CD Reviews: James Ilgenfritz & Maroney/Ilgenfritz/Niescier/Drury

James Ilgenfritz
Compositions (Braxton) 2011
(Infrequent Seams) www.jamesilgenfritz.com

Next to solo drum albums, solo bass albums can be the most challenging of the lone-instrument albums. Solitary horns seem to have a wealth of sonic possibilities, and the piano and guitar can be whole bands unto themselves, but the timbre of the bass can prove limiting for all but the most devoted listeners. With that in mind, New York-based James Ilgenfritz gave himself twice the challenge when he went into the studio armed with his bass and a sheaf of compositions by Anthony Braxton. Presumably, it's hard enough to play the composer's music convincingly with an ensemble. Left to your own devices, there's myriad roads to travel.

Ilgenfritz has succeeded in this challenging project. Listeners don't need to be Braxton-philes to enjoy the album either, although I'm sure that helps. The bassist states in the liner notes that during the recordings, he typically had three music stands spread out in front of him, with at least 15 pages of music to draw on for inspiration. As a result, the six tracks typically feature pieces of at least four compositions, Language Music and/or Ghost Trance Material. One track includes a blend of 13 different pieces in the space of 19 minutes. While he moves from section to section, it never sounds like a case of jumping to something else simply because the going gets rough. For the most part, the segues sound planned and natural.

To the nascent Braxton fan, hearing a familiar strain, like the descending/ascending melody of "Composition 40F" acts like a beacon in a sonic fog. And it hangs around just long enough to leave its mark before disappearing into the more recent "Composition 223." This also functions in a manner similar to a Braxton performance, at least the one that occurred in Pittsburgh nearly five years ago, where he frequently wrote numbers on a chalk board and gave them as cues to members of his band. Incidentally, one of those heard that night pops up in the 19-minute epic, the written-through "23C," that appeared on the composer's first Arista album in the 1970s. (A recording of Marilyn Crispell, Mark Dresser and Gerry Hemingway came out on Tzadik this year that also includes "23C.")

While the compositions themselves sound engaging in their own right, Ilgenfritz offers ample proof that his performance skills should be getting more recognition. He tackles the music like a solo bass recitation of Braxton is second nature, and he keeps the energy level high with extended technique that draws some great noises from his instrument. His bowed harmonics never digress into nails-on-the-chalkboard scraping. Instead, they sometimes sound like a great blast of feedback. Elsewhere he gets some hypnotic low droning going. In one track that includes a transcription of the first trumpet cadenza from "Composition 103" (the third candenza shows up in a later track) Ilgenfritz begins with the grace of a cello and goes on to evoke the sound of an air raid siren.

Incidentally, Ilgenfritz chose not to include the visual representations of the compositions, opting instead to go with the numbers. Considering how many pieces he plays and what that would mean in terms of space on the cover, it was a wise decision.

Maroney/Ilgenfritz/Niescier/Drury
MiND GAMes
(OutNow) www.outnowrecordings.com

The bassist also plays in a number of different projects including this quartet, referred to as the acronym MiND, with pianist Denman Maroney, alto saxophonist Angelika Niescier and drummer Andrew Drury. Their disc alternates between free improvised tracks attributed to all four, and compositions by Maroney, Niescier and Ilgenfritz.

The first, spare group piece "Ledia House" unfolds gently, giving the impression that the session will lean heavily towards obtuse fragments of sound that bounce off each other as much as it will connect. Bowed scrapings, percussive waves and gentle saxophone trills ebb and flow for three tight minutes. But although the rest of the group pieces favor a spare type of improvisation where understatement is key (rather than going for cathartic blowing) the mood shifts immediately with the next track. Maroney's "One Off or Two" sounds comparatively like a bright, conventional sounding piece even though the pianist doesn't let you feel like you're on solid ground. The two-chord vamp and Niescier's crisp alto are underscored by a rhythm that keeps changing ever so slightly. Just when you think it's a waltzy stride, it shifts a little towards a choppy 4/4 and you wonder if you just heard it wrong initially. Then it feels like it's speeding up. Suffice to say, the title rings true.

Ilgenfritz's compositions feature shifting structures and points of focus. "Social Hypochondria" bounces back and forth between bowed bass and pretty alto and piano voicings. Maroney, who is known for playing "hyperpiano," utilizes some of those effects behind Niescier, bending notes and giving his instrument a more "prepared" percussive sound. "Canter," the bassist's other piece, sounds both beautiful and puzzling, with pregnant pauses from the piano which gets more and more in tune with Drury's unique approach to the drum kit. (He doesn't appear to use sticks for several songs, using instead bows and other items to create vibrations.) Although everyone is moving in parallel lines, it's easy to feel the focus and structure at the core of this music.

Niescier's "Warm Bist du Gekommen?" closes the album with 18 minutes that begin feeling quiet and loose but eventually settle into something that almost straightforward. With the composer virtually taking a backseat to her bandmates until the last five minutes, they almost sound like an exploratory straightahead jazz trio - albeit one on a record that's been a little warped (again, thanks to Maroney's reinvention of his piano's innards.) Not to give the pianist all the glory, but tweaking a mammoth instrument like the piano is no small feat. And it sounds good.

CD Review: James Ilgenfritz + Brian Chase + Robbie Lee - Loss and Gain

James Ilgenfritz + Brian Chase + Robbie Lee

Loss and Gain

(Infrequent Seams) www.infrequentseams.com

Sometimes when writing critically about improvised music, detecting a good performances seems akin to Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart's famous 1964 assessment of obscenity: "I know it when I see it." When I hear it, that is. 

Sometimes good musicians can produce bad free improv. Sometimes unskilled musicians have a knack for creating a rich combination of sounds. I've also seen some musicians who think a steady diet of everything from Derek Bailey to Charles Mingus makes them a good player, but that's another cranky post for some other time.

Describing free improvisation in non-musical terms can evoke the spirit of the performance, but it's also just as likely to generate an eyeroll from this writer if things go too far. Too often I've read notes that seem so intent on not writing like some stodgy jazz critic that it comes off more like a Dr. Seuss-meets-a-musical-astrologist take on things. Yes, I know you don't want to say that a sax player merely blows one overtone like crazy, but talking about the universe and vibrations can get flowery as well.

In the notes to Loss and Gain, bassist James Ilgenfritz discusses the dynamics that come into play when three musicians get together and improvise. Rather than getting self-absorbed or high minded, he speaks realistically, pondering how a dialogue will unfold, and how discussions (or lack of them) can impact the performance. Listening to your fellow performers is key here, because it helps you to figure out how to react and it determines where the sound will go.

Ilgenfritz, Brian Chase (drumset) and Robbie Lee (saxophones, recorders, flutes, electronics) came to Pittsburgh in 2018, two years after Loss and Gain was recorded. (See a few words about that show here.) They performed at the Mattress Factory in a space with hardwood floors and high ceilings. The setting added to the performance because it made the acoustic music resonate and sound richer. Chase (also of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and a player on Jessica Pavone's recent Lull) played with restraint, making sure not to overpower his bandmates. And Lee had some wild looking recorders that he played.

The trio had already sharpened their listening skills when they went into the studio to record this album. Composing credits on the tracks are given to all three, save for "Happening." That track appears around the mid-way point and gives Chase sole credit, which means it might be the one that was composed - or at least planned - in advance. 

Without looking at the disc player, one track often flows into the next. Only one reaches beyond five minutes ("Happening") and another doesn't even last two minutes. Hearing free improvisation in short segments can be intriguing, leaving you to wonder if editing cut a track short, or if the band's thought at that moment was complete. In "Holding Tight," Ilgenfritz puts down the bow and plucks what almost seems like a response to Lee's cooing recorder. Chase's cymbals ping in the background, disappear and then reappear constantly. Then it's over, after just 2:35. Is that it? 

Maybe it's just a lead-in to "Happening," which, like a few other pieces, recalls (to my ears) the drones of "2/2" on Eno's Music for Airports. Recorder and bowed bass work so closely here that it can be hard to separate them. If their tones don't mesh, it feels more like one of them is implying a resolution to what the other guy is playing. The drums come and go, again, adding color to the sound.

Up to this point, the album has felt a bit subdued. Lee plays recorder most of the time on the early tracks, focusing on long tones. It adds a warm feeling to the sound, contrasting with the bass, which sometimes feels like it's on the edge of something more tense.

On the second half, Lee brings in some clarinet and sopranino sax which sonically, if nothing else, makes this feel like free jazz. "No Answer" features the latter reed, and some rumbling from Ilgenfritz, who sounds like he's playing the five-string bass he brought to the Mattress Factory (or else he engaged in some detuning). In the comically titled "Wwwbwwwwb - In between," Chase creates a steady pulse that adds to the low bowing and recorder dialogue. When they wrap up with "Finally (After)," it's Ilgenfritz's turn to pluck a snaky vamp. It's not really bluesy, but the way the cymbals and flute navigate the bass line, it sounds like some new blues. Or maybe it's just another way that these three lock in to each other's minds.

Will Butler, Hypercolor in Pittsburgh

But first, before I get to the titular subjects, I have to do a what-I've-been-up-to introduction, because it's been a handful. I'm not one of those bloggers who can give immediate updates at the drop of a hat.

Yesterday was the first Monday in a few weeks where I didn't have a story to work on or an interview to conduct. Or both, which I think might have been the case recently. Last week, I returned to Blurt after a long hiatus of writing for them. I reviewed the new album by Australia's Dick Diver which you can find here. It has yet to run, but I also interviewed Mark Stein, organist for Vanilla Fudge. With SXSW coming up this week, Blurt will probably go on hold for a spell. But as soon as I can say, "here comes the Fudge," I will let you know when that article drops.

Mr. Stein was a good egg too. Turns out the band is still loathe to talk about the sophomore slump LP The Beat Goes On, but like a trooper, he did anyhow. We also discussed the start of the band, as well as the making of their new album - yes, they're still at it - Spirit of '67.

Last week Arcade Fire's Will Butler played a sold-out show at Brillobox, which I believe I was the only person to preview in the local press.  Maybe it was clear it was going to sell out, so no hype was necessary. But, dang, was anyone curious what it was going to sound like?

Butler put on a good show, with a four-piece band of himself on guitar and keyboards, drummer, second keyboardist and back-up vocalist. His album (if you can call it that because it only has eight songs, most of them under four minutes apiece) Policy runs the gamut, stylistically, as did the show. "What I Want" had the power chord attack of the Buzzcocks while, one song later, "Anna" sounded like Suicide, with an unrelenting keyboard riff. The album had only been released two days prior, but the audience - which probably numbered in the high 100s, whatever the capacity is at Brillo' - seemed familiar enough with it and ate it up.

The UK newspaper The Guardian struck a deal with Butler a couple weeks ago where he wrote a song a day for five days, based on articles he read on their masthead. Results were then posted on Soundcloud. The idea might sound dubious, but the results are actually pretty strong. Among the ones he played at the show, "Madonna Won't Save You," is one of the most memorable, if nothing else for its opening line of "You can spend all day/ breaking hearts with a/ sledgehammer and a glass of milk." Weird lyrical non-sequiturs like that also show up on the album too and act as some of the more memorable aspects of the release.

Even though he might only have scant material available now, Butler and the crew weren't lacking for a set. They plowed from one song into another, with little time left for banter, though Butler gave a shout-out to former Pirate Andy Van Slyke later in the set. The back-up vocalist and keyboardist had some dance moves going later in the evening. The fact that they weren't quite synchronized added to the charm, making it seem more like the inspiration of the moment got them moving.

Two nights prior to that show, avant/prog-rock/noise/experimental jazz trio Hypercolor played at Howler's. They were touring behind a new self-titled release on Tzadik. Drummer Lukas Ligeti, guitarist Eyal Maoz and bassist James Ilgenfritz play music that gets heavy at times but never bombastic. Ligeti's drumming sounded especially propulsive early in the set, getting things off to a strong start. Maoz, who sits while playing, worked a bunch of pedals to keep the textures evolving, while Ilgenfritz used the six-string bass in a manner that you don't see very often. He jammed econo on it, to put it one way.

All three of these cats have numerous projects going on, so there was a plethora of CDs to peruse after the show. Ilgenfritz, who has released a solo-bass disc of Anthony Braxton compositions, had a disc that came out that day of an opera he wrote based on William S. Burroughs' The Ticket That Exploded. I also picked up a disc of a project called Colonic Youth, which includes drummer Kevin Shea on it.

Hypercolor's showkicks off a pretty intense six-week slew of jazz performances in Pittsburgh. To be self-serving for a moment, I'll only list one - Hearing Things, a trio of Matt Bauder/Vinnie Sperrazza/JP Schlegelmilch, who play something closer to '60s instrumental. They're playing at Howlers on Sunday, March 22 with my band, the Love Letters.

Live Shows in Review: Ilgenfritz, Moran, Ethnic Heritage Ensemble, Code Girl

Playing right now: Mary Halvorson Quartet Plays Masada Book Two

Back when I started this blog, most of the entries began with the name of whatever I was listening to at the moment that I was writing. Back then I could fire off a set of words while music was playing in the background. These days, not so much. That's due in large part to the fact that I'm usually reviewing an album and I feel like I can't do that while listening to something else. Or even listen the album in question, because my cautious nature makes me feel like I might be missing something if I listen with half an ear....

Anyhow, I have a backlog of photos from the past few weeks of shows, so it was time to post them. First of all, back on Thursday, February 22, bassist James Ilgenfritz came back to town, along with drummer Brian Chase and woodwind multi-instrumentalist Robbie Lee. The performance was presented by Alia Musica and took place at the Mattress Factory.  

The space's high ceilings are hardwood floors served as a good spot, acoustically, for the trio. Unfortunately, I got there late and missed about half of the performance. Right as I was walking in, Lee was setting down an oversized recorder-type instrument. (Later that night, Ben Opie pulled out a picture of Michael Pestel playing such an instrument during the 2008 performance at the National Aviary with Opie, Anthony Braxton and a few other musicians.) 

Before the set was through, though, Lee also played some flute and sopranino sax. Chase, who has also played with local native Andrea Parkins and with groups like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, has some great splatter effect moments on the drum kit. Ilgenfritz, playing a five-string upright bass (with a removable neck, to boot) played some great bowed drones and exciting runs all over his instrument. If only there had been a second set.

Nine days later, Jason Moran and Bandwagon played at the Kelly-Strayhorn Theater, in a show presented by Kente Arts Alliance. The group began the set in darkness, with Moran setting up the introduction of "Feed the Fire," a Geri Allen composition. Having heard the trio on several albums, it was exciting seeing them live. Nasheet Waits is the type of drummer that propels any group in which he plays. Tarus Mateen, on bass guitar not upright bass, can play rapid lines on his instrument without ever overpowering the group or sounding too busy. Then there's Moran who like his mentor the late Jaki Byard, is well-versed in numerous styles of piano and can draw on any number of them at a moment's notice. Like Byard, this isn't mere mimicry either. He went from Earl "Fatha" Hines to Cecil Taylor and back throughout their evening.

During the set, and afterwards during the talk back with Kente's Mensah Wali, Moran's reverence for Pittsburgh's jazz history continued. "Pittsburgh takes care of its legacy," he said later, offering a reminder not to take the city's musical history for granted. His set included several originals but it also featured revised versions of some classics. He played Thelonious Monk's "Thelonious" with blistering speed. "Body and Soul," a song done umpteen times over the years sounded fresh and different, and nothing like any "Body and Soul" you've ever heard.

A short time later in Lawrenceville, the smaller room in Cattivo (aka the one right above where Goth Night was loudly taking place) was the space to catch the Ethnic Heritage Ensemble. This time drummer/percussionist Kahil El'Zabar played with trumpeter Corey Wilkes and baritone saxophonist Alex Harding. Wilkes has been a fairly regular member of the group on visits here, and though Harding came with the group once last year, this was my first time seeing him in Pittsburgh. Several years ago he knocked my socks off as a soloist in David Murray's Big Band at the Detroit Jazz Festival. (When I found out who he was that night, I realized he was a member of the group Grass Roots with saxophonist Darius Jones, bassist Sean Conly and drummer Chad Taylor, who released a great album on AUM Fidelity.)

The evening combined straight ahead tunes like "Bebop," adapted to fit the stripped down sound of the trio, as well as El'Zabar standard's like "Can You Find a Place," where he plays finger piano and keeps a pulse with ankle bells, mixing spirituality with AACM-style soloing. Harding proved that deserves a lot more attention. He can utilize the low down weight of his instrument or lift into the upper register, creating light and graceful moments as needed. He did both that night. Wilkes was gets better and better each time he comes to town. (I took pictures but they got lost when transferring data to a new phone.) PS - Alex Harding is set to come back to Pittsburgh on Friday, April 19.

Mary Halvorson brought her Code Girl project to the Warhol Museum last Wednesday, March 7. The group, as stated in an earlier post, includes the guitarist's Thumbscrew bandmates Michael Formanek (bass) and Tomas Fujiwara (drums), adding Ambrose Akinmusire (trumpet) and Amirtha Kidanbi. 

The inclusion of vocals, which frequently veered into torrid wails similar to Shelley Hirsch or Jeanne Lee, occasionally felt a little too unhinged, Kidambi gave a dynamic performance. During "And" she unleashed a long tone with the power of an opera singer, an image that was confirmed by her stance at an angle in front of her microphone. As the set wore, Kidambi's voice seemed to function more as a third voice between Halvorson and Akinmusire, and she easily handled the task of standing between those two.

Akinmusire's part in "And" began with a warm tone that is typically heard from a flugelhorn. But he quickly traded that warmth for some intense tonguing. Later in the set, he straddled a sweet sound with one that sounded like it was coming through a fuzz pedal. I knew he was a great player, but he really blew the lid of the place.

As far as Halvorson herself, the set has to be one of the best performances I've heard from her, up there with her Septet's performance at the 2014 Winter Jazz Fest. (I've seen her other times in Pittsburgh and New York, but these were my favorites.) Her playing was especially intense, whether it was the finger picking of "Pretty Mountain," the indie rock-style of "Storm Cloud" or the raw solos she unleashed during the set. Code Girl was a heavy listen with changes coming at the ears left and right. But seeing the quintet put it all together live (the first show of the tour, to boot), it made a lot of sense.

CD Review: Trio Caveat/Josh Sinton - Introspective Athletics/Pine Barren

Trio Caveat - Introspective Athletics/ Josh Sinton - Pine Barren

(Engine)

(Note: The website for Engine seems to have vanished. The url I listed a couple years ago in a review doesn't work anymore. There are a couple different labels with this name, but it is NOT the one that's in Germany, nor is it the one that James McCartney records for. And by the way, who know that Baby Sir Paul was making music?)

Punk rock bands do split singles and split albums all the time, so it's about time that avant garde cats took that idea and ran with it. This is one time that it makes sense to release a 72-minute disc rather than two 36-minute ones. Further, Engine's production sense (covers printed on recycled chipboard, complete with detailed credits) offers a different take on jamming econo.

Trio Caveat consists of bassist James Ilgenfritz, tenor/soprano saxophonist Jonathan Moritz and guitarist Chris Welcome. With an opening track titled "Clicks, Beeps, Buzzing," it becomes clear that the group gets into free improvisation, with a healthy attitude towards the sounds they create, if the titles are any indication. Things begin with each of them feeling the space, producing some plinking, bowing and blowing, with no one letting a line get too long. This is a subdued free improvisation.

Although Moritz blows almost as hard for quiet sections as the loud ones, this session is not a demonstration of extended techniques, where this reed style joins a steady stream of bows that scrape out extreme harmonics and guitars are ravaged beneath the bridge or over the pick-ups. In fact, "Introspective Athletics" glides along as if it were a composed piece, like a ballad that meets some tension along the way. At 6:57, it's also one of only two tracks out of nine that come in over six minutes. Most are five or under.

Not to write off the aforementioned type of extreme improv, but Trio Caveat balances the temptation for extreme free blowing with measured, empathetic interaction. Ilgenfritz and Moritz seem to naturally pull back in "Fractured Flakes, Torrent of Frantic" to let Welcome play a twangy solo that moves upward. The bassist has the spotlight for his own strong arco approach in "Mellifluous Chirps." Moritz works like the glue that holds it together, going from wild bird noises to more orthodox blowing. It's extreme music but it's very engaging.

Josh Sinton describes his solo saxophone and clarinet album as "a (poor) attempt at spiritual alchemy. I made it in the hopes that my own relived memories would not haunt my daughter Zosia." It's probably a good idea to keep these tracks from Zosia for a few years. Everyone else should check them out.

Sinton's axes of choice work well in the solo format: baritone saxophone, bass clarinet and contrabass clarinet. "Water for My Father" begins softly with a quiet, simple melody, only to explode as Sinton simultaneously blows and growls through his baritone. Perhaps in response that intense, visceral delivery, "The Earth for My Father" finds him firing off rapid arpeggios up and down his horn via circular breathing, as to prove to Pop he knows his way around the horn. Even though it's an exercise, Sinton makes it work as a performance too.

A track called "My Clarinet Teacher" begins with Sinton intoning, "Eeeeeeeesential principles of good clarinet playing," and going into some catchy bass clarinet licks that digress into nasty honks. Again, he balances out the wild and wooly with the pensive "I'm Still Trying."

By the time "Full of it... Love, That Is" comes around, it comes as no surprise that Sinton would dive into the contrabass clarinet's lower register for some ugly squonk. (Hell, I would too.) What's refreshing is his command of the instrument, which sounds like a cross between a gong and an industrial vacuum cleaner. For album closer "Through the Trees I Saw Stone Caves on a Beach," Sinton overdubs all three horns (some multiple times) to create a densely layered, somewhat repetitive, rhythmically loose but ultimately satisfying work that proves these big horns can float easily when given the right ideas.

If he sounds this good on his own, I'd like to hear him with a group.

Live Shows in Pittsburgh from the Last 10 Days

This past weekend was relatively low key as far as shows that I got to see. But the weekend of March 10 was pretty full, with music and adventure. Allow me to hit "Rewind."

On Friday the 10th, Kente Arts Alliance presented the Whitfield Family Band, lead by guitarist Mark Whitfield. His son Davis played piano, with Mark Jr., on drums. Luques Curtis played bass, though he wasn't the bassist on the recent Grace album.

They work in a fairly straightahead style, heavy on energy and strong chops from all parties. Pop Mark excels at long, clear guitar lines, occasionally going into Grant Green-style locked riffs, though he does it a lot faster than Green did. Davis Whitfield was really impressive on piano, soloing over vamps in a way with heavy, chordal melodies. He frequently switched over to an electric keyboard for some Fender Rhodes ambience, but it never sounded pre-fab. Mark Jr., swings with a real elastic style, stretching the beat and giving it spark.

Local guitarist Mark Strickland opened the night with a classic lineup by Pittsburgh veterans Lou Stellute (tenor), Keith Stebler (B3 organ-via-keyboard) and drums (Roger Humphries). Their set had a lot of meat and grease, including a good choice to celebrate Thelonious Monk's upcoming 100th birthday: "Well You Needn't."

From there, I headed over to Gooski's for the tribute to Dave V(ucenich). Since Dave's funeral was closer to his hometown in Harrisburg, friends Eric Vermillion and Max Terasauro put together an evening that saluted him. In his spirit, there were DJs spinning garage and psych rock singles that he loved so much. Gregg Kostelich from the Cynics had DJ'd first so I missed him. Tara Dactyl was playing slow, heavy psych, one of Dave's favorite styles, according to Vermillion.

After awhile, Joe (drums) and Kurt (guitar) from Dave's former band the Mt. McKinleys got up and played a set. At their largest, the group was a quintet, complete with bass, another guitar and theremin. But on this night, they had all they needed to rip it up. It can be hard to play high energy music like that when there are reminders all around that your musical conspirator is gone. But Joe and Kurt played like their lives depended on it, living for the moment, pouring everything into it. And the mood was anything but sad while they did it. That's the way all shows should be, not just a memorial one.

Another part of the evening was an auction for Dave's Hofner Beatle Bass. That would have been so tempting because it's one of two basses that I'd like own in addition to my Rickenbacher. But I don't have the dough for it, and since all the proceeds were going to the Vucenich family (or to an animal shelter of their choice), it wouldn't have been right to skimp on the money for the instrument. Right before the McKinleys' set, the amount was up to about $300. Whoever got it really made out.

Distro is a new "space" located in Bloomfield, upstairs of a former beer distributor. And when I say "space," I do mean a room with some seats, a p.a., a big rug to designate a performance area and not much else. (There's a piano there too, but that's off limits, as some of us found out the hard way.) However, being there the following evening took me back to shows that I saw at CMU around 1991 or 1992. A bunch of folks were milling about, talking amongst each other, checking out music, cheering on the performers.

On Saturday night, the 11th, Distro hosted the Duke of Knee Festival: Unread Records Release #201. The Unread imprint has been around for 20 years, run from different cities by Chris Fischer, with 200 releases coming in the form of albums, 7"s and cassettes. In Pittsburgh (where Chris now lives), Will Simmons & the Upholsterers are but one act that's appeared on the label. Simmons took it upon himself to organize a show that brought Unread family members from as far away at Portland to our fair city to celebrate the imprint's 200th release. A three-cassette compilation was also assembled to mark the occasion. The label's homespun approach might be another reason why I felt transported back to the early '90s - it recalled the heyday of K Records, back when they'd print their catalog on newsprint and mail it out every few months. Several people had music for sale. One guy was even selling a delectable box of '90s indie rock for insanely good prices. I picked up the Meat Puppets for album for $3 and a Bitch Magnet album for $4. I would've bought more had I not been short on cash.

A total of 16 acts were slated to play on Saturday, each for a total of 20 minutes. What I caught while I was there stuck pretty close to the time limit. Chauchat was getting underway with a set of gentle acoustic indie pop, with random sounds floating over top of the harmonies. Andy Cigarettes - once he blew our eardrums with his accidentally too-loud backing tracks - sang a great set of new wave-y pop. For a guy who traveled all the way from the Pacific Northwest, he still looked sharp in a red suit (or was he wearing a red shirt with a black suit?). Will and the Upholsterers took the Husker Du/Minutemen approach and played 10 songs in 20 minutes. In fact he said they nailed them 18 minutes. Talk about jamming econo!

Monday evening, I headed over to Mr. Smalls, not to see Tortoise but to conduct a Before and After listening test with their guitarist Jeff Parker. I did get to hear a bit of their sound check and admire their stage set up: two drum kits center stage, flanked on a set of vibes at stage left, keyboard behind the other trap kit, table of laptops behind the drums, bass and guitar towards the back. Jeff and I made our way out to the tour bus after sound check, and sat for about 90 minutes listening to music and talking. We had a great time, which you'll be able to read about in a few months. Much as I would've liked to stay, I was back to Oakland to the Carnegie Music Hall for..........

PATTI SMITH!

As I made my way up the stairs to my seat, I could hear the chorus of "Gloria" spilling out of the concert hall. Between driving from Millvale and trying to park in Oakland, I felt damn lucky that I hadn't missed more. Have to say the tempo seemed a tad slower than the version on the album, but you know - Patti just turned 70 so again (to use my grandmother's phrase), we should be damn lucky she was there. And that we were!

I don't think I need to do a play-by-play of the show. Scott Mervis at the Post-Gazette already did that last week. And if you weren't there, reading about it might just make you sad you missed it. In my preview to the show, I mentioned in passing that Patti might draw on her love Johnny Carson in her between-song banter. (She has admitted to several people that she admired the Tonight Show host's delivery.) She did, to some extent. When she was feeling exhausted between songs, she chalked it up to the impending snow storm (which never came, by the way) and took a brief stroll offstage for some air.

"Birdland" has always been a special piece to me, for years before I related to the protagonist. I had to shush a friend sitting next to me for talking during this tune. First of all because, why would you pay $39 or more to see Patti Smith and talk through the show?! Second of all, hearing Horses in its entirety (played in order) is akin to going to church. Just listen. Soak it in. Thankfully, she did.

For her encore, she and the band ripped through the Who's "My Generation," which she first covered as the B-side to the "Gloria" single. As the song moved towards a free-for-all coda, Patti strapped on a guitar and played it the way I like to play it - like a noise maker. She also spat fire about her generation wanting to change the world with love, "and what do we get?! Donald F&^*ing T----!" You could have seen it coming a mile away, but who can blame her. Of course the audience roared. She eventually yanked what seemed like all six strings off her guitar, providing the fitting ending to the evening. I took a video of some of that, but it's just a tad to big to appear here. FIE!

Five days later, on Friday the 17th, bassist James Ilgenfritz came to Distro for a solo bass performance. That might sound like quite a specialized type of show, but he played four pieces by other composers that were written for him. He didn't say that the first piece required him to retune his instrument to get the arco drones of the piece just right, so it was really fascinating to watch what he pulled out of the instrument. The music seemed to go on for awhile but it got pretty hypnotic. I'll admit I was a bit exhausted by the end of the night but the set helped me relax and start to hallucinate sleepy dreams. (Luckily I didn't fall out of my chair.)

Ben Opie, who also played solo, joined Ilgenfritz for a few Anthony Braxton tunes after the bassist's proper set. (James released a disc of Braxton pieces for solo bass in 2012.) The evening also included short but sweet sets by the tenor/bass clarinet and drums duo of Snake Pilson and guitar/saxophone solo act Nevhar Anhar.

CD Review: Yoni Kretzmer 2Bass Quartet - Book II

Yoni Kretzmer 2Bass Quartet
Book II
(Out Now) outnowrecordings.com

Tenor saxophonist Yoni Kretzmer reached out by way of social media a few months ago, sending this CD. The imprint Out Now sports a catalog of free-minded players whose music is utilizes both compositions (however sketchy) and free blowing. (One disc, that features bassist James Ilgenfritz and pianist Denmon Maroney was reviewed here.)

A native of Tel Aviv who's lived in Brooklyn for about five years, Kretzmer follows in the tradition of more recent gale-force wailers like David S. Ware, with roots extending back to the passionate delivery of Albert Ayler. To that end, the album begins with a two-note salvo from the tenor that he bends with heavy vibrato as he holds the notes. It has a spiritual flair to it which announces that this set might be wild and free, but nuance will play a big part of it.

The use of two basses plays a significant part in the group's sense of nuance. Panned separately between both channels (with no indication of who is who) Reuben Radding and Sean Conly work together to buttress Kretzmer's playing and add additional color to it. Frequently, one of them bows a countermelody while the other acts as a pizzicato support player. It can be easy to let this music turn muddy with low end sounds, but that's never an issue on this album. Drummer Mike Pride assists in that regard, adding the type of explosions and punctuation that drive the music and add more passion to it.

The group had been together for four years by the time of this recording and the rapport shows in the music. They leave plenty of the music up to chance, but they know how to elevate things rather than pulling it in different directions. "Freezaj" goes for broke in terms of raw energy, bookended by a drum solo and a bass duet. Conversely, "Stick Tune" starts in a frenzy and then drops down dynamically, where a slow theme reveals itself before the quartet slowly builds back up to a loud joyful climax. Throughout, Kretzmer plays with an arresting blend of low, throaty notes (with a rich tone that betrays a musical knowledge that extends beyond just his wild forefathers) and he exemplifies the same level of command in the upper register of his horn. "Ballad" might not be exactly romantic in the traditional sense, but it takes the mood down and reveals all of Kretzmer's strengths in a directed three-minute blast.

A two-CD set, Book II's second disc is devoted entirely to "Number 4," a nearly 20-minute excursion where the lines between composition and improvisation are hard to discern. It begins on slightly shaky ground: As the basses and drums roll away, Kretzmer bends the hell out of a two-note trill, running them through every color and reed manipulation, until - after four minutes of this - the rhythm section leaves him alone briefly, and counterattacks with both basses utilizing their bows and plunging the depths. But it all works like an extended free introduction, since Kretzmer returns with a line that puts it all in perspective. (It sounded like Miles Davis' "Four" gets a quick reference from him at one point.) At this point, what might have seemed indulgent makes perfect sense, and what follows never lacks vigor or direction. Good times.