FTW, 12.3.2022

It's been a real interesting year, this 2022. Aside from the news cycle -- Snowpocalypse/Roe/Uvalde, somewhat mitigated by midterm results everywhere but here (Texas), with the prospect of a couple of years of Repub-majority House obstruction/bogus investigations ahead -- it's been a year of loss and illness, mitigated by a handful of things:

1) The development of some infrastructure for creative music here in North Texas, in venues like The Wild Detectives and Texas Theater in Dallas, Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studio in Denton, and The Grackle Art Gallery in Fort Worth. The efforts of Sarah Ruth Alexander, Ernesto Montiel, Aaron and Stefan Gonzalez, Kavin Allenson, and Justin "Hush Puppy" Robertson are instrumental in this. While I haven't caught all the shows I wanted to this year (besides my own health drama, Covid's still with us, no matter how hard folks try to pretend it's not, and hospitals are overflowing with flu and RSV patients), the ones I've caught, mainly at the Grackle because it's near and early, have been inspiring. (Fave Grackle shows: local prog eminences Bill Pohl, Kurt Rongey, and Mark Cook improvising fully formed compositions faster than I can think, and peripatetic folk-punker Hamell On Trial releasing all the pent-up vitriol and bile I've been saving since November 2016, among other emotions.) This past Friday I got to hear bassist Drew Phelps and guitarist Gregg Prickett's filigree improv stitching on an ECM-ish exploration, a ballad, and a mutated swing number in between sets of haunting vocal-and-guitar wonderment from Kate Fisher and the debut of the Dwellers -- the Texan edition of Gabrielle Douglas's Vermont-based "lady band" with Tamara Cauble and Katie Robertson -- whose incandescent vocal harmonies eventually won out over the idiosyncratic house PA. Gregg's got an improv duo with former Kessler Theater sound wizard Paul Quigg that I'd dig to hear. 

2) The Linda Lindas appeared on my radar via an NPR video, posted on Facebook, of the LA-based quartet playing a song called "Racist, Sexist Boy" at their city's public library. It seemed the topical anthem the Covid moment demanded (in the wake of attacks on Asians, spurred by clown Hitler's "China virus" trope), but they were even better than that. I love their Asian-Latina heritage; their pop sense; their punk energy (channeling foremothers like Go-Gos and Bikini Kill); their songs about their cats, Sandra Oh, and the Japanese-America character from The Babysitters Club; and the fact they've done PSAs for water conservation and voting (although only one of them is old enough to have cast a ballot in the recent midterms). Sure, their folks are music biz insiders, but they write their own tunes, and appear to be having a blast playing big gigs all over (when school's out). I hope people their own age dig 'em as much as I do, and that they can keep rockin' as long as they want to.

3) Canadian pianist-composer Kris Davis has been a favorite at la casa since I heard her Clean Feed sides a decade-plus ago. This year she's Grammy-nominated for her side musician work on Terry Lynn Carrington's New Standards Vol. 1 (imagine a Real Book of works by women composers), and her own label Pyroclastic has released noteworthy albums by Patricia Brennan (a favorite here; an exciting new voice on vibraphone leads a percussion quartet that draws on Mexican and Afro-Cuban folkloric influences, with no shortage of melody), ex-Mr. Bungle bassist Trevor Dunn, and longtime Mary Halvorson drummer Ches Smith (with Bill Frisell using his pedals like it was 1985 again). But the high point of my listening year was the week when in February producer extraordinaire David Breskin curated six nights of duo performances at the Nasher Sculpture Center during the museum's Harry Bertoia exhibition. For each of these evenings, world-class improvisers performed together and interacted with Bertoia's sounding sculptures. While the guitar night with Nels Cline and Ben Monder was more viscerally exciting (my sculptor buddy Mark called it "jazz Viking rage") and the acoustic instruments night with Jen Shyu and Brandon Seabrook more subtle, the final night with Davis and fellow pianist Craig Taborn was the most sublime, characterized by the kind of deep listening and in-the-moment response that comes from having played together since 2016. Then the following night in Fort Worth, Davis and Taborn brought their duo Octopus to the Modern Art Museum, playing new original works as well as interpretations of Ronald Shannon Jackson compositions. All of the shows were recorded by Breskin's longtime associate Ron Saint Germain and the Nasher events were also filmed, so there'll be opportunities for those who weren't there to share the experience.

4) Finnish label TUM Records completed its release of six albums, totaling 23 CDs, in celebration of the eminent trumpeter-composer Wadada Leo Smith's 80th birthday. A product of Chicago's Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, Smith's maturity has seen a surge of creativity, starting with 2012's Ten Freedom Summers, characterized by big works with themes that celebrate the freedom struggles and musical heritage of the composer's times. String Quartets Nos. 1-12 includes works composed between 1965 and 2011, performed by musicians (primarily RedKoral Quartet) who coalesced around Smith during his decade teaching at the California Institute of the Arts. The Emerald Duets pairs Smith with four highly individuated drummers -- Han Bennink, Jack DeJohnette, Andrew Cyrille, and Pheeroan akLaff -- performing compositions and improvisations including three different takes on Smith's "The Patriot Act: Unconstitutional and a Force that Destroys Democracy." The capstone on an event of the decade.

5) I first noticed NYC-based guitarist-composer Max Kutner putting a distinctive spin on Frank Zappa's repertoire with the Grandmothers of Invention at the Kessler a few years back. He's since toured with the reunited Captain Beefheart's Magic Band. This year he had two noteworthy digital releases. Android Trio's Imaginary Numbers finds Kutner and bandmates Andy Niven and Eric Klerks (both also ex-Magic Band) in fusion power trio mode, a nice contrast with their previous release Other Worlds on Cuneiform, which emphasized their progressive rock side and prominently featured guest musicians like '88 Zappa alum Mike Keneally. Recorded with legendary engineer Martin Bisi, High Flavors features a jazz-inflected quartet playing a program of Kutner originals that span jazz, avant-rock, free improv and noise, with a surprising amount of humor. It's Kutner's most comprehensive statement to date. 

6) I first got wind of Zoh Amba, the 22-year-old tenor sax titan from rural Tennessee, from master drummer Ra Kalam Bob Moses back in February. Since then, she's released four albums. Bhakti, on Arkansas-based indie Mahakala Music, is probably the most authentic representation of what Amba's about; it's every note she played in the studio with drummer Tyshawn Sorey, pianist Micah Thomas, and guitarist Matt Hollenberg. Her spiritual sound, which has garnered comparisons with Albert Ayler, is rich and full, with a wide vibrato -- a soulful cry. (She also plays bass, guitar, and piano.) My favorite is O, Sun, on John Zorn's Tzadik label. I dig its pacing and the accompaniment by Thomas, bassist Thomas Morgan, and drummer Joey Baron. (Zorn guests on alto on one track.) 

7) Since Robert Fripp put King Crimson to sleep at the end of their 2021 tour, he's reinvented himself as an internet personality -- a nice old Winnie the Pooh, in contrast to the knotty persona that KC fans still seem to enjoy doing battle with online (fan culture's toxic, kids) -- and begun sharing his secrets, in the form of a book (The Guitar Circle) which I haven't ponied up for yet, but reckon occupies a space similar to the philosophical portions of Mick Goodrick's The Advancing Guitarist (which I reminded myself I need to revisit after reading of its author's recent passing), and in a series of weekly Robert At Home YouTube videos, wherein he explains and demonstrates some of his guitar technique and repertoire (including mistakes -- which he reminds us can be valuable teachers). 

8) The idea of "practice" has become an organizing principle in my own life, as it relates to exercise and meditation as well as music; not just as a means of preparing for an activity, but as an approach to living (you can train yourself to apply the techniques of meditation to the way you receive sensory input as you go through life). It can be useful to work on developing focus and clarity, and be aware of what you're feeling. This would have been useful insight to have had when I was young -- when I would have been totally unreceptive to it. (Thanks to my meditation teacher Eric Klerks -- yep, same guy who plays in Android Trio, among other aggregations -- for his helpful guidance in this area.)

9) In the past two and a half years, my wife and I have watched more movies than we did in the previous 17. (Thanks, Criterion Channel and, um, Amazon Prime. So evil, so convenient.) Incredibly for me, I haven't kept a film diary. I can't even remember most of the titles, although there was a lot of Korean cinema, and we're currently high on the director Sarah Polley. This, I suppose, is the downside to streaming versus buying DVDs. 

10) Someone recently told me "Age is meaningless." I might have agreed with them before my body started breaking down and my oldest, dearest friends started leaving. I'm reconciled to the fact that my days of playing high energy rockaroll and doing political gruntwork are in the rearview. I've been hanging out with my buddies Rick and Larry (who works there) at Panther City Vinyl on Mondays. It's my version of "the old guys who have breakfast at the cafe every week." I am reminded that every beloved record comes with a story, and what I miss about working in record stores is hearing other people's. I am terminally fatigued with canonical rock shit. (How many more "upgrades" will the majors wring out of the music of our '60s-'70s yoof before all the boomers croak? Will George Martin's grandson get to remix the Beatles catalog?) I rely on a couple of people whose opinions I respect to pull my coat to new stuff that will interest me. At this point, all of our storage solutions are full, so my music collection becomes like a SXSW venue: "One out, one in." I'm going to spend the rest of the year delving into the pianist-composer Satoko Fujii's catalog, on which I was late to the party. Be excellent to each other, won't you?