Fort Worth, 11.6.2025

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, 11.3.2025

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.

Denton, 11.19.2025

For this month's Joan of Bark Presents at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios, curator Sarah Ruth Alexander added a new wrinkle, driven by her love of poetry (dating back to childhood exposure to Carl Sandberg's "Fog" -- a fave of mine back when too). In between the musical performances, this evening's program featured five readers declaiming poetry (by others, or their own) -- an inspired choice that changed the rhythm and flow of the evening in a good way, I think. 

Composer Kory Reeder read a poem from a favorite collection, then Sarah Ruth and Melanie Little Smith played an improvised set with a graceful ebb and flow and an elegiac tone, starting with a somber theme on dual harmoniums. The musicians donned veils and faced away from the audience as they moved through episodes of electronically sampled vocals, electronic effects and percussion, wood flutes and vocal interjections that floated on the music.

At one point, Smith repeated a plaintive "Where are you?" which Alexander countered with screams before they returned to the harmonium theme. Because I live under a rock in Fort Worth, it was only later that I learned that Smith's husband and collaborator Des Smith -- their mural work adorns several locations in Denton -- passed in August. That knowledge made Suzanne Terry's reading of an original poem about surviving cancer (which followed Smith and Alexander's set) particularly poignant. Smith is an artist of singular intelligence who is unafraid to express powerful emotions onstage. 

Veronica Anne Salinas is a deep listener and sound artist currently based in Marfa, where she's the Chinati Foundation's 2025 Land Management Fellow, and her performance incorporated field recordings, sound processing, and the acoustics of the greatly improved Rubber Room to create an immersive environment that was conducive to slow breathing and contemplation. The soundscape she created evoked the power of winds or oceans, unfolding slowly until she introduced an element of pulse, culminating in a cleansing crescendo. A compelling and dynamic experience that also lowered my blood pressure. 

Featured reader Tammy Melody Gomez gave a performance that combined skillfully crafted imagery with forceful delivery, drawing on a large back catalog of material to create a statement that was thoroughly of the moment, emotive and cathartic, her cadence and inflection driving with the force of a runaway locomotive (or a punk band on a particularly good night). Gomez hosts Second Sunday Spoken Word at Fort Worth's Arts Fifth Avenue and in that setting, where she creates a welcoming space for writers to present work and receive feedback, her own performances can be somewhat muted. Here, it was invigorating to hear her in full flight, feeding on the energy from an appreciative crowd as she performed her verbal exorcism. 

I missed the first performance by Tammy's Bandinha at the Grackle Art Gallery in Fort Worth, but I was fascinated by the lineup. Violinist Tamara Cauble Brown's CV includes stints with Telegraph Canyon, Polyphonic Spree, and Clint Niosi, but I never really envisioned her as a free improviser. Likewise pianist-vocalist Paul Slavens, whose own work, solo and with Ten Hands, is primarily geared toward songcraft (although he's acquitted himself well in improv lottery situations I've witnessed). 

On the other hand, bassist Aaron Gonzalez (who'd earlier intoned some of his own poetry, marked by his characteristic quirkily humorous wordplay, and a heartfelt tribute to Daron Beck) brought a breadth and depth of improv experience to the table, and helped ground and channel the group's flow. Drummer Eddie Dunlap, veteran of Master Cylinder, Mondo Drummers, years in the Jubilee Theatre pit band, Rage Out Arkestra, and now Hijazz Ensemble, is a special musician who elevates any ensemble he performs with. 

Together, the four are clearly feeling their way, but everyone involved is listening and leaving space, responding to what the others play and not trying to bogart the conversation. The first couple of numbers felt tentative, but the players had the discernment to end them at a sensible point, rather than meandering. A burst of vocal gibberish from Gonzalez prompted a Dada-esque explosion, with vocal hijinks all around. The last piece was the best, replete with hints of ideas to be developed in the future. There's a freshness to this musical conversation that brims with promise. I look forward to hearing how it develops.

That left it for your humble chronicler o' events to close things out with some Fort Worth bragging and some new scrawl I penned for Sarah Ruth when she extended the invitation. This year's Joan of Bark Fest takes place on Saturday, December 13, and includes a sound walk along with a stacked bill. Don't you dare miss it.

End of year listicle: 2025

I find it ironic that in a year in which I vowed to forego writing in favor of activism (an intention I have, for the most part, honored), I was asked to participate in the Downbeat Critics' Poll -- an indication, I suppose, that with the ranks of "legit" critics being thinned by the morbidity of legacy daily and weekly rags, they're forced to reach down into the muck and mire of the blogosphere to shore up their ranks. I got a nice T-shirt, and because DB (like NYC) uses ranked choice voting, not all of my votes were statistically insignificant. This is going to be a quick one, because I have other activist and musician shit to attend to, having returned to the boards against all odds in both solo acoustic (Stashdauber/Folknik) and electric trio (STC) guises. You never know what's around the corner. 

I find it heartening that I saw six out of ten acts represented here live. Other live things I like: 1) The return to performance of Gregg Prickett's Monks of Saturnalia, and the prospect of a release from them. 2) The inception of a fledgling new music outfit, Denton's Minerva Contemporary Ensemble. 3) The inclusion on a regular basis of dancers in experimental and new music performances. 4) The continuation of adventurous booking policies at Fort Worth's Grackle Art Gallery, Dallas' Full City Rooster, The Wild Detectives, New Media Contemporary, and Texas Theatre, and Denton's Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios. 

Finally, remember, kids: Your freedom comes with responsibility attached. Accept it, embrace it, live it. So there.

1) Craig Taborn/Nels Cline/Marcus Gilmore -- Trio of Bloom (Pyroclastic). Three top notch improvising composers join forces to remind me of everything I loved about '70s fusion. Produced by David Breskin, of course.

2) Richard Dawson -- End of the Middle (Weird World). Geordie singer-songwriter whose every song is like a Mike Leigh film in miniature. This might be my favorite album of his, although Peasant and 2020 continue to signify.

3) Patricia Brennan -- Of Near and Far (Pyroclastic). The great new voice on her axe (vibraphone) continues to expand her compositional vision along with the size of her ensemble. 

4) Darrifourcq Hermia Ceccaldi -- Unicorn and Flexibility (Hector). French trio of saxophone-cello-bass and you can tell it's the drummer's band. Prog rock meets Euro improv and kicks much ass.

5) Hemphill Stringtet -- Plays the Music of Julius Hemphill (Out of Your Head). All-star unit helmed by Sam Bardfeld and Tomeka Reid reimagines the master of multi-horn polyphony's works (including a Mingus tribute) for strings.

6) Solan Dorr -- Vol. 1: Pale Face, Pale Moon and Vol. 2: Pattern and Shadows (Bandcamp). Led by Debussy-via-Keith Jarrett channeling polymath Taylor Collins, two generous length (82 and 76 minutes, respectively) digital volumes bring intelligent psychedelia into the 21st century.

7) Senso di Voce -- Through Itself (Sonic Transmissions). Two gifted improvisers explore mystical and philosophical concepts through composed chamber music and live extemporizations.

8) Sandy Ewen -- Little Tour Down to Texas and Back (scatter/Archive). A truly singular voice on guitar, influenced by but not in thrall to Keith Rowe, in a surfeit of solo improvisations. I witnessed one from five feet away and was thrilled by her resolution and invention. "Improvised music is transient.... It's not meant to be precious." Amen.

9) Smothered -- Dirty Laundry (No label). Courageously intimate garage rock, replete with smart songwriting and the sound of surprise. Their release show, played outdoors in freezing temperatures, is a lifetime Top 10 for your humble chronicler o' events. These kids (pictured above), fronted by Taylor Watt, have heart. 

10) El Mantis -- El Lago de los Ciegos (No label). Houston's great free jazz-Latin rock fusion in their first outing as a quintet. I saw them perform this in its entirety before reedman Danny Kamins took a season off to kick cancer's ass. Stirring stuff. 

Fort Worth, 11.8.2025

We headed over to Arts Fifth Avenue to catch the Johnny Case Trio, appearing as part of Arts Fifth's Second Saturday Jazz series. For 24 years, Gracey Tune's venue has provided a listening space for jazz, including an annual Django Reinhardt festival (originated by the late Slim Richey) and tributes to esteemed reedman James Clay (who my late buddy Jim Yanaway recorded at Caravan of Dreams). 

The estimable pianist Mr. Case is justifiably famous for having held down Fort Worth's longest-lived jazz gig (28 years!) at Sardines Ristorante Italiano, once every Fort Worthian's favorite date spot and a gateway to jazz for many (another: the Sunday night sessions at the late Tad Gaither's Black Dog Tavern, whose legacy is now carried on by Joey Carter and Paul Metzger at the Scat Jazz Lounge).

What Johnny represents to me is the jazz tradition before it was co-opted by academia and transformed from an ephemeral art informed by individuality into a canon of techniques and conventions that could be reproduced. With ears big enough to hear both Bob Wills and Cecil Taylor, Johnny is equally well versed in western swing and jazz modernism. His mother Floy Case, an early country music scribe and familiar of Ernest Tubb, is in the Country Music Hall of Fame. His brother Jerry, who passed in 2023, was a guitarist with whom he collaborated. 

Johnny mentored and encouraged generations of jazz players in Fort Worth, and turned overtly political following the invasion of Iraq in 2003. He is as well versed in the history of American popular song -- the "Great American Songbook" repertoire -- as he is in the rhythmic and harmonic innovations of his jazz predecessors. He is a unique treasure in a city that underappreciates its jazz heritage (from I.M. Terrell High School through Caravan of Dreams).

His current trio includes virtuoso bassist Nathan Phelps, son of ubiquitous Denton low-end master Drew Phelps and a CalArts graduate, and Keith Wingate, a jazz man for all seasons, on drums. I have history with Keith going back to when I used to write about his trio with Chuck Brown and Lucas White for the Fort Worth Weekly (where Gayle Reaves, also in attendance last night, beat all the Lester Bangs wannabe-ism out of me, to my great benefit) -- a unit that mixed '70s fusion repertoire with Beatle covers. 

When Keith heard I'd sold all my musical equipment after getting fired from my tech writing job at RadioShack, he gifted me a guitar and amp that got me through two years of house band gigs at the Wreck Room (RIP). When his children, now college age, were still small, he transposed his entire repertoire to the ukulele, because it was easier to carry when he was out and about with the kids. Over the years, Keith repeatedly reinvented himself, first as a stand-up bassist, then (seven years ago) as a drummer, to gig with Johnny. Luckily for us, he still gigs on guitar, too; I plan to be present on December 11, when he plays solo during happy hour at the Nobleman Hotel.

The music was standard repertoire: some ballads (played uptempo), some bossa nova, some blues: "Charade," "I Can't Get Started," "Wave," "Stella By Starlight," "Summertime," "Manha de Carnaval," "Solar." Johnny digs a strong groove, which Keith provides, playing inside the tunes (to which he knows the chord changes and lyrics) in a Jimmy Cobb/Roy Haynes bag, flashing his chops only when called on to solo or trade fours, giving the lie to his self-deprecating assertion that "No one else would hire me" with crisp and ingenious fills and terse rhythmic statements. Nathan's an able accompanist whether playing deft countermelodies or walking straight four-to-the-bar, soloing on every tune and taking the head on one at Johnny's request. His solo work is particularly strong in the bass's upper register, playing across the neck and fretting with his thumb at times. 

Throughout, Johnny fairly danced on the keys, always inventive and swinging, always faithful to the song. My mind drifted back to a hundred nights at Sardines, sitting in the warm candlelit glow while Johnny's music provided its own incandescence. If you haven't heard Johnny Case in awhile (or ever), you owe it to yourself.