Returning to Leeds for a one-off homecoming, the Guildhall jazzer’s set was rough around the edges but oozed with potential. Aided by a stellar trio of groove-makers, Parthenope’s dexterity on saxophone in particular is already dazzling.
It’s no secret now that the new world of British jazz is fertile ground for fresh talent. Ever since a talented cohort of young jazzers emerged on the scene in the late 2010s (Nubya Garcia, Oscar Jerome, Shabaka Hutchings and Ezra Collective being amongst the most prominent), the growing popularity and newfound coolness of contemporary jazz has been a wonderful thing to witness, and the rise of the moment shows no signs of slowing. The vast range of instrumental and stylistic choices allowed within the vague confines of the word ‘jazz’ has made the characteristics of a new ‘UK jazz’ genre difficult to pin down. Groups could be anything from traditional jazz trios to huge, ever-changing collectives or odd-ball percussion-driven quartets (see the now disbanded Sons of Kemet), often with a refreshing splash of electronics or the earthy touches of ancestral Afrobeat.
Leeds born and raised and still a student at London’s esteemed Guildhall School of Music, Parthenope Wald-Harding’s take on modern jazz is, like many of her contemporaries, none of the above. In her music, soulful vocals meet intricately funky guitar backings, but the emphasis is always on her winding Charlie Parker-esque alto saxophone lines, which dance over each slinky groove like a ribbon in flight. As it stands, the 20-year-old has positioned herself as one of the most promising rising stars in the scene, having already snagged herself a spot in the illustrious Blue Note Re:imagined II covers compilation disc alongside now well established acts such as Franc Moody, Maya Delilah and Nubiyan Twist. Catching her this early – Wald-Harding is yet to release her first original song – brings with it the thrill of seeing an artist at the moment their career begins to blossom and, more importantly, the possibility of being able to gloat about seeing her live a few years down the line once having to explain how to pronounce her remarkable real name becomes a thing of the past (think “penelope”).
Wald-Harding’s career in music may just be dawning, but a one-off homecoming concert in the cosy Wardrobe successfully pulled in an encouraging crowd of local fans already well aware of her talents. Her set may have lacked familiar tracks, but there were plenty of highlights to get excited about for 2023, with What You Wanted an assured and instantly danceable opener. On this and many other songs, Wald-Harding’s skill as a musician was more than matched by the trio of Guildhallers that completed the band, in particular laser-focussed drummer Tom Potter, whose complex, nuanced funk grooves managed to be engaging but never obnoxiously technical, a feat not all of jazz drummers can pull off. Solos were dished out liberally amongst the band, and it was guitarist Toby Daintree provided the standout improvisation of the bunch with his restless riffing over strutting Pigeon Park.
As a singer, it must be said, Wald-Harding tended to come across as somewhat tentative, never quite willing to go all in on a vocal even when Kinzan Mu’s outrageous bass fills urged her onwards. With a sax reed at her lips, however, Wald-Harding was a force of nature, her solos direct and startling, often whizzing up and down the instrument’s full range before letting out a fearlessly long high shrieks as the crescendos summited. Her habit of standing still and shutting her eyes in concentration for each show stopping solo occasionally made it seem as if the saxophone was playing her, and her ability to only so much as twitch as her unrestrained melodies soared skywards was almost as remarkable as the playing itself.
Aptly-named Dynamite, an interpolation of the Roots’ tune of the same name originally performed by drummer Nate Smith and his band, provided both the simplest and most effective head, with Wald-Harding’s dexterity giving way to straightforwardly brilliant jazz-funk songwriting. Equipped with an outlandish chord progression and almost comically plodding bass line, the song was the boldest number of the night, and the wait for an inevitable studio recording of the track begins now. Potter’s ludicrously groovy closing drum solo alone was simply too good to hear only once.
It was a surprise that Wald-Harding’s only public release to date – a dreamy, tasteful cover of Nora Jones’ Don’t Know Why – was one of the night’s less remarkable numbers, her sax lines perhaps inevitably lacking the crystalline sheen of her career-launching recording. There were rough edges to be found in the rest of the set too – head re-entries that lacked conviction, intros that had bandmates seemingly looking to one another for reassurance and good songs that underwhelmingly fizzled into nothing at their conclusion (Dynamite included). Each of Wald-Harding’s band are most in their element when deep into a glorious, attention-grabbing solo, but a little more attention to detail elsewhere would have more convincingly sold the band as a group of emerging professionals.
Yet, with the impressive turnout and clear strength of Wald-Harding’s songwriting ability, the night had been a resounding success and well worth my tiring end-of-season journey to Leeds and back. That said, I was very pleased to see the band wrapping up shortly before 10pm, if it only meant I could grab an earlier train home after my original train had been cancelled. I even had time to nab a set list from the stage before embarking on a brisk walk to the station, only to find the train I had rushed for was indefinitely delayed. I may have ended up stranded at York station as midnight approached but, even then, regret about making the effort to see Parthenope was never on my mind. In many ways, seeing upstarts as genuinely talented as Wald-Harding at the start of their career is just as exciting as seeing well established pros dish out their tried-and-true hits. There’s something smug about hearing so many unreleased songs, especially when the vast majority of them seem like the sort of thing a whole generation of young jazz fans would go nuts for. I’m certain bigger things are coming for Parthenope, and when they do come I will be insufferable.