
(Review by Russell/photos by Kath Jobes - left - and Mike Tilley - Right.)

Layered, hard-blowing composed to free jazz pieces, Branton,
Ballantyne and Metcalfe embodied the spirit of the 1960s American avant garde
(Ayler, Coleman, Taylor ).
Branton rocked and rolled (physically), tenor raised to the sky, then swooping
to the floor, raging. Rory Ballantyne played a black Gretsch for most of the
evening; rhythmic, hammered, inventive, different; Frisell to Americana to the blues. Michael Metcalfe (an
erstwhile Tyne Valley resident) is the equal of any of
the new crop of brilliant British drummers. A busy hi-hat, sticks and mallets,
Metcalfe breezed through complex rhythmic patterns. Eel Song, an original number impressed, and the fist set closed on
Ornette’s Broadway Blues. Very, very
impressive.
Second set: The confines of the
Jazz Café imposed an eye-contact intimacy between the musicians and the
within-touching-distance audience. Branton’s guttural exhortations maintained
the momentum on Antibiotic. Metcalfe,
endlessly inventive, Ballantyne knew it was going well, a contented smile
amidst the intensity of it all. Monster
Munch hinted at the demonic fury of other, established trios on the scene –
no names, the name Dead Hedge is the name to check-out. The true tale of five
in a Nissan Sunny over the Alps – Driving with John – closed the set. The Spirit of Albert Ayler was with the Dead
Hedge Trio – Rejoice! From time to
time a gig earns a Bebop Spoken Here nomination
for Gig of the Year. It will take something special to better this Jazz Café
performance by the Dead Hedge Trio.
Russell.
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