There are many reasons why pop groups might re-form. But let’s face it, there’s really only one reason why pop groups do re-form – and that’s to top up their pension funds. At the end, somewhat disconsolately, I went home and listened to Miles Davis to remember what the music sounded like. The arrangements are carefully layered and interposed with voice samples and rumbling electronic textures that recalled early Kraftwerk.But the two guitarists in the band relied too much on ethereal noises that sounded like the jazz- gig standbys of West Coast rock players. Isham plays the trumpet quite beautifully in the group’s repertoire of Miles Davis tunes from the electric, Zawinul period. When the bassist, Victor Bailey, sang a song in memory of Weather Report’s great, late, bass player Jaco Pastorius, that was the one genuinely moving moment in the set.Isham’s band were hot-shots too, but there was a definite structure to the performance.
As this was the final date of a five-week European tour, the group was not so much hot as positively steaming, but the easy virtuosity can’t help beg the question as to what is the point of the whole thing.In contrast to the sublime melody of “In A Silent Way”, there is no satisfying holding form for the relentless instrumental brilliance and in the end it’s perhaps little more than an inspired jam. Isham’s performance of the classic Davis-Zawinul repertoire was, Joe said gruffly, the first time he’d heard the music in 30 years.The music Zawinul makes now may look to the future rather than the past, but the spectre of Wakeman still hangs rather heavily over the massed banks of his keyboards. But although Joe may be a jealous guy, he’s certainly not a nostalgic one. But despite the “Visions of Miles Davis” tag, Zawinul refrained in this show from playing any Miles Davis material, probably because of the feeling that he wrote much more of it than he was credited for and the denial of copyright still rankles.While Mark Isham, the trumpeter who opened the show with his group The Silent Way Project (named after Joe’s song), spoke in praise of both Davis and Zawinul, Zawinul himself kept schtum.
Arriving on a scholarship to Berklee College of Music in Boston in 1959, he soon abandoned his studies to work as a pianist with Cannonball Adderley, for whom he then wrote the soul- jazz hit “Mercy Mercy Mercy”.Recruited by Miles Davis for the albums Bitches Brew and In A Silent Way, Zawinul helped create the new sound of jazz-rock fusion, before he and saxophonist Wayne Shorter left to set up Weather Report. Something still isn’t working and the roadie looks seriously scared, but Zawinul must be mellowing now. He simply shrugs fatalistically and gets on with the job – although you can’t help but think he might get in a few sly rabbit punches during the drum solo.For someone born in Vienna, Zawinul nevertheless has an impeccable track record in funky, Afro-American jazz. It’s loud and full of darting, spring-heeled changes that invite the use of the adjective “muscular”.The guitarist scratches away on a repetitive riff while the bassist unleashes a constant rolling thunder of deep, staccato notes.
A drummer and a percussionist maintain a polyrhythmic pulse of truly heroic proportions, fattening up the groove into a thick, lip-smacking soup, as if they’re going to eat it for supper afterwards.Deep within the recesses of his enclosure, Zawinul directs the band with pointing fingers and sharp glances, in between pummelling the various keyboards. Although he turned 66 this year, Zawinul still likes to keep fit by boxing. That big barrel chest puffs out before him like a prizefighter’s and his music doesn’t take any prisoners either. By now, Zawinul is not best pleased.You wouldn’t want to be in the roadie’s shoes for any amount of money.
The roadie retreats to consult the soundmen at the side of the stage, then returns with a roll of gaffa tape, that all-purpose rock gig palliative. Anyone who plays that many keyboards and appears so hemmed in by the various boxes, gizmos and wires needed to operate them, can’t help but summon up the ghost of prog-rock’s most over-equipped piano player. Standing behind the bars of his prison of Korgs and Yamahas, the pugnacious Zawinul is made more pugnacious still because his kit doesn’t work properly.
In another echo of Seventies prog-rock, a black-clad roadie comes and lies prone on the floor behind him to fiddle with various wires, like a car mechanic sorting brakes There are strong words from Zawinul. Never mind Miles Davis, whenever Joe Zawinul is on stage you begin to have visions of Rick Wakeman It’s not really the fault of Zawinul. And with the sniping between musicians nowadays, you wouldn’t get that kind of turnout again.”.
