So, after lunching with one of Malaysia’s oldest jazz stars yesterday, I went to singing with two of its youngest phenoms today.

These boys.

I went over to R’s flat again for a play (as we jazzers call it) this afternoon (as we jazzers call the morning); and he brought in his two sons, L, who’s just turned eight, and V, who’s nine, to join us.

We’ll be doing a couple of numbers together at the street market festival at the end of the month (my last day in Penang, in fact), so we sat in R’s little music room and ran through two songs for that - ‘Little Sunflower’ and ‘Route 66′ - with V on piano, R on bass and L on his electronic drum kit.

It was really quite amusing/disconcerting to hear a grown man ask a little boy to “give us a bossa beat” - I felt like I was in a band with simply very small grown-ups - but the boys are really good players, and it was a total joy to sing with them.

Plus I like the idea of the average age of The Andrea Mann Trio being about 12. (Although clearly I’m going to have to be the one getting the drinks in on gigs.)

Our session came to an end when one of R’s many private students, a little girl, arrived. As I sat in his lounge waiting for a taxi (I told you: no one in Penang walks anywhere), I could hear her playing a simple piano tune for him; and it took me right back to the days when I used to go to my piano teacher for my weekly lesson. It made me think how lovely it must be to live in a house where music is taught; where you constantly hear that sound. Although that may have something to do with a comforting thought of childhood as with the idea of the actual reality of it: there may be only so many times you can stand hearing the same scales being played over and over again. And probably badly.

There are a few pics of the guys (and the architecture around where they live) here on Flickr. Plus a photo of a very cool gadget that the Family R have in their car:

Call me a luddite (”Andrea, you’re…”), but I’ve never seen one of those before. It just clips on where the passenger seat’s sun visor would normally be, and you control the volume with the normal in-car stereo controls.

The film the kids were watching on it was Enchanted (nice to know it’s not just for girls), and I earned massive cool points when I told them that I’d seen one of the movie’s scenes - bizarrely, the one which was actually playing as I got into the car - being filmed on the streets of New York last year. R’s wife J was a bit disappointed that I didn’t see Patrick Dempsey, though. But hey - as long as I impressed my new trio, that’s all that matters.

Never let it be said that I’m not Down With The Kids. My friend V put me onto this new single by a band called Alphabeat - and now it’s my gift to you this weekend. Enjoy (and click below for the video on YouTube):

‘Fascination’ has got ‘Radio 2′ written all over it, and reminds me hugely of at least one other record (the intro is ‘Mickey’ by Toni Basil… but the rest of it? Anyone?). But it’s fab, and over far too quickly.

There’s also something so clearly Scandanavian about it/them. I didn’t have to go to Wikipedia to work out that they’re Danish. (Although actually, I would have guessed Swedish. But then when it comes to pop, it’s all the same thing, innit?) And is it just me, or does the lead singer guy remind you of the skinny kid in Superbad? Especially when he wears the cardigan, for some reason. In fact: precisely at 1:08 in the video.

Music-wise, at least.

And I suppose other-wise. Or, indeed, otherwise.

The other night I did something I’ve never done before: and asked the band if I could “have a quick word, please” in the second break.

(Btw, I realise I’ve never actually explained: but I do three, 30-minute sets a night, the trio kicking off each one with 15 minutes of instrumentals before I then come on to sing for those 30 minutes).

To put it bluntly: I’d had enough of mistakes on tunes which really should be known by now; and of faffing around in between numbers while they find their music for the next song. It was partly the point, after all, of them asking me to write a set list every night, so that precisely this wouldn’t happen.

And the event which had proved to be the final, spectacular, jazz straw was the playing of one tune in two entirely different keys. At the same time.

So I called a band pow-wow. Which is a polite way of saying: a telling-off.

Not that I actually told them off, of course. We’re all adults and I’m not going to get all angry and school marm-ish with them.

What I did do was tell them that when we’re good, we’re great; but that things like not having our music together made us look unprofessional, and I didn’t want that; and that really, we shouldn’t be hearing mistakes like the ones we’re still hearing. And that every night the music is left on the band stand, while these mistakes are still being made.

Please, take the music home and learn the tunes you’re not sure of, I said. Please take time to look at the set list when I give it to you, to get your music together in order, and to ask about any arrangements you’re uncertain about. Just ask.

I think what upsets me most is the idea that maybe they just don’t care enough. I realise that they have much busier lives than me, and so it’s harder to fit in practice - and I told them that I understood this - but for whatever reason, two-thirds of the trio seem happy enough with making mistakes regularly (one third doesn’t, I must add). Or rather: they don’t seem that bothered by it.

Maybe this gig means more to me than it does to them… In fact, I’m sure it does. Coming here, having my name and face on a poster, having expectations on me - I want to do a great job out here. I want to do the best job I possibly can, and to make great music for people every night. I’m not sayig that they don’t; but clearly I’m setting more store by this gig, and that’s understandable.

As L very sweetly put it, the night of the horrible incident:

“You very dedicated! You very hard-working! You don’t come here for hanky-panky!”

And well, erm, no indeed, I didn’t.

Instead, I seem to have come here and become the jazz police. And yes, this week I cautioned some offenders. Slapped a couple of jazz ASBOS on them. Threatened them with ‘Giant Steps’. That’ll learn ‘em…Well, that, and making them play ‘Take The A Train’ every night.

So this is my new BFF: world, I’d like you to meet Band-In-A-Box. Band-In-A-Box, the world:

Band-In-A-Box, for the uninitiated, is a piece of music software. You simply enter the names of the chords as above, choose a tempo, a style and a key, click ‘Play’ et voila! Your computer plays a jazz trio version of ‘Old Devil Moon’. Or whatever.

I’ve used BIAB in the past, but generally for practice, and for finding the right key (you can transpose with a click of your mouse). ie. I’ve already had the song chart in front of me, in paper form, and then simply entered its chords and altered the style etc in the software.

But now, in pursuit of charts for jazz-ish favourites that are being requested here - like ‘That Old Devil Called Love’, ‘Moondance’ and ‘Perfidia’ - I’ve found that BIAB has come into its own.

Or rather: the BIAB community that exists online has come into its own.

Because on Yahoo! Groups, there are two groups whose sole purpose is to contain Zip files of songs - mostly jazz, but pop too - in BIAB format.

So you join the Group, click on ‘Files’, and therein lies a whole host of folders containing BIAB songs. You then download, say, the ‘M’ folder - open it, choose ‘Moondance’ (if you really must), and there it is, in the format pictured above. Ready to play and be tampered with for your singalong, transposing, and chord-taking delight.

And as you can see from my choice of song above (if you have eagle eyes, and/or play a musical instrument): I’m also using it for evil, as well as good.

**Update: I’ve just found a BIAB file for ‘Peg’ by Steely Dan! OMG. BIAB U R MY BFF.

To see the teeny tiny Malaysian cat, of course!

I realise that it’s hard to convey its size through a photo, but see above and note its placement by the table leg, plus the fact that I’ve just looked down and taken a photo of it like that, without a zoom lens.

That’s one teeny tiny feline.

I know what you’re thinking: where on earth did you espy such amazing fauna, Andrea? Well, the answer is over lunch today. Which looked something like this:

Ahh, how times have changed since my vegetarian days!

(That’s not a pool of blood, btw).

My lunch companion was J, the DJ at the jazz club, and our mission was not only lunch, but the purchasing of some jazz CDs for him to play in the bar.

J knows pretty much nothing about jazz - which isn’t his fault, but a natural result of playing ‘retro’ (what Malaysians call 80s) music, and suchlike, for local crowds. And a result of the Western Jazz CD Mountain.

The Western Jazz CD Mountain may be a figment of my imagination, but bear with me. I believe it is not unlike the EU Butter Mountain, etc - ie. one quick browse of Malaysian CD shops shows that there is clearly a paucity of jazz albums available in this country, which can only be explained by the overflow of jazz CDs available in, say, the combined branches of Tower Records in New York.

Fortunately the branch of Borders in Queensbay Mall contains the Penang Jazz CD Mountain, so we weren’t too badly off.

J insisted that we bought compilations - of uptempo, and latin, jazz - so we worked our way through the available options, with me enthusiastically explaining what was worth buying and what wasn’t, and trying to marry what I thought he should get with what wouldn’t scare the beejezus out of him. The result was this boxset and two compilations:

…those ‘Bar Jazz’ and ‘Jazz Remixed’ being Verve compilations, so not as dire as they might at first appear. And believe me, this was a lot better than the ‘Piano Moods’ alley J could have misguidedly strayed down.

Thank goodness for the jazz police!*

Together with the mix CDs I’ve made for the club, this should do J nicely for now. The mix CDs - which I fortunately burned before my Mac, and its 5,000 iTunes songs, died on me - contain all manner of upbeat jazz and jazz-related muzak (ie soul and funk), from Quincy Jones and Stevie Wonder to Vinicius Cantuaria and Brad Mehldau. I can’t tell you how great it has been to come off stage to hear some brilliant but relatively obscure track by Kate McGarry start up. And so my musical ambassadorship continues…

*speaking of which: who knew?

I have both taken the ‘A’ train, and been on Route 66.

Now, if only I’d been one of the Apollo astronauts…

I’ve been asked for a music update, so here you go…

1. Jakarta may not be happening. The person concerned has gone quiet on us; and as T pointed out, some people may talk the talk here, but not necessarily see things through.

2a. A customer who was in the other night, from Canada, chatted to me very enthusiastically and gave me his business card, and when I gave him mine, asked me for another one to pass on to the people at the Hilton Kuala Lumpur, because he stays there a lot and said he would tell them about me. I didn’t think much of it… Until I got an email yesterday from, yes, the Hilton Kuala Lumpur expressing an interest in me playing there later this year. The person in question is going to come over to Penang for the day (it’s about an hour’s flight) to meet me and here me sing. A gig there would be great: we’re truly talking Lost In Translation-stylee hotel, here…

2b. The girl who’s currently singing at the Hilton Kuala Lumpur has also emailed me, to say hello.

2c. As has the next person from London due to come out here to Penang, in June/July.

3. Gigs have been going fine. There was a crowd of women in the other night, who demanded ‘music we can dance to!’ which led to a massive medley of songs which left me slightly exhausted. And then last night was quiet again; although I did have my quickest request to join a group of customers for a drink yet, being accosted quite literally the moment I walked through the door.

The person in question was H, who’s something of a regular there, and who was drinking with colleagues and friends both Malaysian and American. He requested ‘Crazy’, and I duly obliged.

By the end of the night, his group had left and there were literally three people in the audience, which at least led us to be a little silly on stage, and to finish the night off with a request from the bar staff - ‘Bye Bye Blackbird’ - during which everyone in the band took a solo, L and I traded fours, and we ended up with all sorts of nonsense… As I said to L at the end: it was a classic case of ‘playing as though nobody’s watching’. In a good way.

The playing hasn’t been perfect, by any means, lately. But the guys definitely have their ears open more; and so even when something untoward happens, they are hanging in there and recovering better. I used last Saturday’s rehearsal to go through some more new songs; but, as I did previously, I’m going to use this coming one to go over them again and tighten up our arrangements.

4. I’m trying to find a good chart for ‘Sway’. And then ‘It Had Better Be Tonight’. Michael Buble - I give in.

After ‘Never Let Her Slip Away’ and ‘War Baby’, the song I’m now playing on loop is… this one:

It’s taken me until now - literally now: this week - to discover Steely Dan. One of those bands whose name I knew so well, but when growing up suspected they were some sort of folk outfit, like Lindisfarne. (Little did I know where they did get their name from).

But I’ve been hearing their name an awful lot in recent months; partly because they’re well-loved by jazzers.

So now I’m listening to their music for the first time - although of course it turns out I did know ‘Ricki Don’t Lose That Number’ and ‘Reelin’ In The Years’. I just didn’t know they were by Steely Dan.

‘Peg’ is just wonderful. And not just because it’s Michael McDonald on backing vocals.

Here’s a video of Steely Dan performing it live.

PS. You’ll also see on Lastfm/YouTube a link to a girl doing an acoustic version. Which is pretty cool. Not sure any acoustic version can equal or surpass the recording (no Michael McDonald harmonies, for a start), but it still sounds good, and she has a lovely voice.

PPS. Steely Dan are also clearly a huge influence on this duo, who are probably the best unknown band out there right now. Certainly one of the silliest. Make sure you listen to the lyrics as well as their music if you don’t believe me (I especially recommend ‘Modern Sleepover’, ‘All At Sea’ and ‘Please Please Me’). They’re a couple of friends of a jazz bassist I know; and a sort of Doobie Brothers-meets-Half Man Half Biscuit.

It hit me on Saturday night what the jazz club reminds me of:

Look at that big column in the middle. It’s the T.A.R.D.I.S!

It does look smaller on the outside, too.

Come to think of it: I realise that I haven’t blogged yet about the actual venue that I’m playing in every night. Very remiss of me. So here you go…

It’s a decent-sized, but not huge, room. Which means it’s pretty much the perfect size; because even when it’s a quiet night, it doesn’t feel too empty. I would guess that, at full capacity, it holds about 100 people.

The stage is directly ahead of you as you walk in; and the bar runs along the left-hand side wall (ie. it’s the view in the photograph above). There are a couple of cosy, circular areas (one of which is curtained off with one of those ’70s-style, string curtains), and a couple of high-seated tables, which is where the groups tend to congregate.

The stage is perfect - not too high - the sound system is excellent and sight-lines are good. Unless you’re sitting at the high-seated table directly behind the central T.A.R.D.I.S. control column (or whatever Doctor Who afficianados would call it).

In short, it’s a great little venue:

As you can see from that last photo, too, they have three large, framed black and white prints of Miles, Dizzy and Bird on one of the walls. Which is a nice touch.

In fact, I suggested to M today that they start to fill the other large wall, at the back of the room, with framed photographs of the people who play at the club - like they do at many jazz, and comedy, venues. Such as the 55 Bar in New York, a fabulous former speakeasy in Greenwich Village, where I took this photo (of this photo) of Anita O’Day:

I may not be Anita O’Day hanging on a wall in New York, but I may yet be Andrea Mann hanging on a wall in Malaysia. That’s Asian Jazz Famous for you.

J came up with another much-loved, but seldom-heard, classic in the bar tonight (last night? Egads, it’s another late one).

This song.

I used to play ‘War Baby’ on loop when I was a teen. And yet I’ve barely heard it, and it had disappeared from my consciousness, ever since then. Until last night.

Admittedly, again, it’s not jazz. But it’s at least jazzier than Andrew Gold’s ‘Never Let Her Slip Away’. And it’s just such a wonderful song. With quite possibly one of the best opening-line lyrics in pop.

(Note: that first link is also a download. Tom Robinson, rather brilliantly, has put all his album tracks up for free on his website here. Another track I loved from Hope And Glory is this one. Listening to it again now, I’m struck that even as a 13-year-old, I seemed to be (a) a romantic and (b) a nascent jazz lover).