I spent six hours Saturday night at the Winter Jazzfest, and while some moments shone more brightly than others, it was all-in-all one of the most fun nights out I've had in a long time. For one thing, the crowds were less hellacious than they were Friday night, so you could actually bump from club to club without fear of getting locked out. It was also a reminder of the X-factor festivals bring to live music, be it rock, classical, experimental, or whatever floats your boat. By filling five clubs in a two-block radius with music from all ends of the jazz spectrum, it became second nature to compare notes with friends and strangers on what you'd just heard, or suggest a band to someone they might not otherwise go see. (The $25 all-in pricing certainly didn't hurt, either.)

I spent most of the night at LPR, which housed most of the big names and offered the most floorspace of any of the participating clubs. (Kenny's Castaways across the street made for a good in-between-set refuge, with cheaper drinks and it's own solid lineup.) Saxophonist Tia Fuller (above) kicked things off with an athletic, straight-ahead set that included her sister Shamie on piano and brother-in-law Rudy on drums. Echoing the title of her latest release, she urged us to take "Decisive Steps" in 2011, leaving behind all the ups and downs of the past year.

After a quick stop over to Kenny's to see Andrew D'Angelo's AGOGIC, it was back to LPR for the chameleon-like Don Byron, who seems to be up to something new every time I see him. This time out, he played clarinet and sax, but also sang backup to the astonishing DK Dyson, whose vocals were a mix of gospel and scat, throwing in a bit of Queen of the Night for good measure. As if that weren't enough, Geri Allen joined on piano, playing with such technical wizardry that Byron himself seemed completely bowled over.

The idea of pairing a visual artist improvising to live music isn't new, but more often than not the resulting painting/drawing ends up looking like a scribble. Fortunately, Nels Cline had Norton Wisdom at his disposal, doing what basically amounted to sophisticated finger paining on a backlit screen while Nels shredded his guitar in apocalyptic horror. Trees morphed into animals, gods became demons, the Earth melted into a horrifying skull with piercing red eyes. Widsom's hand was so sure, and Nels' playing so complex and pitch-perfect, it was impossible to believe that either was improvising. The fact that both were was completely dumbfounding.

After Nels, we were treated to a surprise "interlude" by the Asphalt Orchestra: a 12-piece big band who played a couple of quick numbers guerrilla-style. I'm not sure if these erstwhile Bang on a Can peeps technically qualified as jazz - they were more Slavic Soul Party than Secret Society - but it was way fun to listen to. 

After what felt like an especially long delay while they got their levels checked out, Steve Coleman and his band Five Elements took the stage. Maybe I was getting tired and cranky at that point, but the muddled ensemble playing and indecipherable female vocals (contributed by Jen Shyu) didn't really do it for me. 

So, it was a joy to come back to LPR - after a quick hop over to Kenny's to hear Uri Caine with the Donny McCaslin Trio - to hear RedCred (a.k.a. Chris Speed (S), Ben Perowsky (D) and John Medeski (Hammond B3, baby) blow the roof off with a lightening set that spilled over with joyous energy. For Chris, at least, this was his second gig of the night, having just played an Endangered Blood show with Oscar and Jim over at The Stone. And, Ben had to stick around to close out the night with his Moodswing Orchestra, going on somewhere south of 3am. 

But, for all the great music I heard, the best part of my night came while I was chowing down on a chicken sandwich at the bar at Kenny's, listening to the James Carney Group. That's when I got to talking to Don: an expat from Boston who's been catching live jazz in NYC for the past fifty years. Don's seen it all: Coltrane, Monk, Mingus screaming at the audience, Billie barely hanging on. I asked him what he thought about the festival, and the state of jazz in general.

"There's so much amazing music out there now," Don told me. "So many young, talented players. But, everyone playing now is chasing after those early guys, trying to hit that same high Trane or Monk used to hit. And, it just isn't there, not that I've heard. If it's gonna happen, it'll have to come from somewhere deep inside."

After we paid our tabs, I dragged Don over to Nels' show at LPR - he'd never heard of Nels before - but we lost each other somewhere between the bar and the bathroom. So, Don: if you did manage to stick around, I'd love to hear what you thought. And, hope to see you out again sometime.

More pics below and on Flickr.

I was late arriving to LPR last night for the first night of the 2011 Winter Jazzfest, but made it in time to catch legendary drummer Chico Hamilton and Euphoria. Chico, who turns 90 this year, has been a band leader since 1955, having worked with everyone from Duke Ellington, to Count Basie, to Lena Horne, with whom he played for six years. Chico has let himself go a bit since the last time I saw him in 2007 - his hair is long and gray, and he walks with a cane - but he is as sharp as ever. He cracked jokes, showed off his delicate brush technique, and occasionally chided his younger players for coming in early or late. What is it about these jazz drummers - Chico, Roy Haynes, Paul Motian - that keeps them young well into their 80's?

After, most of us wandered en masse across the street to Kenny's Castaways, filling the former 19th century saloon well beyond capacity. I pushed my way through the crowd and managed to watch free jazz saxophonist Charles Gayle and his trio from the wrap-around gallery above the stage. Gayle, 71, lived on the streets of NYC for over 20 years, with his career only taking off in his mid-50's. He played tenor like a man possessed, driven by the same spiritual fervor as Coltrane and Cecil Taylor.

By the time I got to Zinc Bar up on 3rd St., there was a line of wristband holders around the block - and a gaggle of pushy old jazz heads trying to weasel their way in - so I hightailed it back to Brooklyn. But, I'll be back later tonight, as the Winter Jazzfest expands to five venues. The music kicks off at 6pm and goes 'til the wee hours. Details and tickets on the festival website. 

More pics from last night on Flickr.

Oh Lordy.

These days, The Times seems keen on lobbing up fungos to hit out of the park of musical debate. First, there was the ill-advised critics roundtable/gripe session surrounding this past fall's White Light Festival. Now, Tony Tommasini has taken it upon himself to rank the Top 10 Composers of all time. Why? Because he thought it would be "fun."

Predictably, Tony's purview is limited to the world of western classical music: his first (obvious) choice is Bach. Even so, he seems overwhelmed by the task at hand, fumbling about for just what criteria he should use.  Should influence matter, or just the works themselves? Do you include Chopin, even though he only wrote for the piano? (Nope.) What about living composers? (Out.) 

To his credit, Tony has asked readers to submit their own Top 10, along with suggestions and criticisms of his own selections. As of Friday night, nearly 400 readers have seen fit to share their own variously informed musings.  

Well, as you might imagine, I find Tony's exercise a bit limiting. So, in an even more ridiculous venture, I've decided to put together my own list, including not only classical composers, but musicians from all the other genres found in these pages: jazz, rock, pop, soul, etc. Stupid, I know. 

In order to incorporate all of this music, I'm doubling the size of my list to 20. As for criteria, I'm evaluating based on the following key qualities, in no particular order:

• Emotion
• Invention
• Clarity
• Legacy
• Visceral power

No doubt, this criteria is completely arbitrary and eliminates entire genres of music that I love: bluegrass, indie rock, new/experimental music. It also removes from consideration anyone who doesn't write/improvise their own music, so goodbye Ella, Frank, and all the great classical soloists. It is also, to be sure, a highly personal list, informed solely by my own unique and limited experience.

As it happens, more than half of my selections still land within the realm of "classical" music, which I honestly believe is less a result of my personal bias than a legitimate side-by-side comparison according to the above criteria. That debate could fill it's own lengthy post.

Anyway, here goes:

Beethoven - The Alpha and the Omega. Peerless in the realms of symphony, sonata, concerto and string quartet. And the Missa Solemnis is simply the greatest work of sacred music ever written.

Brahms - Second only to Beethoven in both symphonic and chamber music. Not to mention the German Requiem.

Bach - Quiet majesty; drafted the template for classical music as we know it. Wrote more music than most people can carry.

Wagner - Love him or hate him, Wagner invented modernism. Belongs here for The Ring alone.

Bruckner - Nine gargantuan symphonies that soar like cathedrals.

Mahler - Last of the Romantics. Nine (or ten) immortal symphonies that are only now getting their due.

Bartok - The greatest string quartets since Beethoven. The Concerto for Orchestra is the darling of the concert hall. And, he's one of the great champions of folk music. 

Stravinsky - Rite, Firebird, Petruscka, Rake's Progress: there's no getting around him.

Messiaen - The most ecstatic composer of all time. Genius of orchestra, opera - and, of course, his own instrument: the organ.

Puccini - Boheme. Butterfly. Tosca. Say what you will: the music is astonishing, by any measure. 

John Adams - Greatest classical composer of our time. Equally at home in the operatic and symphonic worlds.

Stockhausen - Eccentric and undigestable, prolific and thrilling. Responsible for what we now know as electronic music. 

Charlie Parker - Inventor of be-bop; essentially gave birth to jazz as we know it.

Miles Davis - From Kind of Blue to Bitches Brew, Miles could do it all.

John Coltrane - Giant Steps, Love Supreme - 'Trane was The Messenger.

James Brown - The Godfather of Soul. Greatest showman of the 20th Century.

Jimi Hendrix - Greatest rock guitarist of all time, even if his career was cut stupidly short.

Prince - The most dynamic rock composer and performer of our time.

Michael Jackson - The King of Pop, 'nuff said

Radiohead - Took a huge risk incorporating jazz and electronica into their music, and became the greatest band of our time. 

Of course, there are many, many more musicians I could have included. Some (Britten, Janáček, Ligeti, Reich) were regrettable casualties of space. Others (Mozart, Schubert, Verdi) were more prolific than inspiring. Still others (Schoenberg, Cage, Elliott Carter) earn respect more for their intellectual contributions than the actual music that they wrote. And those are just the classical peeps. 

Anyway, there you have it. Comments, corrections and criticisms are all encouraged. Especially from you, Tony.