John Zorn’s Flatlands 9/4/26 Firehouse 12

 Billed as a “special event” and not the premiere of the Fall series, Zorn’s current project Flatlands takes the stage. A power trio in the true sense had Matt Hollenberg on electric guitar, Simon Hanes on electric bass, and Ches Smith on drums. John Zorn, an avant renaissance man, observed the proceedings from a stool near the sound board. A pillar of the downtown music scene of the late 80s and 90s, John Zorn was a sax wailer in the vein of Pharoah Sanders or Albert Ayler. His restless spirit provided early recordings paying homage to the likes of Mickey Spillane and Ennio Morricone. He founded Tzadik records dedicated to “radical Jewish music” which, in today’s world, sounds like a “defund the police” level misnomer blunder. The label has provided him a cadre of talented young free thinkers jumping at the chance to be conducted. Ditching the sax, Zorn has taken the route of conducting the next generation to carry out his wide ranging musical ideas. One of my favorites from John’s early canon is the Naked City record, a whiplash of ideas that runs the gamut from slinky lounge music to head banging hardcore. He even hung out with the hardcore stalwarts Napalm Death to sponge ideas. It is with this mindset that Flatlands takes shape. The trio march through a series of blasts that threaten the eardrums of the sold out crew of listeners. Let’s start with Ches Smith, a firehouse regular, I’ve described him as a used car lot ballon man on drums and my assessment holds. In this setting, he is prodded to unleash behind the kit. I’m not familiar with Hollenberg or Hanes, but they both seem to be rooted in metal. The music is a barrage of calculated racket that is fascinating to view. The trio’s ability to start and stop on a dime was miraculous. You can’t be in Zorn’s stable without ability to play all styles. These guys easily shifted from shards of metal to choogling funk for a face melting experience. Hanes cajoled Zorn to come up front to “conduct” a piece. His conducting included non-traditional hand gestures like roller coaster or thumbs up or downing the trio. Their wide-eyed attention emphasized their virtuosity and shone a light on just how difficult this music is to play. The Firehouse may need to install seatbelts, this ride made the Cyclone blush.

Strawberry Hands w/ The Regal Drug 8/26/26 Best Video

 Local ambient act The Regal Drug was playing when I enter. The brain child of Scott Amore, it was a trio on this evening. Scott played laptop and synths, another musician played guitar and sax, while another played guitar and trumpet. The music was ambient drone, Scott’s table was a tangle of patch cords that looked like a George Clinton wig. The sax guitarist played an electric 12 string with an unusual hand held object that looked like a cordless Norelco. I was told the item was an E-bow, it sends a magnetic pulse to the strings to force the sound. The trumpet too had a Mark Isham feel, almost cinematic. Safe to assume any show with RD will take you on a sonic excursion.

Strawberry Hands is a psychedelic quartet from the Philly area.  Lead guitar, drums,  bass, and front man on acoustic and vocals. The singer was a big fella with poorly constructed pigtails who explained they almost missed the gig. His car was smashed the previous evening, his dog sitter was awol, and he popped a crown off his tooth. They did seem genuinely happy to play. Often, when we think of psychedelic music, it’s virtuosic noodling punctuated with obtuse lyrics. Pink Floyd had the perfect mix of noodlyrics, while someone like Robyn Hitchcock leans heavier on wordplay. SH followed that lead, with lines like “ogre patina” and “obsidian ax” ( and those were just the ones that started with O). The trap is keeping the listener focused and not checking vocabulary. Strawberry Hands achieves the focus with shock lines like “don’t fucking tell me that the future is good”. Strawberry Hands occupy an interesting niche in the world of psychedelic music.

Derek Piotr 8/21/26 Ely Center

 New Ely center welcomes regional knob twiddler Piotr for a dj set. Light crowd of about ten occupy the darkened modern art gallery. Derek is a folklorist, researcher and performer whose work focuses on the human voice. He is the lead archivist and creative director of something called Fieldwork Archive. Armed with a laptop on one pedestal and a synth box with a tangle of patch cords on another, Derek goes to work. First piece has some bird samples mixed with some metallic backdrop drones, Derek too supplied some wordless vocal cooing. Next piece had some early political banter, slightly obscured stretched out over some mechanical whooshes. Next up, was a recording of a friends mom’s recollection of southern gospel tunes. Another piece had Derek splicing voice mail messages he received from his grandmother during the last ten years of her life. The material was fascinating, a modern day Alan Lomax. Spotify Derek and you’ll see he has recordings dating back to 2010. He also takes part in some fringe festivals that showcase modern field recordings. He has collaborated with the likes of avant Appalachian banjo picker Nathan Salsburg. Happy to be one of ten for this highly original music,

Mariposa Galacticos 8/12/26 Cafe 9

 Lesbian fronted klezmer cumbia from Philly had a riot going on at the 9. Note to the concert going public, if there are more than six people in the band at Cafe 9, you probably want to see what’s happening. Lovely mashup of two distinctive styles was expertly delivered by three female musicians backed by male accordionist, bass, drums, and guitar. Seven musicians were in constant motion. Were the ladies gay? Who cares, I will say the crowd was homophilic. The show was in support of local nonprofit Red Sin Fronteras, an organization that supports migrant women and survivors of violence of indigenous origin. Mariposa Galacticos blends punkified ancient Jewish melodies with Andean cumbia for a stew that spans different languages, cultures, and genres. All three women sang, one played clarinet, one played sax, and the other strummed a rhythm guitar. The show started with a cool warmup exercise that had all band members making a variety of bird or animal sounds. Played an excellent rendition of Cumbia Nagila which showcased the ease at which the styles could be melded. The ladies were jacked, with dancer bodies, they had the crowd moving. At one point, the clarinetist hops off stage and snakes through the crowd pied pipering a dance line that was all smiles. Being from Philly, they felt obliged to play the Rocky theme in a dubbed out cumbia. One song was described as a traditional Jewish tune of mindfulness where “ yesterday is gone, tomorrow has yet to happen, so be in the present”. This band was unapologetically political and their message of community emphasized the unity.

Newport Jazz Festival 7/31/26 Fort Adams Park

 Recent years have me picking a day to attend this storied festival. First year organizer, the drummer Nate Smith, has taken the reins from the tireless bass phenom Christian McBride and like any good rhythm section, hasn’t skipped a beat. The emphasis on contrasting the old guard with new directions was on full display for this year’s Friday lineup. A Thursday deluge made the concert field a little spongey with a whiff of wet hay but did not deter the audience or performers.

Chicago Underground Duo: While this name could describe any pair from the Windy City’s current fertile scenes, I was happy to learn that it is Rob Mazurek on trumpet and electronics with drum wunderkind Chad Taylor. I’m familiar with Rob’s work with his Exploding Star Orchestra, kind of a trumpet fueled Henry Threadgill affair. Taylor is an in-demand session drummer. The music had blasts of trumpet alternating with the electronics backed by the constant motion drumming. Good start of the day on the main stage.

Angine de Poitrine: One of the reasons to pick the Friday was to get a glimpse of viral sensation ADP. An anonymous duo from Quebec, they consist of Khn de Poitrine on custom double neck guitar-bass and cohort Klek de Poitrine on drums. Khn is dressed in white with black polka dots, masked with long blonde hair, a long tubular “nose” and a large upside down triangular hat. Klek’s garb is black with white polka dots. His (her, their?) mask looks like the “none shall pass” knight from Monty Python’s Holy Grail affixed with a swinging phallic proboscis. They emerge from a polka dot curtain at the back of the stage just as a tsunami of hipsters rushes the stage. The mystique and viral nature of their popularity has them instantly selling out venues in Europe and both coasts of the US. The music is loud, frenetic, and microtonal. Khn’s double fret boards are tricked out to allow notes between notes, microtonal. Klek is in constant motion giving a crazy view of the swinging dongschnozz. They don’t sing, but had some alien robotic chatter between songs. Khn can totally shred, making full use of a wide array of effects pedals in addition to the custom guitar. The music leaned in a decidedly prog direction invoking a communal crowd bounce that I haven’t witnessed since the punk or early grunge days. It was fun to watch the crowd, some ran for cover, some were resigned to the square peg ethos of the jazz evolution all while the rabid hipsters were hoping that Khn and Klek could liberate them from the current dumpster fire state of affairs, if only for an hour on a Friday, at Newport. My descriptions seem inadequate, so please google this duo for an accurate representation of their otherworldliness.

Anoushka Shankar: Skipped the end of ADP to make it to the fort stage for renaissance woman Anoushka Shankar. Daughter of master sitarist Ravi and half sister to smooth crooner Norah Jones, to say Anoushka grew up around musical greatness is an understatement. Ravi was vital to George Harrison’s Concert for Bangladesh, arguably the first assemblage to use rock music as a vehicle for societal change. Anoushka grew up in London and assumed her father’s place as in-demand sitarist. Absorbing the traditional music and fusing it with modern electronic beats she forged a new path. Film scores, under the radar dance and techno appearances ensued. Her playing was all over the recent Gorillaz release, The Mountain. Her Newport set was a nice mixture of old and new. Happy to see the sitar up close.

Charles Lloyd and the Sky Quartet: The veteran sax and flute master is joined by pianist Jason Moran, Larry Grenadier bass, and Kweku Sumbry on drums. Lloyd has had a long an industrious career. At 88 years young, he is one of the last connections to the likes of Chico Hamilton, Gabor Szabo, and Cannonball Adderly. His 1966 crossover hit Forest Flower drew praise from the rock world and landed him on stages with Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, and The Grateful Dead. Tax troubles forced him to Europe where he cemented his greatness with an amazing string of releases on Manfred Eicher’s  ECM label. His set was beautiful as he toggled from sax to flute. This man does not appear to be 88, his social media postings are lessons in positivity, he seems to be living his best life.

Leon Thomas: Soul rocker Leon Thomas has his hands in many things. Production, collaboration with many current pop stars. On this day, his birthday, he decided to shred on guitar. Nice set on the fort stage. We ducked out before the final sets for the day which made us miss a dusk rain squall. Once again a wide and varied day of music, thanks to new organizer Nate Smith.

Lyle Lovett w/ Hayes Carll 7/22/26 College Street Music Hall

 Entered the venue to the sounds of the lanky southerner Carll. Hayes has been positively reviewed in this blog before. His warm drawl wrapped around insightful country folk numbers. He has a wry sense of humor that creeps up on you. Heard some good ones from his catalog, Drunken Poet’s Dream, Good People (Thank Me), Making Amends. Hayes seems to have young kids and they are a source of songwriting inspiration.

Lyle Lovett had a string of excellent records in the 90s that cemented me as a fan. Large Band, Joshua Judges Ruth, I Love Everybody, and Step Inside This House stick out as jam packed offerings. His band on this evening had longtime cohort Matt Rawlings on piano, female singer, lead guitar, sax ( and clarinet), and the legendary rhythm section of Leland Sklar on bass, and Russ Kunkel on drums. The setlist was good: The Blues Walk, If I Were The Man You Wanted, Stand By Your Man, She’s Already Made Up Her Mind, Pants Is Overrated,  It’s A Naked Party, Cowboy Man, LA Freeway and Family Reserve ( with Hayes), Penguins, She’s No Lady, Creeps Like Me, LA County,  Nobody Knows Me, I’ve Been to Memphis, If I Had A Boat, and North Dakota. Despite getting on in years, Lyle is a master of the deadpan Steven Wright stage banter. We learn that he wrote Penguins to poke fun at a friend for over-penguinning her apartment only to be cursed by having to play it constantly. His delivery labored a bit at times but he continues to make me smile.

El Khat w/ The Dharma Bums 7/21/26 Cafe 9

 Tireless local trumpeter Nick DiMaria plays often at any and all venues around town. As lead wrangler for The New Haven Jazz Underground, he is an integral part of our scene. Not just a jazzman, his interest spans the globe. Cue up The Dharma Bums, Nick’s group that plays the music of Jamaica’s Skatlalites. The Skatalites are still active and were the Jamaican equivalent of the Wrecking Crew, backing ska and reggae acts. Nick is joined by standup bass, trombone, and drums. The sound is full and a good approximation of the ska beat. Not sure how the Kerouac reference applies, but I was happy to get a rare glimpse of the genre.

El Khat is a trio of musicians from Yemen by way of Tel Aviv who now reside in Berlin. Named for the drug widely chewed across the Arab peninsula, the band forges original compositions inspired by traditional Yemeni music. The leader is Eyal El Wahab, a true multi-instrumentalist who plays things of his own design. With names like dli and kearat, Wahab makes instruments from items people discard. The repurposed sound holds true to its musical roots. On this evening, only two people are on stage. Wahab explains that their drummer needed to go home for a family emergency but that they will compensate and soldier on. Singing in their native tongue, they cruise through their set. They seem unfazed by being down a man. The other musician plays a variety of keyboards and percussion. Because they were seated and the 9 was packed to capacity, it was difficult to see the variety of instruments. At one point, the other musician hops into the crowd and leads a  traditional Yemeni dance that dates back some 600 years. The decidedly uncoordinated New Haven audience joins the dance in a true smash of cultures. I have read that El Khat’s left leaning audience has trouble squaring the possibility of an Arab Jew. Get over it I say. This group makes beautiful traditional music with a modern flair. As I was leaving, I heard one patron say “ and they said they were missing a drummer!”

James Limerick Kerr 7/17/26 Best Video

 James Limerick Kerr is a guitar wizard from New Haven. Currently a professor at Northampton’s Smith College, one couldn’t help but notice the guitar nerdiness worn on his sleeve. The guitar for the first half of the performance was an unusual custom 7-string. Allowing for more bass and a larger neck for fret tapping, the songs had a Keller Williams meets Christopher Parkening (read hippie vs. classical) vibe. His record Seven Smiling Strings is an homage to the instrument. He plays several in this style: Clear Slate for All, The Lifeline and the Castaway, and The Messenger from Afar. While discussing the difficulty in odd tunings, he describes his recent release where he transcribes lute compositions of the 16th century Italian composer Simone Molinaro for rendering on the 7 string. Molinaro was almost relegated to trash can icon of history before being discovered by a New England guitar prodigy half a world and centuries apart, thanks internet. These songs oozed the renaissance lute and I’m sure were a bitch to transpose for play on the 7-string. He played a tremolo heavy composition then moved into something he called Gallup Study 1 or as he puts it “Iron Maiden Visiting a Spanish Village”. For the last third of the set, he picks up a Dobro or resonator guitar. I could have googled this, but better to have a legit guitar prof explain that the Dobro was the creation of the of Slovak immigrant John Dopyera and his brothers in the late twenties. They fashioned an outward facing metal cone that allowed for pre-pedal echo and sustain that was popular among blues musicians and the American south. The instrument is often played face up with with a bottle neck or slide (thanks to the Ballad of Curtis Lowe). He stays with the geography and plays Package of Peaches, Hay Barn in the Rain, and Bluegrass 511. Closed with the only tune with vocals, a heart wrenching version of the Blind Willie McTell number “Momma Taint Long For Day”. Beautiful guitar music again.

Patterson Hood and Craig Finn 7/14/26 Spaceland

 Two established front men ditched their bands for a short tour called The Devil is in the Details. Patterson has been the mastermind of The Drive By Truckers for some 20 years, Craig has the same position in The Hold Steady. Both bands have cult status and a decent catalog to pull from. From the stage banter, we learn that Craig was a DBT groupie from the jump, resorting to stalking Patterson after a Conan O’Brien appearance. They trade off tunes, each on an acoustic, with a multi-instrumentalist friend Ben Macklin also on stage. Ben plays keys, sax, flute, clarinet, even subtle percussion to help the proceedings. The setlist pulls from both bands and some solo material: The Forks of Cypress, Bethany, Two Daughters and a Beautiful Wife, The Righteous Path, People of Substance, Crumbs, Uncle Disney, Pinocchio, Easter Weekend, Shamrock, Palomino, Miss Coldiron’s Oldsmobile, The Van Pelt Parties, Heathens, Mission Viejo, Magic Marker, (I Never Heard of) Emmett Till, Newmyer’s Roof, Grand Canyon, encored with The Company I Keep and Certain Songs. Craig said The Hold Steady was trying to be the Drive By Truckers of the north. The subject matter of Patterson’s songs came from his life experiences growing up in Alabama. His easy drawl was an added bonus. Craig’s tunes were more story-like, it made sense that he was hawking a novel he wrote. These two have years of arena crowds under their belts, they seemed happy to get back to the close interaction of a club like Spaceland.

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.