RKScarr's blog

This evening’s gig at the Barbican is listed as Soulbop (legendary brass players Randy Brecker and Bill Evans) featuring Medeski, Martin & Wood. However right from the off it is evident that this billing is wrongly aligned. This is an MMW gig with a guest brass section (albeit a rather superlative one) as the swerving, sliding grooves of Chris Wood’s bass playing lurches the performance into a giddy loping rhythm while John Medeski attacks his Hammond B3 as if he were scolding it for naughty behaviour.

Its twenty years since MMW first formed and the almost telepathic way these three musicians play as a unit is often commented on, but watching them in the flesh (and they are a treat to watch: shaggy-haired Billy Martin pounding away in a fury of beard and sweat whilst pencil-thin Hugh Dennis lookalike Woods stares bug-eyed at the various players around him as if one of them might try and steal a shiny sixpence from his trouser pocket if he wasn’t attentive enough) is always a joy. However whilst it is clear that Medeski calls the shots, this is not to disparage what was some breathtaking playing from Brecker and Evans, particularly the latter as his sax soloing, full of verve and ingenuity, made for exciting listening. Brecker was no slouch either and both parties seemed energised by the pushing, exciting work of the band behind them. A shortened set (due to flight delays) meant that some of the audience were a little disappointed when no encore was allowed due to the Barbican’s curfew, but there was no doubt that, just as their previous visit to the Barbican when they were accompanied by John Scofield – MMW remain a peerless keyboard-led trio whose best work seems to evolve when they accompany musicians as classy as themselves.

Joey Defrancesco is an B3 player of stature in more ways than one. As he slowly ambles on to the Ronnie Scott’s stage one is immediately taken aback by the sheer physicality of his presence. He is a commanding figure once seated at his keyboard, and is swift to demonstrate his mastery of the instrument. Playing in an unusual trio format of organ, piano (Massimo Farao, rather inexplicably wearing a Charles Mansion t-shirt) and drums (the intriguingly named Byron ‘Wookie’ Landham), Defranceso promptly breathed new life into an opening salvo of light-jazz standards ‘Bye, Bye Blackbird’ and ‘Fly me to the Moon’, tunes which most credible twenty-first century jazz acts would wilfully avoid, yet the depth of his imaginative improvisational skills renders them fresh.

If there was a theme to this evening’s performance it was fun, as the two keyboard players traded riffs, attempting to confuse Landham by creating inadvertent off-beat pauses, and laughing heartily at each other when the other pulled off a sublime flashy run or solo. When a young Italian vocalist joined them to croon for a number in the second set, the pair of them swapped knowing winks as each attempted to insert the most obvious clichéd motif they could find while their singer (jazz hands, emotional shoulders) seemed oblivious to their high-jinks. Ultimately though it was Defrancesco’s outrageous right hand, running across the B3’s top manual like a bewildered spider on amphetamines, that made the evening a triumph. If only Jess Yates was alive to see this, ‘Stars on Sunday’ could have been a whole different program.