Alan Sparhawk w/ Circuit Des Yeux 4/4/25 Space Ballroom

 Glad to have entered early enough to catch a couple of tunes from CDY. Circuit Des Yeux from Chicago has one member, voice and electronics artist Haley Fohr. Armed with an otherworldly vocal range, effects table with voice manipulator and drum machine, Fohr applies her voice to clubby, industrial slices of her catalog. I saw her about ten years ago in the back room at Bar. On that evening she knelt in the corner and growled into the microphone for her set. Perennial critic’s darling, Fohr exudes uncompromising artist vibe. Look her up on Spotify and notice an intriguing side project, The Ballad of Jackie Lynn, where Haley inhabits the persona of a coked-out country singer and performs a song cycle about her dysfunctional fictitious life. Her booming low register is sampled and processed to produce a club choir amalgam.

Alan Sparhawk is adrift. Duluth resident started the critically acclaimed indie band Low in the 90s. Sparhawk formed Low with childhood friend and eventual wife Mimi Parker. Parker played drums and sometimes bass while Sparhawk played guitar. The real treat was their vocal duets. The voices chillingly complemented each other. Listen to under the radar records like The Great Destroyer or The Invisible Way and I dare you not to become a Low fan. In 2022, tragedy struck when Parker died of cancer. One can only imagine the personal and artistic devastation that resulted. Burying himself in his craft, Alan’s output has been uncompromising and wide ranging. On one recent recording, he puts his voice through some ultra pitch tuned modulator that sounds like a cross between Alvin of Chipmunks fame crossed with Laurie Anderson in a helium chamber. Largely unintelligible vocals set to dance beats are an unusual extension of the lyric heavy crescendo slowcore known as Low. His most recent record, backed by the Americana group Trampled By Turtles, is a delicious collection of literate songs. Unsure what to expect on this evening, the show starts with a set from the Chipmunk recording. Sparhawk joined by bass, and drums jumps around maniacally, like some kid that just raided the Molly cabinet. Perhaps dance therapy is one way to shake off the grief. The drummer even has red plastic rimmed glasses as if he were trying out for the Buggles. Alan switches to guitar for the second half and pulls from the other excellent recording. The versatility is amazing, at one point doing a cover from the recently departed Roy Ayers. Finishes the set with a nod to another recently deceased hero, David Lynch. While chatting with Manic Mark, I got a funny story about seating requirements from Low, we both resolve that Sparhawk is a true artist and can do whatever the fuck he wants. This evening will go down as a showcase of the resilient wide ranging artists on the scene. From the modern composition activism of Raven Chacon, to the vocal creativity of Haley Fohr, capped by the grief release of Alan Sparhawk…..wow.

Raven Chacon 4/4/25 CCAM

 Raven Chacon is a multidisciplinary artist from Fort Defiance, Navajo Nation outside of Albuquerque. He graces Yale for a mini residency, interacting with students, having his chamber compositions performed at Schwarzman, and tonight’s stop at  the CCAM  clubhouse for some Q and A and a noise performance. Speaking with lead CCAM wrangler Ross Wightman, we learn that as a young Native American headbanger, Raven and a drummer friend spent time in the desert making some unholy racket, no parents or neighbors to file a noise complaint. Given his answers to Ross’ questions, seems that Raven’s forays came with some peyote buttons. He started with a bass, but the strings broke ,then the neck, and he was left with a bass pickup and a desert generator. The next step was noise. His mother urged him to higher musical education. Given the lack of like-minded noiseniks in town, Raven enrolled in the prestigious CalArts program to study with James Tenney. A new world opened up, Cage, Cardew,  Riley and other West coast modern composers mentored the young Chacon into the Pulitzer Prize winning artist he is today. Ushers passed out earplugs knowing the squall that was about to ensue. A table of effects pedals and iPads unleashed a torrent of white noise. The beauty of a noise performance is that different sounds emerge and fade. One sequence sounded like a beating heart, another sounded like squeaky bus brakes morphing into birdhouse at the zoo territory. The shades were not drawn, at one point a Bernoulli effect ambulance siren drove down York street, forcing a wry smile from Chacon. The Pulitzer was won for his piece Voiceless Mass written for church organ and choir. Raven also plugged the upcoming NYC End Tymes Festival, highlighting noise artists performing in churches, abandoned subway tunnels and the like. Raven’s social activism frequently puts him in the cross hairs of the political steamroller, land rights, indigenous peoples rights, he even obtained grant money to stitch together sounds from J6 (the current administration pulled that funding lickety split).  Cage’s infamous composition 4’33”, four and a half minutes of complete silence,  sparked a young Chacon.  The reaction to his people being silenced informs his art to this day. Another great performance at the hands of Yale’s Center for Collaborative  Arts and Media (CCAM).

Charlie Ballantine Trio 3/29/25 Firehouse 12

 Guitarist, composer, educator Ballantine  is a young guitarist from Indianapolis. Listed in the top 200 of living guitarists chronicled by All About Jazz magazine, Charlie makes a stop for the Firehouse spring series. Accompanied by standup bass and drums, the trio plow through a groove-based workout for a sparse second set crowd. A departure from the usual improv fare usually on display, this trio cooked. Ballantine’s agile runs seemed frenetic and effortless, the setlist pulled from his modest but tasteful catalog. Original works Love Letters and Graffiti, Falling Grace, and Cold Coffee are balanced by reverential releases Life Is Brief (Dylan), Vonnegut, and a tour of  Thelonious Monk chestnuts. Tunes like Love Letters, and Blues for Baltimorrow were expertly delivered. Excellent version of Monk’s Off Minor was a highlight. The reverence toward the Firehouse was also notable, Charlie did some homework as to the many greats that have graced this space over time. To quote the late great Captain Beefheart describing Yale graduate Gary Lucas playing “Flavor Bud Living”, …… “ man can play guitar.”

Light Upon Blight Ensemble W/ Dr. Caterwaul’s Cadre of Clairvoyant Claptraps 3/5/25 Cafe 9

 Got off the couch early for local noiseniks Doc C. Helmed by renaissance man Adam Matlock on accordion, keytar and vocals with Brian Slattery on fiddle and Cajun field holler, they are joined by standup bass and drums. I enter the club to a straight up Zydeco number, accordion and field holler were so expertly delivered, it sounded like I was in Baton Rouge. Matlock and company are such musical omnivores that the Zydeco number seemed effortless. Next up Adam switched to the unusual keytar, a portable keyboard with a guitar neck allows for bent notes and a funky jazz number. Adam then sings a soul/ blues number about music “that will make you shake”. Final tune seemed like opera, with Adam on booming vocals, because, why not?  Matlock has sung in Anthony Braxton large groups, plays avant garde, metal, and everything in between.  These guys have other lives and have limited live dates but I urge any local music fans to seek them out. Each show is like a box of chocolates.

Light Upon Blight Ensemble is the brainchild of local guitarists Bob Gorry and Jeff Cedrone. Bob is leader of NHIC ( New Haven Improvisers Collective) a loose group of likeminded music weirdos that was home to some of the Doc C players. LUBE has just had a cd release Century which is on Spotify and bandcamp. On this evening they play one long form piece It’s Dark Now an homage to the late great David Lynch. The guitarists are joined by sax, electric bass, and two drummers. The music goes in many directions, with Cedrone’s guitar giving him trouble at one point. The beauty of improv was that it moves to the “next man up” while Jeff fiddled with his rig. Gorry had a stabbing section that sounded like he was channeling Sonny Sharrock. This music is challenging but worthwhile when viewed live. Nice to see a good group of appreciators on this rainy evening.

Echo 3/2/25 AFAM Center at Yale

 The Yale Undergraduate Jazz Collective teamed up with a local group of poets known as Word to present an afternoon mashup of the two art forms. First piece was a young black woman talking about her complicated relationship with the South. Georgia, to be exact, she alluded to her birth and viewing the state as a parent. She was joined by a sax and trumpeter that gave a NewOrleans feel to the piece. Next up was a bleached blonde Asian woman whose piece was erotic. Imagery of hands on her throat toggled between sensual and strangling. She was joined by piano and flugelhorn. The musicians played snippets of My Funny Valentine during her piece. A young man took the mic and had a two part recitation. The first part was a rant about the state of our society for a person of color. He played with the words hopeless and hope less. The second part seemed to be about a relative, a younger brother maybe. He spoke of the future and what lies ahead for the youngster. He was joined by guitar, sax, and a young woman on wordless vocals. The final poet was a young man whose piece was about love and the cosmos. Common tropes for the poet, he was joined by guitar and piano. His delivery was not as assertive as the others which detracted from the musical backing. It sounded like he was mumbling his piece while walking by a Tower Records that had Windham Hill bumping out the door. I give credit to both groups of artists, they seemed to genuinely revel in the mashup. The trick was the sound, you needed to hear the words and the music which was tricky. Enjoyable afternoon show.

Yale Percussion Group 2/28/25 Sprague Hall

 February is a down month. Sure, it only has 28 days and Valentines Day, but when you realize it’s only 6% shorter than most months and Valentines Day is the New Years Eve of romance, you’re left with the misery known as shoveling and scraping. Thankfully, Robert van Sice, director of the heralded Yale Percussion Group, has chosen February for the annual recital. The program starts with “Threads”, a 2005 composition by Paul Lansky. Four musicians each with a marimba or vibraphone and some sort of drum set. As with the annual bassoon recital, I will describe the students. Lanky white guy, could be a great great great grandson of the revolution, starts by bowing his vibes perpendicular to a drone effect. His drum set is a collection of snares and toms as well as a shelf of junkyard objects that gives off a cartoonish vibe. A young asian woman played marimba and large kettle drums, when struck forcefully, they sounded like traditional Taiko. Another young Caucasian man played vibes and congas, the latter sounding like a blaxploitation film alley chase. The final player was a young Asian man with toms and kick drum to add to the marimba. They played in a close circle, watching each other through the piece. Threads was a collection of mini pieces that returned to a soothing almost Mike Post theme vibe. The second piece, Ouroboros was a marimba duet written by the lanky player, a 22year old composer, overachiever. He notes that the piece was designed with palindromic runs, like an Escher snake eating its tail. The final piece of the first set was a marimba duo with the young Asian woman and a new to the stage white guy. The intermission is a chance for the players to clear the stage and set up for the finale. The second set was the 30 minute piece Dressur by the Argentinian composer Mauricio Kagel. Introduced byVan Sice as the intersection of Fellini and Cage, the piece was as much performance art as it was music. Three players, two guys and a girl, took their places at wooden desks and tables flanking a circular wooden platform. Turns out that all the “instruments” were wooden and handcrafted by the crew. Van Sice urged the crowd to laugh when things got funny and appreciate the theater involved. Like an opera in a foreign tongue, you had to discern, what was happening by tone, timbre, and facial gesture. Seems that one male was the aggressor, loudly stomping his chair at the cowering others. The oppressed signaled confidence by joining forces and clapping back with the guy lifting his shirt over his head and clomping his bare torso with coconut shells. At one point, the female put a bamboo wind chime on her head and mounted the round platform. The aggressor played 2x4s, 1x3s, and crown molding slapping and scraping as he went. Torso guy took the circle and donned some wooden clogs which he played and clomped. The piece is available on YouTube, and I urge readers to check it out. I likened the experience to Waiting for Godot with drums. February may be boring, but leave it to the Yale Percussion Group to lift you out of the drolldrums.

William Parker 2/16/25 Real Art Ways Hartford

 Annual stop for the William Parker Pantooker Revue starring some regional Jingtinglers. That’s right, Parker is such a mythic figure, he’s downright Seussian. The Improv Now monthly series at Real Art Ways has thankfully moved from the overly mirrored poor sound quality ballet studio to a gallery space near the entrance, cafe, and bathrooms. The gallery space has a large projection screen exhibiting the work “Thin Ice” by the CT artist Joseph Smolinski. The video is that of a Ford 150 with an American flag stuck in the tailgate (we’ve all driven behind one) that is slowly sinking through thin ice. The piece is mainly about climate change but takes swipes at toxic masculinity, faux patriotism, and modern day jack-assery. The video was halted for the performance. Parker is a downtown bassist and general multi instrumentalist. He is joined by Improv Now mastermind Joe Morris who plays bass, guitar, ngoni, and banjuke, and percussionist Jerome Dupree. The listing had local cornetist Taylor Ho Bynum, but he failed to show. The trio plied their improv trade. First tune had Parker on some kind of a brass umbrella stand and Morris on standup bass. Morris with baseball cap looked like a middle-aged avant garde first base coach. Coaxing his team to try running to third base first, or agreeing to let all nine players play right field. Dupree was nimble, with light touches and brushes, he followed the others with impeccable timing. With nerd glasses and wool beanie, Jerome looked the ultimate hipster. We learn that Dupree was drummer for the amazing Cambridge indie trio Morphine back in the day. Parker is a sight, my last viewing I realized halfway through the show that his clothing made him look like a big strawberry. Red pants with felt ‘seeds” affixed to them and a green beret “stem” of sorts. Todays show had somewhat normal attire, but upon closer inspection his obviously hand crafted pants seemed to be made of coral pink bath towels stitched together for 38X32 trousers. Better yet “pockets” made from a red tie dyed T-shirt were sown on each calf. Seems that these pockets were made to hold bow rosin at the perfect altitude. Next tune had Morris on guitar while Parker moved to standup bass. He plucked  and bowed to great effect. The interplay was great as these three are masters of jazz telepathy.. William also played a small metallic vuvuzela that gave off an Asian lilt. I braved shitty weather for this show and was delighted to see a near capacity crowd do the same.

Lea Bertucci 2/11/25 World Music Hall, Wesleyan

 Lea Bertucci is a NYC-based sound artist who focuses on tape loop and voice manipulation. Tonight’s performance was billed as a MA thesis program. Seems that Bertucci, whose installations have been featured worldwide, thought it would be a good idea to obtain a graduate degree from Wesleyan. The program had two long form pieces. The first was “Two Way Mirror” which revolved around stream of consciousness vocalization in which she warped her voice through creative misuse of a reel to reel tape machine. The tape extends and shatters words into fragments and confounds the relationship between language and meaning. The result seemed somewhere between Laurie Anderson and the Exorcist. Lea proceeded to expound with treated vocal fragments, “mass confusion and mass delusion”, “good government, good god”, “it’s a shame what has happened to the Americans”. The reel to reel lends an antiquated air to the piece, Lea hovers over the machine like a club DJ. The second piece was “ The Days Pass Quickly Immersed in the Shadow of Eternity” a work for multichannel speakers, electronics, and “live early flutes”. Lea had the audience move to the stage area and sit on cushions arranged in a circle around her. The music was taped flutes from Norbert Rodenkirchen, an early music scholar, who offered her sustained microtones from wooden and bone flutes. The instruments in this iteration were the Bass Renaissance, Medieval Traverso, Tenor Renaissance , Sheep Bone, and Swan Bone flutes. The result was haunting, ancient and modern. A fascinating journey that toggled time.

Mali Obomsawin 1/31/25 Sprague Hall, Yale

 Winter installment of Yale’s Ellington Jazz Series hosts genre fluid standup bassist Obomsawin and her band. Mali is a proud citizen of the Odenak First Nation, an indigenous section of central Quebec along the St. Lawrence seaway. Her heritage flows in and out of her work in the form of  field recordings, cadence, and wordless vocals. The band was excellent with Allison Burik on alto sax and bass clarinet, Noah Campbell on tenor  and soprano sax, Magdalena Abrego on guitar, and brothers Zack and Adam O’Farrill on drums and trumpet respectively. The show starts with an extended bass solo, with Mali plucking while in a trance. Wafer thin with saucer sized earrings, Mali had command of her instrument that was roughly her same size. On one speedy passage, it looked as if Mali was shaking the mast off a sailboat. Burik spent much of her time on the unusual bass clarinet, the hookah of the reed family, it is a hybrid brass and woodwind. Campbell seemed to be a devotee of fire music with Ayler-esque runs on both tenor and soprano. Tiny Abrego was fascinating, she started with bent note shading like David Torn, moved to Henry Kaiser angular solos, and even rock choogled like Jimmy Page, her diminutive size anathema to her sound. The O’Farrill brothers come from Latin jazz royalty, father Arturo and grandfather Chico were big band leaders that served as a proving ground for countless musicians. Obomsawin has a toe in many styles, Deerlady is a shoe gaze duo with Abrego, an excellent recording with roots musician ( and blog favorite) Jake Blount, film scores, and various sized jazz ensembles allow her to compose in many directions. The result was music that was difficult to categorize. One song had a field recording of an elderly Odenak male speaking in his native tongue, the backing music swelled in a buoyant fashion effectively assigning triumphant meaning to his words. Another had Burik and Abrego engaging in a back and forth electrical storm with battling effects pedals. At one point, Mali asked if Yale had divested in Israel to which the crowd yelled “no”. Obviously annoyed, she explained that support of indigenous peoples is contradictory to imperialist policy. Great evening of music, it wasn’t indie, it wasn’t world, it wasn’t jazz…..it was all of the above.

Reverend William Barber 1/27/25 Battell Chapel Yale

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

Sasha Berliner 1/24/25 AFAM Cultural Center Yale

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

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

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

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

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

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