[Live Show] Terence Blanchard at Blues Alley

I spent 2 hours with WPFW's resident "jazzologist" Jamal Muhammad back in November 2007. It was a great experience. Jamal is truly a treasure, sharing anecdotes and details about jazz at a pace in which I could hardly comprehend. I remember thinking "I wish I was writing all of this down." From talking about Bird's advice to Miles ("Learn the changes") to Duke Ellington's taste in women to describing why a certain, well-known, heavy hitting sax player is "a fucking asshole," Jamal knows his shit and isn't afraid to let you know it. That said, this post is about something Jamal got wrong.

I sat down with Jamal about 20 minutes before go time with a stack of my cds and a playlist in order of how I wanted to present my chosen music. (I was under the impression I had an hour to fill.) Not so fast. Upon going through my stack Jamal gave me some words of approval and some of dismay. The last cd in the stack was Terence Blanchard's A Tale of God's Will (a requiem for katrina). (I had planned to end the show with Funeral Dirge.) Jamal paused. In his worn, graveled voice, "Awww man. You want to play the dirge. The diiirrrge? Aww sheeeiit. It's just so damn slow, you know? I mean, it's a dirge!" I reply, "Yeah, I know, and I feel ya. But I love it. It's a powerful song." Jamal: "I don't know. You know, I like Terence. He's a good kid and a hell of trumpet player. But lately man, he's been doing that heady shit, you know. It's just too damn heady for people."

... ... ...

And so I ask you reader, have you heard this record? It says more with it's drums, bass, piano, sax, and trumpet than any speech I've heard, any words I've read, any pictures I've seen. It's a testament to the unrivaled depth of music's capabilities, striking the deepest, most guarded emotions --- anger and sadness, strength and beauty, hope and pride. You don't have to think about this music. It's music you feel. It peels away the layers of skin and bone, muscle and tissue and forces your heart to listen. Sure, it helps to understand the context of what inspired the pieces, an American tragedy unmatched in many of our lives. And yet it's not hard to translate this music to the great tragedies and crises of the current world landscape. The compositions capture the raw emotion of an incredibly personal, painful time and manage to transcend Terence Blanchard's own experiences at the same time. But do we really want to listen to something painful?

I read a review of Erykah Badu's New Amerykah: Part 1 earlier today (on Amazon) where the reviewer said it was okay, and that he understands and is all for an artist exploring their vision and all, but can't you have a little fun at the same time. Basically lamenting that the album just didn't have enough fun songs, something to play in the car, something not so serious. Well what the fuck times are you living in? I praise Erykah Badu for taking the risks, making a statement, and not worrying about if her record has enough catchy singles. It's a difficult thing to do.

Jamal explained more about why he wouldn't play the dirge, saying that people are driving home from a day's work and they don't want to be brought down. Explained that he was trying to bring the people some fun. You know Jamal, I dig. And what you do is important. But people need to wake the fuck up too and this is a serious record about serious shit and I don't really give a fuck if it brings people down. If it makes you feel sad maybe it will inspire at the same time. If it makes you feel angry maybe it will inspire at the same time. And after you've run through the range of emotions it may just lift you up... and inspire at the same time.

I feel New Orleans when I hear this music. I feel houses on top of cars. I feel people waiving signs on rooftops. I feel kids screaming at the Superdome. I feel Harry Connick Jr. pleading on national tv for help. And I feel our unfathomable, unforgivable, unforgotten response. And I wasn't even there.

So was there a live performance at Blues Alley in this somewhere? Yes, though I've pretty much said it all without even mentioning it yet. I had goosebumps I couldn't shake, a gripping, fierce chill over my upper body. When the opening phrases of Levees began and each member of the band closed their eyes (save the piano player), I couldn't help but think that each musician was calling on their own stories and memories that they hold close as a muse for the moment. And just as the band can't escape their personal stories attached to this music, neither can anyone who hears it. It is a gift.


Terence Blanchard, Live at Blues Alley, June 6, 2008 - 10pm

Mantra> Levees> Funeral Dirge> Bop bop, Badabop


I didn't record this show as Blues Alley does not allow taping. In lieu of this, I have Funeral Dirge embedded from imeem on the site (you can listen to the entire song here.) I also went looking for a live Terence Blanchard show online and came across a performance at the Monterey Jazz Festival from September 22, 2007. This show was performed with the Monterey Jazz Festival Chamber Orchestra and was a radio broadcast though the station's call letters were not given. While very different from the intimate quintet performance from this past Friday night, I have cut a mix from the Monterey show to represent the performance I just saw. I used the same setlist and order of songs though in place of the closing upbeat song "Bop bop, Bada bop" (which incidentally is a song with no official name per the band) I put in the upbeat Ghost of Congo Square with which they closed the Monterey show. Upbeat? Yup, through it all, Terence Blanchard manages to have a little fun, and implores you to do the same, telling the audience "If you want to get up, testify, dance, do whatever feels good to you... go 'head. Have a ball." This is New Orleans after all.

You can hear the mix here.


The Terence Blanchard Quintet is:

Terence Blanchard: Trumpet
Brice Winston: Saxophone
Derrick Hodge: Bass
Kendrick Scott: Drums
Fabian Almazan: Piano