Gene Ammons

Despite the Leopard's never-ending search of discovery for all things jazz, the name Gene Ammons has not perked up my furry ears until fairly recently. A friend hipped me to a funky date from 1971, You Talk That Talk, that partners Ammon's huge saxophone tone with the ultra - elastic big boss tenor of Sonny Stitt one of their many recorded collaborations.

Other than being a remarkable player with formidable chops, Ammons boasted two claims to fame: one, although he came from a bebop background, he was also equally adept at R&B, and was one of the original architects of what is now called soul jazz, and two, the big man was twice incarcerated for drug possession in his career, from 1958 to 1960 and  from 1962 to 1969.

Checking out his catalog has shown that we suffered a huge loss when Ammons passed away of cancer in 1974. He was funky and cerebral at the same time -- a lethal combination.

(Click to hear cut Jungle Strut from Ammons' album "Brother Jug")

Good Ol' Charlie Brown

Of all characters in literature, one I have always felt the most personally connected to is Charlie Brown. There was always something in his persona that I related to, from childhood all the way to my early 20's - and still do, in away. when I see his image, I can feel myself quietly nodding in recognition.

In his voluminous biography on Charles M. Schulz, Schulz and Peanuts, David Michaelis describes Charlie Brown as not an alter ego of Schulz, but Schulz himself. Most of the Peanuts characters were in fact manifestations of people whom the cartoonist knew, funneled through his brilliant minds' - eye,  like the Little Red Haired Girl, the one that got away, and Snoopy, based on an actual childhood pet. 

But as accurately as he rendered these relationships, Charlie Brown was the most realistic of all. the eternal optimist, always bracing for failure. Like his creator eventually would, you knew somehow, some way he'd succeed. He would kick that football, he would eventually untangle that kite from the tree.  

That's why he was the kind of guy you called by his full name.  So you wouldn't forget it.

The Incomparable Mr. Shatner

And now, Let us all bow to that god among men -  William Shatner.

Mr. Shatner cracked my iphone. Well, not really. His presence cracked my iphone.

This Summer, the Leopard was invited on board the Intrepid aircraft carrier near the West side highway in New York for a screening of a new documentary, ‘The Captains”- essentially interviews with several actors who played “captains” on various Star Trek TV shows and movies – directed by the original Captain himself, Shatner.

While waiting outside the vessel among hordes of  Trekkers and Trekkies, a black van pulled out by my group outside the gates. Sure enough, emerging from its confines was the man himself. Rotound, balding, well-dressed and radiant. It was a surreal experience to see. This man, whom I have watched on various screens for most of my life, was standing 6 inches in front of me.  With that unmistakable smile, he offered a beefy outstretched hand for me to clasp. At that moment, my iphone slipped away, falling to the ground, and I could tell by the sound it made that the glass had shattered.

By the time I reached down to pick it up, Captain Kirk was gone. But it was worth it. For now, every time I answer the phone or make a call, the memory of my brush with greatness brings a tiny smile.    

Chick Corea ""From Miles" band at the Blue Note

There was a moment this week while attending a concert at the Blue Note Jazz Club with the brilliant jazz chameleon Chick Corea and his sturdy From Miles band - Wallace Roney on trumpet, Eddie Gomez, sax, Jack Dejohnette, drums, and Gary Bartz bass,  when the walls of the esteemed club seemed to fade and the sounds of the streets outside grew silent. All that mattered was the direct communication between the musicians and the listener, and every sound - the light crash of a cymbal, the blast from a horn, the touch of a piano key, - took one out of everyday existence.

We felt transported to another time and place, maybe where Davis' band played in some small club -- The Keystone Korner in San Francisco, maybe - with many of the original musicians present.

The bright, serpentine horn of Roney, flawlessly channeling Miles' unmistakable sound, was like an organic time machine. When I closed my eyes for a moment, I was sure I was as close to experiencing the 1974 era Miles Davis band as I would ever be.

Thanks, Chick, for bringing us back Miles, even for a moment.

The ones that get away

(Click to enlarge)

One of the hazards of the illustration business is when a project doesn't come into fruition. Case in point: The Leopard was commissioned to do illustrations for the excellent jazz saxophonist Steve Lehman's latest CD package. We had a few inspiring conversations and a lively repartee. I really felt we were on the same page.

In a timely manner, Lehman dutifully sent me photos that I would use as references, and after a couple of false starts, I began to work on drawings.   I was having fun. I happily sent the art off to Steve and awaited his response.

Lo and behold, Steve sent an email back that he liked what I did, but he had quite a few suggestions. Well, in fact, many suggestions. I couldn't believe how we could be on such different pages conceptually. After reading all his requests, I realized that my style and his style simply would not mesh. So we agreed to part ways. It's sad, and I had never had this happen before, but I really wanted him to be happy. His music is so good, he needed someone who could visualize it the way he saw it in his mind.

The Female Voice download compilation

This is a first of a series of compilations that I will be offering. Each one will have a unique theme. This first in the series centers on jazz and jazz influenced vocal performances that I have been enjoying lately. Featuring: Nina Simone, Patricia Barbara, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Tracey Thorn, Fontella Bass, Keiko Lee, and others.

Download links are below:

Part 1
http://www.box.net/shared/7ud3oiv87u7n7v8mk3c3

Part 2
http://www.box.net/shared/xh7kzatkbtcm2ysh36bn

Part 3
http://www.box.net/shared/qp4f91e1qroxdg1i33f0 

Part 4
http://www.box.net/shared/8nr2ysuu96epdyi5hidf

Part 5
http://www.box.net/shared/e4msojc45rgxat26nk0h

Part 6
http://www.box.net/shared/87bndojcflqoejq4zt7v

Enjoy!

She Kills

The Leopard first became aware of the exciting rock vocalist Alison Mosshart in the video "Treat Me Like Your Mother",  an early single from the band The Dead Weather.

In the video Mosshart, in a weathered black leather motorcycle jacket and dark aviators brandishes a machine gun while advancing towards band mate Jack White in a barren field. She savagely fires at him while White fires back with a matching weapon in a weird game of "chicken".  By the end of this volatile mini-epic, both end up riddled with bullets.

There was something about the swagger of this woman, the precise growl of her singing and the way her long dark hair covers most of her surprisingly soft features that intrigued me. I downloaded the album the single came from,  Horehound,  immediately.

The Dead Weather's music, a thrilling retro mixture of garage rock, both funky and fuzzy, is a loud treat to the ears, especially on their even better second CD, Sea Of Cowards.  Mr. White sticks to the drums and vocals on these efforts, but you don't miss his striking innovative guitar work from The White Stripes. when he and and Ms. Mosshart sing, or more accurately, scream together, they share a wonderful combustible energy.

Link to Dead Weather video "Just Like Your Mother".