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Burn the house down

Multi-kulti Jazz collective F-ire aims to breathe new life into the UK jazz scene. The London group has sprung up from underground roots to assert itself as a force to be reckoned with. REPORT: TOM BARLOW

Quiet as it's kept, Britain has a new collective that boasts some of the most innovative young musicians you've never heard of. Like other do-it-yourself cultural alliances - the Jazz Composers Collective and M-Base in New York, or the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians in Chicago -'F-ire' (Fellowship for Integrated Rhythmic Expression) symbolises the maxim 'safety in numbers'.

F-ire, created in 1999, functions as a musical launch pad, espousing virtuous ideals such as giving back to the community through education and carnival. And they've also hit on a way round the lack of venues and exposure that characterises the 'jazz business' in the UK. In reality F-ire first sparked up five years ago, with the foundation of the band Timeline. Beginning as a collective of jazz musicians gathering to study African music, the group developed into a working quintet. Timeline's saxophonist Barak Schmool is the main mover behind the F-ire organization -a former student of Steve Coleman and a music educator at City University and The Royal Academy of Music.

Under the F-ire umbrella are well over 60 musicians, dancers and percussionists. Timeline is perhaps the most prominent. But then there's guitarist Dave Okumu's Jade Fox and Thieves Without Loot; Robert Mitchell's Panacea; brilliant pianist Nick Ramm; The Ingrid Laubrock quartet; Rhythms Of The City (an Afro- rhythmic street band featuring tuba player Oren Marshall and cellist Ben Davis); Meta Meta (a carnival band playing secular arrangements of Afro-Cuban musical songs) among others.

Also involved are drummers Tom Skinner and Leo Taylor, bassists Tom Herbert and Larry Bartley, trumpeters Byron Wallen and Tom Arthurs, saxophonists Jason Yarde and Finn Peters, guitarist Jonathan Braetoff, and Ghanaian percussionist Nana Tsiboe - arguably some of the scene's most happening improvisers. Yet, how many of these names have you heard on Jazz musicians have long adopted strategies of self-reliance to survive. The history of the jazz collective goes back to before World War 1, when Harlem's Clef Club -a musician run booking agency, which included James P. Johnson -provided a performance structure for local players. In the 60s and 70s, the notion of the collective became more vital. As New York 1imes writer Ben Ratliff explains. 'Jazz was becoming acknowledged as a serious art form, and serious art forms deserve serious works. But such works need time, money and encouragement, none of which are plentiful in nightclubs.'

'In some ways F-ire is just a labeling device,' explains Schmool, 33, whose compelling alto playing is also heard with Robert Mitchell's Panacea and 'Django Bates' Delightful Precipice. 'It's kind of like the AACM in Chicago, stating their artistic ideas. My artistic ideal embraces the idea of community: which is central in Africa, where artists are given support in their villages because they are educators. The best master musicians know how to teach.

'To be in competition with each other doesn't work -the scene dies,' he continues. 'The funny thing was that so many of the bands I respect in the UK seemed to involve the same names. People like Dave Okumu, Nick Ramm, Tom Skinner and Tom Herbert, the same percussionists, the same singers. I thought "let's get them together". Support structures have to be on-going -not just because you're "flavour of the month" with the Arts Council.'

Crucial to the sound Of these bands is the presence of composers, particularly Nick Ramm, Schmool and Okumu. Whilst indebted to US and African music, the F-ire groups have their own sound -often as soulful as it is experimental. 'It's very British,' says guitarist Dave Okumu of Jade Fox, the band he co-leads with Skinner, Herbert, Finn Peters and others; a band which comes across like a meeting between 70s Miles, Steve Coleman, D'Angelo, Radiohead and (West London dance producer) I.G. Culture.

The conceptual influence of Steve Coleman is central to F-ire. In practical terms, this has raised the need for community and a solid foundation for solidarity. Currently, F-ire has a roof over its head. It is resident at London's City University, where its musicians and dancers can gather to play and teach. Weekly classes include Afro-Cuban folkloric dance with Guillermo 'El Iyawo' Davis, Ghanaian drumming and song, and sessions with Rhythms of the City, the collective's Carnival band. Money raised from the group's educational workshops goes straight back into administrative funding.

It might seem strange that this rich crop of artists in the UK should be gathering underground: at times the renovated maze of rooms, beneath the streets in Islington, feels like a bunker. But the City location enables London jazz musicians to overcome one of their most painful tribulations. 'In London, travelling and organising rehearsals is a nightmare. It's difficult, expensive and time-consuming,' explains Schmool, gathered at City University one cold night with guitarist Dave Okumu (also of Timeline), and a bunch of percussion students. 'So, what we have here is a premises where all the bands can rehearse for free with musical gear already set up. We're thinking about practical solutions to artistic problems.'

Indeed on www.f-ire.com, the organisation's manifesto explicitly (and wordily) states: 'It is all too frequent that grand designs of integrating communities fall by the wayside in deference to financial pressures. Within F-ire it is the policy that the expression comes first and is created for its social importance, not for income. In this way, projects that would have waited years for funding have been staged successfully, without the help, marketing or attention accorded to productions that have "lotterised" the realisation of their work.'

Saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock believes that the shared learning processes of the F-ire's workshops are already feeding back into the creativity of British based musicians. 'We all feel part of it, trying to get information together. I used to go to the samba school and sit in on Barak's classes. I guess all the musicians involved have an interest in different rhythmic concepts, but are also trying to break away from the mainstream.'

These days the merits of jazz education are widely debated. Is it really in crisis? Steve Coleman expressed the central problem in a recent conversation transcribed by pianist Vijay Iyer. 'Western educational institutions... stress pedagogy over creativity, spirit and culture, [and] this is one of the reasons why so many musicians do not really have a personal (or individual) sound to their music.' Schmool would undoubtedly agree, and there is much evidence that the common thread amongst F-ire musicians is an emphasis on creative thinking over trying to sound like the 'old cats'.

Pianist Robert Mitchell, a former sideman with Coleman, is currently working with Gerard Presencer and Norma Winstone to re-interpret the music of Wayne Shorter. 'Good music education is a problem in this country,' he says. 'But with people like Gerard at the Royal Academy, and Jason Yarde, who's been teaching at Middlesex University, it seems the crucial establishments might open up. To me that means the next ten years will be a really interesting time. The F- ire workshops can be huge in this respect as well. Strangely enough, at the moment the universities seem to be more open to us than TV or radio stations.'

At a recent series of 30 concerts at Camden's WKD Cafe (with performances by Timeline, Dave Okumu, Oren Marshall, Dylan Bates, Jonathan Braetoff, Seb Rochford and Finn Peters' Dr Seus) the fruits of the F-ire's open-mindedness were clear. Such raw performances should provide ammunition against claims that this country's jazz innovators are pointlessly esoteric or 'unlistenable', as Sholto Byrnes implied in The New Statesman a few months back.

Without the right musicians gaining access to the right ears, perhaps it's forgivable -albeit mistaken -to think that creative music has reached a low point. So what went wrong? 'There are lots of reasons,' argues Schmool. 'One reason could be that jazz sales in England are amongst the lowest in Europe. Financially, jazz is at the bottom of the heap here: £60 is seen as a good fee for a jazz gig and that doesn't even cover rehearsing. That kind of money would be a joke in other music.'

'Then, we've got a problem in this country with the two-in-a-bar rule,' he continues. 'A massive problem. It reduces the artistic outlet by making it illegal to play music anywhere without a licence. I mean forget the history behind it -this is like a moral offence.' 'I think the problems we face include the nature of artists needing to make money out of music. This has the effect of making jazz promoters "safe" and not challenging artists to stretch out beyond the usual white, middle-aged people with beards. We want them to come to the gigs too, but some venues are only ever touting that kind of audience... music is sup- posed to bring people together.'

Ingrid Laubrock argues musicians frequently struggle against a mindset that is too traditional compared to Europe and America. 'I love straight ahead jazz,' she says. 'But there's a very weird fascism about it here. There's so much talent in this country, but at the same time so few places to play.'

One way in which F-ire controls this is through its carnival bands. Its 20-strong Rhythms of the City performs at about almost two dozen festivals a year, from Notting Hill to Rhythmsticks. Yet, the argument remains that young people have scarce access to improvised music. Pop, rock, hip-hop and R&B, yes, but not jazz. 'The model is a band like Medeski, Martin and Wood,' says Dave Okumu. 'Their gig at the Astoria in October was full of kids getting into this freaky jazz shit. So it is possible: improvised music isn't just weird and exclusive. At the Jade Fox gigs -at the WKD, for example -the audience was extremely mixed. It was an amazing buzz, and it contradicted the idea that the music we make is select.

'Interestingly, a lot of us lot don't really think of ourselves as jazz musicians,' continues Okumu, who, like many members of F-ire, is a former Tomorrow's Warrior. His co-led band, Jade Fox, sounds like one of the most exciting fusions of improvisation with contemporary influences this country has heard. 'I think we could do a gig at the QEH and tear it up, or at AI's cafe, or at a nightclub. We're not ruthlessly into one 'thing". Even when we played straight ahead with Tomorrow's Warriors, we'd show up at the Jazz Cafe having checked out hip-hop groups like Slum Village or house acts. I find that really exciting, seeing the connections between contemporary and retrospective.'

Dave Okumu, 26, is the youngest musician yet to be chosen by UK jazz promoters Serious for their career development programme. A former student of John Parricelli, he recently co-Jed a group Norwegian bassist Anders Jormin for the Europe Jazz Odyssey at the London Jazz Festival. His emergence typifies the influences and ideas that are now moulding young improvisers in the UK. Those who have heard Okumu's band, Thieves Without Loot can't help but be impressed by his compositional skills, the group inter- play and the level of musicianship: the band's two alto players, Finn Peters and Jason Yarde, and usual suspects like Nick Ramm, bassist Larry Bartley and Tom Skinner make for a powerful band. Okumu, however, is currently putting all his energies into on his collective project, Jade Fox, which most recently has been re-interpreting the 70s music of Miles Davis. The group is planning a three-night showcase for 2003: one evening dedicated to 70s era Miles, then a night dedicated to song based music and spoken word with singers like Eska Mtungwazi and Louise Mills, formerly of Quite Sane. 'The final night would be a celebration of improvisation and an opportunity to perform music we've already written with other musicians on the scene.' The evenings will be recorded for an EP.

Meanwhile, expect to hear more of the F-ire collective in 2003. Although they've mostly performed off the jazz scene's radar, from early 2003 you can expect nights at London's Vortex, where many of the collective's bands will showcase. Timeline will also be performing at Cheltenham Jazz in the Spring. The band's recent debut record, Know Hope, however, will only be available on the web.

'I'm kind of nervous giving music away,' says Schmool, 'because a lot of my friends who are far greater musicians than I are getting shafted left right and centre by distribution and record companies. All our music will be available if you look for it.'

At first listen, Timeline might sound 'M-Basey' or even coming out of Ornette Coleman's Primetime. Yet, the band is more than a tribute -the traditional roles of each instrument are subverted, and arrangements are painstakingly crafted. Perhaps the best way to classify Timeline is to say that it has a sound of its own: the input of multi-cultural rhythms dominates, and while the creative concepts are ambitious, the music is actually accessible.

'I make no bones about the fact that Steve Coleman's music is a massive influence,' says Okumu. 'But we could never sound like Steve Coleman if we tried. And he could never sound like us, cos he hasn't rehearsed in Barak's hang in Golders Green.'

Listen to Timeline, and you will hear a fresh attitude to improvisation, that seems to characterize the music of many of the F-ire artists. As well as Schmool, Okumu, Nick Ramm and percussionist Volker Strater - the group is fired up by the kick-ass drumming of Leo Taylor (son of John Taylor and Norma Winstone).

According to Okumu: 'The pitfall of the jazz scene is the emphasis on the soloistic aspect: you get people who are so absorbed in being great soloists that all the other stuff gets neglected.' Schmool takes the argument a step further. that the way people play out 'roles' in jazz music can get pretty boring. 'Even the way we set up on stage is always in a semi-circle, is so people can see each other. It's enforced in the collective learning. It's like we're jazz musicians, but want the organization of West African music.'

Without wanting to fall prey to premature hype, F- ire could be providing exactly what the British jazz scene needs. While Schmool continues his hard work, he remains in contact with like-minded collectives in Europe, such as Aka Moon in Belgium (whom F-ire bring to the Vortex in January); and the 'Hask' a Parisian collective, supported by the French Ministry of Culture and featuring Steve Arguelles and Benoit Delbecq. Meanwhile, Okumu likens this fellowship to Philadelphia's recently revived soul music scene -a network of artists recording, jamming and housed together in the City of Brotherly Love. 'I think we have potential to have something in London that functions on the same level.