Above: Multi-instrumentalist James Morrison
This might be an odd thing to say, but I feel that James Morrison is going from strength to strength. I say odd, because Morrison’s performances for a long time have invariably been sold out and, by any standards, extraordinarily successful. With such success under his belt, some might think that Morrison has already arrived, and has nowhere to go. But I venture to say that this performance of his quartet at The Lounge in Chatswood on Apr 16, 2026, with the addition of the vocalist Darren Percival, was indeed something else.
It’s not that Morrison is doing anything other than exploring his customary repertoire: familiar standards from the Great American Songbook, and well-known jazz compositions. But as always with Morrison, his treatment of such works is interesting and innovative, providing variety from start to finish. This performance was resplendent with elements I had rarely heard before, which only confirmed why Morrison dominates Australian jazz.
As usual Morrison’s quartet, other than himself (trumpet, flugelhorn, trombone, soprano sax and piano), included William Morrison (guitar & vocals), Harry Morrison (double bass), and Patrick Danao (drums). They opened the concert with the lovely standard The End of a Beautiful Friendship, as an instrumental. They were then joined by the singer Darren Percival, perhaps best-known as the runner-up in 2012 on the first season of the Nine Network’s singing competition The Voice. Morrison moved to the piano while Percival sang the Harold Arlen tune I’ve Got The World on a String, which dates back to 1932.
This was followed by the Harry Warren/Mack Gordon tune The More I See You, which dates back to 1945, done on this occasion as a gentle bossa nova. This was an unusual time-feel for this tune, as it’s usually heard with a swing-feel. During this tune Morrison picked up his flugelhorn for his solo, while Percival went into his falsetto, singing notes which were higher than his normal vocal range, a technique for which he showed a liking from time to time during his splendid performance.
It was then on to Duke Ellington’s 1940 composition Don’t Get Around Much Anymore, during which Morrison demonstrated his well-known showstopper by playing more than one note simultaneously on the trombone, an instrument which is normally capable of only one note at a time. Percival and Morrison began this together out of tempo, with Percival singing certain lyrics, which were then answered by Morrison’s chordal responses. I have no idea how difficult this technique, known as “multiphonics”, is to bring off. But I have never seen any other jazz musician attempting this, which I gather can be done on instruments other than the trombone. The way in which this was drawn out by Morrison and Percival was very entertaining, particularly when in the process Morrison actually achieved three notes in harmony over and above the normal two.
The whole chorus was then played out in full with Percival’s vocal over a normal swing-feel. Harry Morrison played a brilliant bass solo, followed by four-bar breaks taken by Percival and Danao on drums. To close the first set, it only remained for the band to play It Don’t Mean a Thing (If it Ain’t Got That Swing), written by Duke Ellington as long ago as 1931. Interestingly, according to Wikipedia, the Ellington version was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2008. On this occasion, the Morrison band adopted a funk feel – again an unusual decision, as this tune normally employs a swing-feel. This tune featured for the first time on the night, a guitar solo from William Morrison, while James used his plunger mute to produce the sort of growling sounds which were characteristic of the great trumpeters in the legendary Ellington band. This spirited version of one of the great popular jazz standards ended the first set on a high.
Morrison opened the second set with an unusual surprise – a discussion of the style of one of the most distinctive pianists in jazz history Erroll Garner. Seated at the piano Morrison demonstrated how Garner put together his fingering in the right hand, and how he characteristically thumped out strong four beats to the bar with his left hand. I have noticed previously glimpses of Garner’s style in Morrison’s own piano playing, but this is the first time I have seen an Australian jazz artist in effect conduct what was a brief tutorial about the style of a great American jazz musician. I found it not only interesting, but also highly educational.
Morrison then illustrated his talk by playing, in Erroll Garner’s style, the standard Deep Purple, first recorded in 1934 by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. It was noticeable when the band commenced, Danao on the drums initially played at a whisper, until Morrison increased his energy, and the volume came up. This was a reminder of the crucial role Danao plays in this quartet. I have remarked on his prowess in previous reviews, but here let me quote from the perceptive jazz enthusiast who accompanied me to the gig: “The master holding them all together was Patrick Danao. Throughout the night he displayed a relaxed, sensitive, supportive and sparkling flexibility of drumming. This is so good to hear in Sydney where some drummers are over-busy and intrusive.”
I agree wholeheartedly with this summation. I cannot think of a more accomplished drummer than Danao that I’ve heard over recent years, and certainly I would bracket him with a handful of others in the highest echelon of drummers in this country. His performance at The Lounge was a delight, and I have no doubt that the Morrisons are very glad that the engine room behind them should be controlled by such a tasteful musician.
Darren Percival was then back onstage to sing For All We Know. This great song was first recorded in 1934, but my own favourite is Nat King Cole’s lovely 1958 version. As this song was done two-out with Percival accompanied solely by Morrison on piano, this was further evidence of the thought that had apparently gone into the nature of this performance. In a jazz scene where many groups might play two whole sets without varying the personnel, that is to say, everyone playing at once, Morrison and his colleagues are not averse to resting say the rhythm section, which brings the temperature of the performance down, rather than bombard an audience with relentless high energy. Percival sat in the crook of the piano and effectively nailed For All We Know, showing that, without doubt, he could sing a Big Ballad.
From that point on, I felt that a standing ovation from the sold-out crowd in The Lounge was inevitable. Morrison framed his introduction of the next tune, On The Sunny Side of the Street, around Louis Armstrong. This is a 1930 song composed by Jimmy McHugh with lyrics by Dorothy Fields. (Is anyone getting the idea that the 1930s and 1940s were a particularly golden period for great popular songs?) As Armstrong had been mentioned, Percival introduced the occasional Armstrong inflexion in his vocal, and Morrison, now back on trumpet, played some spirited Armstrong-style phrases, using his plunger mute, which was whimsically referred to as a “toilet plunger”.
With such an outstanding specialist singer on hand, I wasn’t necessarily expecting William Morrison to sing very much, so it was an unexpected pleasure to hear him invited to do the popular Henry Mancini tune Moon River, which has been a showstopper in previous Morrison gigs. James now picked up his (unusually curved) soprano saxophone, to play a lovely improvisation.
As with most jazz enthusiasts I’ve long been aware of the convention of jazz musicians writing a new melody over the harmonic structure of an already existing tune; this was particularly common during the bebop era. But I was not aware that this practice was officially termed a “contrafact” until Morrison mentioned it at his last gig at The Lounge in August, 2025. With James Morrison around, life can be an education. To illustrate how effective the contrafact can be, William Morrison sang Kurt Elling’s Did You Call Her Today? while Percival sang Ellington’s In a Mellow Tone, both tunes sharing the same chord structure. They did these tunes separately first, and then after the improvisations both tunes were sung together. This was a lot of fun to hear, and I felt this apparently spontaneous experiment worked pretty well.
Next, the inevitable standing ovation, with the five musicians taking a bow. I can’t remember whether they left the stage but, as usual, Morrison deflated the rather pretentious convention which I think originates with classical music. The conductor of an orchestra, or a soloist after having played a concerto, leaves the stage and waits in the wings listening to the applause, only coming back onstage if the applause continues. Of course everyone knows that the performers are definitely coming back for a curtain call, so Morrison I feel is perfectly justified in sending up what is in the end a somewhat empty convention. So, it was on with the encore without delay.
Morrison asked the audience to vote on which of three songs he nominated that they preferred: You’ve Got a Friend; How Deep is Your Love; or What a Wonderful World. A bright spark in the audience suggested that, rather than put this to a vote, the band should play all three songs, a challenge which Morrison was glad to accept. The vocals were shared by William Morrison and Percival, and the three tunes were segued into each other.
Interestingly, their version of What a Wonderful World was done in ¾, a highly unusual time signature for this well-known song, which is usually done in 4/4. In many ways the latter was a highlight, as Percival did it first with accompaniment from Harry Morrison’s double bass only. There was also a great moment, when Percival took the microphone away and filled the venue with the acoustic sound of his great voice, a reminder for me that I heard Sarah Vaughan do this in New York in July, 1981, when she brought the house down.
I’m happy to end this review with a further comment from the friend who accompanied me to the concert: “My favourite moment was when Harry Morrison and Darren Percival improvised together in the encore trilogy”, she wrote. “Harry was brilliant and Darren finally relaxed (he had said that he was a little anxious in the presence of his niece). Together they wove an exciting play of notes against and with each other – such clever fun! William Morrison sang a lovely solo in that finale as well, his poppish vocal style had hints of Stevie Wonder.”
The Jazz At The Lounge Series in Chatswood is curated by Jackie Thomas-Piccardi of Cinque Artist Management. The latest concert in the series took place on April 16, 2026, courtesy of support from Willoughby Council’s arts and culture program “Culture Bites”. It featured James Morrison (trumpet, flugelhorn, trombone, soprano saxophone, piano), Darren Percival (vocals), William Morrison (guitar & vocals), Harry Morrison (double bass) and Patrick Danao (drums).
