November | 2011 | Brad Spurgeon's Blog

Jamming With Bruno Santos in Sao Paulo

November 27, 2011
bradspurgeon

Bruno Santos

One of the most rewarding aspects of my musical adventures around the world is the building up of a musical web of friends and fellow musicians – particularly the latter – especially those of the peripatetic kind like me. That is to say, meeting a musician at an open mic in Paris who I subsequently run into in Singapore or Tokyo or Shanghai or, as with this weekend, in Sao Paulo.

I’ve recounted on this blog such meetings as all of those mentioned above – most recently One Bourbon One Beer at the open mic in Tokyo – and a new twist was added to that sort of tale this weekend when I met up with Bruno Santos over the last couple of nights here in Sao Paulo. As we spent time together talking about our various projects and jamming (and I also interviewed Bruno for my open mic film) we learned that we had more connections than we thought, aside from those in Paris where we met at Earle’s open mic at the Lizard Lounge in 2008.

Bruno is a Brazilian now based in Sao Paulo, and with two Brazilian parents. But he grew up around the world, and has lived on every continent except Antarctica and in such notable places as Australia, Singapore, Saudi Arabia, England and Los Angeles – where he studied music – and a stint travelling around Europe playing music in open mics, which was when we met. As we spoke, we discovered we had both played in some of the same places in Singapore as well, notably the Crazy Elephant, where we had met some of the same people, like its jam organizer, John Chee.

As it turns out, Bruno, who is 25, has just begun to break out in a big way musically and in the media in Brazil. We had communicated periodically over Facebook since we met three years ago, but this was the first time we met again, and I happened to step back into his world at a very exciting moment: All of the major Brazilian newspapers, popular magazines and trade magazines – such as Billboard in Brazil – are writing big feature stories about Bruno and his self-produced album. He has also made appearances on national television.

Why all the attention? Well, it’s a very interesting story, and the music is damned good too. Basically, Bruno decided to return to live in Sao Paulo – and study at a prestigious business shool, by the way – to rebuild his roots in the native country in which he spent so little time of his life. But he also had this project going for a while for the solo album, entitled, “Time To Tell,” which he recorded in Rio, and partly in London and Sao Paulo.

The album is recorded entirely in English, as Bruno’s English is impeccable, since he grew around the world with his diplomat father and violinist mother, attending international schools. But the real catch, the real story behind the album, which has been exciting the media, is that Bruno did absolutely everything all by himself: He recorded the album with his own recording equipment, he wrote the lyrics and music to the 12 songs, and above all he plays all the instruments – beautifully – from the acoustic and electric guitars to the electric and fretless bass guitars, the drums, whistles, harmonica and other percussion, and even the back-up vocals to his fresh and melodious lead vocals.

But the personal side does not stop there: He had the CDs manufactured so professionally that there is virtually no difference in aspect to a CD from any of the majors. Of course, he credits an art director and designer and a photographer too, and although he did the engineering – he studied sounding engineering in London – and the digital editing and the mixing, he also credits someone helping him with that as well. Bruno found distributors for the physical product of the CD, and it is available around the world, and of course, in the top shops in Brazil.

His apartment near the famous Paulista avenue is rich in instruments, microphones, two drum sets, and a very clever studio in the room that is supposed to be the bedroom – you can see where his priorities lie.

So after a meal with Bruno and his friend Pati – pronounced Patchy in Portuguese – the first night, last night after my day at the racetrack, we got down to doing a little jamming together, both with cover songs and our own compositions. And Bruno gave me a lesson on using looping machines, which made me start to itch for that gadget for the first time.

All in all, it was a fantastic and unique sort of experience for me in Sao Paulo, as I had heretofore been condemned only to walking the streets looking for a jam – and now here I was with a bona fide Brazilian musician at his home, jamming. Well, let me take that back for a minute, Bruno is above all a bona fide international musician with Brazilian roots. And that is exactly what you take away from the music, some South American rhythms and feel to it, some jazz sound, some classic singer-songwriter feel and sound, interesting lyrics and great guitar and sense of time. Oh, and his voice is great on the falsettos too.

You can hear some of his music on his web site and also on Bruno’s SoundCloud space.

Anyway we might join up for a jam tonight in Pinheiros at the Sunday night jam I intend to go to, with other bona fide Brazilian musicians…. Let you know tomorrow or the next day when I return to Paris.

Diversity of Music in Sao Paulo

November 26, 2011
bradspurgeon

I have to do a very short post tonight as I was too busy at the race track in Interlagos and then went back into town and had a superb evening with a Brazilian musician, which I will write about tomorrow. But all of which meant that I have returned late and have no time to do the full post I intended. Suffice it to say that on my first full evening in Sao Paulo I walked through the streets of Pinheiros and Vila Madalena and went from one music place to another, and heard a HUGE variety of music.

From the solo guitar player singers in empty restaurants doing Brazilian music to the country duets in slightly crazier restaurant bars to the wild clubbing music piped into bars with clients spilling out into the streets to…. Take a breath… the crappy restaurant where I ate my crappy dinner simply because I was attracted to the pretty cool band that played all the rock standards – check out their Rolling Stones song on the video here… To finally returning to the Club CEM that I had visited last year and listening to several very interesting Brazilian traditional bands.

The Club CEM has a wonderful atmosphere of a loft, garage, venue. It is run by the pianist named Paulo, known under the stage name of Kannec. I jammed there last year with an interesting guitar player, but this year I returned anonymously and decided to listen to the evening’s musicians. It was a very, very open mic-like atmosphere but there had been several bands and singers booked in advance in an evening that appeared to be a showcase for local artists. All pretty much traditional acoustic music. But I just loved the vibe.

Tomorrow, I’ll write about the interesting young Brazilian who has been whipping up a whirlwind of talk around his just-released new CD.

Sao Paulo Adventure Begins

November 24, 2011
bradspurgeon

I arrived at my hotel in Sao Paulo last night after the dinner hour and in an area of the city where I have never stayed. So I felt lethargic and said to myself, well, too bad, I’ll miss a night of the musical adventure; it is too late to venture out into Vila Madalena and Pinheiros or Bela Vista to find a music joint to play in, I’ll just play in my room, eat somewhere near the hotel and forget about music for one night.

So I played some songs and then went out of my hotel – near the Republica square – and I began crossing the street to what looked like a busy bar or restaurant on the other side. Before I got halfway across the street I heard loud music from behind that sounded like it was a live band. I turned to see some popular cafe/bar with its doors wide open.

I immediately back-tracked and entered the place to find a large, community-like bar with a stage at the end of it, with two musicians, a young man and woman, playing some lively popular Brazilian music and some of the clients of the bar dancing in front of the stage. I ordered a hamburger and a Brahma beer and I set about listening to the music, observing the scene and suddenly remembering that you do not need to make all that much effort to find music in Sao Paulo. I had suddenly stepped into a festive, life-affirming moment in a neighborhood bar.

Unfortunately I had arrived a little late for the band, and they played only around three songs before they packed it up for the night. The woman sang and played guitar, the guy played a small drum set.

I then left the bar and decided to check out the one or two others on the street and suddenly my ears were accosted by yet more drumming. This was very lively, almost military or perhaps carnival-like drumming. It came from the square, so I immediately turned on my camera and headed over to the sound to finally find a big group of young people marching about the drumming. I foolishly did not approach them to ask what the occasion was. But I think it will not be the last time on this trip that I have a chance. This is Sao Paulo, there is music everywhere. (Finding an open jam session is not quite as easy over the weekend, but I have a few ideas in mind, one of which for the final day is a pretty sure thing….)

15 Minutes at the Airport

November 23, 2011
bradspurgeon

I’m sitting at Charles de Gaulle airport outside Paris and I board my flight for Sao Paulo in 15 minutes. I noticed that clients can now have 15 minutes of free Wi-Fi access through the Paris airport, so I thought that would be just enough time to put up the blog item I could not get up last night. It also reminded me of Andy Warhol’s statement about 15 minutes of fame, and I realized that with the Internet today EVERYBODY is famous – you just have to search a little harder for them. This means, of course, that the airport is offering me 15 minutes of fame before my flight.

Rather than waste that time mouthing off about all the details of my open mic visits on Monday night, I will just mention that I went to the Tennessee Bar and the Galway, and I got to play at each place. I was delighted at the Tennessee when James Iansiti asked if I would mind being joined by a flute player. Of course not, I would love it!

So I played two of my songs and two others, and it was very interesting, although I think my favorites were my own “Memories” and “Mad World.” “Jealous Guy” did not work at all.

There were other interesting bands and singers too, and at the Galway I played twice, so that was nice.

Now, my plane boards soon and I want to get on quickly to put the guitar in the overhead luggage with no fuss.

Next stop, Brazil.

A Yes Concert, a Brad Concert, a Cool Meeting and a Mini Memoir in GP Week

November 21, 2011
bradspurgeon

The above headline could be the worst I ever wrote on this blog as I try to cram in so many words and ideas that it makes no sense at all. But in that way alone, it is probably appropriate for this post which will be a round-up of my weekend. I was so busy that I had no time to update the blog for a day or two or whatever it was. So now I have to roll all the bits and pieces into one – and I will start with the freshest and work back.

Since the last Formula One race I had been working on a story about my musical adventures along with the race travel – the stuff this blog is mostly all about. And today that tiny little “memoir” – of 1700 words – of my last three years traveling around the world and playing in open mics, has been published in a neat racing magazine called GP Week. You just click on the link and go to the site and start clicking on the pages until you find my story on pages 30 – 31, and it has photos too….

The other bit of news was my concert last night at the HideOut bar on the rue du Pot de Fer in Paris, just off the rue Mouffetard. I was invited to play an acoustic concert- along with any other band members I might want to bring – as part of the first of a series of Lazy Sunday afternoon concerts that the bar will host between 19:00 and 21:00 every Sunday.

The bar is a cool, long, place with wooden tables and chairs, sports television and music. It’s cosy, and has a friendly atmosphere. I was invited to play by the organizer of the concerts, Syd Alexander, who is the lead singer of The Burnin’ Jacks. My lead gutarist, Felix Beguin, is of course none other than the lead guitarist of the Burnin’ Jacks. I also invited Justin Purtill to play bass, as I jammed with Justin at an open mic earlier in the week and found not only that we could do some really convincing stuff off the cuff with no preparation, but that we got along well and there was a great vibe. In fact, Justin is an astonishingly good bass player, and he is also a sometimes quite shockingly good singer songwriter.

For last night, Justin and I did go over most of the songs we played beforehand, to ensure some sense of professionalism…! And it worked, with Justin and Felix and me on vocals and guitar, I had fun and got some good reactions from the audience. It felt warm and nice…. I also loved the moment Felix put down the guitar and joined me on vocals in Cat’s in the Cradle.

Just before going into the HideOut I was walking up the street and wondering aloud where exactly the venue was located when a voice came from a restaurant terrace table: “Just keep going up the street there, Brad.” I turned around to see a woman whom I had noticed momentarily before but did not recognize, and she rose to her feet and introduced herself: “It’s Heather Munro,” she said.

Of course! It was my fellow blogger of HeatherBlog, who reads this blog and does a fabulous blog of her own about her life, her photography and writing. (She touches amazing chords of common experience….) And she had come to Paris for a holiday and had come to hear my concert yesterday. It was a wonderful meeting and would never have happened without the blogosphere. Today Heather wrote about our meeting and the concert as part of her round-up of her day in Paris yesterday – along with some of her photos of Paris, and of me and the band….

Finally, Saturday night I went for the first time in my life to see the progressive rock band, Yes, at the Olympia in Paris. I had listened to them since I was about 15. Seeing them for the first time – I had seen Rick Wakeman solo in the mid-70s – was a revelation. Jon Anderson, the singer, was not present. But they have another singer, a Canadian, who used to play in a Yes tribute band and who does a great job on singing the band’s stuff almost the way Anderson does. That’s hard to believe until you see it live. Still, I sometimes preferred to close my eyes to pretend it was the real Jon Anderson… but anyway….

Another Grand Cru du Mazet

November 19, 2011
bradspurgeon

Every time I go to the new open mic at the Mazet Pub on rue St. André des Arts on Thursday night in the Paris Latin Quarter, I like it more and more – and I already liked it to start with. Okay, there is one problem: This is one of the loudest, most talkative audiences I know of! But they are also an appreciative audience that seems to enjoy both talking AND listening to the music, as they applaud and are generous in their compliments, their little dancing moves when the music moves, and a general sense of well-being.

Last night I was also really pleased that I resisted the temptation to NOT take my new Gibson J-200 with me. I had been thinking that since I had been having so much trouble with the amazing, yet complicated, Fishman pick up and all its controls, that I was better off taking my Seagull, which just plugs in and sings. But I fell to the temptation to bring the Gibson just because I love playing it. I am pleased I did because, in fact, it took no work at all – except turning on the anti-feedback switch – to get it sounding great. I only really knew it sounded great, however, when I gave it to Justin Purtill to use during his songs. Then I was able to stand at the bar and listen and appreciate his great fingerpicking playing as I heard the Gibson from the room PA and not from the stage monitor amp.

Justin and I later went up for a second set during which he played bass along to my songs, although he had never heard them before. He learned as we went along. Actually, not quite true: He did know “Crazy Love,” by Van Morrison, and that was cool just to slip into doing that perfectly.

Justin then played with a Frenchman whom he did not know and whose songs he did not know either. There were some cool things to come out of that too. In all, I’ll be returning as often as possible to the Mazet….

Sometimes the Travel Catches Up With You – Me

November 16, 2011
bradspurgeon

I’ve been back from Abu Dhabi for more than two days now, although only two full nights. And I have to admit that for once, after such a trip, I’m whacked out of it. I did find the strength to go to two open mics, one on Monday night and one last night. But for once, I don’t quite have the strength to write detailed reports. So I’ll just put down a few main points, and a few videos, to tell the story.

First, it was a pleasure to be bag in Paris and go to the Galway on Monday night, and especially and above all, the Ptit Bonheur la Chance last night. That was the first time I had been there for many weeks, due to all the travel and the illness after India. So I was amazed to see that there had been a massive renewal of people at the Ptit Bonheur la Chance in just a few weeks. It was as crowded and full of musicians as it ever has been – Yaco is keeping the ball rolling – but the majority were new people I had not seen before. There were some wonderful regular faces, though, including a visit by the extraordinary group, Natas Loves You, and I had to record their King Crimson again.

But the most fun thing for me was doing something I had never done before quite like this, which was to accompany my friend Marianne Bp who did her piece “Bombe Lacrymoj’aime“. She’s Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg all in one, since she sings/recites and writes…. I had a real, real fun time doing that one, and hope to do more with her.

I was dissatisfied with my Gibson at the Galway, and felt pretty much bummed out of the whole performance, but I suspect it had to do with the difficulty recovering from the night flight from Abu Dhabi. Just one more trip till the end of the year, Sao Paulo next week. Looking forward to it, and to the post-trip period of life in Paris for a couple of months, grounded in one sport.

End of item for today…. just veg on the vids.

Liberated by Success in Abu Dhabi – Jamming with the Oud Masters

November 14, 2011
bradspurgeon

House of Oud - Bait Al Oud

Who will ever be able to trust my rambling accounts of playing music around the world ever again? Yesterday, despondent, having failed after three days of effort to find the elusive “House of Oud,” or “Bait Al Oud,” I wrote a post talking about how great it was to fail! But at the end of my working day at the racetrack I found myself with two and a half hours available before I had to go to the airport for the flight back to Paris. So I decided to make one more attempt to find the mecca of oud.

That would require a half-hour cab ride downtown from the track, followed by eventually another half-hour cab ride from there to the airport. That would leave one and a half hours to find the oud joint and hope that it was open and hope that I could jam, film, talk and sing with whomsoever might be there. What spurred me on to having a little hope at the end of the day was that by changing my search method online to “Bait Al Oud” I discovered a Facebook page for the House of Oud AND a web site talking about the Oud House and on these I actually finally found a photograph of the building – so it was now an identifiable object. (What a saga!)

The Time Out story about the place had said people could just walk in off the street and see the place and ask for a jam. So I took a cab to the same place behind the One-to-One hotel where I had been before, and I asked the cab driver to drive around ALL of the surrounding back-streets. We were almost ready to quit and go directly to the airport when suddenly a seeming mirage appeared before me: The very same majestic image of the House of Oud that I saw online! All was pretty dark, but the front door was slightly ajar. So I asked the cab driver to wait while I explored. Picture a horror film where the victim enters an empty, massive, mansion in the middle of nowhere – “Hello, is there anyone here? Helllooooo? Anyone home????”

I just kept following the lights from within to a back room, and there I met up with a man in Arab clothing and with an oud – a beautiful handmade oud – by his side. On the table next to him was an interesting auto-harp type of thing too, and there was another man as well. The Arab with the oud spoke the best English, and so I explained that I was a musician on a visit to Abu Dhabi and I was about to leave the country but I had been searching for three days for this place, that I had heard there were jam sessions. Could we jam?

Another man came and joined us, and it turned out that they were all about to leave for the day, that the place had closed for the day. But they were curious about me, about my guitar – which was still in the cab – and they invited me to join then, get my guitar, and we would jam. Eureka! It was no longer just a mirage.

musicians at house of oud

I got my instrument and my luggage and asked the cab driver to return an hour and 15 minutes later to take me to the airport. I went back into the House of Oud and proceeded to have the time of my life, jamming with the oud player and the harp player. They also let me play the oud myself, they allowed me to film us and interview them for my film. And they took me on a tour of the workshop where the ouds are made, in a back room of the same building. The third man who had shown up was the luthier who made the ouds, the man in the Arab dress was a student, and the harp player was an oud music teacher. He and the luthier were both from Egypt, which is the greatest land of the oud. I immediately fell in love with the instrument and its beautiful feel and sound, and I regretted upon leaving that I had not tried to see if I could buy one.

The luthier, whose name is Amr Fawzy, builds around 40 of them per year, if I understood correctly. He showed me how they are built, and with what wood. He later inspected my guitar, and liked it. The oud, an ancestor of the guitar, has existed since 2350 BC! It is central to Arabic music, and this Bait Al Oud is a project that was started by a man named Naseer Shamma, who also started one of these institutions in Cairo, and I believe elsewhere as well, as he tries to develop and maintain the oud. In fact, he brought about some changes with the making of the oud to bring it up to more modern standards, without detracting from the traditional instrument. One of these, Amr – who was trained in the Cairo House of Oud and is a master luthier – pointed out to me, was that the tuning head is made entirely from one single piece of wood, which is carved out in the middle.

The House of Oud, which was founded only two years ago, is partly sponsored by the Abu Dhabi Authority for Culture and Heritage, which provides wood, strings, budget, I suppose. And the villa is absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. There are rehearsal spaces, concert spaces, a library, all sorts of rooms. The institution chooses students through a system of try-outs, and they follow a course with the teacher I met – who is also Egyptian – and in turn can go on to teach. Aside from the regular free jams, all the students usually gather on Thursdays to play amongst themselves.

I said yesterday that I was happy with failure as I travel the world and seem only to meet with success on this musical adventure seeking out the music of the world and places to play and jam, and I said that failing to find a place proved just how difficult a task it has been, and how different each place can be. But the feeling I had playing with these musicians, discovering the oud and their institution, and succeeding at the last minute after so many efforts, was far, far, far greater than that feeling of accepting failure! It was also, above all, a window into a real bit of Abu Dhabi and Arab culture – and hospitality – that I had before then had no inkling of. Before the House of Oud, my only experience of the country was the backstreets of the smokey cafes, and above all, the western bars in the western hotels. Soooo glad I made the last effort, so glad the House of Oud was so accomodating.

I made several videos, but the best one is too long, too big, to put up here – and I will put it in my documentary. It contains much more oud playing and me playing the oud and all three of us jamming with me on my guitar, and the other two on the harp and oud. But for the moment I have only these two shorter ones to put up, which have more of the harp than the oud! But the workshop one is fabulous, and I like the moment where the luthier tells me the oud is made of Indian rosewood, and that he had noticed part of my Seagull guitar was made of rosewood too….

Liberated by Failure in Abu Dhabi

November 13, 2011
bradspurgeon

Well, that makes four nights in a row where I have failed to find a place to play in Abu Dhabi. I decided to leave my guitar behind and go into “Heroes” bar in the Crowne Plaza hotel, but there is no live music there on Saturday night. I then went to the Intercontinental that someone else suggested, and there was just a very classy piano cocktail lounge thing with a jazz singer, and way too much class. Oh, and that story about the House of Oud I promised to talk about?

The House of Oud, according to Time Out, does have jam sessions, and clearly this would be a bona fide local scene. But four days is clearly not enough time in Abu Dhabi to cross the cultural divide and move from the world of expat bars in fancy hotels to a jam in a non-descript town house behind the One-to-One hotel. I called the number provided by Time Out to order up a jam session, and the person who responded only spoke Arabic. I therefore asked my hotel manager to call. It turned out no one in the hotel spoke Arabic, just Indian and English. So I then caught a cab for the second time in two days – this was yesterday, as I recounted that I already searched for this place on foot the night before – and the cab driver DID speak Arabic.

So the cab driver spoke at length to the man at the House of Oud and then hung up and told me he knew where to go. So he went and stopped just behind the One-to-One hotel and told me I was there. But I said, “Where?” I told him I had already been to this spot and saw no House of Oud. He said, “Here.” But I said, “You don’t really know where it is, do you?” He said he did, but that it was on a larger street on the other side of a field. So I asked him to take me and he drove me to the precise spot where he said was the House of Oud. The only problem was that he was dropping me off at the main gate to a military camp. I told him he really did not know where it was after all, and please take me to the race track. So he did.

At the track, I asked for the help of an Arabic speaking employee. Unfortunately, by the time the phone call finally took place, it was precisely 9 PM, which is the time that the House of Oud apparently ceases its oud lessons and starts the jam – if there is one.

So I failed.

But failure, I decided, in this case is what proves the rule. Failure, it seems to me, is exactly what I needed here in Abu Dhabi in order to give more value to all the other places where I have found open mics, open jam sessions and live music joints where anyone can play. If all the world was exactly the same, what value would there be to such an adventure. It would not be an adventure, it would be a formality. Abu Dhabi is the one place on earth where I have failed to find the kind of musical culture I have sought around the world. By the same token, this place is unique and wonderful in many, many ways, and partly for the same reasons there is not much free musical culture: Because Abu Dhabi is such a finely – if strictly – run society that it is clean, crime seems to be at a minimum, the cab drivers use their meters and do not rip you off, there is abundant housing, drinkable water and eatable food, and all the things we need to be comfortable and well off. Just not so good on the free-for-all live music scene.

But that, as I say, is precisely the story I came to find – an original tale of a place. This never-ending open mic adventure is not only about me having to mark my territory, it is about discovering the reality of the musical culture in the places I go. I found that here, and in that sense, did not fail. If the world was the same everywhere, it would be a bore…. I catch the night flight to Paris and doubt I’ll find a place to play – unless Paul McCartney wants me to join him later on in his concert tonight….

Point-Form Approach to Abu Dhabi Night #3

November 12, 2011
bradspurgeon

Things are looking grim on the battlefield searching for an open mic or jam. So grim that I can’t bear to go into details about it and don’t want to bore the dear reader. So here is a point-form, bullet-method, approach to last night:

Went looking for the House of Oud which is reputedly behind the One-To-One Hotel and which has jam sessions on the oud. Result: Spent an hour wandering the streets finding nothing.
Went to the F1 Fanzone on the Corniche where there is a small stage that apparently became a kind of open mic for locals on Wednesday and where further up the coast as part of the Yasalam festival of music and fun, there was a bigger stage that shows off local talent as well as international stars. Result: The small stage was closed, the action had moved to the big stage, but I was not allowed into the area of the big stage because I had a camera and no cameras are allowed.
Went to a small and cool pub at the Sheraton Hotel. Result: No music.
Wandered the back streets near the Sheraton for an hour in amongst the small gentlemens’ cafes and chicha joints in search of any sign of local or other music – an off-the-beaten-path serendipity approach. Result: Did not even see a single oud.
Went to the reputedly wild and crazy “Heroes” bar at the Crowne Plaza where there is a live band and a place where one person told me in the past that if anywhere, that would be the place to play. Result: The guard at the door stopped me and told me I could not enter the bar with my guitar. “Wait, isn’t this a live music joint?” I asked. “Yes, but only the artists can have their instruments.” He told me to check it outside in a closet. I said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” It did not, like on the first night, sound like my kind of place.
Returned to my hotel/apartment. Result: Played my heart out on my guitar and singing in my empty living room before packing it in and going to sleep.

One night left in the so-far barren adventure. I have a little tale about trying to find the House of Oud again this morning, but I will save that for tomorrow.

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Monthly Archives: November 2011