To suggest that Sonny Blount’s Fletcher Henderson Appreciation Society is currently preoccupied with the big band era as parody, pastiche or nostalgia is to imply contrivance, an effect deliberately strived for, but there was little striving in this big band.
The set was a sandwich, two thick slabs of piano-led big band swing, with odd r ’n’ b charts and Latin shuffles inserted for variety, surrounding a synthesised filler of very mean proportions. It was left to soloists Gilmore and Patrick to sharpen the flavour with a tug into the current decade, but Ra soon heaved the band back, trotting out yet another uptempo attack on Mack The Knife or a quick boogie-woogie break for kicks. While less shambolic than on previous outings, the trumpet and trombone duo giving the ensemble passages a harder brass feel and rhythmic pull than before, the whole feeling was one of tattiness, a sloppiness of musical presentation and ideas that was not covered up by the band’s sparkling fezzes, the two gyrating dancers, or the fetching leopard skin frock and coordinated fur hat worn by Mr Blount.
If revisiting the thirties is Ra’s current preoccupation – and astral mysticism has certainly been downgraded, this earth-bound mortal is pleased to report – he is finding it difficult to communicate his vision to his band. Big bands played with purposeful determination, but the Arkestra lacked any sense of direction. It was sad to see Ra in this state.
