1 He gets verve. He works it. Gets it as one might a kettle. Drums it. Rumbles it. Subjects to analysis. Extends. Tends to words he voids – unverves – varies verve reverses it. Reverses it, voices, it heavily overtoned, heartily overturned an upside-down crate of apples. Gets vast. Wakes it. Makes it conscious, conscious of itself, conscious is it functional in extremes, well- redolent; well, really well
2 He opens the black fingering as easily as the grave backs into a face Life defies the easy and the written determined by the hidden to reveal the exact The exact is only perfect here, in an imagination
Pete Kubryk-Townsend (as part of Viv Rodd Trio), St Ives Jazz Club 12 September 2006
sometimes the bass goes first
and often they diverge
making interesting detours, elaborating the bind between breaking time a moving innate voice is awake dead stop walking but staying, slap Styx against banks of muttering listeners
The bass plays back at him. They go at it. Jigging, on the spot, on top of the world near the tip at the end.
Really working at it. Joy on his face. The bass impressive. But both naked in some big ways, descending each step and scraping off for joie de vivre’s élan and getting off on each tune up a squeezed ascent, getting now, here, quickly; getting to knew, how contentedly
