Dallas, 9.20.2025

Saturday night, I headed to The Cedars in Dallas with my pals Mike and Cam to take advantage of the second opportunity this month to hear my two favorite bands -- Gregg Prickett's long-lived, Mingus-and-Ayler-influenced quintet Monks of Saturnalia and Stefan Gonzalez's jazz juggernaut Trio Glossia -- kicking 'em out on the same bill. The occasion was Gregg's 60th (!) birthday, commemorated with Black Forest cake at the end of Monks' set (bringing back memories of my own 50th at the Wreck Room in Fort Worth with Stoogeaphilia). The venue was Full City Rooster, a cozy community hub that's become one of my favorite listening rooms, which on this night was packed with creative music aficionados, giving the lie to the fallacy that "there's no audience for free jazz in DFW."

Trio Glossia was coming off the high of a performance at Ingebrigt Haker Flaten's Sonic Transmissions Festival in Austin last weekend, and in the intimate confines of Full City Rooster, they sounded like a different band than the one that played behind the screen at Oak Cliff's Texas Theatre a couple of weeks ago. The organic warmth of Full City's back room was a welcome change from the theatre's big rock PA, and you could hear all the subtlety, space, and counterpoint in their music that was lost in that earlier, bombastic performance. Besides "Dream Travelers" from their album, all the tunes were as-yet-unrecorded ones by bassist/guitarist Matthew Frerck or tenorman/drummer Joshua Canate. 

On the first number, they inhabited Eric Dolphy Out To Lunch territory, with Stefan on vibraphone and Joshua playing in an impressionistic, teenage Tony Williams bag. Later, his thunderous kick and tumbling tom rolls echoed '70s "arena jazz" Tony. The second tune was the opener at Texas Theatre and sounded like nothing so much as the "flying brick wall" Bruford-Wetton King Crimson rhythm section backing Archie Shepp at his blazing '60s zenith. 

Matthew moved between his guitar, short-scale electric bass guitar, and stand-up bass, sometimes in the course of the same piece. He plays with authority, displaying stellar chops and imagination while anchoring the music. Stefan is a marvel on mallet percussion, attacking the instrument with stunning physicality, and on the last piece (my favorite of the set), reverted to his Yells At Eels drum style, swinging relentlessly and tossing off fills like chaff. A formidable force, this band.

I've been watching the Monks of Saturnalia for a few years -- not since their inception in 1998, but for ten or 15 years at least -- and I think the current lineup, with Drew Phelps on bass, Alan Green on drums, and multi-reed master Dale Fielder (a California expat whose primary axe is baritone but here plays tenor, alto, and soprano) alongside youthful bari specialist Aidan Sears in the horn section, might be my favorite ever.

They opened, as ever, with Gregg's Ayler dedication "He Walked Into the River," which I first heard at Ronald Shannon Jackson's very last Decoding Society concert, with Gregg on guitar, and at Shannon's memorial, where Gregg and Decoding Society violinist Leonard Hayward performed. As ever, the audience responded "Music is the healing force" on cue as Gregg recited "My name is Albert Ayler," "They don't like my music, but they will," and "He walked into the river." 

A couple of Drew Phelps originals injected a dose of humor (on the faux '50s detective show theme "Cucuy") as well as memorable themes (the galloping, Western-sounding one I keep missing the name of but is always a set highlight). The Mingus influence came to the fore on "Baby Four" (a Beneath the Underdog reference that sent me back to the first edition of Mingus' 1971 autobiography I found at Recycled for a ten spot back in the early '90s) and the closing "Hika," a dedication to the last of Gregg's beloved trio of wolves who Leonard Hayward recalled being surprised by the first time he went to Gregg's house to rehearse. On that last tune, Alan Green conducted a master class in the malleability of the groove, shifting from waltz to shuffle to sprung rhythm.

Throughout, Gregg played composer's guitar, sketching out the forms and exchanging humorous glances with Alan and Drew as they responded to each other's playing, stepping out for a brief episode of fuzz-driven Frippertronic guitartistry that warmed the cockles of my feedback-scorched heart. At 60, Gregg Prickett is making the best music of his life. I hope this band keeps playing and, more to the point, I hope they release some recordings of this material soon. It's time.

Denton, 9.17.2025

Tonight's Joan of Bark Presents at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios was Improv Lotto al fresco (on the patio), which created a challenging sonic environment for sound technician extraordinaire Aubrey Seaton, with bleed through from a rock show in the show room as well as the usual passing trains that are a rite of passage for any musician who plays at Gloves. I assisted curator Sarah Ruth Alexander in pulling names from the hat (and previewing the lineup for December 13's Joan of Bark Fest). Then the ad hoc groups -- a quartet and three trios -- commenced their performances.

The evening's first ensemble comprised guitarist Shane Wright, electric vibraphonist Chelsey Danielle, bassoonist Victoria Donaldson, and cellist Will Frenkel. Chelsey Danielle has been the dominant presence in any ensemble I've ever seen her in, and this was no exception. Here the textural contrast between her mallet percussion and Donaldson's bassoon was a set highlight; unfortunately, the subtle dynamics of this group's music were often drowned in thunderous bass from the rock show inside. At one point, I thought about going to stand by the stage to see if the sound was more audible and gesturing to folks to move up if it was, but I lost my nerve. Wha-wha.

In the second ensemble, dancer Jordan Fuchs made his Improv Lotto debut accompanied by vocalist Jo Hazel and electronic musician Abbas Khorasani. The musicians created a Middle Eastern vibe, while Jordan's movements, constrained at first, became more expansive as the piece unfolded. Only non-snazz aspect of this performance was the stage monitors that obscured Jordan from view while he was on the floor. 

I've been watching Sarah Gamblin dance since 2010 and have always been impressed by her work, but her performance in the third ensemble might I've been the most riveting I've seen from her. Gamblin inhabited the space with fluid motion, and excelled as always at listening to her accompanists and finding visual analogs for what they're doing. She even managed to incorporate the troublesome monitors into her movement. Lo Ramirez set the pace on vocals and electronics, and Kourtney Newton played every part of the cello, including beating on its face for tabla-like effects, adding triangle for textural variety and then applying the striker to her strings. 

The last ensemble was the only one of the evening that managed to compete with the rock show's volume. Poppy Xander vocalized operatically while accompanying herself with keyboard sounds that varied dynamically from chamber music delicacy to heavy rock roar, while Camella Weedon on theremin and Rose Kamego on electronics provided sonic seasoning. It was a satisfying conclusion to an evening of thrilling extemporization, and an object lesson that an improvising performer always has to work the room. 

Next Joan of Bark Presents is October 29. Don't you dare miss it.

Post-punk percussion discussion to Oak Cliff cometh

Since attending the author event for Pat Blashill's Someday All the Adults Will Die: The Birth of Texas Punk at congenial Oak Cliff bookstore/coffeehouse/bar The Wild Detectives a couple of weeks ago, I've been binge-ing Big Boys and Dicks and contemplating the hardcore moment that I narrowly missed between unassing Austin to make a band in Aspen, Colorado (what was I thinking?) and spending a decade Guarding Freedom's Frontier during the Reagan era (some people will do anything for medical insurance; we thought we won the Cold War, didn't see what was coming). 

Back at the ass-end of the '70s, Gang of Four's Entertainment! was a crucial spin, combining as it did those Leeds Uni kids' critique of the society in which they lived with a jagged punk take on funk that was echoed Stateside by the likes of Big Boys and Minutemen. A few years later, Fugazi emerged from the fertile DC scene to make powerful music while epitomizing the moral and ethical DIY aesthetic better than anyone else, to the point of discouraging the crowd violence that had characterized hardcore. Both bands represented a more rigorous version of the weird, smart kids that started punk before it became an orthodoxy. 

So imagine my surprise when I learned that both bands' drummers -- Gang of Four's Hugo Burnham and Fugazi's Brendan Canty -- will be appearing in conversation at Texas Theatre on Sunday, October 19, as part of this year's Hay Festival Forum Dallas. The two will discuss percussion as protest, band dynamics as a reflection of political struggle, and the ongoing role sound plays in social upheaval -- a topic particularly germane in this moment of authoritarian breakthrough. Tickets are available here. I plan to be there, flush with energy and engagement from the previous day's No Kings action in Fort Worth. Y'all come.

Things we like: Senso di Voce, Sylvie Courvoisier/Wadada Leo Smith, Satoko Fujii/Natsuki Tamura

Sylvie Courvoisier and Wadada Leo Smith. Copyright Ogata Photo.

A handful of duos this month. 

Senso di Voce is the duo of Turkish-born, Austin-based vocalist/multi-instrumentalist (tremelo harmonica, bass harmonica, and harmonium) Esin Gunduz and upstate New York-based oboist Megan Kyle. Their sound, replete with vibrations animated by breath, covers a full spectrum of moods and emotions. Their new album, through itself, on Ingebrigt Haker Flaten's Sonic Transmissions label, has its origins in a 2021 grant from Chamber Music America that funded Esin's four-part composition which forms the core of this album, and is bookended by two live improvisations from their 2024 tour. Esin's work is inspired by the writings of the Andalusian Sufi mystic and philosopher Ibn Arabi, whose work has had wide influence on Islamic thought. (I am currently online stalking Toshihiko Izutsu's Sufism and Taoism: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts on the composer's recommendation.)

"Selam" introduces the sonic palette and establishes a theme of longing ("yearning to become one with"). Gunduz demonstrates impressive control of her voice, and Kyle matches it with bent notes and human-sounding tonalities. "Everything is alive" opens with ululations over droning harmonium, with Kyle's lower-pitched English horn functioning as an undertone as the musicians invoke "the life force inside all existent things." "Perplexity" employs negative space, shifting dynamics, and percussive sounds to effectively depict "the state of bewilderment/non-dual awareness." "Oneness" blends overtone-rich sounds from oboe and bass harmonica in its rendering of "the state of union/higher state of consciousness." The opening and closing improvisations further explore this sound world. With through itself, Senso di Voce has created an immersive sound experience that rewards repeated listening and provides a fitting background for needed contemplation.

Angel Falls, a collaboration between Swiss-born, Brooklyn based pianist-composer Sylvie Courvoisier and AACM elder/master trumpeter-composer Wadada Leo Smith, out October 3 on Intakt, grew out of earlier encounters between the two in larger ensembles that include an as-yet-unreleased trio recording with drummer Marcus Gilmore and Courvoisier's sextet recording Chimaera. Smith has previously recorded in piano duos with Vijay Iyer, John Tilbury, Angelica Sanchez, and Amina Claudine Myers. Both musicians are equally well versed in chamber music and jazz forms and processes; it was Courvoisier's idea that all the compositions on this album should be spontaneous. The pieces were played in the order in which they appear on the disc, without edits, and mixed the same day.

Wadada -- Anthony Braxton's one time trumpet foil, who came to his greatness as a composer in his maturity with 2012's Ten Freedom Summers -- has a singular voice on his horn, distinguished by a burnished tone, unrushed attack, and the ever-present influences of blues, Ornette Coleman, and Miles Davis (particularly when employing a mute). Courvoisier combines formidable technique with a capacity for deep listening and empathetic responding, to include spontaneously applying objects to the piano's strings. Their improvised dialogues are audibly guided by intention and purpose, and sound as though they could have been scored. A memorable meeting of minds between two major artists.

Speaking of piano-trumpet duos, on Ki, the tenth duo outing for pianist-composer Satoko Fujii and her husband, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, out September 19 on Fujii's Libra label, I was pleasantly surprised to find an oasis of calm in which to take refuge from our tense historical moment. The seven Tamura compositions here share the quiet lyricism of his ensemble Gato Libre, and the trumpeter says his intention was to create an atmosphere of "standing dignified in clear air." Fujii found it challenging to play with more silence and space than she usually employs, but her composition "Dan's Oceanside Listening Post" inhabits the same sonic terrain as the rest of the album. CDs are available via Libra's website; downloads via Bandcamp.

Oak Cliff, 9.5.2025

Photo by Kat Shimamoto.

This month is providing an unparalleled opportunity: seeing my two favorite bands on the same bill, not once but twice. Last night's show behind the screen at Texas Theatre teamed Stefan Gonzalez's Trio Glossia with Gregg Prickett's Monks of Saturnalia on the occasion of Stefan's 40th birthday -- actually a week early, because next weekend they'll be in Austin playing Ingebrigt Haker Flaten's Sonic Transmissions Fest. Then on the 20th, both bands will be at Full City Rooster, celebrating Gregg's 60th birthday. Y'all come!

I make no bones about the fact that Gregg Prickett is my favorite guitarist, and Monks of Saturnalia -- a going concern for 25 years now, in spite of the difficulty of scheduling musos to rehearse challenging original material -- played one of the best sets of theirs I've witnessed, despite some churn in the horn section. Tenor mainstay Steve Brown was sidelined for knee surgery, and tenor/altoist Dale Fielder was a last-minute sub. Baritonist Aden Sears wasn't scheduled to play the gig, but showed up just in time to solo on "Lamentation Nathan" (dedicated to another absent reedman, Nathan Collins). He and Fielder cracked each other up conducting spirited dialogues a la Booker Ervin, John Handy, and Pepper Adams in the classic '50s Mingus band that cut Blues and Roots.

The set opened with a bit of audience participation on Gregg's Albert Ayler tribute "He Walked Into the River," a tune dating back to the guitarist-composer's tenure with Ronald Shannon Jackson's Decoding Society, with the audience responding "My name is Albert Ayler," "If people don't like my music now, they will," and "Music is the healing force of the universe" on cue. Prickett played pianistic chords and locked in with bassist extraordinaire Drew Phelps (who's playing a 10am solo set at the Denton Arts & Jazz Festival on October 4) and Alan Green, a drummer of unparalleled subtlety, swing, and taste. Phelps soloed with fire and inspiration on a galloping, Western-sounding original of his, and when Prickett threw in some bluesy bends amid the note-splintering on the closing mutated Texas shuffle, the crowd responded enthusiastically.

Trio Glossia returned from a brief hiatus flush with new material (the only vestiges of their debut disc were in a version of "Dream Travelers" with a brief percussion interlude from "Nerdy Dirty Talk"); the rest of their set was previously unrecorded, if not unheard. The hot rock PA mix made Matthew Frerck's acoustic bass sound immense (also noticeable during Monks' set when Drew played arco), and all three musicians played with a new level of aggression and fire -- Frerck and Joshua Canate hitting like "flying brick wall" era King Crimson when Stefan was on vibraphone, the ensemble playing a rock groove behind Joshua's fire music glossolalia on tenor. I'm looking forward to hearing these tunes again on the 20th at Full City Rooster when they've had more time to percolate and been tempered by the energy exchange with an Austin festival audience.