Dallas, 6.6.2025

No live shots this time. I put a password on my phone and now I'm locked out. Apparently this kind of Android won't let you power it down without entering the password, so now the young person at the phone store says I need to let it run out of power, then come back with my Google password and they can make it lose its mind. Ah, these machines that are smarter than I. 

So I had a very 20th century experience driving to New Media Contemporary in Dallas' Exposition Park to take in a triptych of women working in various forms of experimental music, in the tradition of Pauline Oliveros. Got lost, but was able to improvise my way (heh) to the venue before start time. (Street team and zine distribution action has helped me familiarize myself a little better with Big D's daunting highways and byways.)

Sarah Ruth Alexander's solo music combines pure vocal tone, operatic training, multi-instrumental flexibility, goofy humor, a literary bent (Didion and McMurtry are favorites) and a feminist perspective with an aesthetic rooted in a place (the Panhandle farm where she grew up) to create something resonant and expressive. She opened with an audience vocal exercise, in which we were invited to scream (men first, then women, then the whole audience), then hum together. A way for us to bond and ground ourselves. 

After verbally riffing on Bartok and bar talk, she played a new piece, "Bird Talk," in which she imitated bird sounds on slide whistle and recorder. Another new composition, accompanied on harmonium, expressed sadness at the conversion of beloved elders in her home town to Trump supporters ("although they're not racists" -- ironic?). She apologized for "getting political," but as my friend Tammy Melody Gomez says, all art is political, including watercolors of bluebonnets and barns.

Sarah's most striking new piece was "Sweetheart of the Rodeo," inspired by hearing high school girls singing the National Anthem at the rodeo. Over a bed of roiling, dissonant electronics, Sarah sang the Anthem (using a screenshot of lyrics "because I'm not that big of a fan") in the manner of a variety of "belty" models, including (briefly) Whitney Houston, then extemporized. She played a new work in progress on New Media Contemporary's baby grand piano, drone-y and modal but with some dissonance, and finished with a nice surprise: "Dust Bowl" from her 2015 Words on the Wind cassette (a fave at mi casa and still Bandcamp-available). I enjoy her work in a lot of contexts, but always dig her solo music the most.

Hexpartner is the performing rubric for Grace Sydney Pham, a virtuoso on violin, voice, and electronics who's incorporated harp into her instrumental array the past two years. She uses samples of her voice, keyed to what she plays on her electronically enhanced instrument, to create layers of swirling, through-composed harmonic wonderment and dark beauty. Her projected video complemented her soundscapes, but I think it was paused at a certain point in her performance and never resumed.

Brooklyn-based polymath (musician, visual artist, architect) Sandy Ewen has advanced the language of prepared guitar farther than anyone else. Although best known among Texas rockaroll types for her work with the group Weird Weeds, she's led a long-lived, Houston-based, all-female large improvising ensemble, and collaborated with improv heavyweights like Damon Smith, Weasel Walter, Roscoe Mitchell, Henry Kaiser, Jaap Blonk, and Lisa Cameron. She's currently in the middle of a 23-date solo tour that also included multiple dates in Houston, Austin, and Denton. I was unable to attend her show at Rubber Gloves the previous night, so I was happy to be able to catch this one.

Sandy's now running her seasoned Ibanez semi-hollow (strung with a plain D string, the better to withstand her abrasive attack) through a Milkman stereo amp with two 15-inch speakers -- good for capturing the full sonic range of what she's doing -- and her trusty Ernie Ball pan pedal (contrary to ign'ant journos, the only electronic effect she uses). She employs an array of objects -- metal rods, plates, and the railroad spike that provided the name for her record with Roscoe Mitchell (2021's A Railroad Spike Forms the Voice), bells, a stainless steel scrubbing pad, a selection of electroluminescent wires, sidewalk chalk -- and works like a sculptor to create densely textured soundscapes. 

It's fascinating to watch her in action from up close (easily done in New Media Contemporary's intimate, live-sounding room) and hear the sounds of freight trains, shifting tectonic plates, temple bells, and radio static emerge from her highly tactile process. (She says she might do a video shot from above to allow interested listeners to see how it's done.) While Sandy has a number of good solo recordings available (my pick is the vinyl You Win from 2020), you need to be in the room to get the full depth and dimension of her sound, and experience the head-spinning sensation her stereo panning creates, in tandem with her back-projected visuals. An authentic innovator and a true original. Kudos to Sarah Ruth and New Media Contemporary impresario James Talambas for facilitating an enjoyable and edifying evening.

Denton, 5.28.2025

Joan of Bark Presents remains my favorite recurring experimental music series, and last night they had a perfect late spring night on the outdoor patio stage at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios for the latest edition of Improv Lotto, in which musicians are selected from a hat to form ensembles -- on this occasion, two quartets, a trio, and a duo -- immediately before performing. It's a fun challenge for the players, and an opportunity for punters to hear something unexpected from stalwart favorites as well as folks with whom we're less familiar.

The first set belonged to a string-heavy quartet comprising Aaron Gonzalez (Kolga, Humanization 4tet) on standup bass and vocal, Kourtney Newton (Amorsima Trio, Bitches Set Traps) on cello, Scotty Warren (Mirage Music Factory, The Last Great American Rock Band) on electric guitar, and Jonahs Downer (Atomic Rainbow, Maestro Maya) on electric bass. 

Gonzalez has been playing at a creative peak since returning from Humanization 4tet's European tour, most recently heard doing improv with vocalist extraordinaire Lily Taylor. Newton's one of my favorite musicians, whether improvising or playing scores, and she set the pace with her mastery of extended techniques on a down-tuned instrument, using a fixed mic after her cello pickup failed during soundcheck. (A clean signal will always cut through a distorted signal at equal volumes.) At times, she served as the "drummer" for the unit, striking the cello's body with her hands or the strings with her bow, and added textural variety with melodica and an eBow-like device.

Guitarist Warren follows a rigorous practice based on suspended harmony (redolent of McCoy Tyner's fourth voicings or Steely Dan's Mu major/minor chords), and he employed an arsenal of effects to add colors and textures to the mix. Bassist Downer kept his formidable chops in check to provide atmospheric washes of sound and noise samples. And at a crucial moment, the musicians were joined by the most perfectly aligned -- to steal a phrase from Taylor Collins -- freight train intrusion (a Rubber Gloves staple) of all ti-i-ime.

Next up was another quartet: Kory Reeder (whose recent release Homestead with Apartment House richly deserves your attention) on cello and electronics, Chelsey Danielle (Helium Queens, Pearl Earl) on drums and vocal, Jessica Stearns on alto sax, and Taylor Collins (Ogonosu, Solan Dorr) on electronics. It's a truism that's also true: when pulse and voice are present, people's attention follows -- musicians as well as listeners. So it made sense that Chelsey Danielle was the prime mover in this aggregation. Her extemporized Beat-like poetry takes listeners on a thematic journey, and her rock and roll traps are fueled by legit (as in symphony percussionist) chops -- every hit sounds so good. Stearns listened acutely and made complementary rhythmic interjections, while Reeder and Collins laid down droning beds of ambience.

The trio of series curator Sarah Ruth Alexander on vocal and electronics, Michael Meadows on electric guitar, and Stefanie Lazcano (No Good Babies) on bass sounded to these ears like the "metal adjacent" thing Sarah Ruth has expressed interest in (although she avers that it was more blues adjacent). Alexander digs a loud band -- my eardrums still carry the impression made by her noise duo Vexed UK (with Michael Briggs) -- and her collaborators were more than willing to meet her there, with Meadows operating within the Jimi Hendrix sound world but with a metallic edge, while Lazcano offered up sonically twisted lines and added another texture via plastic flute.

Batting cleanup was the duo of Ellie Alonzo (Sunbuzzed) on drums and Marissa Yvette Rodriguez-Picazo on vocals. It was fitting that the evening should end with the most basic elements of music -- rhythm and voice -- and that of all the performances, this one sounded the most like the musicians had played together before. They kept it simple and primal, with Alonzo laying down a minimalist beat a la Mo Tucker, with Rodriguez-Picazo extemporizing over the top in a voice drenched in echo that obscured her words but not the emotions behind them. Sparseness and simplicity can rule. 

There was an all-ages show going on in the showroom, and the patio was intermittently filled with people the age of Aaron Gonzalez's daughter, and others young enough to be my kids who were talking about how they really don't get out to shows anymore. An interesting perspective for sure. I spoke briefly with a young electronic musician who goes by the rubric Samplequence, whose 2023 album I've been listening to as I typed this. Their parents are a dancer and a musician, so perhaps it makes sense that the album hits like body music which can also be head music. Me like lots. 

The next Joan of Bark show will be on June 25, in the week of my 68th natal anniversary, an embarrassment of riches during which I will also get to jam with two different sets of cats, and take in Trio Glossia at Growl in Arlington on the 26th, KUZU's Record Revolution Convention at Denton's Patterson-Appleton Arts Center and the Monks of Saturnalia at Full City Rooster in Dallas, both on the 28th. It's a great life if you don't weaken.

Fort Worth/Denton/Oak Cliff, 5.20-21.2025

Going to try and do this fast because it's late and tomorrow will be a busy one.

After giving the Tarrant County Commissioners Court my one-minute opinion of their flagrant attempt at a racist gerrymander via unwarranted, out-of-cycle, hastily and secretively conducted redistricting, I needed a tonic and got one in the form of a four-band bill in the Rubber Room at Denton's Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios where I knew people in three of the bands.

Solan Dorr is the trio of Taylor Collins (Ogonosu) on piano and analog synth, Max Twaddle on vocals and acoustic guitar, and Dorian Marsh on electric guitar. Their performance brought to mind an orchestral performance where different sections are heard at different times, or listening to a rock album from the psychedelic era. Max does a nice line in fingerpicking his 6 and 12-strings, with the resultant output processed by Taylor a la Brian Eno to add texture and color to the organically produced sounds. Taylor then soloed on his synesthetically color-coded keyboard, before Dorian -- a protege of Dallas guitar ninja Gregg Prickett -- showcased his highly distinctive approach on a battered vintage Kay. Tuning to an open C# chord and using an arsenal of effects including ample reverb, Dorian played in a drone-based modal style with a powerful rhythmic attack. A band and individual players I'd dig to hear more.

Second band, a trio called Ten Kilowatt Test Drive, included a couple of familiar faces: drummer Quincy Holloway (Sub Oslo, Dove Hunter), Ean Parsons (Pinkston) on bass, and man for all seasons Paddy Flynn (Tame Tame and Quiet, Werewolf Victim Revival, Goiter Belt) up front on guitar. I remember seeing Paddy playing solo acoustic at the Grackle a few months back, returning to playing after a hiatus, and it's good to see him playing out in a variety of contexts. On this occasion, the sound was thunderous and shoegazy, with Paddy's voice swimming low in the electric tsunami while Quincy propelled the band the way he does (the only musician in Sub Oslo who couldn't stop playing during their dub exorcisms). Bold and bracing.

I'd heard Chris Welch sing his songs a few times since he returned to performing after recovering from a stroke, both solo and with two or three musicians. This was the first time I'd experienced the songs from his new album, Discarded Lives, Forgotten Names (due out in August) with a full band including Holly Manning on violin and backing vocals, Kelly Evans on keys, Cade Bundrick on drums, the ubiquitous Ryan Williams on upright bass, and the aforementioned Paddy Flynn on guitar. While Chris's ragged-but-right voice remains the centerpiece, having strong support, especially from Holly as a second voice and instrumental soloist, opens up the music and gives the songs added depth and dimension. Looking forward to hearing the record.

After that I had to bail before Assisted Living's closing set, as I had plans to go hike in the Fort Worth Nature Center in the morning with my buddy Dan. Which we did.

The following evening, my buddy Mike and I headed for Oak Cliff and The Wild Detectives, which played host to an intriguing triple bill. 

Opening set was by the duo of bassist-vocalist Aaron Gonzalez, playing at a peak creative level since returning from a tour of Europe with Humanization 4tet, and vocalist extraordinaire Lily Taylor, who since her ethereal 2023 album Amphora has been exploring some thornier terrain. In the past, the duo has performed jazz standards -- a challenge in such a stripped-down format, Aaron says -- but more recently, they've been focused on improvisational performance (documented on a recording we may hear soon). The contrast of Lily's impeccable control and dulcet tones with Aaron's manic glossolalia is striking, and they intertwined their voices through several dynamic shifts, with Aaron's bass serving as both a rhythmic and tonal anchor.

Houston bassist-composer Thomas Helton, a familiar of pianist Matthew Shipp (who'll perform solo in Houston's Rothko Chapel on June 20), was making a rare visit to the DFW area, and his presence brought out the likes of Fort Worth Symphony assistant principal bassist Paul Unger and Denton bass eminence Drew Phelps. Helton opened with a demonstration of his pizzicato mastery, using an expansive and highly percussive right hand technique, and is the first bassist I've ever seen fret the instrument with his chin. His arco double and triple stops created a dense thicket of sound, his rapid bowing making the sounds of abrasion and ricocheting overtones palpable. The venue's decision to move the show inside proved to be particularly auspicious for this set and the one that followed, as the wooden-floored room captured the acoustical qualities of the instruments better than the open air would have, however pleasant it might have felt.

The closing set was by Los Angeles-based percussionist Adam Lion, who took a deep dive into the sonic possibilities of the vibraphone. Adam removes the damping bar from his instrument for greater resonance, and opened with an episode where he bowed one of the bars to create a resonant drone, striking adjacent tones to create dissonance as the overtones collided. (Coincidentally, Lily and Aaron had talked earlier about playing all the permutations of a single note, which Adam then demonstrated.) His mallet work was deft, with a fine sense of control, closing with some virtuoso multi-mallet fireworks. Some of the sonic analogs his performance called to mind included Phill Niblock, gamelan, and Philip Glass -- all legit, he said later. He said he got the gig after running into The Wild Detectives music honcho Ernesto Monteil on the street at Big Ears Festival a few years ago, and took him up on an invitation to come to Texas. He's currently on tour, after which he'll spend a couple of months in North Carolina. We hope to hear him back in Dallas (and maybe Denton, too) soon.

Fort Worth, 5.18.2025

I will admit to having divided attention this month. While there are a bunch of shows that merit my attention, I have been preoccupied with the attempt by the Republican majority in Tarrant County's commissioners court to implement a racist gerrymander of precinct lines, which were already reviewed after the 2020 census -- with input from the community -- and deemed to be representative of the county's current population. The majority, led by extremist county judge Tim O'Hare, has undertaken to redraw the lines to dilute and silence the voices of communities of color, robbing Precinct 1 of resources and infrastructure, and diluting the voice of Arlington residents (Texas's most diverse city) in Precinct 2 by lumping them in with the predominantly Anglo communities of Benbrook and Crowley, far to the west. 

It was a hurried process, without community input, and my own Precinct 4 county commissioner, Manny Ramirez, couldn't be bothered to show up to meet with his constituents at a scheduled event in Azle. Public Interest Legal Foundation (PILF), the law firm that was hired to consult with the court, has ties with the group responsible for Project 2025 and has refused to present the criteria for their proposed redistricting. The PILF representative who was scheduled present at the meeting I attended at the Como Community Center stood in the back of the room throughout the meeting, refusing to come forward when invited. 

But their intent is clear. They want a Precinct 2 that will have a Republican majority in perpetuity (kind of like what the state legislature did with TX-12) and, more to the point, where Commissioner Alissa Simmons -- whom O'Hare has told in court to "sit down and be quiet" -- cannot win re-election. Tomorrow I'll be attending the commissioners court meeting to speak out against the colossal arrogance and flagrant disrespect the court majority has shown for Tarrant County residents of color.

But about last night...

EKSEPTION 2: a festival of unique musics was an eclectic melange of creative music, curated by Grackle Art Gallery music honcho Kavin Allenson (who performed in his Leaking Bright guise). The Grackle's the only place in my town that consistently books music I want to hear, and the fact that they're a short walk from mi casa and the shows are always early is the icing on the cake. I missed Kavin's opening set, but arrived as the duo Kitbashes was casting a spell of multi-layered electronic wonderment. Kavin had devised a schedule that had different acts performing in different rooms, with overlapping set times. I wasn't sure how this was going to work, as the Grackle is a small space -- basically my house with different stuff in it -- but it proved to be quite successful and effective.

As Kitbashes concluded their set, Ogonosu -- the solo rubric for musician/photographer Taylor Collins -- was getting started in the "east room." I'd witnessed an Ogonosu performance before, but had never gotten to see Taylor's keyboard close up. The keys are color coded in a way that matches his synesthetic perception of their sounds. His untutored piano technique is highly expressive, and he creates lyrical beds of tinkling texture, which he then treats and mutates using his analog synth. Next Tuesday, I plan to see Taylor perform in Denton at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios with guitarists Max Twaddle and Dorian Marsh. (I believe the rubric is Solan Dorr.) 

I got distracted from his set by the presence of a couple of friends, including DJ Phil Ford, whom I hadn't seen in a minute. After awhile, they headed off to The Cicada to catch Groove Gallery, a first-and-third Sunday evening jazz jam fronted by saxophonist Bobby Williams which I need to catch. But not before Aaron Gonzalez, recently returned from a European tour with Humanization 4tet, played a solo set of manic intensity, using standup bass, voice, and even the kitchen sink.

Aaron's sibling/Humanization 4tet bandmate Stefan Gonzalez didn't plan to perform in the kitchen, but when he realized that once assembled, his vibraphone wouldn't fit through the door, that's where it went down. Stefan has always been a performer of great physicality as well as invention, and his improvisation had some of the qualities of dance as well as great musicality. A pleasant surprise was the injection of wordless vocalisms by the Austin-based Turkish vocalist Esin Gunduz, who started with a jazzy soprano that gave way to more guttural sounds and extended vocal fry. An intriguing performer whom I'd dig to hear more of; perhaps I shall, as she and Stefan plan to collaborate more. 

The closing slot belonged to guitarist extraordinaire Gregg Prickett, who brought the heat on classical and electric guitars, using a similar setup to his recent duo outing at Dallas's Full City Rooster with duo partner Jonathan F. Horne. His signal chain included delay, an octave pedal to accentuate the low end of the frequency spectrum, and a Korg Miku Stomp aka "the Japanese syllable pedal." Prickett's always adventurous and inventive, and Linda Little's swirling visuals added atmosphere to the proceedings.

Kavin and Linda are getting ready to shut the Grackle down for the summer, but not before hosting a fundraiser in the form of a Bob Dylan-themed open mic, Throw the Bums a Dime, starting at 4pm on Saturday May 31st. I would be remiss if I neglected to mention that I have volunteered to serve as the sacrificial opener, making my debut as a solo acoustic-strumming song schlepper (not Bob per se, but in his spirit), at this event. Don't you dare miss it.

Denton, 5.4.2025

Hot on the heels of Wednesday's Joan of Bark Presents, and yesterday's embarrassment of riches at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth and Full City Rooster in Dallas, tonight's concert brought four more inspiring and inspired performers to the Rubber Room at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios -- a couple of them familiar, a couple of them new to your humble chronicler o' events.

Co-curator Sarah Ruth Alexander has had a busy month, performing a three-hour segment of Kory Reeder's 24-hour piece Vespers at New Media Contemporary in Dallas' Fair Park, then traveling up to Boston to perform with Austin based dance maker Rosemary Candelario at the Boston Butoh/Performance Art Festival. It was clear that the performance art she'd witnessed (and the unplanned solo set she performed, sans instruments) were very much on Alexander's mind as she began her set, summoning the audience with loud bird calls and musing about how perhaps she needed to be braver in her solo performances. 

She left the Rubber Room to start a song in the restroom, returning to sing snippets from Willie Nelson's "Crazy" ("Sometimes I dream I'm auditioning for a country band") and Billy Strayhorn's "Lush Life" (the lengthy intro before the melodic hook I recognize) while moving through the audience and making physical contact with listeners. Then she went into an electronically-augmented acapella improvisation that used the full dynamic range of her voice, from whispers to ear-piercing shrieks, building waves upon waves of sound that engulfed us, then subsided to a final denouement. A new expressive peak for a veteran performer. 

Alexander's collaborators from Sounds Modern and Bitches Set Traps, Elizabeth McNutt and Kourtney Newton, were in the house, and I was pleased to hear that there will be another Sounds Modern performance at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth in September. They'll also be performing some of the repertoire from this week's museum concert at Grayson College in Denison, and another venue closer to home. Catch 'em if you can; you owe it to yourself.

The next two sets focused on electric guitars as input sources for sonic architecture. Austin based Roaring Mass used what was essentially a rock rig to sculpt monolithic slabs of sound that had a curiously soothing, meditative effect. Another Austinite, Tazer Void had an intriguing setup: a household step stool used as an electronics rack, creating multiple tiers of noise over which they improvised on what photog/musician Taylor Collins identified as an Ibanez "lawsuit" Les Paul copy. During the set, some piece of equipment began to oscillate wildly, and it appeared as though the musician (who later introduced himself as Travis) struggled to get the machine under control. Part of what makes improvised performance compelling to watch is the possibility of failure, and seeing how people recover in those situations -- a lot like live theater, where the tension of that possibility is always present. This requires courage as well as preparation. A good metaphor for our times, perhaps.

The closing set was by Ruptured Implant, the rubric for Denton improv stalwarts Kristina Smith and Rachel Weaver. They wove a web of dark sonic mystery, the duration of samples giving the music a deep underlying pulse, with Smith declaiming stridently, her words blurred by electronic effects, occasionally striking the strings of a bass guitar to add a harmonic underpinning. An elegant improvisation that brought the evening to a satisfying conclusion. 

In the bar area, Alexander was selling homemade artifacts and potted plants to support the upcoming December Joan of Bark festival, an announcement of which will be made soon. 

Fort Worth/Dallas, 5.3.2025

A big day of music, starting off with Sounds Modern at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth in the afternoon, culminating with Duo Memento Mori, the rubric for the collaboration of guitarists Gregg Prickett and Jonathan F. Horne, at Full City Rooster in Dallas.

Sounds Modern's The Ear of the Whale: Music to Celebrate Alex Da Corte's The Whale, was a program of intriguing works by mostly-living composers, intended to replicate the multiplicity of emotions evoked by the multimedia artist Da Corte's paintings -- replete with pop culture referents -- in a medium the artist called "the mouth of the whale," a portal to absorption.

Alex Hills' Alles contrasts the musical themes from San Francisco punk rockers the Dead Kennedys' "California Uber Alles" with transgressive chanteuse Nico's version of "Deutschland Uber Alles." Performed by a quartet that included pianist Stephen Lucas, violinist Kathleen Crabtree, cellist Kourtney Newton, and percussionist Patrick Overturf (on a small trap set), the melodic center shifted between the piano and the strings, with Lucas damping the piano's strings at times. I was reminded at times of the sheer idiot glee of my bandmates when the DK's song came on the house music at the old Black Dog Tavern (RIP) when we were loading out the first time we played there, and the darker undertones of the current regime's authoritarianism (one manifestation of which was the attempt by Fort Worth police -- rejected by a grand jury -- to declare a recent Modern exhibition of Sally Mann's photos obscene).

Violinist Mia Detwiler has previously displayed an adeptness at performing with electronics, using a looper as part of Jessica Meyer's Getting Home during Sounds Moderwan's concert in conjunction with the aforementioned Sally Mann exhibit. On Melissa Dunphy's Theme and Variables: Scallops and Bollocks for Tea, Detwiler dueted with an electronic rendition of the Colonel Bogey March inspired (and partially sampled from) the one played by CSIRAC, the first computer in the world to be programmed to play music. While listening to the virtuosic variations, I was reminded of singing the obscene schoolboy version of the song (with allusions to Hitler, Goering, Himmler, and Goebbels) with my mates back in the schoolyard, and of the senescent HAL 9000 singing "Daisy" while Dave Bowman deprograms him in 2001: A Space Odyssey. (Note to self: Write new lyrics for Mingus' "Fables of Faubus" with allusions to Trump, Vance, Musk, Miller, et al.)

Matthew Shlomowitz's Popular Contexts, Volume 10: Beethoven's Fourth Symphony in context teamed Detwiler with three musicians I'm accustomed to hearing in improvising contexts: Lucas (on keyboard and pre-recorded sounds), Newton, and Sounds Modern director/flutist Elizabeth McNutt. Besides the composer's gambit of overlaying found sounds (sirens, waves, ducks, crowds singing) with live instruments, it was novel to hear the seasoned experimentalists performing in a classical/Romantic context. I also enjoyed the juxtaposition of Lucas' electronic keyboard bass figures with the acoustic instruments. 

After a brief intermission, Mauricio Kagel's Pan featured McNutt on piccolo and a string quartet of Crabtree, Detwiler, Newton, and violist Daphne Gerling. The piece is based on the signature ascending scale the birdcatcher Papageno plays on the panpipes in Mozart's opera The Magic Flute. Kagel, a refugee from Peron's Argentina, was a surrealist swimming against the serialist tide of his time; historical validation wears the white Stetson. The strings built and released tension as McNutt performed variations on Mozart's theme.

I will not pretend to understand the numerology and philosophy of the Lo Shu Magic Square that provided part of the inspiration for Zack Browning's Moon Thrust. The quartet of McNutt (on flute), Detwiler, Newton, and Overturf (on bongos, congas, and triangle) played syncopated polyrhythms that included a vamp which recalled the Sherman brothers' theme from the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and textures reminiscent of the Mission: Impossible TV show theme. I left with a head full of allusions and images, and the strong conviction that more people need to know about Sounds Modern. But don't believe me. Watch the video from the live stream, and realize that live music is always better when you're in the room.

Gregg Prickett and Jonathan F. Horne have been conducting a mutual admiration society for 15 years now. I've enjoyed Gregg's work with They Say the Wind Made Them Crazy, Unconscious Collective, the Monks of Saturnalia (my favorite band that doesn't play nearly as often as I'd like), Sawtooth Dolls, and Habu Habu in its multiplicity of forms. I first saw Horne with The Young Mothers (whose recently released third album is worth checking out) and recently heard him in THC Trio with saxophonist Joshua Thomson and drummer Lisa Cameron (album release imminent). His work on Breezy by Ingebrigt Haker Flaten's (Exit) Knarr is some of the best I've heard in the last year. 

On this occasion, the two brought a full arsenal of instruments and effects. Prickett started out on classical guitar then switched between his signature custom electric with attached echo pedal and a reissue Fender Jaguar. While he usually employs only two or three effects (usually including a volume pedal), this evening's signal chain comprised half a dozen stompboxes (no pedalboard, man after my own heart) including a Korg Miku Stomp, based on Hakune Mitsu singing software (I called it the "Japanese syllable pedal), to Horne's great amusement. 

Horne had his signature Mosrite Ventures model along with a short-scale Fender Mustang and Fender Jaguar baritone. He'd just purchased a white mystery box with a 50-page manual that provided glitchy sounds as well as other sonic wonderment. His pedalboard included two Electro Harmonix Freeze Sound Retainers, an electronic signature of his sound. Horne has undergone nine surgeries to repair a severed tendon in his fretting hand. He's still unable to voluntarily flex his third finger, which means most of the time he's playing with just two fingers -- imagine Django Reinhardt inhabiting Nels Cline's sound world. With inspiring pragmatism, Horne avers that the injury and subsequent series of surgeries and recoveries enabled him to find his own voice, rather than "just being someone who wanted to sound like Nels Cline." An exemplary player in more ways than one. 

Together, the two musicians are remarkable in their ability to achieve great dynamic variation at low volume, and inhabit the same sonic space without ever replicating each other. Prickett's rigorous technique and endless supply of melodic and harmonic ideas blends with and compliments Horne's nervous energy and explosive flights of invention. At one point Prickett took up a Native American flute for a minimalist interval, at another the two battled in midrange frequencies on dueling Jaguars. At their zenith, they achieve a kind of music of the spheres, as spiritually cleansing as it is emotionally cathartic. 

The small audience of cognoscenti was packed with musicians, including Prickett's occasional duet partner, guitarist Paul Quigg; bassist Mike Daane (playing with Andy Timmons at the Dallas Guitar Show this weekend); and Prickett's Trio du Sang bandmates, percussionist Bobby Fajardo and violinist extraordinaire/Sounds Modern  assistant director Andrew May. May, a one-time punk rock guitarist from Chicago's Hyde Park, made some trenchant observations on your humble chronicer o' events' listening behavior. A case of the hunter getting captured by the game? And yet another reason why Full City Rooster is one of my favorite listening rooms. 

Prickett will be in Fort Worth on May 18th for the Grackle Art Gallery's Ekseption 2: a festival of unique musics, on a bill that also features Leaking Bright, Kitbashes, Ogonosu, Aaron Gonzalez, and Stefan Gonzalez. Don't you dare miss it. 

Denton, 4.30.2025

Joan of Bark Presents brought three different and unique performances to the Rubber Room at Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios. First set by Art Jam featured a small ensemble (trumpet, electric violin, drums) led by drummer Joseph that extemporized in a spacious, ECM-ish manner while his partner April painted live onstage. While the opening disclaimer denied any thematic intent, perhaps I was imposing my own thoughts on the piece, which seemed to me to start out with a world in flames, filled with floating spirits, engulfed by storms and cataclysms. (It's been an interesting week.)

Two stalwarts of the Denton improv scene collaborated for the second set. Paul Slavens recently played a Dallas reunion show with his '80s outfit Ten Hands, while last week I heard Sarah Jay front the evocatively named metal-with-electronics outfit Cacodemon in the very same space where we now sat. The room was darkened, with only ambient light from outside and the indicators from their electronic equipment for illumination. Sound tech extraordinaire Aubrey Seaton facilitated Jay's head-spinning stereo panning as the duo spun a dark web of psychedelic mystery, in a conversation where the musicians themselves were often unaware of who was producing what sound. Jay's haunting vocalisms included snippets like "Bring power to its knees" and "You can have a baby in a tank with a dolphin," which caused me to mentally title the piece "Dolphin Doula." Jay performs at Dallas Ambient Music Nights this weekend.

Closing set was one of the last area performances of Starfruit, an ensemble fronted by Julia Ava W. Boehme, who will soon be leaving the Metromess and whom I'd only previously seen in an improv lottery situation. Boehme plays acoustic guitar in an English folk-derived style using metal fingerpicks, and sings with great power and high range. I couldn't quite put my finger on which '70s English prog band Starfruit reminded me of -- Aubrey mentioned Gentle Giant, but that wasn't quite it; maybe Van Der Graaf Generator (albeit with a very different songwriting approach and vocal range)? The band -- electric guitar, keys, bass, drums, and visiting saxophonist Garrett Wingfield) played arrangements of daunting rhythmic complexity (at one point, Julia challenged the audience to find the one in a drum intro; only the drummer from Art Jam could do it) with tremendous energy, and Boehme is a riveting and cathartic performer. Glad I got to see 'em before they go.

Next Joan of Bark Presents will be Sunday, May 4, featuring co-curator Sarah Ruth and a trio of acts new to me: Tazer Void, Ruptured Implant, and Roaring Mass. See you there.