Fort Worth, 12.20.2025

My musical year ended playing on an eclectic bill at the Grackle Art Gallery with STC. In this busy season, we wound up canceling all our scheduled practices up until a do-or-die 11th hour one the night before, where I had some noisy pedals but didn't think anything of it after I checked all my batteries and found them to still have juice. I would pay for this later.

We'd decided to all "fly the flannel" for Mike Watt's birthday but wound up not wearing them while we played because of the unseasonably warm temperature. Halfway through "City Slang" I punched the fuzz and got nada. We tried a do-over with similar non-success and then, rather than wasting time trying to troubleshoot my shit, I elected to go straight through the amp, calling an "audible" that we would skip all my solos except the unavoidable one on "1983." Kavin Allenson's video of "A Quick One" shows that Cam was as "too loud" for the room as El Mantis' bass player had been a couple of weeks earlier. I scarcely noticed as I was busy digging his fills and Tony's melodic bass lines. My amp volume stayed on one and my wife said vocals were basically inaudible. Wha wha. We finished with "People Have the Power" in place of "Apostrophe." The audience of fellow musos and their family members was very kind. 

Photo by Linda Little.

Hijazz Ensemble was down a player as drummer Eddie Dunlap had double booked himself. Darrin Kobetich started out trying to use a microphone on his cumbus but wound up going to the pickup due to feedback problems, and left his oud in the corner due to tuning issues. He and Mark Hyde (on a microtonally tuned instrument of his own construction) spun webs of Near Eastern sounding scales over which Dave Williams extemporized freely on soprano and tenor saxes. Dave's a player in the Wayne Shorter/Joe Henderson free bop mode, and I have good memories of hearing him play Wayne's "Witch Hunt" and Mingus "Nostalgia in Times Square" at old Black Dog jams. (He also apparently shared the Stashdauber origin story with his bandmates.) Hijazz Ensemble is a groove machine like old Fort Worth faves Confusatron and Sleeplab. I'd dig to hear them on a bill with like minded Austinites Atlas Maior.

Speaking of revered Fort Worth ancestors, Stem Afternoon purvey a brand of dubwise trip-hop that harks back to the mighty Sub Oslo ("a dub band with a rock aesthetic," in dubfather Miguel Veliz's words) and Marcus Lawyer's Top Secret...Shh recording project. Bassist Cyrus Haskell and drummer Mykl Garcia lay down the foundation over which DJ FTdub lays a blanket of samples and scratches and Clint Niosi deploys various bits of melodic business. Starting out with snaky wah-wah guitar lines, Clint shifted to F/X laden lap steel, raising the volume and intensity to stratospheric levels. An occasion where Linda's Liquid Lights might have enhanced the experience.

In between sets, I talked with DJ Phil Ford about how the most exciting music on the set is happening where genres intersect and players of vision are willing to test and stretch the boundaries of the familiar. The Grackle continues to be the best place in my town to catch such action, and I look forward to hearing what Kavin, Linda, and Leland have to offer in 2026.

And this morning I ops checked my rig and found the offending patch cord, which now hangs in the Patch Cord Hall of Shame, and played through all the nice fuzzy solos I didn't get to last night. It's always something simple; I just never know what it is. Happy holidays to them what celebrate.

Photo by April Smith-Long

Denton, 12.13.2025

The first annual Joan of Bark Fest at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios was a beautifully paced, eclectic evening of adventurous music. A mix of touring acts and locals, with some first time collaborations.

Opening set, in the Rubber Room with sound tech Miguel Espinel at the controls, was by the ad hoc improv Joan of Bark Ensemble, comprising Sarah Jay and Rachel Weaver on electronics, Will Frenkel on cello, curator Sarah Ruth Alexander on voice, Wen Lit on violin, Elizabeth McNutt on flute and theremin, Paul Slavens on keyboard and synthesizer, and Gabe Lit on clarinets. After a tentative beginning, Sarah announced that they would be playing a conduction, and executed a series of dance moves that the musicians interpreted. Then a couple of audience members had a try before Paul and Gabe took their turns. (You could tell who had previous conducting experience.) An easy and fun ice breaker.

After timely pause, the action shifted to the main room, where sound tech Aubrey Seaton was holding down the desk, for a trio of cellist Henna Chou and bassists Aaron Gonzalez and Kory Reeder. The performance began with arco drones until first Chou, then Gonzalez, introduced melodic elements, shifting between pizzicato and arco while Reeder provided ringing overtones. A brief but satisfying conversation.

I regret that I wasn't able to get any good pictures of the duo Evil Horns in the Rubber Room, as I dallied too long in the lobby and wound up standing in back out of crappy phone camera range. But clarinetist Gabe Lit and tenor saxophonist Nikki D'Agostino conducted another spirited dialogue, intertwining their sounds in a stream of unisons, harmonies, and occasional dissonance, exploring the full range of their horns. Lit's bass clarinet, here and with the Ensemble, was particularly welcome as I hadn't heard one live since Emily Rach Beisel visited Denton around this time last year.

Then it was back to the main room for the first time collaboration between noise artists Wenepa (on this occasion, Melanie Little Smith and Suzanne Terry) and Tulsa-based Spirit Plate (Warren Realrider, Mateo Galindo, and Nathan Young). The music started with a pulsing drone and the tintinnabulous sounds of small instruments, amplified and treated electronically, with Smith vocalizing. Gradually the electronic drone rose to a crescendo, filling the senses. Smith's drumming on a tom gave the piece a ritual, ceremonial feel. Gradually, the tempo accelerated and with it the drone's intensity until gradually it diminished and abruptly stopped. A cleansing exorcism.

After that unremitting intensity, a listener might have craved some relief, and that came in the form of the next Rubber Room set, by Austin-based Little Mazern. On this occasion, singer-songwriter Lindsey Verrill performed solo, accompanying herself on banjo (with some electronic effects) and cello. The sweetness of her songcraft -- like rustic Americana with clever, wry, contemporary lyrics -- and the vulnerability of her voice drew the audience in. At one point, she commented that she'd just finished reading a biography of Arthur Russell, who said he was "the songwriter that experimental people liked." This drew laughs and a hoot of recognition. "This room is so quiet and tender," Verrill remarked. It was us responding to her and the mood she created.

Soothed by that healing balm, the audience trooped back into the main room for the evening's most cathartic set: the first-time collaboration of Dallas based electronic pop artist Mattie with two thirds of Trio Glossoa: Joshua Canate on drums and tenor sax, and Stefan Gonzalez on vibraphone and drums. I dug the fact that Mattie kept her electronics at a comparable volume to the vibraphone (the quietest instrument should always be the pacing item, IMO), and the way her collaborators responded to every rhythmic nuance she was laying down. Her costuming and vocalization gave the set an Afrofuturist vibe (think Octavia Butler observing the Heaven's Gate cult) and the two percussionists -- who share a house as well as Trio Glossia's stage -- played like one thunderously high energy polyrhythmic hydra. Gonzalez performed with his trademark physicality, and Canate's testimony on tenor was the icing on the cake. A trio I'd dig to see perform again.

A hard act to follow, but White Boy Scream -- the performing rubric of Filipino-American composer/opera singer/sound artist Micaela Tobin -- was equal to the task. A faculty member at CalArts, she's currently based in Tulsa on an artist fellowship, and will certainly turn anyone's idea of opera on its head. Tobin augments her classically pure voice and extended vocal techniques with electronic gadgetry that makes her voice sound like an electric guitar on the verge of feedback meltdown, using loops to create choral effects, shrieking and roaring over beds of harsh noise and juddering rhythm. Her music is informed by ancestral mythology, particularly her operas Bakunama: Opera of the Seven Moons and Apolaki: Opera of the Scorched Earth. Tobin takes vocal performance to the edge and beyond, and her stunning set was the perfect way to end this night of music to fill the heart and head. Can't wait to see what Joan of Bark Presents has on tap in the new year.

About Keith Wingate

Keith Wingate executes faster than I can think. I went to a school that valued expression (amp tone, bends, vibrato) over note production, which you can probably still hear. But Keith is a total musician. He understands extended harmony, classic song forms, the rhythmic basis of jazz, and all of that comes out in his solo playing. 

He really is a one man jazz trio: can (and does) gig on guitar, bass, or drums. His right hand is a great drummer by itself, and the rhythm parts he lays down on his looper jump and swing like a band with a good drummer would. His technique and imagination are nonpareil, whether he's playing single note lines, lightning fast arpeggios, bluesy smears, deft octaves, or full on chord melody. 

I never realized that "Autumn Leaves" has the same changes as the "Theme from M*A*S*H" until I heard him interpolate them at the Nobleman Hotel the other night during happy hour. He couldn't play a couple of my requests, but he did play some lush ballads, streamlined blues, smooth bossa (no "Aguas de Marco," but I did get "Wave" to quell my Jobim hunger), "Mo' Betta Blues" (which is by Spike's daddy Bill Lee, not a Marsalis brother like I thought), and Toots Thielmans' "Bluesette," another fave of mine. 

I can understand a _little_ more of what he does now than I used to, but it's always a pleasure to hear him and be amazed at pure six-string artistry.

Fort Worth, 12.6.2025

A musical week in the Town of Cow, this: El Mantis topping the bill at the Grackle Art Gallery Wednesday, Frontier Ballet's Nutcracker at I.M. Terrell Performing Arts Center last night, and Sounds Modern at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth this afternoon. Presented in conjunction with the museum's current exhibit, Jenny Saville: The Anatomy of Painting, Sounds Modern's The Anatomy of Sound was inspired by an interview where the artist spoke of her love of Bach's Goldberg Variations, Radiohead's "Weird Fishes," and Philip Glass's Facades. 

The Glass works Sounds Modern director Elizabeth McNutt chose for this program were a far cry from the mechanistic repetition a naive listener like your humble chronicler o' events associates with the minimalist icon. The cello solo piece Orbit was originally performed by Yo-Yo Ma with the Memphis street dancer Charles "Lil Buck" Riley; here, it was beautifully played by Kourtney Newton, whom I've seen perform improv with dancers in other venues. As always, Newton's technique and expression were impeccable. One could almost imagine a dancer complementing her solo with movement. Glass's Taoist Sacred Dance was played by McNutt on flute with Shannon Wettstein on piano. It featured surprising (for Glass) Romantic harmony, which served as the springboard for wider melodic explorations before the recapitulation. Another side of the composer that took this listener by surprise.

Three of the pieces made reference to Bach. Played solo by Wettstein, Jennifer Higdon's The Gilmore Variation was a new variation on Bach's classic, while David del Tredici's My Goldberg (Gymnopedie) is simultaneously referential to Erik Satie's Gymnopedies, juxtaposing a free-flowing melody of almost jazzlike sonority with Bach's descending bass line. Missy Mazzoli's Dissolve, O my Heart begins with the D minor that also starts the Chaconne in Bach's Partita in D Minor before taking off with a series of surprising chords and soft passages with audible harmonics, finishing with some fast passages. Violist Daphne Gerling gave the piece a fine reading; a reminder of how satisfying such mathematical music can be. (I'm listening to Yo Yo Ma playing Bach's cello suites as I type this.)

The closing piece of today's performance was Stephen Lucas' arrangement of Radiohead's Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, played by an ensemble including Sarah Ruth Alexander on voice, Lucas on synthesizer, and Patrick Overturf on percussion alongside Gerling, McNutt, Newton, and Wettstein. It was novel hearing the piano and synth doubling lines while the flute and cello acted as a rock rhythm section in tandem with Overturf's minimalist percussives and Alexander gave Thom Yorke's lyrics a soulful reading. Sounds Modern is a musical treasure that more people in Fort Worth need to know about.

Fort Worth, 12.3.2025

A stacked bill at the little gallery that could in my precinct? Yes, please!

Last night, the Grackle Art Gallery played host to Houston's Latin rock-free jazz juggernaut El Mantis, playing the opening engagement of an East Coast tour, with support from chanteuse Lily Taylor and a duo improvisation by Stefan Gonzalez on vibraphone and Garrett Wingfield on alto sax.

Stefan said he hadn't been playing much since returning from touring Europe with The Young Mothers, but his playing belied that as he laid down pointillistic melodies on his stripped down vibraphone (which has a damper but no resonator) with his trademark high energy. Garrett phrased around him, evoking the spirits of Ornette Coleman and Julius Hemphill in their hometown (we'd been discussing Shirley Clarke's documentary Ornette: Made In America before they started) and even throwing in a little Johnny Hodges vibrato (Garrett's been sitting in with a friend's big band). A thoroughly satisfying set from two ace improvisers.

Lily started out regaling the audience with memories of two festivals she played this year: Rochester, NY's Avant Garde a Clue II, and Miami's Psych Fest III, held at Churchill's Pub there. Lily's been playing improv and Great American Songbook duo gigs with bassist Aaron Gonzalez (who was present but not performing), but on this occasion, she focused on original songs from her two albums (2014's The Ride and 2023's Amphora). Her classic chanteuse's vocal chops, gorgeous melodies, and dreamlike electronic sound beds create a total sonic environment worth revisiting. Lily, Aaron, and Stefan will be among the musicians backing free jazz saxophonist/poet Elliott Levin in two sets -- a trio and a quintet -- at Dallas's New Media Contemporary on December 21.

I've seen El Mantis in both trio and quintet configurations, and they recently performed some dates as a quintet without saxophonist Danny Kamins but with bassist Chris Lopez joining the lineup. For this tour, they're a quartet with Chris but minus the keyboards and percussion that appear on their current CD, El Lago de los Ciegos. (Last year's double disc El Mantis Live! is a handy document of the band's evolution, replete with Eric Dolphy and Albert Ayler covers.)

Previously, Andrew Martinez had switched between guitar and bass, but now he can devote himself to the six string axe full time, playing knuckle busting voicings and reaching for the ineffable in his solos as well as playing unisons or harmonized lines with Danny. Chris's bass carries the structural weight of the tunes with lots of punch and definition that was almost overpowering in the Grackle's confines. Angel Garcia is a loud drummer (who backed off his attack for the room) and a powerful flamenco style singer, but sometimes it was hard to hear him over the bass. Angel said later that they have an 85 dB limit when they play the Kennedy Center (!) later on this tour. Hopefully they'll be able to comply... and make all their announcements in Spanish.

Having recently completed his "I Beat Cancer's Ass" solo tour (which included a duet with noise guitarist Angel Drake at a Dallas show Lily booked), Danny is looking great and playing with invention and fire. He shredded a reed while demonstrating that his circular breathing facility and multiphonic glossolalia are intact. Standout tunes included "Leche, Pan y Balas" (which translates as "Milk, Bread and Bullets," inspired by a radio news story, Angel said), Danny's dedication to a mentor "For Wendell," and set closer "Sin Alma." I look forward to watching this great band continue to evolve.

About Gregg Prickett

Dallasite Gregg Prickett is my favorite guitarist, full stop -- none of that weak-ass "from around here" bullshit -- but his artistry has been documented less fully than many lesser lights. My intent here is to assemble as much evidence as possible for the curious listener who doesn't live in North Texas.

Here's video of a set he played recently at Fort Worth's Grackle Art Gallery under the rubric Habu Habu, which can mean Gregg solo (acoustic or electric) or in a collaborative trio with Drew Phelps on bass and Alan Green on drums. It's refreshing to hear an improvising guitarist who uses harmonic motion, as well as drones and noise, in his spontaneous compositions, and employs electronic effects to augment his musicality rather than just overwhelming the listener's senses. He possesses classical dexterity and jazz harmonic knowledge, but all of his tools are directed at expression, not showy chops-mongering.

Gregg also performs in Trio du Sang, an acoustic outfit with virtuoso violinist Andrew May and percussionist Bobby Gajardo.

Garland native Gregg started his career in 1984 with Dallas surf rock band the Buena Vistas. He had formative experiences playing bass for guitarist-songwriter Bill Longhorse in the lounge/swing outfit Mr. Pink, ironic jazz-rock unit Shanghai 5 (with whom Gregg recorded a CD, Under a Tent, in 2005), and the Immaculates, which mixed live instrumentation with lo-fi samples. A five year sojourn in Chicago included a stint with doomy noise rockers Rabid Rabbit which resulted in an eponymous 2009 LP. Gregg also played with Denton/Dallas scene mainstay Wanz Dover in space rock unit The Falcon Project and garage rock juggernaut Black Dotz, with whom I first saw Gregg play back in 2011.

Gregg began developing his current concept of free playing after moving to Oak Cliff in 1998, influenced by the Charles Mingus bands of 1964 and 1975, the "classic" John Coltrane quartet and the late-period Trane exorcisms Ascension and Om. He formed the original Monks of Saturnalia around that time, with Drew Phelps on bass and a revolving door of drummers and horn players. Gregg was the last guitarist to play in pioneering harmolodic drummer-composer Ronald Shannon Jackson's Decoding Society, and was onstage for Shannon's very last gig, at Oak Cliff's Kessler Theater, on July 7, 2012, when the setlist included Gregg's composition "He Walked Into the River," dedicated to free jazz martyr Albert Ayler.

Meeting the  Gonzalez siblings, Aaron and Stefan, Oak Cliff natives who'd grown up hearing punk through one ear and free jazz (via their father, musician-broadcaster-educator Dennis Gonzalez) through the other, led to Gregg joining ritualistic metal-jazz trio Unconscious Collective with them and releasing two albums under that rubric for Dallas indie Tofu Carnage. Good luck finding either of those records now, or Far from the Silvery Light, the sole artifact of They Say the Wind Made Them Crazy, a moody experimental duo with Sarah Ruth Alexander.

Those three records, all currently out of print but findable online, are the best documents extant of Gregg's music. However, there are plans for a recording and vinyl release by the fiery current lineup of Monks of Saturnalia, with a three horn frontline of Steve Brown, Dale Fielder, and Aidan Sears alongside Gregg, Drew Phelps, and drummer Alan Green. Currently, the only Monks recording online is this one from 2004, released digitally in 2022. All I ever need is something to look forward to.

Satoko Fujii's Quartet's "Burning Wick"

Well, shame on me. In my colossal arrogance, I posted my end of year listicle early, certain that I wouldn't hear anything in December to sway me from my choices, and I'm having to walk it back before we're even done with November. You never see what's around the corner.

What caught my ear, when I spun it late at night a couple of days ago, was Burning Wick, a November 21 release from a quartet led by the uber prolific pianist Satoko Fujii on her own Libra label. It's the ninth album from this unit, which also includes Fujii's husband, trumpeter Natsuki Tamura, bassist Takeharu Hayakawa, and drummer Tatsuya Yoshida. Fujii didn't begin recording until her 40s, but has rapidly made up for lost time, with over 100 releases to her name as a solo performer and leading both large and small ensembles. Tamura is her melodic foil and a leader in his own right. Hayakawa's a virtuoso on both electric and (on "Three Days Later" here) acoustic axes. 

The joker in this deck is Yoshida, a frequent collaborator of Fujii's who's best known for the whirlwind energy of his performances with his own bands Ruins and Kyoenjihyakkei. There's YouTube video of him playing in a trio with Japanese psychedelic noise overlords Keiji Haino and Makoto Kawabata that used to make my head spin even when I was deep into Japanoise outfits like High Rise and Mainliner. What's notable here is the discipline and focus Yoshida brings to his playing, even when there are moments of outre weirdness like the vocal interludes on "Walking Through the Border Town," a 12-minute track that neatly showcases all of this band's strengths, and "Mountain Gnome," with its thunderous bass-and-drums-of-doom interlude.

Indeed, Burning Wick contains some of Fujii's finest writing and arranging to date, and she uses all the tools in her tonal and textural palette to their best advantage. The music here is notable for its spareness and use of space, which brings all the elements into brilliant relief. At different times, all the players are heard in solo and duet episodes, as well as in full ensemble flight. The confluence of rock and jazz influences is particularly piquant; imagine if Keith Tippett had stuck around for the '73-'75 "flying brick wall" King Crimson, or if Keith Jarrett's American quartet had just flat out rocked. Another standout track is "Neverending Summer," with its insane stop-and-start passages that punctuate careening unaccompanied solos from each musician. All in all, Burning Wick just might be my favorite Satoko Fujii record, and, with Trio of Bloom, one of my albums of 2025. So there.