Mick Barr w/ The Regal Drug 7/8/26 Cannons ( New Haven )

 Cannons on Dwight St. in New Haven is not to be confused with the venerable Middletown beer paradise known as Eli Cannons. The New Haven “Eli-less” (is that even possible?) is more vegetable than venerable, literally, it’s a joint/vegan restaurant. Managed by local scenester, Carlos of (once again New Haven, State House) fame, Cannons assumes an unlikely address on Dwight St. As a suburban kid growing up in the area, Dwight St. was popular for prostitution, car radio boosting, and general hijinx. Fast forward 40 years, a sprinkling of gentrification, and voila, a vegan restaurant with a side of weird music is born. I enter the venue to the strains of The Regal Drug. Local guy on synth, drone, knob twiddling, he has been positively reviewed here before. One Weird Music Night, TRD had a local trumpeter in the mix. On this evening, some recorded vocal snippets made for a tasty tapestry.

Mick Barr is a black metal guitarist from Queens. For 20 years he has fronted the experimental metal band Krallice. The genre is outside my wheelhouse, to the point where I stupidly left my earplugs in the car. A hairy Barr takes the tiny performance space. He launches into hyperspeed runs, turned up to 11. The music was deafening. Seated at a small table, I was able to use natures earplugs, my pinky fingers, to unobtrusively soften the blow. Technically amazing but migraine inducing, I was reminded of my wheelhouse. Imagine if Ritchie Blackmore took control of your alarm clock, jammed the volume control and snooze function, and squalled an endless loop. About 20 minutes in, Mick loops a lick, then picks up an acoustic guitar. Out spills another half hour of some of the most beautifully executed finger picking I have witnessed in recent memory. Passages that sounded flamenco moved toward British folk before landing in some modern drone. Mick must be revered in guitarland, local educator/virtuoso Joe Morris was sitting in front. Spotify Barr and you’ll find he appears on a guitar nerd comp that includes such luminaries as Mary Halvorson,  Henry Kaiser, and Jeff Parker. Commended Carlos on his sticktoitiveness. Happy to have a night of contradictions, a vegan restaurant on  Dwight St. where I witnessed a blistering and complimentary beautiful set of music.

Dr. Caterwaul’s Cadre of Clairvoyant Claptraps play the music of Tom Waits 6/26/26 Best Video

 Tom Waits was a pied piper to me in the 90s. We “whistled past the graveyard”,we took a left at “9th and Hennepin”, we even sailed one night for “Singapore”. Before streaming, or Spotify we were left to our own devices. In my case, convince the guy who buys cds for your local library that he should purchase any and all work by Tom Waits. This allowed me to spend time with the likes of Rain Dogs, Bone Machine, The Mule Variations, Real Gone, and Swordfishtrombones. While I thought it was just me and the library guy following Tom down raspy voice lane, turns out in a nearby hamlet the geeks that would go on to form Doc C found the same rabbit hole. Doc C has been positively reviewed in this blog many times. Local musical omnivores, they are ideally suited to take on this challenging music. The group has Adam Matlock on accordion, keys, drum pads and vocals, Brian Slattery on fiddle, banjo, guitar, trombone and lead vocals, drummer, standup bass and two guitars on this evening. Chris Cretella and Bob Gorry are responsible for the twin guitar attack. Waits oeuvre is split into two distinct periods, the first is piano-whiskey-cigarettes lounge crooner that gave us such gems as The Heart of Saturday Night or Foreign Affairs. The second period got darker and more experimental thanks to his music and life partner Kathleen Brennan, it is from this period that the evenings music was pulled. Pretty full house of Waitslovers at Best Video made for an enjoyable set. We start with Anywhere I Lay My Head, Temptation, Jockey Full Of Bourbon, Time, Dirt in the Ground, Singapore, Goin Out West (Brian’s theme song), Chocolate Jesus (Bob on vocals), Horse That Ran, Big Black Mariah, Cold Water, Walking Spanish, Earth Dies Screaming, Cold Cold Ground, Come On Up To the House, and closed out with Telephone Call From Istanbul. Brian did most of the singing, Adam sang a few as did Bob. While no one can approximate the Tom Waits growl, the crew performed admirably. The hallmark of this music is the odd instrumentation, harmonium, saw, out there percussion serve as a perfect backdrop for the advanced images conjured by the lyrics. Hearing this music brings me back to a wonderful place in time, thanks to Best Video and Doc C for manning the wheel.

Green River Festival 6/20/26 Franklin County Fairgrounds MA

 Not to be confused with the Green Reflecting Pool Debacle, the GRF is a must on the summer circuit. For 20 years (at least) this low-key affair just north of Northampton puts together three days of well curated and organized fest. We opt for the Saturday, music starts noonish and runs till 10ish. Three stages invites strolling to catch some of each artist

Greg Freeman: Vermont based rocker starts off the main stage

Sally Baby’s Silver Dollars: New Orleans old timey music with a great singer. Lotta bodies on stage with washboard and slap happy standup bass

Alex Amen: California singer songwriter who dropped out of film school and shacked up in the historic Dittman Family Commune, a hotbed of  60s counterculture. Joined by another folkie on 12 string, I got a decided Jesse ColinYoung vibe

Tunde Adebimpe: Front man for the Brooklyn based TV On The Radio. Had some keyboards and samplers to flesh out this solo performance

Sonido Gallo Negro: Cumbia band from Mexico City inspired by the roots of psychedelic tropical music. Guitars, organs, percussion, analog synths, and theremin. Your heard right, theremin added a spooky backdrop. Excellent version of Devo’s Whip It

Fust: Durham NC country tinged folk band. Great drawl on the singer reminded me of Jay Farrar of Uncle Tupelo and Son Volt fame. Good backing band brought the full sound to the small back porch stage.

Kurt Vile and the Violaters: Philly lofi slacker and band rock the main stage. His deadpan vocal delivery reminds me of last years headliner Courtney Barnett. Plays his hits, trades his guitar for a trumpet at one point. Brings out local guitar legend and Dinosaur Jr. frontman J. Mascis for the signature tune Chance to Bleed

Los Mirlos: Created in Lima in 1973, Los Mirlos deal in “Amazonian cumbia”. Like Os Mutantes, these old guys tour the world spreading their brand of cumbia.

Folk BitchTrio: Three young women from Australia have great harmony vocals. Haunting tunes would have been better served in a small club.

The Beths: New Zealand indie rock outfit takes the main stage. They have many lamps on stage, seem to be popular with the kids.

We head out before headliner Spoon takes the stage but had a full day of music.

Sunny War 6/18/26 Cafe 9

 The methods for discovering new music have evolved in my lifetime. I remember buying the 45rpm singles, the beloved mixtape from a friend (hopefully with some cover adornment), that moved to the mix cd, and now to the dreaded algorithm. While relinquishing control of the picks to Spotify Central Headquarters seems like a step backwards, we must realize that it is here to stay. I am happy to report that my introduction to the Nashville based singer songwriter Sunny War, was straight up serendipity. Traveling to Music City, I had to make a stop at the legendary record store outpost Grimey’s. When pulling in to my parking spot, I see the side of the building is freshly painted with the likeness of a young african American woman with the title Sunny War. Once inside, I see a small section dedicated to the emerging artist. Born Sydney Lyndella Ward, Sunny captivates audiences with her fantastic alto voice. On this evening, she is joined by a drummer for helpful timekeeping and stage banter. Sounding like a cross between Joan Armatrading and Cassandra Wilson, War’s blend of folk and blues pushed through a modern lens is a treat. Highlighting her recent release “Armageddon in a Summer Dress”. Her popularity is snowballing and has a choice time slot at the Friday Green River Festival the following day. The inter song chatter is comical in that her speaking voice is that of a weed-addled 8th grader. No matter, when the music starts her beautiful singing voice tumbles out. Her voice is so novel it acts as a third instrument. The setlist was great, Lucid Lucy, No Reason,  If It Wasn’t Broken, Big Baby (about her guitar),  closes with her signature tune Whole. Keep an eye out for Sunny War, her captivating voice will undoubtedly increase her popularity.

Curtis Hasselbring’s Curhachestra 6/12/26 Firehouse 12

 Final show of the spring season brings bandleader Hasselbring to the Firehouse. Curtis plays trombone and electric guitar and is joined by pedal steel, electric bass, and drums. The odd instrumentation gave off a cartoonish vibe. Having played the trombone as a kid, I have fond memories of the slide. The pedal steel is a great counterpoint to the trombone, usually reserved for country workouts it sounded great in the sound paradise of the Firehouse. The bass player had jamband chops and lent a hippie backdrop to the set. First tune was an excellent instrumental cover of The Kinks Lazy Old Sun. Curtis toggled from trombone to guitar with ease. The music was more composed than improvised and had strains of Zappa. Excellent and unusual set of music closes out the Firehouse season.

Marisa Anderson 6/8/26 Spaceland

 Portland Oregon based guitarist Anderson plays the intimate front room of Spaceland for an excellent set of music. A climate and social activist, Anderson has been forging an eclectic body of work over the past fifteen years. I was enamored with her early work excavating and polishing public domain material into modern instrumental jams. Gorgeous collaborations with the drummer Jim White and fellow axe-wielder William Tyler followed. She starts her set on solo electric and some older material, a nice reading of the old blues number Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning was great. Marisa says the song has relevance in today’s world as a call to readiness. The next section of the performance pulled songs from her recent recording The Anthology of UnAmerican Folk Music. The title is a nod to Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music considered a Rosetta Stone for folk artists in the 60s and 70s. Smith was a kook, junkie, song collector, who traveled the world collecting field recordings, indigenous music made by amateurs to get a feel for the cultural roots of song. When Smith died, his belongings were auctioned off. Turns out the University of Oklahoma was the recipient of the detritus. Inexplicably, they had no ability to store the material and called the Bob Dylan center in Tulsa for help. Marisa wrangled some alone time with the archive and her project was born. While Harry focused on America, Marisa culled music from UnAmerican sources. She copied recordings of  900 songs and spent nearly a year just listening. She whittled the trove to a dozen songs, five of which she performed. Beautiful haunting melodies ensued. Marisa performed some on a classic resonator guitar. One from Turkmenistan, one from Pakistan, one from Afghanistan, one from Tajikistan, and a final one from Syria. She explains that the field recording from Syria left a big dent on her. Upon close listening, she said she could hear the building. In context, that building is almost certainly destroyed as are the instruments and maybe the relatives of the musicians. She closed the concert with some older tunes, one dedicated to her sister and another written for her dog. As we bear down on the 250th anniversary of our nation, it may be antithetical to revel in UnAmerican music, but I will follow Harry Smith whose eyes may have been red, but wide open.

Mdou Moctar (solo) 6/1/26 Spaceland

 “Hendrix from Niger”, not sure who was responsible, but the similarities are striking. Young black men, lefty virtuosos on electric guitar. Seattle is a hemisphere away from Niger, and so is the music. This will be the third or fourth time seeing Mdou, but the first in a solo setting. A few years before the pandemic, Moctar’s record label, Sahel Sounds, arranged a US tour of hipster locations. The crowds were sparse, but the buzz was palpable. Dressed in the Bedouin robes and headgear, the group spun a delicious elixir of psychedelic desert trance drone. The focal point was Mdou’s spider like fretwork. Because no one in the group spoke any English, a label exec explained the back story. Turns out that secular music was a no-no in Mdou’s religion, forcing him to make his own guitar and practice in private. Fast forward to 2026, Mdou plays solo to a packed Spaceland and even regales the crowd with some stories. The music is exotic with beautiful call and response passages. Mdou sings in his native tongue, but has the New England crowd swaying as if they understand. Because he played while seated, it was difficult to see the master at work. The dizzying sounds were hard to parse as coming from one set of hands. After the encore, Mdou explains that the proceeds from merch and touring are funneled back to his impoverished homeland in an effort to build schools, dig wells and move his country forward. Glad to be a witness to the evolution of this amazing artist.

Marta Sanchez 5/29/26 Firehouse 12

 Solo piano excursions at the Firehouse are always a treat. The artist is the main attraction, but the Firehouse house piano adds to the wonder. I have lovingly described this behemoth many times, and will take this opportunity to try again. Spanning a city block, this monstrous beauty looks like a 1970s Cadillac complete with tasteful spotless whitewalls. On this evening the hood was propped, allowing Sanchez access to install capos or clamps to modify the sound output. “Prepared” piano prompts panic palpitations in some listeners. Messing with the piano’s mallets or strings takes some musicians to the absurdist dark side of the avant garde. I still remember some would-be plinker dropping fruit on the strings for some cacadadaphonous effect. Sanchez stayed closer to the true sound which was refreshing. Soft-spoken, diminutive, Spanish, and about five months pregnant added to the allure. Marta said the evening’s compositions were pulled from her recent recording “For the Space You Left”. Her accent made it difficult to understand, but the gist of the record focused on two periods of isolation. One was the COVID pandemic which evokes a certain level of dread and uncertainty. The other was a retreat of choice where Sanchez traveled to a remote Spanish cabin to unplug and commune with nature. The music was beautiful and careened toward chamber offerings. Before each tune, Marta would climb under the hood and install the preparations. The clamps made a focused metallic wheeze for a few locations among the 88. The songs  beautifully danced around these locations offering percussive glitches in her gorgeous runs. The visual of this tiny pregnant Spaniard under the hood was memorable. One can only imagine the in utero experience of that child.

Mary Halvorson’s Canis Major 5/1/26 Firehouse 12

 Guitarist Halvorson has been wowing the Firehouse crowds for decades. In support of other jazzbos or leading her groups Amaryllis or Thumbscrew, Mary is a restless spirit. Her popularity is also blooming as evidenced by two sold out sets. I was lucky to plan ahead and grab an advance ticket for the second set. This project has Mary on guitar, Henry Fraser on standup bass, Dave Adewumi on trumpet, and longtime collaborator, friend, and drummer Tomas Fujiwara. The quartet breezes through their set. Still nerdy and bookish, Mary plays her large hollow body guitar while seated, which makes it hard to see her. Adewumi is new to me and is solid on trumpet. Confident blasts and runs are a good counterpoint to the guitar noodling. Fraser is amazing. Usually plucking, but occasional bowing, Henry is worth following. When soloing, Henry alternated softly plucked passages with loud stabbing runs, as if there were two people playing. Tomas has been positively reviewed in this blog many times. Master time keeper, Fujiwara spent the evening focused on cymbals. His cymbal-centric solo was beautiful. Halvorson is a chameleon on guitar, she even slurred her way through a Hawaiian slack-key passage. The international accolades keep piling up for Mary, I’m happy to say that I have been a fan from the jump.

Weird Music Night 4/26/26 Ely Center

 Can I get an amen? I must be blessed. Joe Morris’ Sunday afternoon recitals, spring and fall series at the Firehouse, odd offerings from the Space Ballroom, local scenesters like Fernando, DJ Shaki, and Manic Mark, the FIM noizoids, not to mention what passes through Yale or Wesleyan. So how bout adding Weird Music Night to that mix. Started by local Dadaist John O’Donnell, the series provides a showcase for regional electronic and video projects that are definitely of the left field variety. The new Ely Center is growing on me. The lack of a sign, the heavy windowless metal door, no light in the foyer, as if to say, “ you’re here for weird music, go find it”. The evening had five artists, I arrived late so I unfortunately missed the first up DJ Turd Burglar. I enter to the sounds of Long Island’s Chants Voyage. He is a traditional DJ with a trippy kaleidoscopic video backdrop. The sounds changed pace, slurred and stuttered, with the DJ in total control of the volume. The trick to this music is to get heads bobbing, Chants had a good percentage. After a brief break, New Haven’s KC1YMF takes the stage. The room has been darkened, like totally. Some weird static and grainy video appear. From stage right enters a sashaying figure dressed in a Sasquatch suit with illuminated night vision goggles. For those familiar with the work of visual artist Nick Cave, not the musician, can conjure the visual of this apparition. The figure hulas in slow motion toward the crowd before kneeling in front of the stage in child’s pose. The sounds pick up and the Sasquatch exits. A young man appears with laptop and two vintage slide projectors, applying sounds to the overlapping images. Something about the sound and operation of the projectors transported me to the early 70s with my dad at the helm putting the slides in upside down. Next up is a Boston based Berklee student who goes by the name Cskonopka. Solo laptop performer also had the kaleidoscopic video. He cut and spliced photos of monuments while soundtracking the video. Didnt stick around for the last offering from Ithaca’s Anna Oxygen, but I’m sure it was weird.

Corey Henry 4/21/26 Skiro Studios Hamden

 Corey is Nawlins royalty. A grandfather who played drums with the Preservation Hall, Corey did stints with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Galactic before starting his Treme Funktet. Like many New Orleans musicians, Corey is a multi-instrumentalist playing trombone as well as keyboards. This evening was billed as a “jam session” with an unusual start time of 930. I arrive at the studio which occupies an address in the Space Ballroom complex. The studio has a nice stage, decent sound system, and a no frills bar. I sit towards the back to get a full view of the place. A crew of youngsters who seem affiliated with the space hit the stage. Drums, bass, and keys noodle a little to make sure the sound is solid. A figure in a trench coat and wool hat appears and sings nice versions of Crazy by Gnarls Barkley and Nat King Cole’s Smile. They hop off stage, not quite an opening act but system checkers. Another hour goes by and the crowd is starting to get restless. I notice the crowd, I realize that of the hundred or so patrons and workers that i am one of five white people in the place. This never happens. In addition to the racial disparity, it seems that everyone knows each other, like I was transported to a house party. I rarely dwell on this, but given the late start, I had time to evaluate. Could be the music, economics, what someone chooses to spend on, or some combination. At 1130, Henry and entourage appear from the rear. High fiving and greeting takes another 20 minutes which lands us close to midnight. Corey sets up at the keyboards with his brother on drums and another guy on a drum pad thing. The trio noodles for a bit before we hear from Corey. Turns out he was at Yale for an event that ran long and was unclear as to his jam session duties. He queries, “y’all know Doobie Powell?” I’m one of the few that doesn’t raise my hand. Turns out that Powell, a Hartford native , is a big deal in the soul-gospel-funk production world. His father toured with Richard “Groove” Holmes and played with the original Sugar Hill Gang, so yeah, pedigree. Turns out the Powell entourage and the Henry entourage are all friends which explains the house party vibe. Doobie takes the stage and plays another keyboard for some more noodling. The music reminds me of Robert Glasper or that Beastie Boys instrumental record “The In Sound from Way Out”. It’s past my bedtime, so I don’t last much longer. It’s nice to know we walk among legends and all their friends.

Tatsuya Nakatani FIM #116 Ely Center 4/10/26

 The Ely Center has been evicted. I don’t know the details, but the address change from the cushy Trumbull Street cabal of lawyers and therapists to the polluted waterfront hood of James Street reeks of financial distress. The space afforded by this lo-fi location allows for a small concert space amongst a sizable gallery for showcasing local art. The FIM fellas have been positively reviewed in this blog many times. At 116 gatherings, these noiseniks keep a steady schedule of improv performances in and around the New Haven area. Caleb Duval on standup bass, Luke Rovinsky on guitar, and Kaelen Ghandi on saxes are joined by Japanese percussion legend Nakatani. I arrive to the sound guy patching cords and setting up mics, apparently the performance will be recorded. After a lengthy sound check, the improv starts. Luke bends strings and warps sounds. Caleb uses a variety of kindling to capo the strings while using stabbing motion for a shrill sound. Ghandi’s yelps are punctuated with asmr whispering. Nakatani is the main attraction. His credits include stints with Eugene Chadbourne, Acid Mothers Temple, and Mary Halvorson. He has a standard drum kit with two large gongs. His playing is anything but standard, employing a variety of cymbals and shakers that he rubs and scrapes on the snare drum. He uses mallets, sticks, brushes, and bows to coax sound from all sides. Using the bow on the side of the cymbal while scraping the snare made this crazy metallic sound. He bowed the gongs and looked like he was slicing deli meat. The improv fills the room for the twenty brave souls who call this “music”. Based in Boston, Tatsuya travels the region spreading the free improv gospel.

Laraaji 4/4/26 Wesleyan University Memorial Chapel

 Ambient New Age mystic Laraaji stops in Middletown for an improv performance at this historic campus church. The altar has his setup of electric zither, dulcimer, piano, electronics, mbira, and several small bells. He is joined by his life partner Arji Oceananda who plays electronics and cloud bowls. The performance is put on by an outfit called Ambient Church who pair meditative musicians with trippy visuals in unusual venues. The performance starts with bells and cloud bowl, not unlike a yoga practice. Laraaji moves from zither to dulcimer to electronics weaving a tapestry of sound. Arji complements the sound with electronics and percussion of her own. The church became completely dark as the video appeared on the wall and ceiling behind the altar. Liquid visuals blobbed and oozed at lava lamp speed, which must be a thing for the synaptically challenged. Sun rays, repeating patterns, melting colorful swooshes were calming with the musical backdrop. Laraaji sang some wordless vocals then a full tune while playing some excellent piano. Born Edward Larry Gordon some 82 years ago, Laraaji spent many years busking in Washington Square Park. Legend has it that one park denizen was post-Roxy Music Brian Eno who took a shine to the Laraaji zitherin. Eno produced some early slabs and ran with the ambient concept for his own seminal Music For Films, Music For Airports among others. Laraaji is a sight, a light skinned black man who dresses exclusively in orange. Orange hat, orange shirt and pants, orange jewelry (last time I saw him and was able to view his feet, orange crocs). The card tables on the altar were also draped in orange fabric. This music gets a bad rap, syrupy improv background sounds that lack the bite in the jazz world. That is the point, music that subtly invades instead of melting one’s face. Excellent show of meditative music and visuals.

Sun of Goldfinger 4/3/26 Firehouse 12

 I was relegated to the second set as set one sold out in advance. Sun of Goldfinger is a jazz power trio consisting of veteran guitarist David Torn and sax wailer Tim Berne alongside relative newcomer Ches Smith on drums. The trio were warming up to record the following day. Torn and Berne inhabited the early days of Manfred Eicher’s ECM label. Torn, and his group Prezens explored the nexus of jazz and prog with effects laden and looped guitar work. Berne, and his Snakeoil project found success in free jazz blowing, like the 90s John Zorn groups. Ches Smith needs no introduction in this blog. He is a Firehouse staple and recent viewings of him with his Haitian big band and Mary Halvorsen groups have been excellent. Torn, with his long gray hair and beard, looked like a mad scientist Gandalf with a bevy of pedals to channel his sound. Berne, also grizzled with round glasses, looked like the Tootsie Pop owl crossed with Pharaoh Sanders. Ches is always fun to describe, lanky and in constant motion, he looked like a free jazz car dealer balloon man behind his kit. They played one long piece that flowed easily. Berne started out bird like squawking before settling into extended runs. He had a knack for repetitive phrasing that he would change slightly, like a game of “pass it down” with himself. He seemed genuinely in awe of the noises coming from the other two. Torn did appear to be the mad scientist, sometimes surprising himself with the treated sounds from his rig. At one point, he put the guitar on the floor and noodled from his knees. All guitarists have an inner shred function, Torn took one opportunity to unleash some fierce playing, lest we think he is all about pedals and knobs. Ches also took his “electronics” playing to the mix. In addition to his regular kit, he had a table with what looked to be a Simon ( the light up children’s memory toy), another box with a slide rule that emitted slurry electronic bleeps, and a small Moog. In a trio setting it was a treat to get a good view of his playing. The music was challenging, but to view these masters at work allows you to appreciate the skill needed for this racket.

Chuck Prophet and his Cumbia Shoes 3/29/26 The Kate, Old Saybrook

 Chuck Prophet has nine lives. It was news to me that this Bay Area rocker spent one in a health scare a few years back. I have been a fan since the early 2000s and count his No Other Love record from this period as a near perfect recording. He has always been a smartass, but community minded with his approach. At one Green Riverfest, Chuck enlisted a slew of local high school musicians to accompany his set. On this evening, he is joined by his “Cumbia Shoes”, a backing band fluent in the genre. Originally from Colombia, cumbia spread through Latin America and tickled the US southwest. The gist has a metronomic drumbeat, forward bass as a backdrop for guitar, pedal steel, or percussion workouts. The show leaned heavily on his 2024 release Wake The Dead. The setlist: C’Mon Everybody ( Eddie Cochran cover), Same Old Crime, Wake The Dead, Wish Me Luck, Cumbia de los Pajaritos (Los Mirlos cover), Jesus Was a Social Drinker, Betty’s Song, First Came The Thunder, Give The Boy a Kiss, Killing Machine, Sally Was a Cop ( co- written with Alejandro Escovedo),  In The Shadows ( for Elon) OneLie for Me, One For You, West Memphis Moon, Sugar Into Water, Ford Econoline ( “the best thing to come out of Detroit besides Iggy and The Stooges”),  You Did ( Bomp Shooby Dooby Bomp) and encored with the poignant heartfelt It’s A Good Day To Be Alive, and Wooly Bully ( Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs cover). The band had Chuck on electric and acoustic, Mario on percussion, drummer, bass, lead guitar ( sometimes pedal steel), and another multi instrumentalist who played guitar and keys. The sound was full for the largely gray haired, near capacity audience. Nine lives is a lot, glad that Chuck Prophet has a few more up his sleeve.

David Fiuczynski’s KiF 3/27/26 Firehouse 12

 David “FuZe” Fiuczynski is a downtown guitarist who cut his teeth on the maelstrom melting pot of the 90s Knitting Factory scene. Bending jazz, rock, improv, and prog to their polyglot notions of music was fascinating to watch as a young musical omnivore. FuZe starts the evening by explaining the KiF project. He was tapped to go to Morocco and play at a festival where he was part of a backing band for 40 local groups. Vocal groups, odd instruments, microtonal playing, proved to be mind blowing and challenging. Many musicians approached him to say “did you know that Hendrix stayed and performed here?” While he was not familiar with that part of Jimi’s life, he could not help but notice the impact the master made on these foreign musicians. What then if Hendrix was alive and moved forward with his love of this music, KiF and essentially rocking the casbah was formed. Dave plays the most unique guitar. Double-necked, double stringed, it’s essentially a small guitar fused to a normal sized one. With the addition of effects pedals, he could change the sound at will. He would play a passage on one, then seamlessly jump to the other, made me want to chat him up about Hendrix. He was joined this evening by a young asian woman on keys, six string (maybe fretless?) bass, and drums. The odd sounds and tunings from Dave were perfectly matched by the keyboards. One portion had the keys melodica sounding and Dave’s microtonal slurring transporting the listener to Marrakech. The rhythm section was tight, with the bass looking for a  jamband workout. The players were probably students of Dave, he heads up the MicroJam Institute for advanced microtonal studies at Berklee. The first set at the Firehouse had a nice near capacity crowd to see this master. The group rolls through some originals before jumping in to a King Gizzard and then a Mononeon cover.  Dave has passages that sound like Jean Luc Ponty followed by Zappa-esque runs. Closed with two jams Friday Night Prayer Meeting and Macro Magnificat. Glad to have the Firehouse back for the spring season.

Sam Wells 3/25/26 Wesleyan

 Trumpeter and electronics musician Wells is one third of the Philly based Splice Ensemble. They perform electro acoustic soundscapes that emphasize the integration of technology with musical performance.. Introduced by Uber nerd and Wesleyan prof Paula Mathussen, Sam takes the stage at the comfortable Ring Family Auditorium. He performs his piece “Pillors and Strata” written in 2024. Sam went to a place called the Tank Center in Rangley Colorado. Abandoned large metal tanks that were used in the steam engine industry were the perfect location for Sam to experiment with sound. The Pillors piece was birthed in a 90’ by 20’ metal cylinder, with literally no flat surfaces, the echo would last for almost a minute. He played trumpet and an odd looking flugel with a variety of straight and cup mutes. The sound was computer looped to approximate the tank echo. Sam said the high plains desert location of the tank center was experiencing high winds on his rental day. Instead of ditching the project, Sam embraced the background hum from the wind. Imagine walking on the moon with Miles Davis and you’ll get the picture. Tones looped and processed made for a heady stew of modern composition. I am always amazed at the level of creativity in music, playing one’s trumpet in a desolate large metal Tylenol capsule is a new one on me.

Cass McCombs 3/20/26 Spaceland

 A personally viral ear worm has taken over my playlist. You know the type, a random addition occasionally shuffles its way to the top and gives a mainline hit to your smile bone. The Cass McCombs 2023 single “Vacation From Thought” is one such worm. Upon inspection, it appears to be a one-off collaboration with an unknown band named Weak Signal. That song was enough to get me off the couch for this Friday night performance. Cass is a quirky singer songwriter from California who has been churning out under the radar nuggets since the early aughts. On this evening, Cass and band high light the recent recording Interior Live Oak. The setlist: Priestess, Miss Mabee, Asphodel, A Girl Named Dogie, Home At Last, Missionary Bell, Harmonia, Peace, I Never Dream About Trains, Your Mother and Father, Big Wheel, Music is Blue, I’m Not Ashamed, Bum Bum Bum, Sleeping Volcanoes and encored with County Line and Sacred Heart. The band was excellent, lead guitar, lefty bass, drummer, and occasional pedal steel. Cass started on electric and stretched out the slow burn of A Girl Named Dogie to excellent effect. He switched to acoustic and  performed the beautiful Missionary Bell. One further move had Cass doing a few tunes on keys. You don’t call yourself a touring musician for twenty years without attention to concert detail, and Cass controlled a beautiful arc. Soft ballads, slow building jammers, off beat lyrics made for an enjoyable show. One of the best tribute recordings in recent memory is the mammoth Day of The Dead (Grateful Dead) recording arranged by uber-hipsters The National. The sprawling release is a Who’s Who of indie rockers and hippie jammers. Cass has the coveted spot of performing Dark Star with none other than Joe Russo. The moral of the story is trust your ears, and the worms that may inhabit them.

Yale Percussion Popup 3/7/26 Peabody Museum

 Is it stalking if two consecutive posts in this blog describe the same group? No, if the vibe and venue are as disparate as these. The Yale Percussion Group rolled their marimbas up the street to the recently refurbished Peabody Museum. I am somewhat ashamed to say that it has taken me two years to visit this gem. As a child, I had many field trips here, and my interest in science was certainly incubated. The museum focuses on natural history, with dinosaur displays as its strong suit. The music took place in the majestic Burke Hall of Dinosaurs (no relation). I enter to the soothing ambient vibraphone of one student playing the half hour long composition Ouroboros. The mallet work was exquisite and the metallic tones had a wonderful sustain that was emphasized by the dimensions of the great hall. The hall has to be monstrous to house full skeletal renderings of T. rex, stegosaurus, and the centerpiece a complete brontosaurus. The Peabody attracts young families, the children ooh and aah at the dinosaurs, the sheer size of which gets the kids minds racing. I wander the hall to the strains of the solo vibraphone. Glad to have renewed my visits to this New Haven jewel while watching adventurous music. What goes around comes around, science, music, The Peabody…..and me.

Yale Percussion Group 2/27/26 Sprague Hall

 Billed as a send off for storied Yale professor Martin Bresnick, the winter YPG concert is must-see viewing for any music fan in the New Haven area. Free, open to the public, the concert must take place at Sprague Hall due to the size of the instrumentation. Huge grand piano, no less than six xylophones, marimbas,  drum kits, the evening is a delightful mash of music and performance art. Bresnick is in the same club as Glass, Reich, and Adams,  where the music is modern classical as shot through the YPG lens. The first piece was Bresnick’s 2007 composition Caprichos Enfaticos. A concerto in 8 movements, it was commissioned for Australian pianist Lisa Moore and the world famous So Percussion group. The work was inspired by Francisco Goya’s book of etchings Los Desastres de la Guerra, fitting for our time. The movements are titled “farandula” or “farandole” which was a chain dance popular in Provence. The show starts with Moore coming out and playing a xylophone sequence, the four students appear one by one and seamlessly push the chain forward. Moving from one side of the xylophone, pushed to the opposite side, pushed to a drum kit, Moore finally landed at the piano bench, her perch for the piece. The movements were fascinating with piano as counterpoint to the student banging. Drums, shakers, even a long tubular bell were expertly struck. Goya’s images were projected on the large screen to lend context to the farandula. The (translated) names of the movements also invoked context. The “ravages of war” movement had Moore playing a peaceful melody that was interrupted by the militaristic squall from the drummers. The  “ politician-against the common good” movement starred whistles and shakers that emphasized politicians as jesters. At the junction of each movement, the players froze for about 10 seconds, mid strike or plink as the case may be. The audience, fearful for clapping out of turn,  also froze. A wonderful composition that had Bresnick coming to the stage for applause was expertly delivered by the group and it’s commisionee. After the intermission, YPG director and Bresnick cohort Robert van Sice takes the mic. The next segment was called “A Bouquet of Surprises for Martin”. Apparently van Sice reached out to contemporaries to compose farewell minis for the event. Five short pieces were introduced by van Sice with stories of their Bresrelevance. One piece, by David Lang, had two marimbists interlocking an arm so that their one mallet was striking in front of the other player. It was mesmerizing from my stage right seat, I caught the students chuckling about their reach and proximity. van Sice, too, beamed from his stool, as if the shrooms were about to kick in. Another piece was composed by one of the students, Kyle Rappe, who seems to be heir apparent at Yale. The final flower was by colleague and New Music New Haven director Aaron Jay Kernis. A Grammy and Pulitzer Prize winner, Kernis came out with a choir of students to add to the YPG. He conducted his piece that was a riot of percussion and voice about the family cat. The final piece of the evening was Hallelujah Junction by celebrated American composer John Adams. Adams’ work has the expansive feel of Copland, and this piece was originally written for two pianos. Transposed for the group by Bresnick protege Doug Perry, the YPG reveled in its execution. My annual glowing review of this event is a bright light in a dark month.

Instantiations 2/15/26 Real Art Ways, Hartford

 We’ve established that local guitar hero and educator Joe Morris is a higher order thinker. He teaches at the distinguished New England Conservatory and wrangles a monthly jazz series formerly known as Improv Now. Joe changed the name to Instantiations which requires some Websterin. Turns out that instantiations refers to “the act of representing an abstract concept with a concrete example.” The music is certainly concrete, but covered in the abstract. Today’s offering had Morris on guitar, Adam Matlock on accordion, Diane Buetner on clarinet and bass clarinet, and Yoona Kim on ajaeng (a bowed zither from Korea). Regional improv masters, this crew fashioned a heady stew of sounds. The mix of instrumentation was fascinating. Morris quietly squiggled, Matlock could sustain a note indefinitely, Buetner’s bass clarinet gave a cartoonish vibe, and the ajaeng emitted a wide array of sounds. At the start of the set, Joe mentions that next month he will receive a lifetime achievement award at New York’s Vision Festival. Adventurous music for a wintry a Sunday afternoon.

Meshell Ndegeocello No More Water- The Gospel of James Baldwin 2/6/26 Sprague Hall

 Grammy winning electric bassist Ndegeocello presents a wonderful Baldwin tribute as part of the Ellington Jazz Series. The show was highly anticipated and was sold out months in advance. As the first woman to be featured on the cover of Bass Player Magazine, Meshell is an uncompromising artist that refuses to be pigeonholed. An in-demand bass player, she has played with a wide array of artists including The Rolling Stones, Madonna,  James Blood Ulmer, The Blind Boys of Alabama, and Chaka Khan. Her projects include works related to Sun Ra, Nina Simone, and on this evening James Baldwin. A pivotal voice in the Civil Rights Movement, Baldwin’s work seems just as pertinent in 2026. The show kicks off with an opening set by Jake and Abe. As part of Meshell’s band, Jake Sherman on organ and Abraham Rounds on drums played some cuts from their new album Finally, aptly named by Meshell cuz it took forever to be released. After some light opening tunes, the meat of the tomato ensued. Meshell, Jake, and Abe were joined by vocalist Justin Hicks and guitarist Christopher Bruce. Baldwin’s visceral take on the plight of African Americans is on full display. Meshell would read or recite some passages from a paper that resembled a newspaper. At one point, the page she held up read “I can’t believe what you say, because I see what you do”. Topical in today’s information- rich but truth-deficient times. Vocalist Hicks had a wonderful haunting style that brought me to tears at several points. The interplay of male and female voice is always compelling, Justin and Meshell were no exception. I did not spend time with the recording prior to the show and was blown away by the performance. Songs like Travel, The Price of the Ticket, What Did I Do? , and Trouble were expertly delivered. For one tune Hatred, she quietly chanted  “ hatred, that which causes so much destruction, never fails to destroy the one who hates”, we can only hope. Disdain for “the other” is a well worn thread through our society, and Baldwin’s observations ring so true today. I notice that this group will soon be heading to Minneapolis, warriors on the current battle of love versus hate.

Patrick Bartley Quartet w/ YUJC 1/31/26 Sudler Hall at Yale

 The Yale Undergraduate Jazz Collective is a loose assemblage of well connected jazzbos that flex for an annual festival. Usually held in the spring, this one took over the final weekend of the longest month of the year. I’ve seen such luminaries as Randy Weston (at Toads!), Dave Holland, Jason Moran. Recently, the emphasis has been on emerging talent, young lions so to speak. Nate Smith and Kinfolk, Dezron Douglas, and this years offering, Patrick Bartley are all new to the scene.

The afternoon show starts with a set by the students. Piano, bass, guitar, drums, clarinet, and dueling saxes made up the septet. A disparate group of nerds might birth a future lion, more likely a behind the scenes, Yale-educated, inhabitant of the music teaching or business world. A capacity crowd at Sudler enjoys their offering.

The beauty of highlighting emerging talent is to see new directions in jazz. Dezron Douglas shared the stage with Phish and Patrick Bartley has the notion of fusing video game music with jazz. A self-deprecating intro has Bartley describing his slacker youth as a video game obsessed anti-student. His suffering grades would inhibit entry to such a prestigious school but, here he is. He polls the audience as to their familiarity with video games. 62 year old me is in the minority, with absolutely zero knowledge or interest in the genre. The set is fascinating as the quartet blows through Pokémon, Mario, Zelda, Final Fantasy, and others. Having no baseline for the tunes, I am pleasantly surprised by how complex the renditions are. Mario has a distinct tradjazz feel while Final Fantasy feels like a film score. The other players were also jazz visionaries. William Schwartzman on piano, Wallace Stelzer on bass, and Dom Palombi on drums capably handled their roles. Turns out that Patrick is Grammy-nominated and has played with Wynton Marsalis, Jon Batiste, Emmet Cohen, Herbie Hancock, and Carole King. Lead jazz nerd seemed Asian-American and met up with Patrick in Japan, a hotbed of video game music I assume. There has always been a push-pull relationship between tradition and the notion of “music” with jazz roots. I am happy for the existence of the YUJC who continually shine a light towards the future.

Frederic Acquaviva and Kombat Diva 1/28/26 The Institute Library

 The Institute Library, established in 1826, is the oldest membership library in the US. Occupying a second and third floor of a lower Chapel street address, the IL is not easy to find. With no real sign, one must trust one’s own wits, entering to a stairway with a meek placard that says “we’re open”. On this block, we’re open could have led me to a hair braiding or yoga studio. Happy to enter the library, a long thin space with floor to ceiling shelves of books that ends in a comfortable reading room. The incredulous librarian takes my entry fee while feebly trying to explain the “music” that is about to happen. “I see plenty of weird shit” I explain while finding a chair amongst the 30 brave souls who thought it would be a good idea to leave the couch on this sub zero evening. The self taught Acquaviva is a prolific artist on the underground experimental music scene. He works on the notion of “oxymoron” and the intersection of voice and computer editing which includes video, text, or livestreams. Lore Lixenberg is a mezzo-soprano sound artist that performs under the moniker of Kombat Diva. The performance is choreographed by Frederic who remains hidden amongst the books. The show starts with Lixenberg rolling her suitcase through the crowd. The Doppler of the rolling casters clanking over threadbare carpet and hardwood is mesmerizing. She settles in front of the audience and performs a series of skits that were numbered “musicas”. Seems that Acquaviva has created a work called 120 Musicas, small vignettes that use found sounds or music. I should have been tipped off when Lixenberg starts the sequence by stating “ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight’s performance. We ask that you turn your cellphones……On, for the duration of the show”. She starts with some passages of yelping, high pitched squealing, and other vocalizing. She pulls out her phone and wanders the room taking selfies with the audience while sticking her tongue out and blowing raspberries. At one point, Elton John’s Rocket Man plays loudly while she reads a biographic passage of Wagner. Then Wagner plays while she reads a biographic passage of Elton John. She polls the audience if they have any “musical allergies”. Country music, bagpipes, death metal, the open minded attendees found joy in explaining their allergies. She finds one audience member and coaxes some bills from her wallet. She proceeds to crumple and fold the money in close proximity to the woman’s face creating her own personal performance. After a short set break, the lights are turned low and Kombat Diva emerges, dressed in a sequined Sun Ra frock and head dress. Her head gear is made from CDs strapped together to completely shroud her face. This is her piece called Panic Room. She roams the audience and sticks her shrouded face at people asking if they are “panicked”. She does this in operatic tones which adds to the surreality. She asks me if I am panicked, to which I reply “no”. “Why not?” This is normal for me, I reply. She settles on Martha Willette Lewis, Institute Librarian and local DJ on the fiercely independent WPKN. Martha joins Kombat Diva up front and proceeds to be psychoanalyzed by the opera singing figure. Trippy video backdrop has a calming effect for this panic room. As I exit the performance, I encounter the librarian and tell him his lack of description of the performance hit the nail on the head, it was truly indescribable.

Kayodot w/ Tongue Depressor 1/8/26 Space Ballroom

 Local string wranglers Henry Birdsey and Zach Rowden form the duo known asTongue Depressor.  Zach bowed a standup bass while Henry played some sort of bagpipe. I asked local scenester and instrument aficionado Adam Matlock for a ruling on the pipes and he thought North Umbrian Pipes. The pipes are perfectly suited for instrumental drone music. The bowed bass had swoops and scrapes, while the pipes could sustain a note indefinitely. They played one long song. Henry usually plays fiddle but must have gotten the pipes for Christmas.

NYC outfit Kayodot has been around for years. I remember seeing them in the back room at Bar in the early aughts. Led by bassist/ vocalist Toby Driver, the lineup seems to have evolved. Keyboard player also played clarinet and sax, fiddle player also played trumpet, guitar, and in your face prog drumming rounded out the quintet. The music was a muddy prog metal mix with Driver’s vocals often distorted. I previewed the recent release and it had some sections with aggro death metal vocals. Towards the end of the set, a bald, leather panted biker hops on stage to supply the growl. The problem with being a genre defying group is that the sound often gets lost in the schizophrenia.