The Joymakers • Down Where the Bluebonnets Grow
I watched Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom the other night. I thought it was going to be a movie about music—it was not. Rather, it’s a
I watched Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom the other night. I thought it was going to be a movie about music—it was not. Rather, it’s a
When I’m not writing about jazz, I’m a kids’ science educator. It’s true—since 2020 I’ve run a small business which delivers workshops and parties to
I live in South West England, amidst the glorious rolling green hills of the Cotswolds—or, more accurately, the scruffier end of a medium-sized town in
It’s only been a few months since I reviewed The Hot Toddies’ self-titled debut album, which was released last year. I’d like to think that
I’ve mentioned Swedish songstress and multi-instrumentalist marvel Gunhild Carling here more than once before, generally citing her as an example of either a uniquely superb
I’d never heard of non-profit Jazz at the Ballroom before today. I’m glad I finally got wise to them, as they’ve been busily celebrating “America’s
Last year, I happened across an old copy of Talking Jazz in a second-hand bookshop. The 1987 memoir is a compilation of essays and other
It’s a country sort of month this month, with both my review records having a hint of the wide open prairie about them. I felt
I’m a little too young to have experienced the philanthropic musical phenomenon that was Live Aid. Organized by Bob Geldof in 1985, the iconic charity
I must be up front with you, reader, and confess that I’m no expert on jug bands—they never really piqued my interest. I guess I
Reader, you know I love a good pianist. And you know I love anything to do with France. So let me cut out the fluff
I was at Oxford Lindy Exchange last weekend, where British swing supergroup The Shirt Tail Stompers provided Sunday’s live dancing soundtrack. Before their set, bandleader
Over the five fascinating years I’ve been interviewing jazz musicians, a curious trend has emerged. It has interested, confounded and occasionally annoyed me—the last probably
I love the Mills Brothers. Any time I see one of their LPs in a charity shop I do a little “shoop-de-whoop-whoop,” accompanied by a
The Toddies are something of a supergroup. Led by celebrated stage composer Patrick Soluri on drums, the outfit boasts veteran bandleader Gordon Webster on keys,
I’m not much of a festival-goer, to be honest. I find myself getting a bit bored after two days of non-stop music and two nights
I’ve had a lot of unsolicited CDs lately, which have made up the bulk of my recent album reviews. And while it’s always nice to
I’d like to say that Britain is the spiritual home of jazz in Europe: we produced enduring heroes like Humphrey Lyttleton, Acker Bilk, Chris Barber,
For many musicians, the jazz life is a constant struggle for survival. The pandemic has only made things more difficult, with venues going bust or
Children’s music is trash, isn’t it? Take “Baby Shark,” or that Colomelon dross, or anything released by the cringeworthy cover factory Kidz Bop—it’s all a
I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again anyway: the true joy of vinyl is not so much having some superlative sonic
Some records you really can judge by their cover. Take the latest release by Jane Scheckter, for instance. There’s a picture of Jane on the
Work has had me on the road a lot lately, so that new in-car MP3 player has been a lot of use. (Promoters, take note:
With the UK state pension now standing at 68 for people born in 1987—and likely to rise further, given our shambles of an economy and