Free jazz jams, mobile phones and it’s all out of tune

AUDIENCES come as varied as performers and the Cork Jazz Festival is no exception. While some of the crowds were getting mellow on melodies, others were being challenged, if not downright confused, by sounds not so easy to hum along with.

Free jazz - or improvised solos and jams that ignore the normal rules to music-making - have a solid following Lee-side judging by the crowds at the Guinness Festival Club in the Gresham Metropole Hotel last evening.

But there’s always someone who sums up what many are thinking but are afraid to ask.

Yesterday it was a middle-aged male with a Kerry accent who asked rather loudly, “Are these starting or finishing?” right in the middle of a saxophone solo.

His fairly straightforward question was left sitting in mid-air for a few moments before he chipped up again and a younger man at the bar nervously suggested that they were finishing.

“Jaysus I hope so,” the elder man replied, while desperately trying to catch the attention of the barmaid to order another drink.

One woman, who was obviously acquainted with the 1960s free jazz movement, stared with disdain.

Other members of the audience struggled too and some answered their mobiles during the most intricate moments of the clarinet solo. “Where are you now?... We’re in the Metropole. It’s jammed.”

That wasn’t all though, and the free jazz had to compete with an exhausting set of directions on how to get from Oliver Plunkett Street to the festival club.

Another girl kept looking into an almost full pint of cider and every time the free style stepped up a gear she seemed to wobble precariously for a few seconds.

The she recomposed herself and would listen intently to a rhythm only the most educated ear heard.

Others just lay on the floor of the hotel hallways to hear the combined sounds of about four bands performing in different rooms.

Some huddled in groups and stretched out on the floor as if it was the turf of Slane Castle and they were waiting for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

But this indoor venue was even hotter than that sunny day in Slane, with beads of sweat following down the brows of even the coolest jazz aficionados.

For some it was all too much - one women sat in a corner on the ground floor reading a John Grisham novel while a black haired French girl laughed hysterically on the phone in the hallway.

Across town the world’s greatest harmonica player, at least that’s what Bono said, Don Baker was performing in the Office Bar.

Out on the streets performers such as Mr Crow juggled fire while balancing on a ladder and later Sharon Shannon played to a large audience in the Opera House.

If €20m is spent during the weekend then another €5m will be forked out by jazz lovers today- the day those working all weekend hit town.

And there might even be few lads playing that free jazz stuff.