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The free-flowing interplay and high drama that infused this uplifting performance delivered equal portions of melancholy and joy. The aesthetic core was built on the rumbustious rhythms and skin-tight riffs of fusion jazz. But with the unusual line up of Gwilym Simcock’s piano, accordionist Vincent Peirani and Hermine Deurloo on chromatic harmonica, a miasma of folk-dance figures, classical references and campfire melancholy was in the mix.
The evening began with four finger-snapped beats cueing a twiddly piano line, accordion interwove a bacchanalian voice, and rhythms pulsed to an up-tempo beat. Sustained bass notes added hints of doubt while a plaintive harmonica theme sat mournfully over the rhythmic froth. The trio had established their close musical bond, and it never flagged.
Simcock’s compositions are built on unfolding narrative structures that combine multiple emotional shades. Themes bubble in unison, or, played on harmonica, emerge with a change of rhythm and key, and sustained vamps end in tricky unison stabs and riffs. Cued on the nod, they were delivered with the aplomb of an established working band yet, we were told, this is a new project, and this was their opening night.
The first two tunes, “Hypnotic” and “High Jinx”, were joined together and, like most of the evening’s repertoire, written specifically with this group in mind. Both were broadly upbeat with contrasting interludes and both were scattered with tidy themes, unaccompanied passages, sustained cadences and occasional dead stops. “More Than Those Words” came next, blues-tinged, bittersweet and melodically pure; then a sharp-angled Peirani complexity, “Air Song”, titled after the Indonesian word for water, which is “air”.
Later the accordionist’s “Did You Say Rotenberg?” followed a broadly fusion path, but most tunes were by Simcock, fresh-minted and with tales to tell. The episodic “Noventa Minutos” was named after the 90 minutes of a football match, “Love at Every Sight” celebrated the frolics of his two-year-old son; the downbeat “End of the Line” was unexplained.
Simcock’s firmly structured compositions leave ample room for soloists and group improvisation. Simcock was in his element delivering rhythmic thrust as a probing accompanist and let fingers fly as exhilarating lead voice. Peirani was equally on song, his jaw-dropping technique always sensitive to the ongoing narrative. Rhythmic taps, an occasional wheeze of accordion breath and vocal harmonies added colour and tone. But the lasting impression was of the trio’s mutual rapport and the tonal balance between Simcock’s cutting attack and the smoother textures of accordion and harmonica.
The evening ended with Simcock’s “Antics”, commissioned 12 years ago to launch London’s street piano initiative. The composition was first performed, with two dancers, to an audience of midday drinkers in east London’s then ungentrified Gillett Square. “Whenever you come to the East End,” one of the drinkers said, “don’t ever do that again.” Here though (performed without the dancers) the audience’s response was to call for an encore, Peirani’s “Fake Salsa”, with only a tinge of Latin.
★★★★☆
