A Blue Note Latin hard-hopper 30 years ago, Henderson lay fallow in the fusion years of the Seventies to re-emerge as the most important sax-man of his generation with The State of the Tenor albums in 1985. This performance with his poll-winning Brazilian Double Rainbow Quartet was, therefore, the Brecon equivalent of an audience with the Pope.
On the face of it a descendant of Lester Young, Henderson is the most elegant figure imaginable. If they honk, they stem from the house of Hawkins (Coleman, 1901-69); if they’re quiet, or dare to sound pretty, they belong to the school of Young (Lester, 1909- 59) There is no alternative. Happily, Brecon’s sizeable contingent of world-class saxophonists refused to play according to the book
Take Joe Henderson, for instance. According to the book of Stalinist jazz lore, all tenor saxophonists are descended, like biblical tribes, from one of two roots.
But it would appear that they’re not reaching as many as they’d like to believe they are, despite the rapid growth in sales And it may be that they don’t like those they do reach. Ruthlessly ambitious, sweetly self-deluded, utterly charming – they seem less likely to change a brutal world than momentarily cheer it up.. He was a mutant biker gent
A Queequeg clone from Stoke-on-Trent
In rigger boots and forage capWith tattoos fit to grace a chapMore used to knocking buildings downThan minnying round in Camden TownHis favoured drinks were Jack or JimHe carried bottles round with himHis mole, who swigged Mad Dog ‘n’ VodConsidered Ozzy Osborne GodTheir tastes converging thereuponThey came to Castle DoningtonAnd there among the sea of cansWith hordes of Heavy Metal fansThey soaked themselves in sturm und drangAnd worshipped at the Church of KerrangWhile underneath his weekend gearThere lurked a civil engineerWhose girlfriend also kept it darkAbout her job as BT clerk. When I was young and idealistic, I thought, why can’t black and white live together? And then I moved to Hackney and got mugged by four 17-year-old black guys. I started to realise that a lot of white people and black people didn’t get on.”That’s Dodgy all over. Whether it’s drugs, race, women or politics, they’re in chaos.
They’re extending their friendly hand out over John Major’s Britain in an attempt to reach out and touch. Wilting fast under the lurid neon lighting, he attempts to explain: “Well, there’s not a lot of black geezers up in Stockton anyway.” (He appears to have forgotten its Asian community.) He thinks extra hard “But I know what you mean. He gets up suddenly and rushes off crying “Toilet!”When he returns, refreshed, I suggest that it’s intriguing that a band who say they love Bristol’s trip-hop scene because it involves “mixing black and white”, and who cite black people as their major heroes, should make records that appeal so explicitly to a white audience. At the same time, he’s not frightened by the idea that Dodgy now have mainstream appeal. Mathew, who has joined us, agrees that Dodgy have always wanted to be in Smash Hits, to appeal to “ordinary people”.Nigel then slopes off leaving Mathew to it.
He’s trying to concentrate but can only come out with statements like: “The trouble is, the health service is so good that there are more old people alive – and old people vote Tory.” Eh? A startled look suddenly crosses his face. Currently reading Will Hutton, he feels everyone should have a share of the good things in life It’s time for Marley to go to bed. Mother and child disappear as Nigel sighs: “They give me so much focus and drive and belief.”Nigel is more than confident about the Dodgy dream, which includes a plan to connect British people with Mexican revolutionary Marcos on the Internet. They’re 26 and they’ve never had a job.” And part of the problem, he believes, is that “no one comes to Stockton – that’s why I’m so excited about this tour”.