Malcolm McNeill

Press, 26 August 1986, Page 10

Malcolm McNeill

Recital by Malcolm McNeill and Band at the Centre Gallery, Arts Centre, yesterday at 1.10 p.m. Reviewed by Allan Francis. Malcolm McNeill having become something of an institution in Christchurch, if not New Zealand, the responsibility rests on his initiative and vocal powers to keep on producing fresh material and new ideas to maintain his high record.

Those who surrounded him yesterday were not strangers to the jazz scene either, and the weight of talent, combined with experience, showed to advantage in a bright programme.

A younger group than usual, consisting of Keith Petch (guitar), Kere Buchanan (drums), Jevan Telford (bass), and Jonathan Crayford (piano), they maintained tight harmony patterns and a powerful driving beat.

The fact that I cornered the last available seat indicated that Malcolm McNeill had lost none of his following, all keen to note once more the singer’s prowess on the concert platform, after long sojourns in smoky taverns and noisy audiences with only half an ear. 4

Here, in the Arts Centre, the singer enjoyed the full centre of attention, the prospects of a new album, with a fresh (more or less) repertoire of songs, plus the chance of trying them out. There were many powerful moments for the four musicians, too, all reluctant to yield the front harmony line. They gave more than mere support — everyone was on equal terms, filling every possible gap with surging music.

Most of the opening numbers were medium or fast-pace swingers, "Autumn Leaves” being taken at a clip that gave everyone a chance to roll up their sleeves and breathe new life into an old tune; likewise the Latinesque Spiro Gyra number that followed.

It was essentially a modern programme though. The minor lapses in harmony between piano and guitar soon mended and the full sensitivity of the ensemble made its mark. “Summertime” with a lazy beat, heralded the singer, pianist and guitarist exploring long, lyrical lines that were far more than mere decoration. If Malcolm McNeill wanted to shake off the

"jazz singer” tag, it would have been well nigh impossible under these circumstances, for this was pure jazz of the highest order, laced with imagination and humour.

More off-beat rhythms soft, samba-like tunes filled the central section of the programme before he returned to the older, trusty lines of “Funny Valentine,” “Wheelers and Dealers,” and an original by Doug Caldwell.

For those who need reassuring on Malcolm McNeill’s vocal powers, there is no loss whatever of technique; indeed, the warm tenor seemed to be better than ever with this group.

His important choice of musicians puts him in the same class as Woody Herman and Benny Goodman, who possessed the same unerring skill with successive combinations. Tasteful too was his choice of songs, gracefully allowing the instrumental section complete freedom in one number that would come out different each time; the singer encouraged solos throughout every item.

The unanimous decision was for warm appreciation of all that was done (a complete absence of scat) —- a thrilling, well balanced performance.