Friday 28 October 2016

Munk Montague - Jazz Nursery

Alex Munk

Munk Montague/Montague Munk
Alex Munk - guitar
Chris Montague - guitar
Calum Gourlay - bass
Tim Giles - drums

Date - 27th October 2016
Venue - Jazz Nursery, Waterloo, London, UK

Calum Gourlay
One of London’s most eccentric music venues, Jazz Nursery opens its doors on the final Thursday of each month and is currently resident at i’klectik arts lab, Waterloo.  The night showcases cutting edge talent, creating a stage for the best up and coming bands in London. Constantly reinterpreting jazz and improvised music, our artists play new material, try things out and bring their sound to a wider audience.
Entrance is £10, there’s a good value bar all night and two great bands over the course of the evening.

Chris Montague
Chris Montague is one of the most innovative guitarists and musicians to emerge from the UK in recent years, he is widely recognised for his skills as a composer and performer. As a founder member of Troyka he has garnered a reputation for his distinctive approach to the guitar and has gained much acclaim for his contributions to many contemporary recordings.

Having established himself as one of the capital’s most in demand guitarists, Alex Munk formed the group Flying Machines in 2014. Centred around Alex’s unique compositions, the band have established a sound that is entirely their own, fusing emotive melodies with visceral, rock out guitar improv and luscious backdrops. The musical influences are numerous, from the frenzied rhythms of Tigran Hamasyan to pearly pools of sound reminiscent of Bill Frisell.

Commodore 64 worm chasing itself, the pixels vibrate and jump. Colours rub against one another, static charged. Burgundy and red are the guitars of Munk and Montague, clashing sap-green and lime. Giles has a straight line speed that jags across the Jazz Nursery, he is a flickering etch-a-sketch.

Tim Giles
Bill Frisell's Strange Meeting lies a damp white towel across my face, I am Ronnie O'Sullivan, melancholy and forlorn. They adore me but I hate them, I need them but they don't care about me. They will never know what it is to be me, and I'll never know what it is to be them. Huxley says I will never know what it is to be Sir John Falstaff or Joe Louis.

The mystery train stops in this town of sun blanched store fronts, if ever a tune needed a solitary figure to populate it then it is this one. Just the one to talk of loneliness, otherwise it would a conversation about emptiness, which is a far easier thing.


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