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.

Ben Goldberg, Todd Sickafoose, Scott Amendola 11/22/24 Firehouse 12

 West coast friends convene for a night at the Firehouse. Goldberg on clarinet, Sickafoose on standup bass, and Amendola on drums and electronics. The set was a celebration of their recent release, From Here To There, a concept where Goldberg plays with the notion of  the “bridge”.  These three all pray at the altar of Thelonius Monk who was a master of the bridge. They played their composition “Self Evident” which pulled from Monk’s “Evidence” and “Sad Trophy” which borrowed from “Epistrophy”. I learn that Goldberg was mentored by the soprano sax legend Steve Lacy, who also spent much of his career inhabiting the compositions of Monk. Ben looked like Sherman from Underdog fame, his decidedly latitudinal mouth was perfect for clarinet play. Sickafoose is a Tony and Grammy winner for his role in the Broadway production of Hadestown, a play conceived by Anais Mitchell who fronts the excellent indie-Americana outfit Bonny Light Horseman. I have seen Amendola on numerous occasions, usually in a duo setting with the groove guitarist Charle Hunter. Scott had a tray table of shakers, bells, and small cymbals that he scraped and shook on the kit. At his left was an electronics console which enabled him to loop and stretch the sound in an almost dub-wise echo fashion. These three had excellent telepathic interplay making for an enjoyable set.

Jamie Saft, Joe Morris, Herb Robertson ,Bobby Previte 11/15/24 Firehouse 12

 Leader Saft is a piano virtuoso. Local jazz legend Morris plays standup bass and electric guitar. Bobby Previte on drums and old guy Herb Robertson on trumpet and “stuff”. The second set is nearly sold out to get a glimpse of these talented multi-instrumentalists. I enter the space to see the stage crammed with instruments, the sounds promise to be many and varied. Saft is surrounded by keyboards, the F-12 Steinway, organ, Wurlitzer, and a harpsichord. Morris plays electric guitar and bowed and plucked bass. Previte’s kit was standard, but he played any and all surfaces to great effect  That leaves the old guy, Herb’s array of blowables was extensive: trumpet, mini-trumpet, slide whistle, telescoping vuvuzela, double playskool illuminated megaphones, clarinet, micro-french horn, and a selection of duck calls and kazoos. The set had two extended pieces where each player was able to shine and shade. Saft moved from keyboard to keyboard with the Wurlitzer and harpsichord showing exotic flourishes. Morris is lead wrangler for the Improv Now series at Real Art Ways, a monthly showcase of top tier jazz talent. Previte has backed Tom Waits and Elvis Costello and has been a downtown drumming presence for years. Saft  has a crazy CV as well. Bad Brains, Beastie Boys, film scores, and a list of A-list jazzbos too many to count. I’m not familiar with the old guy, but Saft introduces him as the “great” Herb Robertson. The music ebbed and flowed, from free jazz squiggling to churning rock throb. There was one point where electric guitar and Wurlitzer got into a rock and roll tussle and I saw every head in the audience start to bob. Saft has a ZZ Top beard and it’s a wonder he doesn’t  bump into it while playing. I learn that Jamie was raised an Orthodox Jew, makes sense as he is a regular fixture in the many John Zorn Tzadik label Jewish related projects. Had this one circled on my calendar for months, these four visionaries did not disappoint.

Abdullah Ibrahim 11/14/24 Shubert Theater

 South African piano legend was born Adolph Johannes Brand. If you are born in 1934, and your parents name you Adolph, you have a duty to ditch the moniker. He chooses Dollar Brand, more capitalist than fascist. The music is a fascinating blend of jazz and traditional Cape Town folk styles. In the early 60s, Brand moved to Europe where, and I can’t believe I get to write this, was “discovered” by one Duke Ellington. From Europe to the US, with approval from Duke, Brand fell in quickly with such forward thinkers as Don Cherry, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, and Pharoah Sanders. Brand is now in a perfect spot to play a role in the Black Power movement, convert to Islam and change his name again to Abdullah Ibrahim. Returning to South Africa, AI pens the tune Mannenberg, widely considered the theme song of the anti-apartheid movement. The body of work continues to grow with forays into free jazz and film scores. In the 90s, I stumble upon the soundtrack to the movie Mindiff, which beautifully encapsulates the Ibrahim sound. Happy to get a rare viewing of this storied nonagenarian jointly presented by the Shubert and the Schwarzman Center. On this evening, the format was trio with Cleave Guyton Jr. on flute, piccolo, and clarinet and Noah Jackson on bass and cello. The set leans on the recent Solotude record with some renditions of Trieste My Love, Blue Bolero, and Mindiff. The instrumentation gave a cinematic feel with cello and flute being perfect foils for Ibrahim’s surprisingly nimble runs. At 90, the set was brief but it felt like I was witnessing history.

Six Organs of Admittance, Tashi Dorji, Kath Bloom 11/10/24 Spaceland

 Just caught the last half tune from local legend Bloom. She is in the twilight of a cult career of the freak folk variety. Her early aughts records with downtown guitarist Loren Connors are fantastic. Her childlike vocal style allows for complex simple tunes, like the late great Daniel Johnston.

Bhutanese-born, Asheville NC resident, Dorji is an experimental guitarist. He takes the stage with an acoustic guitar and a briefcase of effects pedals and boxes at his feet. The music starts in a Fahey-esque style with repetitive picking and looping. The sound was wide and expansive, making me think of William Tyler or early Pat Metheny. He then switched to some angular avant garde picking layered on a looped backdrop. Growing up in Bhutan, Dorji relied on bootleg cassettes from China to learn the ways and means of western music. The effects pedals stretched the sound, he poked at one like it was a vending machine failing to give change. He puts the guitar down and picks up what looks like a book, made from wood. On the “cover” are 8-10 knobs that he twiddles along with the briefcase. The sound is not folk or jazz, but some kind of extraterrestrial mixture of the two. Dorji’s set was one long song that twisted and turned for 40 minutes. Look at his output on bandcamp and you’ll see a prolific collaborator  with truly original music.

Six Organs of Admittance is the guitarist Ben Chasny. Chasny has been making music since the 90s, much of which is solo or group settings on the fabulous Drag City label. He does time with Rangda, a psych folk supergroup with Chris Corsano and Sir Richard Bishop. Ben is an amazing picker and, like Dorji, his music is not easily categorized.  Relying less on effects, Chasny achieved his sound with open tuning and repetitive passages. His breathy psych vocals are secondary but necessary to give him his singular sound. Slim crowd for these three original artists.

Lankum w/ John Francis Flynn 11/8/24 The Warsaw Brooklyn NY

 So, I’m of proud Irish heritage. My father was from Newry, a sleepy border town in the North. My visits over the years have been lovely, packed with history, culture, and breathtaking landscapes. I’m even ok with the Irish basing their entire culinary palette on some dark and foamy liquid dispensed in pint glasses that requires a PhD to pour. What I have a problem with is Irish music. Not U2 or Van Morrison, but the reelery and jiggery that is traditional Irish music. Why then, would I drive to the hipster center of the universe to spend a night standing in a packed club with said hipsters to view Dublin, somewhat traditional, Irish group Lankum? The answer lies in the “somewhat”. Let’s start with opener Flynn. A big fella, Flynn hits the stage armed with a cup of tea, a pint of  Guinness, a drum machine, a guitar, and perhaps the driest wit this side of Stephen Wright. He plows through some originals, Tralee Jail, I Wish I Was in England ( which was definitely not true) while playing his electric guitar. The drum machine sounded hokey, but at 6’6” 280, I wasn’t about to tell him. He even played one tune on Uilleann pipes. Even with his dry delivery and unintelligible accent, he seemed genuinely excited to open for his longtime friends. Lankum takes the stage to a packed house. The group consists of brothers Ian and Daragh Lynch, Radie Peat,  Cormac MacDiarmada, and a mystery woman on drums for the tour. Ian played hurdy gurdy, concertina, pipes, and a small keyboard. Radie played accordion and harmonium. Cormac played fiddle while Daragh was on acoustic guitar. They all sang exquisite harmonies with female Radie being the standout. The song structure leaned traditional with typical Irish themes of drunkenness and suicide. The “somewhat” that I alluded to earlier is the addition of elements of drone and sonic dissonance coaxed from the traditional instruments. This dimension made the traditional modern, much to the delight of the Brooklyn crowd.  The set pulled from their three releases, starting with their signature tune Wild Rover,The New York Trader, Rocky Road to Dublin,  The Pride of Petravore, The Rocks of Palestine( complete with anti-colonialism rant by Ian), The Young People, On A Monday Morning, The Turn, Cold Old Fire, Bear Creek, and closed with the fantastic Go  Dig My Grave. The songs had a similar arc, starting soft and low then crescendoing to a core rattling racket. Like the Pogues who smashed Irish tradition with a punk ethos, Lankum’s mix of tradition with drone and noise creates something exciting and new.

Pamela Z CCAM 11/1/24

 Pamela Z is a woman of color, by that, I mean many colors.  An experimental musician, she uses voice and electronics as her color palette to compose elaborately layered washes of sound. The CCAM (Center for Collaborative Arts and Media at Yale) nerds have done it again. CCAMandant in chief RossWightman scours the outer reaches of the music art nexus for fascinating speakers and performers. PZ looks to be 60ish with oversized pink rimmed glasses, black gauzy attire, a rapunzelesque tangle of braids. Her boots look like they were fashioned on Argus 4, in the Shamwow galaxy. Wightman started with some questions. We learn that Z watered the seeds of avant garde while working at a college radio station in Boulder. Moving to the west coast and starting as a singer songwriter, she quickly realized that what was on her turntable was not what she was performing in clubs. A couple of analog delay pedals, and she was off to the races. Since the late 80s, PZ has circled the globe occupying countless residencies and performing live. Look on Spotify and there is little audioprint for this artist, that is due to the nature of her work best experienced live or as an installation. She took the stage armed with a laptop and two effects “boxes”. The smaller one emitted percussive sounds while the larger one spewed tones and word fragments. She used her hands to wave at these boxes to thereminic effect. The first piece had Z looping herself counting in different languages, stretched and magnified, and funneled through the top tier CCAM soundsystem, it felt like a hundred Zs counting in sensurround. The next piece had her typing a letter to her pen pal, with the percussion box acting as a Smith Corona complete with the carriage return ding. Next up she struck some tuning forks and smushed some bubble wrap into the looper. When replayed upon itself ad infinitum, the sound was deafening as if we were sitting inside a crackling fire. She then pulled out a keyboard that made bird calls with different keys. She mimicked these calls with her voice and phased them backward with the canned sounds. The timing came into phase then moved back toward cacawphony. The final piece sounded like a conversation with a boyfriend, she looped her voice and his voice into submission. His cadence became a bass loop and she layered herself on top. At this point, I notice she has small boxes on each wrist that interact with the stationary boxes as she gestures that manifest in sound. Fascinating artist and fascinating show.

Josh Ritter 10/18/24 District Music Hall

 Cheerful, slightly autistic Idahoan Ritter is a singer songwriter’s singer songwriter. Rolled into a renovated DMH for a Friday night. Refinished interior with removable seats, the Hall is morphing into a go-to midsize venue with good acoustics and sight lines. I’ve seen Ritter several times, at SCSU with Jamie Cullum, at some church in Westport with his female companion of the moment, on a double bill with The Low Anthem at Toads, his hyper-bubbliness was historically off-putting for me. On this evening, I was able to get a fuller picture as to the nature of his internal ecstasy IV. Autistic has entered my observations, his speech gets ahead of himself, his effusive praise for his band mates ( that “put up” with his style) is not off-putting, but endearing when viewed in this light. Makes sense when you read that Ritter gave up neuroscience in favor of music. For twenty years he has made solid recordings packed with thoughtful lyrics and deft song craft. On this evening he is joined by piano/accordionist and lead guitar/pedal steel. Ritter stayed with acoustic guitar, his wide-eyed intersong banter further supported my “on the spectrum” claim. The set pulled from all aspects of his career including a recent Jason Isbell produced slab recorded in New Orleans. Ritter wore a pink floral suit that looked like it was fashioned from upholstery ripped from a south Florida loveseat. Josh told a story about his Idaho homestead which he purchased because it had a lo-fi subterranean writing room. The near capacity crowd was rapt and constant touring has snowballed a decent fan base. Closed with his signature hit “Kathleen” that had most audience members belting out the anthemic lyrics.

Gong 10/14/24 Spaceland

 Flying teapots, Electric Camembert, Pothead Pixies! What is this, some kind of French LSD cult? Well kind of. Welcome to another edition of progtastic fall of 2024. In 1967, Australian singer Daevid Allen was a member of the British psychedelic rock band Soft Machine and was denied re- entry to the UK after his visa expired. ( see September’s post on the current lineup of the Softs) Setting up camp in Paris, Allen and his partner Gilli Smyth established the first incarnation of the troupe that would become Gong. Allen’s wacky drug addled take on the band offered a whimsical fairy-induced output of “space-rock”. They accumulated personnel who signed on to the vision of Allen. Like Sun Ra’s Arkestra or George Clinton’s P Funk Allstars, Gong were an interplanetary happening that were theatrical as well as musical. Allen passed in 2015, but the notion of Gong endures. The current lineup boasts guitarist Fabio Golfetti, bassist Dave Sturt, sax/ clarinet player Ian East, drummer Cheb Nettles, and frontman singer guitarist Kavus Torabi. The crew touched down in Hamden for a lively set. My Guitar is a Spaceship, Kapital, All Clocks Reset, Rejoice! Tiny Galaxies, My Sawtooth Wake, Through Restless Seas I Come, Lunar Invocation, Master Builder, Choose Your Goddess, Insert Your Own Prophecy ( complete with taped Allen words from beyond the grave), and closed with You Can’t Kill Me. The band was tight, something that Allen probably eschewed in favor of mystical ethos. Gong did morph toward prog technical wizardry employing such axe-wielders as Steve Hillage and Allan Holdsworth. All musicians were talented and steered the spaceship. Torabi in particular was a sight, with his androgynous attire and poodle rocker hair, he looked like a lost member of The Romantics, the one that went behind the bowling alley and ran into 20 hits of blotter and never came back. I am amazed these bands are carrying the torch and happy they include the New Haven market as a tour stop.

Carl Stone 9/28/24 Wesleyan

 Philip Glass? Yes. Brian Eno? Sure. Carl Stone? Well, no. That is unfortunate because of his place in the history of sampling and computer music. Stone studied under Morton Subotnick at CalArts in the 70s and started sampling and computer collaging music at roughly the same time as Grandmaster Flash.  Instead of turntables and scratching, Stone used an exacto knife and tape splicing to sample music and field recordings for his product. The storied California new music scene is the birthplace of the cream of avant garde composers, Terry Riley, Fred Frith, Pauline Oliveiros just to name a few. Stone collaborated and rubbed elbows with many of these music philosophers. His body of work has been under the radar until recent illumination by the great Unseen Worlds record label. Compilations of his decades of work starting with “explorations on the Macintosh” sounds comically outdated today. His recent anagrammatic release, Stolen Car has been embraced by hipster culture. Happy then for a rare concert viewing, as Carl spends most of his time in Japan. The show was supposed to happen at Wesleyan’s Crowell Hall, but was moved to the gamelan garage known as the World Music Hall. The uncomfortable subterranean cement igloo WMH was better suited for the slim crowd, but not for my 60 year old tailbone. The music is challenging and the introduction stated that the pieces were new. In concert, there is not much to view. A 70ish white guy dressed in black armed with a computer, an iPad and a card table does not portend for a stunning visual. The songs were compact with the samples difficult to discern. Metallic whooshes, sped up and slowed down splicing were present in each “song”. One tune sounded like a cement mixer full of teletubbies, another had a chopped and screwed Strangers in the Night. I was anxious to hear Stone talk about the evolution of technology on his craft, I mean can’t he just ask AI to spit out what a cement mixer of teletubbies would sound like? Like many polymaths, talking was not in the cards. The audience was left to imagine the source and process of this sound. While I didn’t hear “Paul is Dead”, I was able to be affected by these strange sounds. If Carl was Stoned, and spending his formative years within waft distance from Humboldt county it was likely, his next record could be Coastal Nerd, anagrammatically speaking.

Steve Gunn w/ Geologist 9/26/24 Spaceland

 Glad to have caught a bit from opener Geologist. He is the beatmeister for the freak jam outfit Animal Collective. Legend has it the name came from a misrepresentation of his college major or possibly the headlamp he uses while trying to navigate his console on a darkened stage. This show was held in the intimate front room, so personal lighting was not an issue. Geologist had a table with effects and sequencers and a hurdy gurdy. The hurdy gurdy is an unusual instrument for the beats scene. A crank, some strings, some keys, dampening mechanisms and a boat shaped hollow body that he had strapped to his waist. He looked like a cotton candy seller at the ballpark. The sound leaned middle eastern, with the addition of a backbeat made for a trancey exotic set. After the show, I chatted with Geologist wondering if the instrument was homemade, a soap-box-derby-hurdy-gurdy if you will. He said that some guy in France was responsible.

Steve Gunn is one of the best musicians you’ve never heard of. A guitarist from Philly now based in Brooklyn, Steve has been making varied and excellent music for years. Originally drone and instrumental, he has recently strayed into singer songwriter territory. 2019’s The Unseen In Between is a great starting place for the uninitiated. He hit the stage armed with a couple of acoustics, some effects pedals, and a small fender amp. A compact setup that makes travel and stage management easy, there was no lack of sound coming from the stage. Steve had one effect pedal that could only be described as a Day In The Life box that sounded like an 80 piece orchestra tripping upstairs when pressed. The songs and lyrics seem simple but reveal complexity when viewed live. Steve seems to be on the spectrum, and I mean that in the most complimentary way, he seemed to autistically waltz while playing, bending toward the fender to stretch and enhance notes. The setlist had some gems, Way Out Weather from the 2014 release and some cuts from the recent Other You. He played one unreleased number about a chance meeting with a musician friend on the early morning streets of Auckland. Fantastic cover of the Velvets I’ll Be Your Mirror. While Steve might not have much in common with Nico, the original vocalist, his fractured croon has similar qualities to the original. While I’m happy to go on having Steve be my quasi-personal troubadour, it would make sense for y’all to get your head out of the sand and support him when he comes your way. Better yet, keep your head in the sand, find Steve on your YouTube channel and prepare to be mesmerized by this truly original musician.

Weird of Mouth 9/20/24 Firehouse 12

 Was able make it to the fall inaugural voyage of the Firehouse 12 series. This group was a trio with Craig Taborn on piano, Ches Smith on drums, and Mette Rasmussen on alto sax. The room was well attended (although this free jazz blowout had some neophytes slinking toward the exit). Taborn is a frequent flyer at F-12 and I think he enjoys sitting down in front of the monstrous Cadillac Steinway that offers such a great sound. The chameleonic Smith has been lauded here many times. Last years Haitian group, supporting guitarists Will Bernard or Mary Halvorson, Ches square pegs himself into many a round hole. His lanky drumming style allows him to effortlessly play complex runs. Piano and drums were necessary foils to the alto force Rasmussen. Danish born, but now based in Trondheim Norway, Mette is certainly a young lioness. She has played with a wide variety of jazz luminaries and does time in the legendary Fire! Orchestra. She squeaked and squawked like Peter Brotzmann and then played lyrical passages like Sonny Rollins. Not sure where  the Weird of mouth moniker came from, certainly Smiths facial expressions were unusual, but the weird mouth goes to Rasmussen. She coaxed many sounds, screeching staccatos and repetitive blasts gave this challenging music a trance-like quality.

Soft Machine 9/20/24 Small Batch Cellars, North Haven

 Progtastic fall is here and what better way to start than an “early bird special” held in a winery garage on a dead end street in North Haven. The promoter’s website listed doors at 5, show at 6 which seems like a blue hair time slot for this pillar of prog-Jazz. It’s been 50 years since the primordial ooze of the Canterbury scene birthed Soft Machine. If John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers was the teething ground of British blues rock and rollers, Soft Machine served the same purpose for the British prog-jazz movement. Started by Daevid Allen, Mike Ratledge, Robert Wyatt, Kevin Ayers, and Larry Nowlin, all luminaries of the form, SM pioneered psych-prog jazz like no other. Members over the years include Allan Holdsworth, Jack Bruce, Hugh Hopper, Elton Dean, even Andy Summers was a member for a spell. The music comes with extended song forms, instrumental jams with periods of jazz improv dipped in psychedelia. Robert Wyatt famously quipped that the Softs extended song structure is a deliberate attempt to reduce the audience’s ability to boo. The current lineup consists of long time member John Etheridge on guitar, Theo Travis on soprano, alto saxes, and flute, Fred Thelonious Baker on bass, and Asaf Sirkus on drums. The setlist is kind of irrelevant since there are virtually no hits from this band but some tunes from the Etheridge era (late 70s to the present) were performed: Burden of Proof, TheTale of the Taliesin, Tarabos, The Visitor at the Window, Kings and Queens.  They did a great version of the Kevin Ayer’s tune Joy of a Toy, which Etheridge stated was written in the unlikely prog chord of D major. The band was limber with each member taking extended solos. Etheridge, the elder statesman, was equally comfortable playing mind numbing leads or lyrical passages. Travis could jive and wail or switch to flute. Some tunes with flute had a 60s soundtrack feel. Sirkus plays in other bands and his muscular style powered the proceedings. Baker’s bass throb moved toward krautrock. I heard Mahavishnu, Red era King Crimson, even some Pink Floyd touches. The influence of this band cannot be understated, they opened for Hendrix on multiple tours, they played backup on Syd Barrett’s solo work, and have been a revolving door for creative musicians. I enjoyed this early bird special, may I recommend the patty-face-melt with a side of noodles.

Eggy 9/12/24 Hartford Live

 The jam lingers on at the HL series. Eggy carries the jam torch lit by guitarist’s Jake Brownsteins father Mark in his seminal jamtronica outfit The Disco Biscuits. The Biscuits were a tri-state area force that fused the extended freak outs of jam with the electronic wizardry of house. It allowed the tie-dye and corduroy crowd a chance to get down without getting laughed out of da clerb. They held these upstate NY forest ragers called Camp Bisco. Imagine, then, being a 6-12 year old Jake backstage at one of these things, god knows what he heard and witnessed. Seems natural to find a crew, hone your chops, and follow the path. Fast forward to 2024 where Eggy plays two solid sets behind the Old Statehouse. First set was tame and ballady but got some heads bobbing. The flow of these shows is critical to the concert experience. You can’t start with a face-melter and then sing Color My World (they did not do this). Fact is, Eggy could have. Talented quartet has Brownstein joined by bass, drums, and keys. They all sang, but drummer did the majority. Set two was where Eggy cooked: Smile , Remind Me, A Moments Notice,  Shallow Rivers, Southern Cross (CSN), Wayless One, One Stop Shop, Atomic Age, Must Come Down, encored with an extended Tom Corn Walker. Good crowd and perfect weather.

CT Folkfest 9/7/24 Edgerton Park

 The CT Folkfest is underwater. Not figuratively, but literally. Back in the day, the Doppler was a Gomer Pylish Hilton Kaderli predicting a “gulleywhomper “ of a storm happening sometime between May and March. In today’s world,  when the Doppler says it’s gonna rain at 5pm, it pretty much rains at 5. So what to do about a lineup that gets cooking at 5? Go at 5 and hope Kaderli is driving the low pressure system. We know how this ends, show up at 5, see a few tunes by 83  year old folk royalty Tom Rush, who gets flooded from the stage by said gulleywhomper. I mean it rained sideways. We took shelter in the beer tent before surrendering for the day. This festival has some great memories for me: Steve Earle,  Mary Gauthier and Greg Brown with recent highlights of Donna the Buffalo, Maria Muldaur, and Oliver Wood. It’s sad to report that today’s headliner Leyla McCalla and warmup act Kaleta and the Super Yamba Band were scratched due to rain. Kaleta has lineage to the afrobeat progenitor Fela. Ive seen him a couple of times and it was truly enjoyable. Don’t know much of McCalla, but she’s billed as a Haitian guitarist, cellist, activist. We can only imagine how this show would have been because Mother Nature had other plans. It’s doubly sad to realize that climate change has affected our way of talking about the weather. Instead of “April showers bring May flowers”, we are left with “September deluge brings beer tent refuge”, which just seems wrong on so many levels.

Max Creek 9/5/24 Hartford Live

 “ Bring out yer dead! Bring out yer dead!” Who can forget Eric Idle’s Monty Python scene. That movie line easily applies to a Max Creek show. Starting as a Connecticut based Grateful Dead cover band some 50 years ago, local hippies have been Creekin since way back. The business model is simple: get a somewhat reliable vehicle, learn some Dead songs, and play every bake sale, block party, and backyard in the tri-state area……for 50 years! A friend who is my vintage stated that he has seen Max Creek over 100 times, I believe it. Being in the business that long allows one to hone their chops and MC has morphed into a regional jam juggernaut with some excellent originals that dot their tease-heavy set. I arrive 630ish to see the band already on their journey. They play till 930 without a set break, a 3 hour tour if you will, you heard right, a three hour tour. The cast and crew were all there, Skipper and Gilligan natch, Ginger and the Howells were dressed in their finest tie-dye finerie, the Professor and Maryanne, well you get the picture. The nerds at setlist.com must have been smoking a big fatty because their call seemed to have some gaps. Emotional Railroad, Feelin Alright, Angel of My Mind, Jones, Gone at Last, Brown Water,  Wild Side, Something is Forming, Yes We Can Can,, Drums,  Same Things, Blood Red Roses. I know I heard Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes and Magic Carpet Ride in addition to Grateful Dead licks but who’s counting. In order to remain a band for 50 years, there must be some core chemistry. The original 3 of Scott Murawski on guitar, Mark Mercier on keys, and John Rider on bass are joined by current percussion duo Bill Carbone and Jamemurrell Stanley who weren’t even born when the Creek was founded. I love Hartford Live, and thanks to the Infinity Hall folks for making it happen. They even have a sense of humor. On the lawn near our group a large “ no smoking section “ sandwich board was placed, it’s a Creek show for goodness sakes, the no smoking section was several blocks away.

Jake Blount 9/1/24 CT River and Roots Festival, Windsor

 Maiden voyage for this fest held on the Windsor town green. Nice mix of craft and food vendors with the local Dudleytown Brewery providing libations. Jake has been positively reviewed in this blog before. He is an ethnomusicologist, multi-instrumentalist master of string band music, deftly providing an educational tour of historical music from the American south. Playing fiddle and banjo, he is joined onstage by Nashville cat acoustic picker Ethan Hawkins. The pair roll through a nice selection of reels and jigs on the small stage. Ethan takes lead on the 50s novelty Plastic Jesus and Jake gives a history lesson for the traditional John Henry ( popularized as Spike Driver Blues by Mississippi John Hurt). I will never forget a previous viewing where Jake explained that the advent of the Sears Catalog supercharged the spread of the banjo diaspora. The focus was folk and roots music from the black and indigenous community, so it was no surprise that Jake got political in his tone. At this point, some elderly right wing crank stood up and gave the thumbs down while hastily bagging his chair to leave. Jake reiterated the thrust of this festival and the music he was playing as if to tell the guy “ what did you expect?” I guess if he launched into the classic “Talking Hillary Pizzagate Blues” the guy might have stuck around. Maybe he was late for the Ted Nugent / Kid Rock double bill down the street. Inexplicably ( which I later learn to be explicable), Jake and Ethan take a set break and yield the stage to local indigenous skronker Mixashawn Rozie and local poet and storyteller Robert Peters. Poems focused on racial justice and climate action were backed by Rozie’s sax, wooden flute, and the unusual berimbau. I’ve seen a lot of music over the years, but this was the first time viewing When Doves Cry and Johnny B. Goode delivered on the berimbau. Jake and Ethan did reappear for their final lap. Folk music has always championed civil rights, climate justice, and gender equality and it is refreshing to see young artists rally to the cause. The weather mostly held for a nice afternoon on a town green that was new to me. As for the cause? The answers my friend were blowing in the wind.

Lee Fields and the Expressions 8/24/24 Levitt Pavilion Westport

 Many towns have summertime shows at woodshop gazebos with Samyo  sound systems and underemptied port-olets. With acts like the Ghosts of Memphis or Bowzer’s (from Sha-na-na) cousin, not Westport. This town has a cool shopping area, riverwalk, modern library, ample parking, that houses a beautiful outdoor amphitheater known as the Levitt. Beautiful green space, excellent sound and sight lines, and high ticket backers make for a pleasant, and many times free concert experience. Martha goddamn Stewart is a resident. So it is no surprise that modern soul  wailer Lee Fields and his crack Daptone band The Expressions got a chance to tear it up. Septuagenarian Fields is a legit force. He says that he injured his knee and had to cut out twirls and splits. Lee’s bio has him mentoring other members of the Daptone label, Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley (both,sadly, no longer with us). The Brooklyn based label has made a name for themselves by coaxing musicians out of retirement, pairing them with seasoned hipster session musicians and getting them in front of audiences. Lee has had a renaissance with these guys. The band was trumpet, sax, drums, organ, electric bass, and guitar. Fields stature and movements had me thinking of James Brown, he even led the sax man around the stage with his microphone. The setlist included some gems: Never Be Another You, Wish You Were Here, Ladies, and closed with the chestnut Honey Dove. As an old black man soul singer, some of the subject matter and lyrics were cringeworthy in the Me-Too era. What was also startling, Lee Fields appeared to be the only black person in attendance. White organizers, white crowd, even the Expressions were Caucasian. Lee had the crowd involved by exhorting “are you happy?”, and”somebody scream!”. He even had the honkey hedge fund managers counting out the hours for his work around the clock song. I am thankful for the Levitt and the apparatus needed to wrangle these shows. Cultural appropriation? Modern day minstrelsy?  Straight up sexism? Or a down home soul stew? Maybe all of the above.

The Chameleons 8/9/24 Space Ballroom

 It’s been 40 years since the Manchester based post- punk legends released their opus Strange Times. The Geffen release was critically acclaimed but never received the popularity it deserved. A small clatch of pre-adult bandits masquerading as UConn students thought it would be a good idea to gobble some hallucinogens and drive through the woods to Providence, visit a rickety low ceilinged club to catch a glimpse of  The Chameleons lightning in a bottle. Fast (or maybe lurch) forward to 2024 and the magnetic front man vocalist bass player Mark Burgess along with original guitarist Reg came back to these shores for the reincarnation of Strange Times. With a younger crew of keys, drums, and second guitar the new Chameleons launched. The Ballroom was packed with grizzled punks and new appreciators, even some of those same bandits 40 years hence. The setlist was stellar: Mad Jack, Caution, Tears, Soul In Isolation ( snippets of The End, Be My Wife, Eleanor Rigby, and There Is a Light),  Swamp Thing, Time/ The End of Time, Seriocity, In Answer, Childhood, I’ll Remember, Ever After. The encores were jacked: Where Are You, In Shreds, Nostalgia,Second Skin ( snippet of Please, Please, Me), and Don’t Fall ( snippet of Cracked Actor). Burgess has not skipped a beat, older, paunchier, but the same level of magnetism. The crowd was rapt, I even spied my friends singing along with each tune. At one point, Mark spit a short rhyme “ time is not a thief in the night, time is an embezzler, time….is your enemy now.” Forty years is a long time, the LSD and Panama Red was replaced with Prevagen and Statins, the music on the other hand was decidedly the same. Lightning. One thing is for sure, “it is autumn before the winter”, and I experienced “ man’s last mad surge of youth”.

The New Pornographers w/ Gustav 8/8/24 Hartford Live

 Opening show for the 2024 HL series. Free shows put on behind the Old State House attempt to bring non-business people to town. Unfortunately a rainy day with the promise of nighttime drizzle kept the crowd to a minimum. First up was Brooklyn glammy punks Gustav. Female-centric band had four women and a B-52s-ish Fred Schneider on guitar and vocals. The ladies each had a Darth Vader button on their mics which moved the music toward creepy glam. When more than one hit this button, the music devolved into freak show territory. There is a reason that a Darth-Chucky-Jason-Freddy quartet was never a thing. Lead singer had a Richard Butler (Psychedelic Furs singer) complex in how she prowled the stage.

The New Pornographers were a treat to catch for free. Under the radar outfit from Vancouver is a launch pad for other popular indie artists. Warbler Neko Case was a member, Dan Bejar from Destroyer was a member. Founder Todd Fancy has taken those elements and continues the tradition. The group has been around since 2000, scoring some familiar power pop gems. Two female singers, guitar vocals, bass, and drums held the damp crowd. The Neko Case replacement was excellent and played some keys. Kudos to the Infinity Hall crew to keep this series going.

Newport Jazz Festival 8/3/24 Fort Adams Newport RI

 Came back for the Saturday of jazz. A breezy sunny day  was excellent for stage hopping.

Jonathan Blake’s Pentad: Caught the last bit of drummer Blake’s group. A young supergroup, the quintet had Immanuel Wilkins on alto, David Virelles on piano, Joel Ross on vibraphone, and Dezron Douglass on bass. These guys all have other jobs but we’re able to come together for a strong start to the Saturday.

Artemis: If the previous listing was a male supergroup, Artemis is the all female counterpart. Bandleader Renee Rosnes on piano, Ingrid Jensen on trumpet, Nicole Glover on sax, Noriko Ueda on bass, and Allison Miller on drums. Good set on the main stage with the added bonus of a Wayne Shorter medley complete with Footprints, one of my favorite tunes.

Anat Cohen Quartetinho: Clarinet master fronts the Quartetinho (little quartet). With Tal Mashiach on bass, Vitor Goncalves on piano and accordion, and percussionist James Shipp.  This set leaned on Latin numbers from Jobim and Gismonti. I love the sound of the jazz clarinet and Anat is usually the Downbeat poll winner for the year.

Terrace Martin:  LA multi- instrumentalist and producer took over the Quad stage. This guy has worked with Snoop Dogg and Herbie Hancock and has multiple Grammys for his work with Kendrick Lamar. Martin told a hysterical story of being on house arrest in LA. He couldn’t travel more than a mile from his house which was tracked by ankle monitor. He decided to go hang out with an old guy who danced at the entrance to the freeway. When he happened upon the man, he offered him a twenty. “ I got plenty of twenty’s, I don’t need yours”. Martin taken aback, said “ I just assumed you are dancing for money”. Turns out the man was a retired exec who danced to make people feel happy, there’s a lesson in there somewhere.

Samara Joy: We saw Samara last year at this fest. At 24, with three Grammys for her debut record, she has graduated to the main stage. Commanding stage presence for such a young artist, Samara seems comfortable in her own skin. 

Elvis Costello: Wait, why is he here? Just because his wife, Diana Krall, headlined the Saturday last year. Christian McBride knows how to assemble a lineup. Elvis is a musical chameleon who I have seen at hippie fests, folk fests, and now a jazz fest. I am a huge fan of his music and with a catalog of over 500 songs, some scrape the jazz vein. Elvis’ resume is too extensive to list. On this outing, Elvis has enlisted young jazz lion Donny McCaslin on sax. Donny worked with Bowie on his final Blackstar record. Unfortunately the sound man was snoozing during the opener Watching The Detectives. The dubbed out bass heavy version had a farting noise to accompany the tune. Elvis plodded forward with Almost Blue and some tunes from the excellent Wise Up Ghost record he did with the Roots. A story and a song from the Painted From Memory release he did with Burt Bacharach. He also  performed his somewhat obscure Shipbuilding, a song that was famously covered by Robert Wyatt. I guess when I reread this paragraph, Elvis is a logical choice to perform here.

Stanley Clarke and 4 ever: Late start for Stanley’s group on the small Harbor stage. Somebody didn’t do the math on Stanley’s popularity as the small stage was overly packed for his set. With a crew of young band members in tow, the legendary bass player toggled from electric to acoustic for a delicious set of fusion and standards. Paying homage to the bass virtuoso Charles Mingus, Stanley did an excellent reading of Goodbye Pork Pie Hat. The title cut from Clarke’s School Days record has arguably the best bass work of the 70s.

Thievery Corporation: The global dance electronic outfit helmed by Eric Hilton and Rob Garza got the crowd moving at the Quad stage. We saw this band in the spring and the fest-abbreviated set did not disappoint.The setup is the same, Garza on turntables and beats, Hilton on percussion, guitar, bass, and some brass were the backdrop to a rotating crew of singers. A sultry Brazilian woman shimmied in thigh high boots and what looked like a black table cloth fastened with one safety pin, a neo- soul young man who did vocals on my fave  The Richest Man In Babylon, a young Jamaican sounding woman, and a young male rapper all circled through the vocal duties. This band is fascinating with socially conscious themes pulsing through most tunes. This band has a polished show and I recommend seeing them if they come near you.

Dinner Party: Another supergroup to end the day. Terrace Martin on sax vocals and keys, Kamasi Washington on sax, and Robert Glasper on keys, beats and samples. I am not familiar with this group, but the familiar theme of mining the junction of jazz rap and soul  was on full display. Long day of music with excellent weather.

Newport Jazz Festival 8/2/24 Fort Adams Newport RI

 2024 marks the 70th anniversary of this storied event. Ever since “Jazz Night in America” host Christian McBride took the reins, the festival lineup has been varied, interesting, and ambitious. Let’s talk about the Friday:

Aneesa Strings: Young black woman on standup bass and vocals. Like a more grounded Esperanza Spalding, Aneesa sang and rapped to great effect. Good version of the Nina Simone chestnut My Baby Just Cares For Me.

Sun Ra Arkestra: The legendary, interplanetary troupe files on to the main stage. Sixteen strong, the band four saxes, three trumpets, two trombones, guitar, drummers, keys, and a female singer. To be accepted in this group, you must wear shiny, sequined, flowing costumes. The baritone sax player was dressed in full shiny King Tut headdress. While Sun Ra departed this astral plane years ago, the show must go on. I was hoping to get a glimpse of Sun Ra’s “veep”, Marshall Allen. Original member and saxman Allen turned 100 a few months back and still comes out to honk at the heavens. Another sax player and obvious bandleader stated that Marshall had “other business”. Dip in to the Sun Ra catalog and you are just as likely to get bossa nova as you are free jazz blowouts. The bandleader, also in his 70s, thought it would be a good idea to do multiple flips and breakdance during one tune. When he returned to his seat, I saw one elder sax player mouth “you crazy motherfucker” at him while he was laughing. Sun Ra’s indelible mark on jazz was a great start to this fest and a rousing rendition of Angels and Demons at Play put a big smile on my face.

Jaleel Shaw: Alto and soprano sax player Shaw has done time with the Roy Haynes Quartet. Shaw’s quartet featured some young lions; pianist Lawrence Fields, bassist Dezron Douglas, and drummer Joe Dyson Jr. The tunes were all originals and tasty.

Bill Frisell Four: Bill on guitar, Greg Tardy on saxes and clarinets, Gerald Clayton on piano, and Jonathan Blake on drums. Frisell seems to be on the spectrum, the far reaches of the jazz spectrum that is. His stop start delivery must be difficult for band members to follow. Like Monk, I’m sure the music resides very much in Bill’s head and the trick is to take the band along for the ride. What better way to start than a cover of Monk’s WellYou Needn’t. Having played with the likes of Bill Laswell and Ginger Baker, Frisell’s low key chameleonic presence is a joy to watch.

Brandee Younger: Jazz harpist Younger must  get tired of the Alice Coltrane comparisons. Younger has contributed to such distinguished artists  as Common, Lauryn Hill, and Pharoah Sanders. During the pandemic, she streamed some excellent music from her living room with partner bassist Dezron Douglas.

Galactic w/ Irma Thomas: New Orleans jam staple Galactic has been grooving audiences since the early aughts. Helmed by sax man Ben Ellman and drummer Stanton Moore, this group is the house band for the NOLA jazz fest.  The group recently purchased the legendary music venue Tipitina’s to have a home base and collaboration hub. On this tour, Galactic shares the bus with NOLA vocal legend Thomas. Irma is responsible for the Stones hit Time Is On My Side.Today’s set had them reach way back to their first record Crazyhorse Mongoose.

Corey Wong: Guitarist Wong is a repeat performer at the fest. Speedy runs and big band flash were dizzying. Wong pulls Dave Matthews sax man Jeff Coffin on stage for some jammy workouts. Wong’s nerdy presence is outshined by his fret work virtuosity.

Aja Monet: Sultry poetess Monet spit socially conscious verse over a jazzy backdrop. A power to the people vibe was on full display. One fella played this odd instrument that looked like an elongated brass bass clarinet, seemed like a pantooker or a jing-tingler from Whoville.

PJ Morton:  Grammy winning r and b big band fronted by singer Morton. PJ explains they recently came off a tour of Africa from Capetown to Cairo. Morton is musical director for Beyoncé’s sister Solange. The set effortlessly swayed from soul to gospel.

Andre 3000: Dre came to fame as creator of Outkast. Whenever the song Hey Ya came out, you could not go anywhere without hearing it. Fast forward an Uber famous decade and Andre decided to take a detour. Legend has it that Andre was playing his wooden flute in a park when some random old guy told him to take the music on the road. OK. I’m sure that Andre doing the Wordle will attract a million views, so playing a new age flute set on the Newport Jazz stage seems like a good fit.

Kenny Barron: Philly piano legend Barron took his trio to the harbor stage. Playing with such jazz luminaries as Roy Haynes, Lee Morgan, and Dizzy Gillespie, the resume is unparalleled. Nice standard jazz set with the piano, bass, and drums.

Brittany Howard: Alabama Shakes vocalist does a decidedly neo-soul set. A commanding stage presence coupled with a tight band delivers an excellent set. Songs of love and loss are expertly delivered. While I never fully latched on to the Shakes sound, I will do some digging on Howard’s solo work.

Kamasi Washington: Kamasi is a young torch bearer of the world of jazz. Bridging the jazz rap soul plexus he effortlessly blows life into all three. Travels with an LA based troupe of musicians, a modern big band of sorts. The music is sprawling and ambitious. Each Kamasi release is pored over by the jazz elders. Ricky Washington, Kamasi’s sax wailing father comes out for a family skronkfest. Exhausting but fulfilling day.

Grails w/ Soma 7/2/24 Spaceland

 Made the last tune for Soma. Looked like a Hare Krishna gathering onstage with six or seven musicians sitting. The instruments were Indian, tabla, drums, and various percussion that were played along with their chanting. Some of these musicians had flowing robes and were barefoot, not sure if I would take my chances on Spaceland’s floor hygiene.

Grails are a Portland OR based instrumental band. Like a lighter Sunn))) O or Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Grails offer a heady stew of sounds. Two guitars, synths/keys, drums, and bass ebbed and swelled the sound. Grails have been around for a decade or so and have  released a steady diet of under the  radar records. The drummer and bass player are definitely driving the train and both seem to be comfortable with some metal in their songs. One tune had the bass player moving to treated pedal steel that sounded so Floydian it was Obscured By Clouds. The bassist also played a Native American wooden flute to great effect. Closing tune was a delicious Krautrock workout with throbbing bass and motorik drumming. Instrumental music allows the band to get creative with song titles, chestnuts like “Lord I HateYour Day” and “Almost Grew My Hair” were some of the offerings. It’s hard not to think of this music as a film score, themes from an imaginary interplanetary western I think.

Dobet Gnahore 6/28/24 New Haven Green

 Second to last day of this year’s International Arts and Ideas festival featured Ivory Coast singer, dancer, and percussionist Gnahore. A striking stage presence, she had an outfit that was adorned with shells, crimson dyed hair that flowed down to her calves, and a pirate hat made from purple feathers. She danced and played a variety of bangables: shoulder drum, floor tom, gourds, shakers, and congas. While dancing and flailing around the drums, it connoted a sense of African ritual. She sang in French and closed each tune with a “merci beaucoup”. As colorful as she was, her band seemed to be a motley collection of Caucasian basement stoners from East Haven ,complete with backward baseball hats. Gnahore was in some serious shape and I was worried that her outfit or hair could send her tumbling. Relatively sparse crowd for a cool Friday night.

Green River Festival 6/22/24 Greenfield MA

 Annual pilgrimage to central Mass for a lo-fi smorgasbord of music known as the GRF. Set on the Franklin County Fairgrounds,  this fest prides itself on the eclectic mix of artists.

Pachyman: LA-based Puerto Rican nerd PM was first up on the second stage. Legend has it he collects odd musical and recording gear to produce an Esquivel meets Prince Far I stew of old school reggae riddims. On stage with bass and drums, PM played guitar, melodica, and effects. Dub, echo, reverb, the reggae beat were all on display.

Bonny Light Horseman: Alt country trio consisting of Anais Mitchell, Eric Johnson, and  Josh Kaufman. I’ve seen Mitchell in her early solo years at this fest. A confident singer and playwright, Anais is responsible for the Broadway hit Hadestown. Johnson was part of the excellent indie outfit the Fruitbats, and a capable vocal foil to Mitchell. Kaufman was lead guitar but they all played guitars or banjos. These artists have collaborated with the likes of The Shins, The War on Drugs, Bob Weir, Taylor Swift, Hiss Golden Messenger, and The Hold Steady. In your face vocals and vocal harmonies coupled with excellent songwriting made this group compelling.

Hannah Mohan: Not to be confused with Hannah Montana, Mohan is a local artist who I see listed on the newly re-opened club listing for The  Iron Horse in nearby Northampton. Indie rocking quartet, HM had a good local contingent of fans to cheer her on.

Joy Oladokun: Nashville singer and guitarist Oladokun was next on the main stage. Well crafted folk tunes seemed to get lost on the crowd. She has a couple of hits that are recognizable, and the comparison to Tracy Chapman both in looks and sound were apt.

Mdou Moctar: Hendrix from Niger, Moctar has been positively reviewed here before. As a lefty guitar wizard, Moctar whirled the crowd dervishly with his desert assault. Singing in his native tongue, Moctar seems to have developed a confident stage presence since my viewing a few years back. The Greenfield crowd grooved and appreciated this exotic artist.

S.G. Goodman: Western Kentucky twanger had a powerful multi octave vocal range. She was supported by an expert crew of country musicians including a beautiful pedal steel sound. She told a hysterical story about a goodie bag she received playing a Willie Nelson fest (readers can do the math here), and played an excellent set including a Waylon Jennings cover.

Fleet Foxes: Seattle based indie folk outfit Fleet Foxes closed the day on the main stage. This group has some Grammy nods and had excellent vocal harmony flourishes reminiscent of The Beach Boys or The Zombies. There seemed to be at least six musicians onstage and they jumped around to various instruments. Guitars, brass, percussion augmented the vocal harmony piece. They pulled Mitchell and Johnson (from BLH) on stage for a ballsy cover of Joni Mitchell’s Hejira.

Given the current state of the climate, we were happy to wait out a 1.5 inch deluge that soaked a few opening acts. The food, the company, and the music will keep me coming back to this under the radar but expertly arranged regional showcase.

Kevin Harris: Roots, Water, & Sunlight 6/17/24 Beinecke Library

 Another Arts and Ideas event billed as a “contemporary wind octet expedition through the expressions of James Baldwin”.  Kevin Harris seems to be a modern classical composer who conducted and played piano and synths. I couldn’t really see the octet, but I could hear French horn, trombone, trumpet, and sax and could see standup bass and drums. For those who have never been in this building, I’ll break it down. You enter across a courtyard behind Woolsey (now Schwarzman) Hall. The library houses Yale’s collection of rare books and manuscripts and current Juneteenth exhibition had a wealthy patrons collection of the writings of Frederick Douglass, James Baldwin, and the political cartoons of Oliver Harrington. When you enter the building, you see the permanent collection housed in a glassed-in inner sanctum that stretches from floor to ceiling. A glass silo allows one to see the spines of these ancient texts in a bibliobelisk of sorts. There are only ground floor windows, the mezzanine and upper floors are walled with opaque marble. Yes you read right, marble that allows diffuse light to enter based on the strength of the sun. I assume the marble adds a layer of protection against tome killing UV rays. The musicians were awkwardly placed on the mezzanine and 75 chairs were set nearby obscuring the view. Fortunately the sound was not obscured. The three movements had passages from Baldwin and others, some taped gospel numbers that stretched the music of the octet. It reminded me of the jazzy Blood On The Fields production by Wynton Marsalis back in the 90s. Standing room only for this unusual and challenging music.

The Ebony Hillbillies w/Cecilia 6/16/24 New Haven Green

 First Sunday of the International Festival of Arts and Ideas Started with Québécois trio Cecilia. Accordion, fiddle, and a young woman on organ. Celtic fusion with a French twist, these three were built for speed. The instrumentation allowed for fluid segues among ethnicities. They played an Edith Piaf tune at breakneck speed.

The Ebony Hillbillies are an NYC group of  pickers that appeared to be in their 70s. They started with a Native American invocation to “honor their elders”. Two female singers and a motley crew of guitar, banjo, bass, washboard gave an authentic string band sound. Good version of the Howling Wolf classic, Spoonful.

Will Bernard’s Pond Life 6/7/24 Firehouse 12

 Final offering of the Firehouse spring schedule did not disappoint. Pond Life is a trio with Bernard on guitar, Chris Lightcap on bass, and the omnipresent Ches Smith on drums. The original incarnation of this group included Tim Berne on sax. Bernard’s C.V. has him appearing on releases by Don Cherry and Galactic. In the 90s he formed the Bay Area guitar supergroup T.J.Kirk with Charlie Hunter. Playing the music of Thelonious Monk, James Brown, and Roland Kirk, T.J. embodied Will and Charlie’s reverence for the masters in a groove setting. Lightcap is a stalwart downtown presence and seemed unfazed by the pyrotechnics of the guitar and drum interplay. Ches Smith is the best drummer you’ve never heard of. He is tireless, appearing in countless groups spanning free improv to jammy groove settings. His Haitian percussion group, positively reviewed here last year, had him driving the train behind 10 musicians. Happy then, to be sitting right in front of the kit for a close view of this amazing drummer. They played some cuts from the Pond Life release and some older tunes from a Bernard/Smith collab from 2004. Smith seems to be in his 30s which would make him a teenager in 04. The beauty of this group is their telepathic ability to shift from hard driving groove to free jazz at the drop of a hat. Speaking of hats, Will’s star-studded Medicine Hat release from the late 90s still brings me joy. Can’t wait for the fall lineup to come out.

Adam Rudolph’s Sunrise Quartet 5/24/24 Firehouse 12

 Made it to the second set of Adam’s group at the Firehouse. Rudolph on handrumset, electronic processing, thumb pianos, mouth bow, gongs, and percussion; Alexis Marcelo- piano, electric keyboards, kudu horn, percussion; Kaoru Watanabe- taiko, Japanese percussion, noh kan and fue flutes, electric koto and processing; Stephen Haynes- cornets, flugelhorns, trumpet, conch shells, didgeridoos, percussion. Yes, that is certainly a percussive army, but Rudolph and company have a way of weaving these disparate instruments into a sonic tapestry that is best viewed live. The songs ebbed and flowed with the instruments. Arriving early, I listened to Rudolph and Haynes chatting with local DJ and world music aficionado Richard Hill. They were speaking of their schooling and experiences as globetrotting students of trance percussion, Gnawa, Morocco, the Master musicians of Joujouka, I was getting dizzy trying to keep up. Rudolph looks like a beatnik Al Pacino , easily moving from percussion to laptop. Marcelo was the glue, providing the backdrop for the others to work. Watanabe’s instruments were so unusual, at one point he raised a metal pole with three rings dangling from the top and thumped the ground with it sounding like some demented Asian Jacob Marley. Haynes has been positively reviewed in this blog before, usually as a leader, he takes a team player approach in the Sunrise quartet. The trumpet and flugel are augmented with a cigar box didg that sounded like insect buzzing. The music on view was strange and beautiful, the bonus of seeing it live capped a wonderful set.

Membra 5/24/24 Neverending Books

 Membra is the experimental pop songwriting project of Brooklyn-based composer, sound designer, and filmmaker Ned Porter. Found sounds and tape loops are stretched beyond recognition and transformed into left field pop musings.Small crowd for a Friday at the bookstore watched while Ned had some technical difficulties plying his craft. The music on this evening was supposed to be a triple bill with the headline musician,  Nahadoth. Nahadoth is a project of the American Dungeon Synth revival created by local composer, keyboardist, and accordionist Adam Matlock. Adam has been positively reviewed in this blog as part of his many musical personas. Unfortunately, due to the delay in Membra’s set, Matlock had little time to showcase his music. I will have to keep tabs on the Dungeon Synth revival to get a better view of Adam’s music in this genre.

John Hiatt 5/23/24 Infinity Hall Hartford

 Had tickets to see John Hiatt last fall but he fell while hiking and had to cancel the tour. A concussion and an ankle break in your 70s is not an easy road back. Glad he made the effort and was in rare form at Infinity. This theater is comfortable with good acoustics and sight lines. Hiatt is like a a well worn leather coat, comfortable, familiar, and consistent. Hiatt has been making excellent records at a pretty regular clip since the mid 70s. The extensive catalog is peppered with hits and the hiking injury seemed to have no aftershocks on this troubadour. The setlist delivered: My Old Friend, All The Lilacs In Ohio, Trudy and Dave, Crossing Muddy Waters, The Tiki Bar is Open, Tennessee Plates, Master of Disaster, Seven Little Indians, Weightless In My Arms, The Open Road, Real Fine Love, Lift Up EveryStone,  Drive South, Perfectly Good Guitar, Through Your Hands, Feels Like Rain, Cry Love, Memphis In The Meantime, Thing Called Love, Encored with Riding With The King and Have a Little Faith in Me. Hiatt’s Crossing Muddy Water release from 2000 is a near perfect record and was a soundtrack to my daughter’s young years. The songwriting is impeccable, spinning rust belt tales of everyday lives. He told the story of Seven Little Indians,  a song about his father telling tales to a young John and his six siblings. The music of John Hiatt is entirely relatable and made for an excellent evening of tunes.

Jessica Pavone String Trio w/ Dave Scanlon 5/20/24 Neverending Books

 Nice listing for the book store that is dirty. NEB has ditched the mismatched chairs in favor of 20 black plastic beauties. Don’t worry, the ass- swallowing couch from the 70s still props up the back of the room. When I arrive, JP3 is already playing. Pavone and two other violists pluck and bow to great effect. The viola is an expressive instrument, Pavone can easily switch from improv to chamber sounding pieces. Jessica has had an under the radar NYC career dotted with excellent collaborations with the likes of Mary Halvorson and Tomas Fujiwara. She is also a continual presence on the outre marathons of Anthony Braxton. I also notice she guests on a Vampire Weekend record, I guess you never know when a viola is called for. Unfortunately I only catch the second half of the set. Message to bookers and venues, please list the acts and timing in the actual order delivered. I stick around for the apparent headliner Dave Scanlon, a frail balding hipster that I chat with on the way to the bathroom. Dave plays a treated guitar and sing-speaks while blowing a few notes from a harmonica. He states that the one long form piece is about sharks around Greenland. The poetry is obtuse but holds the story line. The guitar work moves from gentle strums to Marc Ribot squalls. Dave has a weird capo on the neck that looks like a wooden leaf press.The harmonica is used to play a single note while Dave turns the sheet music pages and sounds like a distant mosquito. Upon further digging, I learn that Dave is associated with John Zorn’s Tzadik label and is a frequent flyer at the Stone in NYC. Unhappy that I missed most of the set of my intended outing, but happy that I got to view someone new.

NusMusWes24 Festival, Wesleyan 5/11/24

 What if we had a festival and nobody came? And nobody manned the exhibits, some exhibits fail to materialize, had no written descriptions of said exhibits, and had a stunning lack of administerial oversight? Well that was the Saturday morning leg of this festival which was designed to celebrate the modern composition luminaries that have graced its uber-liberal hallowed halls. John Cage, Alvin Lucier, and Anthony Braxton are top tier musical theorists that have left an indelible mark on what we know as “music”. The CFA website listed three musical installations set up on campus that were open from 8am-midnight. The first was a video project  “Saturn to Jupiter” by Brent Wetters, the next “For Alvin Lucier ( automated pipe organ) by Brian Parks, and the third was “Deer Tick: Solar Sounders on the Lawn” by Daniel Fishkin. I go in the Ring Family Auditorium at 11am to view S to J, only to find the theater empty. The computer on the front console beckoned judging from the “start” screen on the big screen. As the only human in this subterranean sharp edged concrete igloo of a structure, I press start. The screen goes blue, then asks for my username and password. Cage couldn’t have drawn it up better! As I go to leave, the morning handler stops in and says he will reboot. While he reconfigures, I trek to Memorial Chapel to view the pipe organ. Tiptoeing through the Gaza protest encampment then passed a lacrosse match to enter the beautiful, but once again human-less, venue, I am greeted, personally, by a self propelled pipe organ emitting a low level hum. On the altar, this antiquated musical keyboard had a variety of labeled knobs and dials. With no human or written descriptors, one was left to wonder Luciers attachment to the piece. On the way back to the auditorium to see if my one music nerd acquaintance had righted the ship, I pass by the quad where the solar sounders should be. Again, no human, but I do see several speakers and a couple of expensive looking microphones lurking furtively in the perfectly manicured shrubbery. Was I supposed to pinch the mics and sell them on eBay? Again, not sure because of the now annoying lack of people. The video was restored and the Saturn to Jupiter piece was a series of short films and stills taken on a frozen path from Winnipeg to the North Pole. Eerie frozen landscapes and nature shots were punctuated by same of wind battered seemingly abandoned industrial outposts. The sound was a mixture of of boots crunching on very cold snow, wind, and some distant, largely unintelligible conversation snippets. Imagine, there was more human contact in the video of the tundra than from the festival itself. The contradictions on my walk were striking, lacrosse match vs. the Gaza encampment; the skull and bones buildings vs. the submerged cubist igloo and let’s not forget modern music festival vs. me. As I was leaving the auditorium, I shared a laugh with a Spanish couple, the only other patrons of this part of the fest. I tell them that somewhere in heaven, John Cage is smiling at my attempt to find sound…..or not.

The Decemberists w/ Ratboys 5/4/24 College Street Music Hall

Caught the last few tunes from Chicago based rockers Ratboys. While not entirely male, lead Ratboy  and singer was decidedly female. Standard quartet with bass, drums and lead guitar joined the lead Ratgirl. Jammy rockers, Ratboys did a good job of warming the near capacity crowd for a Saturday.

The Decemberists have been positively reviewed in this blog before. Archaeological wordsmiths from Portland OR, this band has been making quality music for years. The brainchild of lead singer Colin Meloy, they straddle the lines between indie-pop-quirky Americana. The lyrics are often dark with tales of murder and intrigue from bygone eras. I mean who uses petticoat, or “birthed me down a dry ravine” in a song lyric? Like the career arc of Mofro (reviewed a few weeks back), the Decemberists discography is a steady barrage of timely quality releases with gems to be polished on each record. Assisting Meloy are a crew of multi-instrumentalists that shape the sound. Bassist Nate Query moved from electric to acoustic standup with ease. Accordionist Jenny Conlee also played keys on certain tunes. Chris Funk played a variety of brass instruments, starting out on a French horn flugel combo. Lead guitar moved to occasional banjo, and there was a young female singer that helped the guy-girl nature of some tunes. The setlist was culled from most releases :All I Want is You, Shankill Butchers, The Bachelor and the Bride, Don’t Carry it All, (new tune) Burial Ground,  The Crane Wife, Traveling On, The WantingComes In Waves ( from the fabulous Hazards of Love record), Long White Veil, Make You Better, Severed, 16 Military Wives. Closed with the apt I Was Meant For The Stage and encored with the new Joan In The Garden. Go to Spotify and preview this tune, it ends  with a 14 minute drone scrawl of feedback that gets the listener wondering what is happening. Erudite pranksters, one can only think that the tune is a message from Meloy to someone. Always enjoyable to see what these smarty pants are up to.

Bill Fontana 4/19/24 CCAM Studio Yale

 First time at the CCAM (Center for Collaborative Arts and Media) clubhouse in a brutalist enclave behind the Yale Rep Theater. The CCAM nerds have done it again bringing octogenarian soundscape sculptor Fontana in for an installation and Q and A. He spoke of his vast experiences recording the natural and human world. Commissioned by a wealthy patron to accessorize his Frisco area estate, Fontana buried 10 speaker systems around the property that pulsed various frequency loops of water bodies that he recorded around the world. Niagara Falls, the Nile et al had a subliminal audio effect to those strolling the grounds. Multiple microphone placements on buildings in the city of Cologne gave rise to a long form drone from the city piece. Synthesized fog horn bellows from SF bay. Magnified tree noises from a Sequoia forest. My favorite, positioning himself in an Australian rain forest in the 70s to witness a total eclipse away from people but in line with the eclipse path. He said that the bird call pattern went from the normal, seemingly call and response mode, to simultaneous squawks as the eclipse approached, to silence during the event, and then reversed order back to normal. The piece today was Silent Echoes: Notre Dame. To commemorate the fifth anniversary ( to the day) of the Notre Dame fires, Fontana’s piece had multiple large scale video loops of the views from the 10 refurbished bell towers of the historic cathedral. He recorded and amplified the activity of the bells as they responded to the din of the city. He said the bells acted like big sonic ears, the result was a bell drone loop that changed when one walked through the darkened studio room at CCAM viewing the vertigo inducing video. I chatted with Fontana and wife, asking him how he got permission to be in all of these places, “perseverance “ his wife chimed, seemed that she dealt with the administrative part of his work. Another fascinating endeavor sponsored by well connected undergraduate art theory kids.

Joe Morris w/ William Parker 4/14/24 Real Art Ways Hartford

 Sunday afternoon show as part of Joe’s “Improv Now” series. These two master improvisers collide for four string based workouts. First tune has them on their home base instruments, that is Parker on acoustic bass and Morris on electric guitar. They said that they met in the 80s, and this long relationship manifests with a telepathic quality to their music.  Morris, with eyes closed, squiggled while Parker plucked and bowed, spending time in and around strings. Next offering had Parker on ngoni and Morris starting on ngoni-tar and then moved to the floor to bang on some percussion. The ngoni is a west African instrument with a dried gourd of a base, stretched animal skin (usually goat), a neck with several strings to be plucked. Parker said that he was reading poetry in a park in Brooklyn and was approached by the mystical Don Cherry, who befriended him and turned him on to the instrument. In a similar fashion, Morris received a package from Parker with a small jeli ngoni which he then fashioned into a ngoni guitar or ngoni-tar. The third tune had Parker on guimbri and Morris on a banjo and then switched to a banjuke ( for those keeping score, a banjo ukulele). Parker mumbled some wordless vocals to shade this one. Parker is a downtown kook, he had a pink knit cap with green dots that made him look like an avant garde strawberry. Morris had long straggly gray hair that looked like he stuck a fork in a light socket while prepping to teach his course on differential sonic equations. Joe has taught music theory at the New England Conservatory for years and has the look of a crazed intellectual. Parker announces that he is going to throw an ice cream party and that we are all invited, which seemed random, but coming from this renaissance man, anything is probable. The final offering had Morris on acoustic bass and Parker on shakuhachi ( Japanese longitudinal end blown flute) and some sort of metallic mini vuvuzela. Parker also sang a little “ death has died today, god is in tears, and the devil has a big old grin”. It was a treat to see these two old friends spending an afternoon, laughing at conventions. They are not constrained by musical norms,  normal musical instruments, or even the mode of delivery. Check Parker’s prolific Spotify presence and you are just as likely to hear an electronic piece as hearing him sing an indigenous ditty.

Nat Adderly Jr. 4/13/24 AFAM Cultural Center, Yale

 First time at the African-American Cultural Center at Yale, a hallowed hall sandwiched between the Yale Cabaret and the hippie enclave The Group W Bench. April brings May showers but also the Yale Undergraduate Jazz Collective’s annual weekend festival. The collective is a revolving cast of well-connected jazz nerds that put on several shows with top tier talent. Nat is an alum (‘77) and has a five star jazz pedigree. His father Senior and uncle Julian “Cannonball” are pillars of 60s and 70s Jazz. I’ve come to realize that cornet playing senior wrote the standard “Work Song”, one of the most copied songs in the jazz canon. Junior plays organ and assembled a quartet of bass, sax/flute, and drums.  As a connected jazz man and a degree from Yale, Nat has spent most of his time as musical director for Luther Vandross. Soul and R&B hits need to be arranged and scored, and Nat has the chops to serve up hits for his boss. The set was wide ranging, started with the Wayne Shorter composition Yes And No, then on to a rolling workout of Oliver Nelson’s Stolen Moments. Vandross tasked Nat to arrange Superstar by the Carpenters, which apparently was a huge hit despite having “no business being played on the radio at 10 minutes”.They played an uptempo version of the tune with flute standing in for the vocals. Next up is the Philly soul fave People Make The World Go Round with an excellent galloping bass backdrop. Final tune was You and I by Stevie Wonder. The world is full of musical siblings and often the level of success differs, I mean who can forget Thelonius’ lesser known brother Chip. Nat jr. has forged a career as a well connected musician, it was nice to see him cut loose in a familiar surrounding.

Marco Benevento w/ Ghost Funk Orchestra 4/10/24 Spaceland

 Happily caught the last few tunes from NYC-based opener GFO. A sprawling 9 piece, two guitars, bass drums, sax, trumpet, trombone, and two female vocalists had trouble fitting on stage. They reminded me of the heady nadir of local funkateers Deep Banana Blackout. Blistering trombone solo and sassy vocals could turn any gathering into a party. Seems like I review Marco on an annual basis, I’ve likened him to a keyboard playing Cheshire Cat, a benevolent drug thief, the list goes on. On this viewing, he seems like the kid who mastered 3 tier chess playing while you were struggling with beginners play. He plays multiple keys simultaneously, Korg, Moog, sometimes even banging on a Playskool model. He has dispensed with the tophat, the glow-rimmed spectacles, and other outfits in favor of his true self. Lightly bearded, long hair, he looked like Leon Russell up there. He is joined by the amazing Karina Rykman on bass and vocals and Chris Corsico on drums. Karina looks like Jan Brady as a whirling dervish on frenetic bass and vocals. Their recent release BarnBurner was recorded at Levon Helms barn in Woodstock and shows the live layout. Original compositions Greenpoint, Solid Gold, Let it Slide, At the Show, were sprinkled in with some stellar covers. In reverence to Levon, they played This Wheel’s On Fire, Pink Floyd’s Fearless with a bluesy Bennie and The Jets section. Marco spends most of his time in the preeminent Grateful Dead vehicle Joe Russo’s Almost Dead (JRAD) and Karina has her solo gigs opening for any and all jamband. I even spied Karina’s long blond hair flailing on the set of  Late Night with Seth Myers. Closed with a first run of Rock and Roll by the Velvet Underground with Karina doing her best Peppermint Patty vocals. Ended the night with Nilsson’s Jump Into The Fire. I was a pretty avid viewer of The Brady Bunch back in the day, I must have missed the episode where Leon Russell comes to the door and tells Mike and Carol that he is taking the middle lovely lady on the road.

Mofro 4/4/24 College Street Music Hall

 Self-proclaimed “swamp cracka”, JJ Grey is the singer and front man for the Jacksonville FL outfit Mofro. With no “hits”, Mofro follows the Wilco acumen of relentless touring and sticking to the script. In this case, the script is southern fried rock with a side of Memphis soul and lyrics steeped in environmental stewardship. I first jumped on the bandwagon in the early 2000s after viewing a memorable belting of Galactic-backed, rainstorm fueled Sympathy For The Devil. On this evening, Grey said his visits to New Haven started in the late 80s with stops at Toads and the ill-fated Moon ( on Whalley Ave). They’ve come a long way baby as evidenced by two new monster beautifully painted tourbuses. Decent crowd for a Thursday to get a couple hours of Mofro. The current band is Grey on harmonica, guitar, organ and vocals with bass, drums, percussion, lead guitar, organ, trumpet, sax/flute, and two female backing singers to round out the 10 piece. An affable front man with a confident stage presence, Grey inhabits soulful ballads and choogling rockers and seems genuinely glad to call and response with the ladies. Mofro has released a steady stream of music that has produced multiple singalongable chestnuts over the years. New songs from the recent Olustee record were peppered in. Solid renditions of Orange Blossoms, Lochloosa, On Fire, A Woman were right at home with new songs Top of The World , The Sea, and the cover tune Seminole Wind. Mofro was embraced by the jam crowd for his laid back approach and pro environment tunes and has forged a successful career spinning tales of cherishing the natural world.

Minibeast, Qween Kong, Rope Trick 3/29/24 Scottish Dave’s Pub, Clinton

 Scottish Dave’s Pub is a sleepy dive bar on a sleepy block on Rt 1. I locate a public parking lot and traverse the deserted beach town to hear a pulsing racket coming from the unassuming address. SDP looks exactly like the bar in the Simpsons. I enter, sidle up to the bar, and this worn haggis hand appears, “am Scottish Dave, ooh argh yew?” “Irish Andy” , I reply. Throughout the evening, I saw Scottish Dave, pour drinks, bus tables, offer free pizza, play the juke box, sell merch, fix a high hat stand, and introduce local band Qween Kong. At one point I tell him he’s like Macgyver of a freaky talent show. First band was the Philly duo Rope Trick. A psych rock duo comprised of Indrayudh Shome on guitar and vocals and Nathanael Totushek on drums. The music was tribal with a metal edge. Shome’s attack sounded like guitar and bass with his low strings fuzz faded. The sustain on the bass allowed him to metallically noodle on top. These two guys sounded like at least 4. Next up was local riot grrl outfit Qween Kong. Noisy punk trio of drums, bass, and guitar, these ladies drew some locals to inhabit the the dance pit down front. Sassy Asian woman on guitar and vocals spit some venom into their recent single “Like a Dog”. Minibeast is a 3 piece band comprised of Peter Prescott ( formerly of Mission of Burma and Volcano Suns) and the mind bending rhythm section of Keith Seidel on drums and Niels LaWhite on bass. A delicious mix of art rock and krautrock Prescott’s weirdness floats over the rhythmic churn. Using spoken word passages, keyboard loops and noise modulation, Minibeast sounds like a post punk modern version of Can. Part way through the set, Prescott’s guitar and pedal array loses sound. Frustrated with the stoppage, Prescott feverishly plugged and unplugged cords to regain the sound. In swoops Scottish Dave with a master cord to restore the chaos. The breakdown affected Prescott’s chi and obviously tempered the rest of the set. Glad to have made the trek for this unusual surreal event.

Lemon City Trio 3/19/24 The Lagniappe House, Miami FL

 Let’s start with Lagniappe. No, it’s not a scandic elkskin-clad hippie (that’s Laplander). Wiki defines lagniappe as “something given as a bonus, or extra gift”. With that in mind, the LHouse doesn’t disappoint. An awkward rhomboidal space set in the yuppy design district in Miami, this venue is nestled between the train tracks a u-store it and a dog hair straightening parlor. Upon entering, you pass through a modest sized living room with a ragtag assortment of velvet chairs and couches. On the wall is a glass front fridge chock full of meats and cheeses waiting to be selected for the staff to plate as charcuterie. Pass through this area and through the bar to get to a large open air (but with trees) patio to drink or nosh. The bartender says to approach the living room at 830 to claim a velvet throne for the free set of music. Lemon City is a Miami neighborhood, LCT is an organ, drums, and guitar groove outfit. These young men were weaned on Grant Green, Herbie Hancock and the Meters and delivered a powerful instrumental funk punch. Memorable rendition of Let The Music Take Your Mind. The event calendar shows a wide array of under the radar mainly southern hipsters plying their trade. The lagniappe is the music, an excellent bonus gift. Definitely beats a china-produced whistle in the bottom of a Cap’n Crunch box.

Chris Spedding 3/16/24 The Cellar on Treadwell

 Chris Spedding has had a storied but under the radar career. As a 79 year old Brit guitar slinger, Chris was in the room for many “birthplace” moments in rock and roll. He infamously turned down an invite to be in The Rolling Stones, he produced some early Sex Pistol sides, and has lent session wizardry to the likes of Brian Eno and Tom Waits. I even notice that he is currently sitting in on a reincarnation of the cult progfusion outfit Nucleus. On this evening, he is joined by Keith Lenten on bass, and Anton Fig on drums for a stroll down rock and roll memory lane. Fig kept time for the David Letterman band, so he is versed in the live setting. Spedding’s vocal style was like Mark Knopfler’s grandfather, British, witty, and slurry. The set was compact, as to be expected from someone his age. He performed a few of his “hits”, Motorbikin, and the chestnut Hurt By Love. They did a wonderfully screwed down NyQuil-paced Wild Thing. The show highlight was Chris showing off his chops mimicking guitar greats. Duane Allman, Pete Townsend, Hendrix, Santana, Clapton, Leslie West, George Harrison, you could tell he could literally play the phone book. I always relish the chance to view a building block of rock and roll history.

Thievery Corporation 3/13/24 Toads Place

 Seems like a decade since I’ve stepped foot in this legendary club. Toad’s fall from grace has relegated them to a purgatory of sophomoric glow light-jello shot- dance parties. Happy to see that Thievery Corporation decided to grace the stage. TC has been a fave of mine since the early oughts and has had a string of excellent global socially conscious riddims. Washington DC based, the groups core are Rob Garza on keys and beats and Eric Hilton on drums and percussion. On this evening, they are joined by guitar ( who also did time with electric sitar), leg hair shaking bass, and another drummer. The musicians formed a formidable backdrop for a parade of singers and rappers. First up was a young lady who looked like Elvira’s niece. She started with the excellent Heaven’s Gonna Burn Your Eyes. Next up was a young Pharrell looking dude, dapper with a derby hat, he had a soulful croon and did The Richest Man in Babylon and Amerimacka. The third singer was an African American woman who had an island vibe and toasted some reggae inflected rhymes. She wasn’t quite Sister Nancy, maybe Sister Nancy’s Sister. The next singer was a dreaded rapper( rapper with dreads?) who spit rhymes and prowled the stage. At one point Hilton took vocal duties for The Heart is a Lonely Hunter ( original vocals were done by David Byrne) and swung a glowing orb over his head and the crowd to a trippy effect. Garza was on an elevated platform and presided over the proceedings like a sage soundsystem wrangler. About two thirds of the way through, stage crew set up chairs on stage and the musicians did an “unplugged” set with the singers parading through. Good crowd for a Wednesday night. Toads tagline is “where the legends play”, it would be nice if they returned to form. Legends do their Jell-O shots and glow lights on the tour bus.

Yale Percussion Group 3/1/24 Sprague Hall

 It’s been a while since attending a YPG show and I’ve forgotten how mesmerizing they can be. The concert was billed as “From Piazolla to Pleiades”. The first tune was Le Grand Tango from the master accordionist and composer Astor Piazolla. The group was 6 varsity percussionists from Yale’s storied program, one white guy and five grad students of Asian descent, one being a tiny female. The Tango had four marimbas and dueling pianos. I sat close as to get a good view of the marimbas, one was decidedly “bass”, the young lady had two to bang on, and the other two had matching configurations except one had a metallic clang while the other had a smooth wooden tone. The runs were fluid and I enjoyed watching the body language of the players. The standard “10 and 2” mallet technique was a constant for all marimbists. The second suite was called Water by the composer AlejandroVinao. The music meandered through three distinct parts: Edge of a Tide, Through the Wild Rain, and All The Rivers. Marimba runs can approximate water sounds, and the crew did an expert job of imparting that to the audience. The head of the program and musical director is Robert Van Sice who regaled the crowd with personal stories of his interactions with John Cage, Steve Reich, and Iannis Xenakis. At intermission, the musicians were busy jacking the stage with instruments for set two. For anyone who hasn’t seen this stage, it is large, and after setup, was completely littered with marimbas, drums, congas, bongos, tympani drums, laptops, and ipads. The second set consisted of Pleiades by Xenakis. The director said the piece starts cohesively, then 3 and 3 split for a cacaphonous maelstrom before reuniting for the thunderous ending. That was helpful in navigating this challenging piece. If anyone hasn’t seen six musicians furiously banging away at exotic and obviously costly instrumentation, I urge them to take in a YPG performance, it’s stunning.

Tomeka Reid Quartet w/ Tomas Fujiwara’s 7 Poets Trio 2/25/24 Real Artways

 Afternoon show at RAW started with drummer Tomas Fujiwara and his 7 Poets Trio. The music was pulled from their recent release Pith. The set started with Tomas dedicating the first tune to Marcus Smart. “Does anyone know who Marcus Smart is?” The Sunday afternoon grizzled Jazz intelligentsia was stumped. Did he invent the B-flat baritone clarinet? Did he perform with his Sackbutt trio in some industrial drainage piping? Ex-Celtic I exclaim, which got a drumstick acknowledgement from Tomas. Joined onstage by vibraphonist Patricia Brennan and Tomeka Reid on cello. The music swung wildly from contemporary classical to straight up jazz workouts. Tomas is a master of restraint using a bevy of brushes, metal and fibrous, giving subtle tones. Reid is also versatile. The jazz cello is welcome to my ears. The ability to go low or high, plucked, scraped or bowed can offer a wide palette to explore. The vibes brought the chaos. The signature quad mallet approach affords the most sound. Two mallets in each hand, with their business ends situated at 10 and 2 brought the sound to the foreground. Brennan’s furious striking caused the plates to jump around in their housing. Fujiwara must be a big hoop fan, as his other group is called the Triple Double.

The second group had Reid and Fujiwara joined by guitarist Mary Halvorson and standup bassist Jason Roebke. The music came from Reid’s forthcoming 3+3 release. Halvorson has been positively reviewed in this blog, her forward thinking runs and squalls  give critical acclaim to any group she inhabits. The interplay between Mary and Tomeka was great. They looked like two teens trying to one-up each other at a sleepover. I’ve dinged Halvorsen for her outdated wardrobe and nerdiness, but years of touring Europe seems to have afforded her an extreme makeover. She looked less like despised 70s babysitter and more like Dutch hepcat that could help you ace your brain surgery final exam. I had a weird angle on Roebke, he had slicked back hair and Clark Kent glasses. He treated the bass as percussion and was a great foil to Reid’s output. The room was full and cramped but it did not dampen an enjoyable afternoon of improvised jazz.

Linda May Han Oh 2/2/24 Sprague Hall Yale

 Its’s all about the bass says MeghanTrainor. Similarly, Yale’s Ellington Jazz Series seems to favor the low end. I have seen titans of bass Ron Carter and Dave Holland for these events, so it’s only fitting to view young lioness LMHO. Malaysian born, Perth raised Oh, came at the bass through classical training. She won a 2023 Grammy for participating on Terri Lynne Carrington’s album New Standards Vol. 1. She is joined onstage by Greg Ward on sax, Mark Whitfield Jr. on drums, Fabian Almazan on piano and effects, and Sara Serpa on voice. The concert was based on her recent release The Glass Hours, a collection of works that focused on “ abstract themes of the fragility of time and life”. Ward blew feverish runs, often in unison with Serpa and Oh on wordless vocals. The titles and explanations were zen-like, Circles, Antiquity, The Glass Hours, The Imperative, Phosphorus, Respite were all expertly delivered. Oh toggled between standup and electric bass with flashes of funk, drone, and modern composition. Whitfield Jr. was lithe and reminded me of Calvin Weston behind the kit. He looked as if he was on the verge of cracking up, like he had a Jerry Seinfeld on the Bluetooth. Almazan seems to be Oh’s partner as one tune was written for their three year old. He reveled in playing the Sprague Steinway which stretches for two city blocks. The addition of Serpa added a unique sound with some poetic passages, her Portuguese accent shining through. Gracious to be included in this historic series, Oh will be on the forefront of jazz for years to come.

Lonnie Holley & Mourning [A] BLKstar 1/18/24 Whitney Humanities Center at Yale

 Some shows are difficult to describe. The spiritual feelings I experienced while sitting in the audience for this event will not be accurately scribed. I can give you the facts and let your imagination conjure the feelings. Let’s start with the venue, WHC is just one of many hallowed halls attached to Yale. An unassuming entrance on Wall Street led to a beautiful auditorium where a hundred or so patrons were treated to this awesome show. M[A]B is an experimental collective of artists and storytellers formed in Cleveland that are self-proclaimed avant poets  who fuse beat making and classic instrumentation to weave afrofuturist tales. An eight person gender fluid multiracial outfit, trumpet, percussion, bass, drums, trombone, multiple vocalists, and a beatmaster on laptop and electronics laid the framework for Holley to work. Lee Bains, guitarist and former student of Holley, gave an added dimension to M[A]B and lent a stage familiarity that was palpable. I will plagiarize the playbill to describe Holley. “Born in Jim Crow-era Birmingham Alabama in 1950, Lonnie Holley was the seventh of 27 children and at the age of four was taken from his mother and traded for a bottle of whiskey. He fled abusive foster parents, was hit by a car ( and declared brain dead) and was later sent to the Alabama Industrial School for Negro Children (essentially a slave camp).” Hardship, struggle, and furious curiosity fuel the art, visual and performance, from this amazing man. The introduction was given by Holley’s friend and promoter Matt Arnett, son of TV comedian Will. Arnett explained that a Holley performance is completely improvised. An index card with notes and phrases guides the proceeding for Holley and the musicians rendering no two performances the same. On this evening, the concepts of time, education, environmental justice, and freedom allowed Holley to riff. The music moved from gospel to hiphop to afrobeat and was completely engaging. Holley enjoyed word play and had fun with Yale which rhymes with jail and sounds like yell. At one point, when riffing on social justice, Holley intoned “nothing I write, can make it right”, I feel that, nothing I write can describe it right. Props to CCAM (Yale’s Center for Collaborative Arts and Media) a well-connected student group that arranged the performance.

Ghost-note 1/16/24 New Park Brewing West Hartford

 Ghost-note is a jam-jazz-funk collective helmed by two drummers that also do time in the downtown modern jazz big band Snarky Puppy. Drummer Robert “Sput”  Searight and percussionist Nate Werth were joined by two saxes, keys, guitar, bass, and singer. The octet was tight and it was nice to see a group with emphasis placed on drums. Searight was active and was a delicious smash of   ?uestlove and Art Blakey. The music was loose jams that drew on Tower of Power, James Brown, and Sly Stone. I’ve seen this crew at a Newport Jazz and they seem to have evolved over time. The singer didn’t do much singing but his yelping “Ha” and “Good Gawds” lent some vocal percussion. They keys player offered some spacey passages that made me reminisce of Bernie Worrell of the Mothership. First time at this brewery whose product appears nowhere except at this address. They have a taproom and the concert happened in another space called the “green room”. The saxes played off of each other with one’s sound processed through some synth. The guitar and bass were a solid backbone and could be in front or back of the sound. Great cover of The Isley’s Work To Do.

Paul Simon Tribute 1/12/24 Park City Music Hall Bridgeport

 First time at the revamped Acoustic Cafe now called PCMH. Local bon vivant John Torres put glass garage doors, revamped the stage, bar, and sound system to capitalize on the hipster enclave known as the Black Rock section. Torres’ son fronted this incarnation of Simon homage with two jam packed sets. The setlist took a loose arc of Simon’s storied career. Great versions of Me and Julio, Slip Slidin’ Away, Kodachrome, Cecilia, 50 Ways to Leave Your lover, Hearts and Bones, Mother and Child Reunion, One Trick Pony, and a personal fave The Only Living Boy in NY. Closed the set with a rousing Late In The Evening. Like the Beatles or the Stones, many people seem to have an innate affiliation with the Simon catalog, belting out lyrics to most of the songs. The band was expansive with Torres on vocals/guitar, female singer, organ, guitar, bass, percussion, drums, with occasional horns creating a full sound.  Torres explained that the songs sound simple but are challenging to play, and not just when they move into world music territory. The median age of this band was probably 30, which puts them squarely in diapers when the tail end of this material was even recorded. How then did the project come to be? I imagine sitting around a coffeehouse with one musician saying “you gotta check out Paul Simon, dude is amazing on all fronts”. Second set focused on  the Graceland era of Simon’s success. The Boy in the Bubble, Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes, I Know What I Know, Graceland, Crazy Love Vol. II were all expertly delivered. There was an excellent deep cut Can’t Run But from the widely under-appreciated Rhythm of The Saints record with some righteous conga work. Closed with a great version You Can Call Me Al. The beauty of this kind of tribute is the wide appeal of the music and the multi-generational allure to view and play it.