Cat-watching

Cats are always uneasy in windy weather. Both my own and next door's felines look nervous and unsettled by the gusts today. It's easy to imagine why - all mammals, especially highly territorial ones like cats, depend so much on their sense of smell to keep them alive. Not only does their sense of smell help find prey and alert them to danger from potential predators, it also establishes their place in the world, delineating its borders and telling them when that world has been breached by competitors. To have the natural scents carrying all that information dispersed by gusts of wind must leave them as disorientated as we would feel if we were rendered temporarily blind in our own homes!

African Jazz Allstars, St Georges, 22 October

I never majored in Jazz in the University of Music, but this was a real uplifting night of funky, tuneful numbers performed with panache. There was a bright brassy swagger underpinned by a tight rhythm section, and the solos (especially by trumpeter Claude Deppa) were excellent. Despite boasting members from many African countries and claiming musical influences as diverse as soukous and highlife, the sound seemed rooted very much in the South African tradition pioneered by the likes of Hugh Masekela. A most enjoyable, if not overly exciting, evening.

Lynchian Moments

I've always been ambivalent about David Lynch as a film-maker, but now, when I guess his creative energy has more or less ebbed completely away (or is he still making interesting films? You tell me) perhaps it's time to look back on his career and celebrate his achievement. I feel bludgeoned into submission after years of denying his magic - he did make some great films. Erasorhead, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Dr. are all favourites, and The Straight Story is wondrous.

And, like Hitchcock, in retrospect it's not just the creepiness, the examination of life's dark underbelly and the murderous that emerge most strongly from Lynch's oeuvre, it's the beauty, the glamour and the emotional power as well. Let's hear it for David Lynch.

Rango, St Georges, Bristol, 18th October

Call me a snob, but why do the best concerts in Bristol attract the least number of punters? A pitifully small audience turned out for an evening of what the publicity called 'Sudanese voodoo trance music'. Rango are now based in Egypt, playing traditional instruments ranging from crystal-toned lyres and tanburas to percussive Sudanese balafons. Add a plethora of other percussion instruments plus spirited vocals and you have a recipe for joyous music-making.

The evening started with a couple of numbers featuring lyre and percussion - the result was the sort of impenetrable polyrhythm I associate with late nights in the Siam tent at Womad. The rest of the evening was a headlong dash towards darbuka/bass drum-led tunes as the band expanded to involve other instrumentalists and singers. The driving percussion got us out of our seats and the spectacular costumes and dancing lent a visual excitement that equalled the music.

I was reminded of El Tanbura at times, but Rango were more exciting, energetic and edgy. A very fine band.

Seckou Keita Quintet, St Georges, 4th October

I think it might have been Jean-Paul Sartre who once reflected that 3 o'clock in the afternoon is always either too early or too late for doing anything. He was obviously not a football fan or, indeed, a follower of that fine international band of musicians, the Seckou Keita Quintet, who played a three-quarters full St Georges Hall this afternoon. What a great gig! Despite my ongoing slight problem with Samy Bishai's fiddle-playing (although it seems to work OK on CD, I never quite warm to it 'live'), the band were superb. Seckou is such a fine Kora player, and a beautifully dreamy solo in the second half of the concert was a highlight, but I also loved Binta Suso's searing, if a little uncontrolled, vocals. Some great drumming from Surahata Susso helped drive things along, but another revelation was the bass-playing of Davide Mantovani - lyrical when it needed to be and punchy at all other times.

The music was always interestingly layered, varied in tempo, fascinatingly syncopated. The audience were on their feet by the second half, with a couple of energetic male dancers on stage galvanising the crowd. The only thing I missed was Seckou's tama-playing, a highlight when I saw him a few years ago. Never mind, this was a great afternoon's entertainment - even better than the footy!