Last night, your fearless classical and jazz music podcast guys headed to North London and to the Camden Roundhouse to see Paloma Faith rocking out at the iTunes festival.  We’re not so good at gigs in Camden, having been thoroughly confused by Charlie Hazlewood’s Beggar’s Opera earlier this year, and realising five minutes after entering a Big Pink gig at the Electric Ballroom that we were out of our depth, were not appropriately dressed, and that the Big Pink weren’t actually coming on stage until well past our respective bedtimes. Incidentally, it was also at that same moment that Alasdair realised he was old, and Olly realised he was older.

However, not ones to pass up on a free gig, or for that matter a 50% discount on a Nando’s bill (thank you clerical error) we returned to that part of the city we so desperately want approval from, and were treated to a sing-a-long of Faith’s best album tracks along with some covers, including a way over the top cover of Etta James’ At Last as an attempted throw back to her jazz and burlesque days. Neither of us, I think it’s fair to say, were in the moment. Apart from the fact that the speakers couldn’t seem to handle the volume, and caused a distortion that sounded like tiny vuvuzelas, Alasdair had forgotten his little soap box that he takes to most “standing up gigs” so that he can see over the adults and onto the stage, and Olly had just realised via wikipedia that the singer we were (well Olly was) now watching used to do adverts for Agent Provocateur, and so was in an entirely different place and an entirely different moment.

This not ideal situation gave us time to consider a question posed by our friends at Wildkat PR about the place for classical music, and the wider question that seems to be buzzing around this year about what needs to happen to classical music concerts to make them more appealing. We’ve stuck our GetJazzical thinking hats on as tight as they go, and can now unveil our list of solutions and suggestions to making a classical concert more successful and more appealing to the  great British public:

1. Props

Paloma had two massive helium inflated balls that she strapped to herself and then walked around the stage with. It was strange. It was Gaga-lite  and vaguely- pre watershed safe -sexual. There was also an angled mirror that didn’t really play a part in the performance but got everyone very excited before Nash, sorry Faith, arrived on stage.  I want to see this in a classical concert.

Paloma walks around with balls strapped to her...I mean, come on...

I want the conductor to be wheeled in on a throne, and the lead violinist wearing a pair of wings, suggesting he might be lifted above the rest of the orchestra, or will do a stage dive at some point.  After a while at a classical music concert you run out of things to look at. You’ve picked out the pretty girl and looked at her for so long you’re sure she’s onto you, and everyone else in the orchestra’s just getting on with playing. Throw some beach balls in the crowd, for goodness sake – just looking at people playing music is BORING.

2. Introduce beer in plastic cups

There are so many reason we believe that beer in plastic cups would make the experience for the audience more enjoyable. We need memories of the concert that no one listening to an album recording can obtain. Beer soaked shoe memories. Also, if we have captured the Zeitgeist  correctly, everyone at a classical music concert holds an air of disdain toward everyone around them for no apparent reason. Let’s direct that disdain towards the people who deserve it. It’s pretty much entrapment, but let’s have a beer bar, and then start hating on the people who go to get a beer during the second movement and work their way through the (standing) crowd with the beer lifted above their heads shouting ” ‘scuse me, beer coming through, watch your head.” I hated that guy. But last night it brought me closer to the woman next to me who also hated that guy.

3.Let people move around whenever they like

Why do you have to be such a stick in the mud, classical music world? Why do you have to tut and sneer at those who cough, sigh, and move about in their seats during a movement? While watching Duffy, sorry Paloma, last night people weren’t just moving about during the songs – they were actively changing places, stretching their legs, and leaving the room to go to the bathroom, to have a smoke, and to fill up on the afore mentioned beer cups, in order so they can re-enter the floor 10 minutes later with more force, and get closer to the stage. Yes, it may have interrupted the piece for EVERYONE they were PUSHING PAST, but chill out grandpa, whatever, it’s not as if you can’t download the gig within an hour after it finishing. Which brings us nicely onto

4. Make the concert instantly downloadable

We’ve had many a conversation at GetJazzical HQ about the point where we stop enjoying concerts and want to start remembering enjoying the concert.  The iTunes festival have made this so vividly possible by making the the entire concert a recording session with free whooping, so they don’t have to shell out for that expensive stock whooping.  This would be a great coup for the classical music world because firstly the audience can try and get on the recording by shouting out during the performance things like “I love you Camilla Kerslake!” or “play Le Onde!” The artists would love it, as it would promote impromptu adulation, and also people would feel more of a part of the experience. Olly shouted “take your top off, Winehouse!” last night. I’m already downloading to see if his holler made the final cut. We need more hollers in classical concerts.

It’s also like a big giant skyplus pause button. And means you can leave before the end and miss the crowds on the way out. Genius.

5.  Play instantly recognisable covers that inadvertently show that your songs aren’t as good.

This might be difficult, as a lot of classical concerts play dead composers, but why not shake it up in your own way. A night of Beethoven? Slip in some Chopin. Oh no they didn’t. Chopin? Now? So versatile! PHILIP GLASS IS PLAYING SOME MAX RICHTER? I’M RECORDING THIS ON MY NEW HD CAMERA ON MY IPHONE4 AND UPLOADING IT STRAIGHT TO YOUTUBE! Crowds love that stuff. It gives them something to talk about, and tweet about, and brag about. “We saw the LSO wedge in a cover of a Puccini track, during a medley of Stravinsky” etc. It makes the audience feel special.

Or even if you’re not playing the entire piece, do a different intro, alluding to something else. I will pay big moneyto see a Brahms piece with the strings of Viva la Vida as an intro. BIG MONEY.

6. Elevate players to a hero/demi-god like status

Paloma was really into this. Like, REALLY into this. She spent more time inviting touching from the audience than she did on stage. And the crowd were all over her. Can you imagine the guy playing the concerto jumping into the press pit area (oh, we have to have this as well) and leaning into the crowd who fondle and grope him as he keeps playing the piece? He dreams of it nightly. Let’s make it a reality.

Imagine it - Paloma is the conductor, guitarist is the flautist. Hot.

7.Name check the whole band

Who cares how long it goes on for? During the last song/movement get the conductor to name everyone who has played that night, and allow them a little moment to do something kooky, crazy, or impressive with a couple of bars of music. Go on, they deserve it. They’ve played all the difficult notes, and no one has noticed them. When they get to lead violin status in a few years and jump into the crowd they won’t be able to cope with all that groping unless they’ve received some love in the early years.

We hope this has aided and moved along the conversation that is being had all over the internet. We’re sure there are many more aspects to a Paloma Faith concert that can make the classical music world more interesting. I mean, we didn’t even get started on the crotch close ups on the big screens, but then maybe that’s because there are some things we’d be better leave to the former burlesque performers.

This is the church where it all went down.

Not a good start. Alasdair  (who has bought these tickets and is therefore responsible) and I are sitting on the cold, hard pews of St. Giles church and my buttocks are aching as very real pain creeps up my spine. Around us people are looking confused as the tortured tinklings of an Icelandic man dressed in black fill the room. This isn’t Jóhann Jóhannsson: Master of minimalist arrangement. This isn’t the man we’ve paid to see and as warm-ups go it’s positively shady. The music is OK. It’s like watching an Autumn breeze ruffling an old oak tree in the calm gloaming of sunset before realising that there are better things you could be doing like watching TV.

I last what I guess are two songs (it’s almost impossible to figure out when the pieces are over, as the piano just sort of dribbles to halt before starting up again with more clunky minor chords) I then rise from the wooden slats designed to remind church-goers of quite how much Christ suffered for their sins and I walk away, Alasdair in aghast tow.

“We can’t walk out!” he hisses as the man in black hammers away at the low notes.

The pub is a bit loud with a cover band lurching between Jason Mraz and The Sex Pistols but the wine’s cheap and it gives me a chance to vent. Alasdair reminds me that he paid for the tickets. I tell him it’s a moot point.

This is not Johann Johannsson but it is in St Giles'.

When we return to the church its spacious interior has filled with people who seem to have got the memo about the late start. I find a prayer cushion and sit on it. It’s completely dark inside, the only light coming from glowing mobile phones and a few solitary candles on the stage. I think the musicians are taking their positions but I can’t see much beyond the man in front of me.

Then, slowly, the music starts and it’s like the voice of the wizard behind the curtain, everyone looks up at the stained glass above the piano where a projector starts rolling black and white clips of workers at a smelting plant, now a flower and now a trickling river. Somehow it’s not trite.

The pieces are audaciously beautiful with the feeling of grand tragedy about them, if the end of mankind ever needs a score it should be ‘Fordlandia’. Jóhannsson segues elegantly between strident riffs that verge on electronica and the flutterings of his 2006 album IBM 1401. He mixes pieces together, swivelling between the keyboard and his laptop to add in samples and effects. He’s a DJ with a Steinway.

This is the kind of arty stuff Olly hates.

Nobody has a clue how to react to this, it’s so personal, I feel like a trespasser watching a private recital. The woman next to me starts to clap and then abruptly stops as the music continues, barely audible. The man to my left has his eyes closed, head bowed down to the floor.

Suddenly I’m glad to be here – the muggers, rapists and rudeboys may be roaming the streets outside but here I’m watching a grainy film of an erupting volcano.

OXJAZZ SPECIAL PART I: We’ve got the first in our roving-reporting-recordings of the splendiferous OxJazz Festival and it’s here NOW for your podcasting pleasure. Featured in this episode are: Alvin Roy, Seb Pipe and Dave O’Higgins. Click here for more info…

BBC INTERVIEW: The chaps at BBC Radio Oxford asked the GetJazzical boys to take care of an interview with Liane Carroll for them and for good measure they also decided to interview our heroes as well, have a gander at the video…

Look at them all! They're like ants!

This episode almost never happened because Olly just had to go and go to Rome didn’t he? The combination of girls, gelato and grappa were very nearly too much to resist and we almost lost him. In fact on his last day in the ancient city he was found, his arms wrapped around a Corinthian column, screaming that they’d have to prise him loose. They did and he’s back. On an aside, do you know how many tourists there are in Rome? F’ing loads of them! Absolutely everywhere like a dirty smear on a silk dress – if you’re the kind of person who clings to your sense of superiority to keep you buoyant in this world of chavs, bursting hospitals and early releases then Rome can be hard to get along with cos it’s really hard to feel elite when you’re being jostled by an overweight Texan man who inexplicably keeps trying to smell your hair as you admire the Sistine chapel.

But the episode… Golly gosh, gee and wow – this is something else. In the runup to the OXFORD JAZZ FESTIVAL your friends at GJ have pulled out the stops with a luscious playlist including:

Adam Rafferty – Chameleon: This guy beatboxes whilst he plays the guitar and he covers Herbie Hancock. Now read that again. Yeah, I know. He is spectacular and he’s playing at OxJazz so you and I get to see him LIVE! Lucky us.  Tickets and more here.

Carly Commando – Bear:  Olly loves this chick. She made a new album called ‘One Take’ and it’s available on her MySpace right bloody now – smooth and rhythmic, listen to it naked. In the bath, obviously.

The Fauxharmonic Orchestra - Beethoven Symphony No. 1 in C 1st Movement: So much more to say about this incredible guy. Paul Henry Smith takes control an enormous library of musical notes played by real orchestras and ‘conducts’ them live with two wii-motes. Seriously incredible and just the sort of thing that gets our engines running here at GJ. Check out this video for more:

Peter Gregson - Omina: Very daring, very avant-garde, Peter uses beats, licks and harmony more like a DJ than the professional cellist that he is. Peter is currently ‘genius in residence’ at The Hospital Club which has become a new obsession for us here at GJ and we often recline and dream of planning our next podcast whilst sipping a cool G&T in cool surroundings with cool people at the club. One day. One day

Clara Sanabras & The Real Lowdown - Love for Sale:  ANOTHER OxJazz artist and a doozy at that, we have a feeling she’ll be incredible live and can’t wait to find out if we’re right.  Tickets here.

It’s big, it’s clever and it doesn’t care who knows it – send us a tweet, buzz us and BOOK YOUR TICKETS TO OXFORD NOW! We got a pretty sweeet last minute hotel deal here and you should too, you can even stay in a prison which looks super foxy.

In 2007, a terrified new member of the radio committee mentioned a love for Yo-Yo Ma and the rest is our relatively short history. Well, last week Olly and Alasdair sat down to listen to an early broadcast. It wasn’t a vanity exercise, believe us. In fact, it was a bit like replaying a bad first/last date. Moments of “Oh, did I really say that?!” “Somebody say something, this is getting awkward” and the belief from only one side of the table that there was definite chemistry in the air brought dark, lonely, memories flooding back to both presenters.

However, what we did realise (and this was the real reason we were listening (honest) –  is that we played some pretty good music. Before the days where we had to “ask” and “get permission” to play the music on our show, we went nuts. And after a tweet from one of our fans, asking for a GetJazzical Spotify playlist, we thought we’d oblige by archiving the music we used to play on a show we once called “Jazzical“.

So, to all of you who wonder what kind of music we’re really into, or just generally fascinated by the story arc that is (Get)Jazzical,  have a listen! It’s on Spotify so if you don’t have Spotify GET WITH THE PROGRAM, JEEZ!

It’s awards season, ladies and gentlemen – that couple of months in the calendar  that ensures every free newspaper out there is concentrating on awkward double acts, mutton dressed as lamb, jokes sinking like lead balloons, and the ramblings of trumped up entertainers you are sure you’ve never heard of going on for longer than they should.

It was with that in mind that we recorded Episode Three of our second season. If you want to hear the conversation of two over tired graduates who have both reached the end of the honeymoon periods of their “real” jobs in the “real” world, then you are in for a treat! You probably won’t notice the difference, and we know you really came for the music, so here’s the scoop:

We kick off with the infectious snare of the  Salvatore Bonafede Trio, before enjoying the ultra laid back piano playing of the eponymous hero of the Jazz outfit.

After that we check out Tom Norris. We’re all over this guy. Like a rash. It’s bad. But Olly had cream for something else that he had, and it seems to be helping us out with this too. His album launch was on the 23rd February at the Forge, Camden and he’s going strong.

You would think that if we were playing Clair De Lune we would be focussing on the merits of the performer (Fuzjko Hemming) and whether or not he does justice to the piece. Or you would if you weren’t a regular listener. Instead we get a apoplectic rant from Olly and confused sentence structure from Alasdair. And, by the way, the synopsis Olly was referring to can be found here and it’s awesome.

After we play some proper good old fashioned Jazz from Benny Hill, or someone like that, we finale with a sublime piano solo from someone we are sure to give more time to in the future: Richard Anthony Jay. But he might have to have a song played in an angsty teen movie before he registers on Olly’s radar.

Just another regular old show from a podcast nominated for the European Podcast Awards. Oh, did we not mention that before? Oops… MORE TO COME ON THIS.  MUCH MORE.

In our latest episode, Alasdair prematurely celebrated GetJazzical’s first birthday (our first episode was actually in March ’09) but it was around this time last year that we began to explore the net for other means of finding classical music in our bid to make it accessible, and understood by the masses, not just those with taffeta, once again. And this last year we’ve been astounded to find that we’re not alone. While there are some who throw up a little in their mouths if they thought about sitting next to someone in a t shirt while enjoying an evening of Mahler, the ones playing the music are thinking very differently.

Take James Rhodes for example. Classic FM described him as a “classical pianist with a rock star attitude”. Rhodes is a remarkable talent, and he’s also someone who doesn’t see that there is necessarily a link between bowties and piano playing. Rhodes is someone who would sit as comfortably in a bar in Shoreditch as he would on the stage at the Albert Hall. This incredible video of a performance at the Camden Roundhouse, gives an impression of the kind of performer Classic FM were talking about, and the kind of place he performs in:

As guys who are still in the cloakroom looking into the cocktail party of classical music we are able to observe that if  ”a programme that features Bach alongside Beethoven, Chopin and Moszkowski” is currently considered sticking their fingers up at the classical music establishment, we have a bit of a way to go. However, when thinking about bringing the music and the genre to the people, Rhodes is a leader. He’s Beethoven with an iPhone, he’s Carl Maria Friedrich Ernst von Weber* 2.0. In tweeting, myspacing and youtubing, we are not only invited into the music halls of the concerts when we can’t get a ticket, we’re also invited into the lives of the musicians and realise that actually, they’re just like us. Sometimes they are even more boring. While their use of social networking is no doubt a form of self promotion (hey, it’s why we do it – that and so we can interact with our lovely fans….please follow us…) they are, perhaps on some occasions unknowingly, tackling the bigger issue of knocking classical music of that imaginary pedestal that  some people at some point put it on.

We know we’ve only just scratched the surface when it comes to this grassroots movement of jazz and classical musicians. We’re only a year old, and are still in the dribbling, crying, and wetting ourselves stage of this project. So please help us – get in touch, whether you are directing our eyes to the musician who deserves the spotlight, or are that musician, trying to plug themselves here, there, and everywhere, because you know you have something important to add to the conversation.

*No, I’ve never heard of him either. But it was clever. AND funny.

‘Things can only get better‘ sang portly Labour party members in 1997, sweat cascading down their fat, pink little faces as they jiggled about in exuberant glee at the dawn of a new political era.  It all ended rather badly BUT the same cannot be said for the boys of GetJazzical who just keep on getting better!

Yes, the second episode, in a season that has already been described as ‘chronological’ and ‘sequential’ is upon us and it’s all about the music.  This might just be our finest musical hour.  It’s Beyonce fine.  Let’s have a delve and see what we’ve got:

Vijay Iyer – Galang:  A prominent jazz artist would never do a cover of the rapper M.I.A. I mean c’mon they’re nothing alike.  That’ll never happen.  Ever.

Westcott & Rodway – Song One:  Break out the Coronas and flick your nimble fingers in some air flamenco to a fun, strutting piece of jazz fusion.

Herman Chittison Trio – Ain’t Misbehaving:  Warm , snuggly old time jazz to get all loose to.

James Rhodes – French Suite #5, Allemande (Bach):  So, not much to say about the piece – I mean, it’s Bach.  Of course it’s aces.  Instead just listen to the playing – lovely and restrained when it needs to be and delightfully expressive where the score allows.  We’ll be featuring Mr Rhodes more in the future for sure.  TWEET HIM UP.

Beats & Pieces – Bake:  Straight from a 1950′s crime caper, seriously enjoyable bit of funky jazz.  Love it.