Denton, 7.17.2024

This has not been a month for writing. The stack of record reviews I intended to write will have to wait, as the whole month, starting the weekend of the 4th, political news has been a series of gut punches and triple combinations. It seems frivolous to be scribbling about music at an historical moment like this one. But, you can't be a gloomy depressive all the time, so last Sunday I toddled up to li'l d to sit on a writer's panel at KUZU-FM's Revolution Record Convention, during which I found a place to divest all of our VHS tapes (Rubber Gloves), and was invited to read at a Recycled Books event on the 25th. I'll be the sacrificial local opener with touring poets Darryl Gussin (Razorcake editor), James Norman, and Walker Rose. How fortunate am I. 

And last night was Molten Plains, and it has been my custom to write a report on each installment of our region's most consistently engaging experimental music showcase, so I am honor bound to do so now, even as a participant-observer. For last night was an Improv Lotto, where 15 musicians were teamed up in ad hoc ensembles and played 10-30 minute sets without preparation. Molten Plains co-curator Ernesto Monteil invited me via Facebook message from Venezuela, where he's visiting family, and I surely could not refuse (although I hadn't played out since Stoogeaphilia folded the tent in 2019 and hadn't done improv since Terry Horn moved to China around the same time). 

At the appointed hour, Ernesto's co-curator Sarah Ruth Alexander, assisted by Aaron Gonzalez, drew names from a hat for a quartet, a duo, and three trios. Then the bands set up, played, and tore down in the sequence they were picked, assisted by sound tech extraordinaire Aubrey Seaton. Due to the unique circumstances, I didn't manage to shoot any photos after the first set, and my buddy Mike Webber obligingly took pics of the one set I couldn't have photographed.

The first set featured Molten Plains veterans Rachel Weaver and Sarah Jay on electronics and treated vocals, Fort Worth guitar eminence Frank Cervantez (Suiciety/Sub Oslo/Wire Nest), and multi-instrumentalist Stefanie Lazcano (Pearl Earl). Weaver and Jay established the hypnotic foundation for the music, Cervantez listened attentively and wove his way in and around their groove and electronic artifacts, and Lazcano was the MVP of the set, switching between wooden flute, fuzz bass, and didgeridoo to provide the terrain features on the soundscape.

The trio that followed was set up on the floor to put them closer to the legless piano that usually resides in the Rubber Room. Princess Haultaine III began the set with a surprising, Cecil Taylor-esque assault that was surprisingly musical. Haultaine's a self-taught and unbridled pianist, but their aggressively energetic performance was also highly expressive. Percussionist Miguel Espinel (Monte Espina, Oil Spill, Bog) is a mainstay of Molten Plains events, and he provided his usual carefully considered statements. The tough job went to guitarist Will Kapinos (Jet Screamer, Dim Locator), fresh from playing a reunion show with the Baptist Generals. How would he integrate his sounds with the non-idiomatic improv? Kapinos took his time, then entered with some sparse dissonance and used a lot of space along with his arsenal of effects to explore some of the same sonic terrain as Randy Hansen in the Apocalypse Now soundtrack and Jeff Beck in his obscure but great soundtrack for the Aussie TV show Frankie's House. When Haultaine and Espinel swapped instruments, things careened into free jazz territory before reaching a satisfying resolution. My favorite set of the night.

Next up was a duo which teamed another pair of Molten Plains vets: cellist Kourtney Newton (Sounds Modern, Bitches Set Traps) and electronic musician Randall Minick (Python Potions). Newton's a virtuoso who uses every part of the cello to generate sounds, melodically and rhythmically, using arco, pizzicato, and percussive attacks. She gives the lie to the trope that classically trained musicians can't improvise. Minick is ever attuned to the requirements of the moment, and modulated his volume to match the acoustic instrument. Gradually, the two developed a spirited dialogue that included deep groove elements and Newton's use of a musical saw. An intriguing example of spontaneous composition in action.

The next trio featured another interesting combination of elements: Polly Pawgette (Bobo, Sybil) on voice, electronics, and electric clarinet, Katie Kidd (Bog) on amplified fuel drum (shades of early Scott Asheton!) and effects, and Austinite Lacey Lewis (Heavy Stars, The Sophies) on vibraphone. Pawgette established the sound bed and occasionally took flight on clarinet, Kidd added a raw industrial edge not often heard in this venue, and Lewis furnished the melodic thread that provided continuity to the others' explorations. 

Now comes the part I've been dreading (not really). I was in the trio that closed the evening, with Molten Plains mainstay Aaron Gonzalez (Akkolyte, Yells At Eels) on standup bass and vocals and Julio A. Sanchez (Heavy Baby Sea Slugs) on guitar. I'd played with Aaron once before, in Kamandi at 6th Street Live in Fort Worth, was it really 18 years ago? -- a gig I remember mainly for the hail of broken drumsticks from Clay Stinnett and Darren Miller, and the animalistic noises a guy standing right in front of the stage was making. On this occasion, Aaron muted his normally extreme extroversion, and (bless him) kept it simple for the rock guys. Julio, having opted for the house Twin rather than the direct box he originally planned to use, came out guns blazing, and I immediately discerned my role in this scenario: be the drummer. (When in doubt, play rhythm guitar!) I also rendered props to days gone by with a little RF interference action using a couple of portable electric fans -- thanks for the idea, T. Horn! -- and did a mini-feedback meltdown a la the li'l Stooge band playing "Little Doll" to end a set. When it was over, Aaron asked, "How long was that?" I said I figured ten minutes. Later, my buddy Mike told me it was about 20. Listen, I have come unstuck in time...

Now, Back to silence back to minus with the purple sky behind us / In these metal ways.