans of solo and small ensemble jazz at the Wigmore Hall; it sounds great in that place. We have encouraged “The Wiggy” to put on more of the stuff over the years and we were delighted when they came up with the idea of curated jazz series.

Double bass virtuoso Christian McBride is the latest jazz series curator. Based (or should I say bass-ed) on this concert, his first appearance as curator, he seems like a superb choice.

Neither of us had heard two double basses as an ensemble before. Should I call that ensemble a duet or quadruple bass? Anyway, the second bass player, Edgar Meyer, was also quite brilliant.

Both Christian and Edgar (you soon feel on first name terms) are composers as well as musicians, so we heard some of their own pieces as well as their take on some good bassy jazz standards. Occasionally one of them would take to the piano, but most of the pieces were double bass duets.

Between pieces, taking the copious applause, they looked like a bit of a mutual admiration society, each denying that the applause was for him and insisting that it was mainly for the other bloke. But that was the only slight irritation for us the whole evening. They are clearly good friends and have a wonderful understanding of each other when they play together, which is the important thing.

This concert was cool. Seriously cool. Elvis Costello was sitting in the audience about half way to the back of the hall and to the side – that’s how hot a ticket this cool concert was. I hoped to say hello to my old pal Elvis as we left the hall, but unfortunately his entourage appeared and grabbed his attention just before I got my chance.

Nicaragua, The Search For Music, 6 to 23 February 2016

When we travel abroad, I tend to spend some time finding out about and buying local music. Over the years, given our predilection for visiting developing nations, this has not always been an easy search and for sure the lagging end of my cassette collection, for example, was music bought abroad long after cassettes had become obsolescent back home.

Nicaragua proved especially challenging on the music front. I thought Leon would be our best bet as it has a reputation as a student town with a vibrant live music scene. But the live music scene seems well in decline, such that midweek there is no scene to be seen (or heard).

Our local guide in Leon 8 February, as reported in my blog for that day, drew a complete blank on both the matter of live music (probably because there really wasn’t any that midweek night) and CDs. We did a little bit better on the CD front under our own steam on 9 February, but only through the good offices and guidance of a nice man in the musical instrument shop, helping direct us to (possibly) the only recorded music vendor in Leon.

The Leon CD vendor spoke no English and probably would be minimally helpful in Spanish too. In broken Spanglish we asked for Caribbean-style Nica music and he indicated that no-one on the Pacific side of the country buys or sells that stuff. Instead, he talked us into buying a second Nicaraguan typica/folklorica CD, probably surplus to our requirements. Still, at about 50p a pop, the extra CD was not exactly a big deal to us. Perhaps more of a big deal to the vendor.

On a Spanglish request for modern music, he simply stuck two CDs into my hand; one named Bacanalero to Brutal, which is basically a various artists mix of Latin American merengue, bachata and salsa music, primarily from Dominican and Puerto Rican artists. This was similar to the response we got in Guatemala 12 years ago to a similar request – except that the Leon vendor didn’t put the CD onto a sound system so we could hear it and thus the locals didn’t all start dancing in Leon, unlike the Lake Atitlan Guatamalan menengue-dancing locals. The sounds on my Bacanalero to Brutal CD are reasonably up to date though and the disc has the reassuringly modern “2014” on it. The other CD was named La Cuneta Son Machin and the vendor signaled to me that this second one was “really the one” in his view.

Our attempt to get some Caribbean music with Guillermo the next day did not fare much better – he didn’t think Masaya would yield anything so we ended up in Granada where he picked up an MP3/CD with a bit of absolutely everything on it, including some Caribbean side music, including the recommended Dimension Costeña, but this is clearly even more of a low quality bootleg jobbie than the regular CDs you buy on the street.

When we got to Mukul, I did a bit of Googling and ascertained that La Cuneta Son Machin is becoming one of the most successful Nica bands ever – half populated by sons and nephews of Nicaraguan folklorico patriarchs Carlos Mejía Godoy and Luis Enrique Mejía Godoy. La Cuneta’s latest album, Mondongo, has just been nominated for a Grammy award; apparently the first time a purely Nica band has been nominated for a Grammy. We’ll find out whether they won while we are at Mukul. How cool is that? Well, just a little bit cool. And no, they didn’t win, but heck, to be nominated is still a big deal. Just don’t try saying “La Cuneta” in polite company after a couple of rum and cokes…

…anyway, it should be easy enough to get hold of this historically successful and current album, right? Wrong. We tried. Mukul itself only sells bog standard stuff – Putumayo world music CDs at over £20 a pop. Managua Airport shops? Not a chance. So in the end I needed to one-click a download of Mondongo from Amazon.co.uk…

Don't try saying "La Cuneta" in polite company after two or more rum and cokes — Mondongo by La Cuneta

…not exactly helping the Nicaraguan economy the way I had hoped (and boy does the Nicaraguan economy need help – the inability to buy local music locally is but one example of the commerce shortage in this country, which has in theory been a liberal democracy with an open economy for 25 years) but at least we were able to get our lug-holes around the album. Yes, it really does rock, btw, before you ask.

You can see, hear, dance and sing along to the amazing title track, Mondongo, on this link.

Try listening to it twice and see if you can avoid the infectious rhythm and sound being stuck in your head. This is the sort of track that could be next summer’s global craze. I encourage all Ogblog readers to open their windows and play Mondongo loud, to ensure that you and your neighbours are similarly infected, thus all dancing, clicking and buying the album. It’s the least you can do.

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