Bob James, Jazz Café, London

Sholto Byrnes
Monday 17 November 2003 20:00 EST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Bob James is a name some of us feel the need to whisper softly. He is at least partially responsible for the growth of smooth jazz, although, to be fair, when he was recording his mammoth studio albums in the 1970s (titled, rather marvellously, One, Two, Three and Four) and adding wah-wah guitars to Bizet's L'Arlesienne suite, he could not have known his successors would forge a music of such terminal blandness.

But there's always been a bit more to this pianist, quite apart from the fact that he has come up with a few very catchy tunes, such as "Angela's Theme", from the television series Taxi. Just underneath the commercial gloss lurks a musician of complexity, and in live performance he's more willing to emerge. So although the vast majority of the material handled by his quartet at the Jazz Café (Dave McMurray on sax and flute, James Genus on bass, and Billy Kilson on drums) was palpably "smooth" in origin, it was lifted above the genre by small touches - some Eddie Harris honks from McMurray, the fact that Genus was playing upright bass, and a series of solos by the leader that contained moments of unexpected spikiness.

One can hear in James's spare, ultra-clean right-hand soloing a link to Basie. Both pianists, like James's contemporaries Dave Grusin and Joe Sample, know the value of the carefully-placed note rendered all the more effective through the splendour of its isolation. James also showed off his command of other styles in several passages of Modern Jazz Quartet-style baroque swing, one of which appeared in a version of "Downtown". (Bizarrely, this was James's tribute to Glenn Gould - because, we were informed, the great classical pianist was a fan of Petula Clark.) This, along with "Nardis", a nod to Bill Evans, managed to outweigh the tight but pointless grooves that are also a James trademark; in one such he doubled the offence by sending Kilson offstage and - shudder at the thought of it - switching on a drum machine.

The encores consisted of two tunes that Bob James has probably played in every performance for 20 years - "Westchester Lady" (from 1976's Three) and "Angela's Theme". The crowd roared their approval at these two simple but effective tunes. If their enduring popularity shows anything, it is the incredible power of the riff. To master it in the way James has done, placing it in a musical context that never threatens or puzzles his audience, but just manages to remain on speaking terms with real jazz, is an achievement.

A smooth jazz sweetie is OK now and again, and at least the Bob James variety isn't all sugar coating.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in