Reverend William Barber 1/27/25 Battell Chapel Yale

 Annual MLK commemoration at Yale’s beautiful chapel has fiery racial and social justice voice Barber opining on King and the state of our fragile democracy. The evening starts off with Shades, a multicultural acapella group of students who perform Lift Every Voice and Sing and We Shall Overcome. Standards of the African-American church, the near capacity audience sways and mouths along to these renditions. Next up is Influence, a local poet and rapper who recites his piece on sanitation workers. The symbolism of black people as America’s “necessary but invisible” garbage men is compelling. Introduced by the Dean of Yale’s divinity school, we learn that Barber holds 10 honorary doctorates. He is a go to fixture on cable news and is an eloquent speaker on issues of race and justice. The theme was Martin’s final speech, fittingly in support of the Memphis sanitation workers strike. Barber said that King struggled with “America’s schizophrenia” citing many examples of moving one step forward and two steps back. It is impossible to ignore the orange mushroom cloud that was recently inaugurated. Barber said that Martin wouldn’t be content with having a “day” in his honor, his work ethic was his trademark. William drew some striking parallels from history, the Spanish flu was scapegoated and bungled much like the coronavirus. Voting rights, civil rights have both taken hits under recent and I’m sure future Republican administrations, Barber reminded us to perservere. He pleaded with us to “know who we are” as we navigate our way forward. The second Trump administration promises to be awful and ugly, seems that they know who they are. Barber closed his talk with a call for unity, urging attendees to approach the altar and join hands in solidarity. I’m sure King was smiling in heaven. One minor, but glaring error, had the Divinity Dean referencing Barber’s work with the NCAAP, an unfortunate case of CRD (clueless racial dyslexia) showing us that we still have work to do.

Sasha Berliner 1/24/25 AFAM Cultural Center Yale

 Middle day of the annual Yale Undergraduate Jazz Collective festival has young vibraphone artist Berliner in a solo setting. Originally from Frisco, she now splits her time between NYC and LA leading and a member in a variety of groups. She sets up with some looping and effects boxes to create a percussive bed over which to play. Tapping the microphone and recording some shaker passages, she layers the vibes on top. This festival usually happens in April, maybe the YUJC wants to be more “inclusive” of winter months. The African-American center has a no frills assembly room that houses some programs on this festival weekend. Berliner seems to be on the spectrum as her intersong banter was shy and nerdy. Put some vibe mallets in her hands however, and she shines. I had a good view, when four mallets were used, the sound was typical magic wand wish granting. When Sasha moved to two mallets, the music turned more tribal. She name checked Gary Burton, the godfather of jazz vibes, as having influenced her work. One song, “The Worst Person in the World”  paid homage to an obscure Scandinavian film score.  Berliner has played with some top names in jazz, Tyshawn Sorey and Nicholas Payton being notable. The set was brief, but I am always happy to see the Collective showcase up and coming talent in the jazz world.

Paul “HR” Hudson w/ T!lt 1/16/25 Cafe 9

 Been a while since I’ve graced the musicians living room, Cafe 9. The current owners seem more content to slosh high power cocktails than put quality artists on the stage. Excited was I then to see this show posted. T!lt is a local moptop quartet of twenty-somethings whose fast paced punk delivery is a fresh assault in a sea of young singer songwriters. Bass, drums, lead guitar, and rhythm guitar shredded a barrage of two minute songs with such titles as “Buzzcut”. Both guitarists sang to great effect, snarling their way through the set. Look at these guys on Spotify and we learn they’ve been nominated for three Grammys, a Nobel Peace Prize, and are 5x three-legged race World Champions. Heady accomplishments for a crew that is also embroiled in multiple high profile lawsuits with everyone from Michael Buble to Yoko Ono. These guys will have a good time warming up for acts passing through.

HR ( Human Rights) is the stage name of punk legend Paul Hudson who was lead singer for the DC-based seminal punk outfit Bad Brains. Cited as an influence to No Doubt, Sublime, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Beastie Boys to name a few, Bad Brains had the distinction of melding machine gun delivery with a reggae ethos. Add to that fact, they were black, Bad Brains were definitely an anomaly in the early 80s punk scene. The live show from the Bad Brains reached mythic status, with “James Brown gone berserk” frontman HR stage diving, back flipping, and engaging in general parkour hijinx that highlighted the aggro assault. Fast forward 30 years and the punk and the parkour are gone leaving a 70ish Rastafarian with back trouble. OK for me since I am a big reggae fan. HR takes the stage with an A-list crew of Rastas, guitar, bass, drums, and keys with a seated HR spew an excellent set of roots reggae. Floor length dreads indicate reggae authenticity and these guys brought the goods. Themes of peace and love, I and I, Rastafar I, bubbled from a stew of bass and echo. HR even “zionized” the Lord’s Prayer for a dubby dose of religion. Authentic reggae shows are hard to come by, and I was glad to be in attendance for this one. Many attendees seemed to be waiting for the old HR, a guy in front of me even wore his shirt stating “Violent, Skinhead, Rock and Roll”. Reggae is anything but violent, and that guy exited mid-set. Evolution shows up in many areas of life, reggae is a logical twilight endeavor of HR. While some lamented the lack of punk, I reveled in the high level reggae that was on display.

Joe Morris w/ Bob Gorry Neverending Books 1/9/25

 Two area avant skronk provocateurs meet on a cold January night for a set of improvised noodling. Morris has been reviewed many times in this blog. He teaches music composition in Boston and organizes the excellent Improv Now series at Real Art Ways. He is also instrumental ( pun definitely intended) in playing with and wrangling for bookings at Firehouse 12. Gorry is a local scenester who helms NHIC ( New Haven Improvisors Collective) a loose group of likeminded noiseniks who gather at the bookstore to ply their trade. The evening was billed to have three groups, assuming these two would headline, I planned my entrance accordingly. Upon arrival, I appear mid set for Joe and Bob. It’s ok, it’s not like they were playing Free Bird where one could discern a beginning, a middle, and an end. The music is challenging, but in the close proximity of the book store environment, you could really get a feel for how the improv works. Morris squiggled with an array of effect pedals while Gorry squaggled sometimes resorting to his trusty knitting needle for percussive effect. There was one passage that sounded like Morris was strangling an alien from a 60s movie set. The two diverged then converged in service to a marching beat that seemed like the thread that held them together. I stuck around for the final group which highlighted local reed man and contra dance aficionado Paul Maguire. The group had piano, guitar, bass, and Paul. The three pieces had Paul on different honkers. First was a crusty looking alto sax that looked like it was exhumed from the East River along side of Albert Ayler. The second was a soprano sax, the “straight horn” as Steve Lacy used to call it. Finally, Paul pulled out a recorder, the simulskronk sounding like a fourth grade assembly, on acid. This community embraces anyone brave enough to play or listen to this music, which is a life lesson we all should heed.

Hamell On Trial w/ Eddie Seville 12/27/24 Best Video

 Regional singer songwriter Seville takes his comic one man brand band to the small BV stage. Perfect warmup act for HOT. Seville looks to be 50ish with some hard years tacked on to the hard miles of New England troubadouring. His signature tune High and Lonesome is less Wild West machismo and more I’m high and lonesome. He quips that his ex-girlfriend is a “relationship coach”, let that sink in. His tongue in cheek trans critique Son of a Sonofabitch gave a chuckle to the WPKN wrangled crowd. Seville told a funny story about a losing audition at a CT juke joint, he lost to a digeridooist. The intersong banter was great, at one point Seville mused that “you need a license to catch a fish, but anyone can procreate”. His new tune, “Seeing Double” at the end of the singles bar, seemed sadly autobiographical.

Austin based, former Buffalo NY juvenile delinquent Ed Hamell, is a folk punk dervish who assaults crowds under the moniker Hamell On Trial. His solo shtick was speedier and raunchier than Seville, but the tropes were similar. Love, relationships, substance abuse, legal brouhahas, seedy sketchiness, seem to infect the output. A political undercurrent also runs through many songs. The set starts with the Xmas ode Rudolph which quickly devolves into a reindeer therapy session. His poignant ditty “Safe” has Hamell stating that his shows are friendly meeting places to all varieties of square pegs. Another tune was about “3 drug- related incidences” that are absolutely true. A redwood sized spliff from some hitchhikers,  using prayer as a means of turning kitty litter into crack, and snorting some yellow powder found in a floating briefcase while fishing off the keys. Instead of a 3 hour cocaine tour, the slacker fishermen located a crematorium medallion in their decidedly dud booty. Hamell spoke on parenting, his son Detroit just graduated from NYU film school. Hamell and Detroit have written a “play” where Hamell tirades are interrupted by video snippets from Detroit’s camera. One sequence had Hamell strumming a tune where he urged the subject to “do the right thing, and kill yourself”, applicable to Mitch McConnell, MTG, or any other right wing wacko that should disappear. The audience participation section had Hamell urging the crowd to yell “Fuck It” at the top of our lungs which was oddly cathartic. Shout out to Little Acorn Productions a new endeavor by a local kook to bring music you’d want to see to venues you’d want to support. Hamell is pals with another Buffalo square peg, Ani Difranco, who has a similar machine gun delivery. I’m fascinated with lyrics that straddle comedy and outsider life, Seville and Hamell are both excellent purveyors.

Tyshawn Sorey Trio 12/6/24 Firehouse 12

 Got an advance ticket for the TST, advisable as the room was nearly filled. Drummer Sorey lived in the area while spending time at Wesleyan soaking in some of the wisdom of Anthony Braxton. The trio on this evening featured Aaron Diehl on piano and Harish Raghavan on standup bass. The sound reminded me of Ahmad Jamal’s threesomes only the drummer is out front. Tyshawn is a hulk of a man, and seems hulkier since my last viewing. With his 70s afro, he looks more like a bouncer in a blaxploitation flick. His effortless technique and simple drum kit show a master drummer whose compositions straddle jazz and modern classical. Rhagavan seems to be a perfectionist, coming out before the set and pinching the sound guy to sharpen his tone. Diehl seemed chameleonic. The set started with a piano-centric Horace Silver tune with Diehl plinking in a straight ahead style. Sorey’s switch from mallets to sticks to brushes exponentially expanded the sound. Raghavan was intense, his solo sections were fluid and rubbery. Tyshawn said the group was returning the next day to the Firehouse studio to cut a new record. The improv that we were treated to will be fleshed out and released on the F-12 label. Sorey is a master collaborator, joining forces with the likes of Vijay Iyer, Linda May Han Oh, Leo Smith, Bill Laswell, Kris Davis, and Ingrid Laubrock. He is a MacArthur Genius recipient who has recorded in Texas’ Rothko Chapel. The music at this venue is always fascinating, this seasons lineup has been stellar.

Bassoonarama 12/5/24 Sudler Hall, Yale

 No annum would be complete without attending the annual holiday “gathering of the bassoons”. Professor Morelli is not only a master bassoonist, but an expert in program concept. This evenings program was “the Bassoonarama You Can’t Refuse: Wolfgang Meets the Godfather”. Every year I marvel at the wide range of young people who choose bassoon as their spirit instrument. Returning from last year a young black woman and the googley-eyed middle eastern kid. They are joined by a prim female puckerer, a wispy young woman, a flamboyant cardigan model, and braugh, a long haired, bearded fireplug who looked to be wearing an ill-fitted burgundy leisure suit. The crew starts with Eine Kleine Nachtbassoon Musik, Mozart’s jewel, usually played with strings. The program was interspersed with selections from Rossini’s Barber of Seville. These sections had each student in duet mode with Morelli, the kicker was the student had to describe what was happening in the opera during their passage. Puckerton chose the trickery employed in relationships, Googley’s piece was about unrequited love (natch), cardiganboy focused on the fire (Fire Island?) generated by young love, while hairsuit’s piece was about money and the currency of love. I need the good Dr. to remind me why I love the bassoon sound. As a child in the 70s, I spent a lot of time with cartoons, loping turtles, inept criminals were usually soundtracked by the bassoon. Bugs Bunny had a memorable episode that borrowed heavily from The Barber of Seville, allowing me to reach back and remember the music. Next up was  Nino Rota’s wonderful music for The Godfather.  The Godfather Waltz, The Godfather Theme, and Michael’s Theme were mournfully delivered by the group. Morelli says he doesn’t subscribe to ethnic stereotypes, but a summer school class at Banff dubbed him the “godfather” which he says comes in handy when he needs to strike fear in his students. Fear seems like a rare commodity for this group, they all seem to genuinely like each other and their craft. The evening ends as always with a selection of Christmas tunes: Let it Snow, Winter Wonderland, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, I’ll Be Home For Christmas, and closed with Jingle Bell Rock. Traditions are born in the strangest places, I’m happy that the Christmas season is punctuated by a bassoon recital.