In This Issue:
YO MILES! and the New Art Jazz Quartet
All Hallows Eve Bash With Ashbury Park and Earth Force
Waiting For The Sun
Widespread Panic at the Warfield
Ashbury Park, The Big Wu, and Deep Banana Blackout

YO MILES! and the New Art Jazz Quartet
October 21, 1999 - Fillmore Auditorium, San Francisco, CA

by Charlie Dirksen

As part of the San Francisco Jazz Festival, Bay Area improvisational music fans were treated to a spectacular evening of music at the Fillmore Auditorium. Almost certainly because of an unfortunate scheduling conflict -- Chick Corea and Gonzalo Rubalcaba were performing across town as part of the Festival at the Masonic Auditorium -- the Fillmore was not sold-out.

The New Art Jazz Quartet -- featuring Reggie Workman (string bass), John Hicks (piano), Rashied Ali (drums), and James Blood Ulmer (guitar and vocals) -- performed in the first set for approximately one hour. Hicks, Ali and Workman offered an intricate, strong foundation for Ulmer's pointed and passionate guitar flourishes. From watching them play, one got the impression of four brilliant LISTENERS at once performing, inventing, self-reflecting and wondering.

As their name states, there is no mistake that there is "New Art" in this quartet's music. Most if not all of what they played seemed improvised -- anything compositional had an artful boldness and originality. Though Ulmer's occasional vocals and lyrics (entirely improvised, perhaps) seemed to complement the music in a soulful, spiritually-gifted sense, at times they also seemed to mock this same sensibility. "They'd make an excellent trio," a friend remarked, clearly unmoved by Ulmer's vocals, and impressed by the work of Ali, Workman and Hicks, who have performed with Coltrane, Blakey and Rollins, among other greats. But it seemed to me that, despite his vocal tone and odd lyrics (which may take getting used to), Ulmer's vocals and guitar strokes mystically leavened what was fundamentally an exceptionally talented trio, thereby making for a magnificent quartet and a delightful hour of music.

After a half-hour intermission or so, the 12-man YO MILES! band took the stage. Cool, confident professionals. Veterans. All of them. If the musicians were as anxious as the crowd, I didn't sense it. Why "anxious"? Think about it: A Miles Davis cover band? You have got to be kidding! What arrogance! My expectations were high, because I had heard the YO MILES! double CD (information below), and knew that this concert had the potential to be one of the greatest musical events of my life. I was already a huge fan of Miles Davis, particularly his early 1970's works, and so hearing even competent musicians explore many of his musical themes (or compositional ideas/notions/phrases/fragments -- whatever you want to call them) thrilled me.

Often if I go into something with high expectations, they are at best simply met, and I have a great time. At worst, of course, I end up cussing a lot, and swear that I'll never see [insert name of band here] again. The worst happened, for example, when I saw the David Murray Octet at the Fillmore two and half years ago -- with special guests Bob Weir and Phil Lesh. I had heard Murray play some beautiful music, and I was a big fan of the Dead, so my hopes were high; but I wasn't prepared for what transpired that night. The "improvisation" on that evening was mostly just plain old noise to my ears. They weren't listening or interacting successfully with each other. Mileage varies, of course. The Grateful Dead tunes that the David Murray Octet covered that night (I will never forget the Shakedown, in particular) are, to this day, the worst versions I have ever heard in my life by any band. They were arguably offensive (and, frankly, Phil Lesh looked very bit as unamused as I did, too).

Why the tangent? I didn't want you to think that I'm a big fan of horns. I tend to prefer horns as I prefer kids -- preferably only one or two at a time (or at most in very small groups), and very well-disciplined. And, frankly, many improvisational music fanatics tend to like their brass and reeds in small doses. Horn tones can conflict with, instead of complement, The Rock Star Guitarist, the ringing cymbals, or the pianist's or keyboardist's more delicate maneuvers. It is very rare, at improvisational rock concerts in particular, that horn and guitar blend (and -- indoors -- I have never heard sax and guitar blend as magnificently as Martin Fierro's sax and any of Steve Kimock's guitars do at a ZERO show!).

YO MILES! featured a lot of horns (5) and a lot of guitars (3), all of which blended exceptionally well. And, true to Miles Davis early 1970's form, this Fillmore concert was as much an improvisational JAZZ gig as it was an improvisational ROCK gig. A fusion of jazz, rock, funk, reggae and -- thanks to Zakir Hussain's contributions on tabla -- Indian classical elements the likes of which I have never before seen on a stage, it was a memorable evening of improvisational music of an inestimable majesty (at least for a Miles Davis fan!). The sound created by this 12-piece band was so phenomenally intense that, like the music Miles created in the early to mid 1970's, it was worthy of a new name. Call it "fusion" if you must, but no name could ever convincingly grasp the power of this music, which was true to the spirit of Miles and which I have no doubt Miles would have dug.

The brass: Wadada Leo Smith center stage on trumpet, along and the Rova Sax Quartet: Bruce Ackley, Steve Adams, Jon Raskin, and Larry Ochs. (soprano, alto, and tenor saxes only, though; I don't recall anyone playing a baritone sax, but I was not taking notes).

The guitars: Henry Kaiser, Nels Cline, and Chris Muir (seated).

Keyboards: Tom Coster

Foundation/Rhythm: Michael Manring, bass; Zakir Hussain, tablas (and another Indian percussive instrument the name of which escapes me); and Alex Cline, drums.

Each musician added his own special ingredient to the mix at one time or another, and each seemed to move the others in different directions with a commanding, confident presence. Henry Kaiser and Wadada Leo Smith were interviewed by Derk Richardson of San Francisco's Bay Guardian newspaper in the weeks before the show, and the article was published in the Oct. 20-26 edition. In that excellent piece, Henry commented: "We don't rehearse these songs and go in there knowing what's going to happen. We'll be going into the Fillmore like a team that suits up in parachutes and does a night jump, not knowing if we're landing in the ocean or the forest or the mountains. It's a team going in, but we don't know where we're going or what we're going to find."

Indeed, as expected in a large jazz ensemble, the only physical evidence of preparation consisted of various horn charts that the sax players used -- but then only to complement the fundamentally improvisational course of the music with thematically inspired, stabilizing arrangements. Compositional fragments which at once centered the music but still left space for the communicative voices of ALL of the instruments.

There were also very pleasant "interludes" of sorts, where at least some of the musicians -- and the audience -- could both rest and reflect. For example, Michael Manring's awe-inspiring bass playing shared the stage with only Zakir Hussain's enthralling tabla-work at one point, the two master musicians brilliantly jamming off eachother's efforts. And at another time, Wadada Leo Smith's smooth and enchanting trumpet lit the Fillmore warmly, accompanied only by Zakir's stunningly mellifluous efforts on the tablas.

Speaking of warm lighting, adding to the charm of the evening was a mesmerizing light and slide show (the backdrop of the stage was two giant screens, side by side, upon which all kinds of picturesque scenes and psychedelic paintings were shown). You would never have guessed that the technology behind the lights was all late 1960's and early 1970's. I've probably seen 50 shows at the Fillmore Auditorium, and I couldn't recall ever seeing a light show in it like this before. Though this was the Fillmore *Auditorium*, the mystical atmosphere certainly conjured up the experience of the legendary Fillmore West show that Miles performed nearly 30 years ago.

Highlights of the YO MILES! show are just too numerous to detail (they would have to include every solo taken by every musician, among many other things). Besides, this was -- despite the soloing -- clearly a TEAM effort, with everyone adding key elements to the whole sound, be the theme "Black Satin" or a raging, enormous "Ife." This was also a heavily improvisational evening, after all, so what good would saying the "Right On" was "stupendous" really communicate? This was music to be heard and experienced. Moreover, the highlight of the night was definitely the team spirit of the musicians. Kaiser's occasional "conducting" over the course of the evening was sometimes hesitant, nonchalant, almost as if to say "Whatever. Just do whatever. You know where to go."

Koster and his keyboards were hidden from the view of the folks on the floor, since they were behind the sax quartet on audience right. The opening "Yesternow" could not have been more magical, with Koster's dazzling tones pervading the Fillmore from its first few notes with a vibe I have only rarely experienced live. Make no mistake about it, YO MILES! deserves the exclamation point.

On the guitar side of the stage (stage right), and for the entire evening, the three guitarists -- Kaiser, Muir and Cline -- were a fantastic, cooperative unit. Their playing (which included occasional RAY GUN effects from Cline) never drowned out or even burdened the other musicians. All of them played together only rarely, perhaps recognizing the danger that three guitars (particularly when combined with at least a few pieces of brass) posed to the totality of the groove.

The saxes were equally complementary to the overall sound. They stirred the music to new heights and depths collectively without any hint of the autonomous soloist aesthetic. (See Footnote 1) Wadada Leo Smith's trumpet? Glorious. It floated overtop the jams with a sincere virtuosity -- and when it wasn't floating it was piercing, driving and goading the music to new places and spaces, but all without even a hint of hubris.

Michael Manring could not have been more PERFECT as the foundation-of-it-all. Alex Cline might look more like a mild-mannered attorney (with a precise style to match) than a drummer, but his drumming was superb, right on! And nothing more need be said about Zakir Hussain, except, perhaps, that his percussive contributions, though spectacular and memorable, were just that -- contributions to what was otherwise nevertheless an incredible evening of improvisational music. Even though there might as well have been an entire LEGION of tabla-playing troubadours on the stage, given the sounds that Zakir generated from his humble instruments, he was still a part of the team.

The most apt description of what went down at the Fillmore on October 21 came from Henry Kaiser well before the concert, as transcribed in the Guardian article: "Miles found this new door that nobody had been through. Every night he'd go through this door and find different things. And no one's really been going through that door ever since. We're not going up there saying 'Oh, we're going to redo this pretty music that Miles used to do,' we're going up there saying, 'Hey, we noticed Miles did something back then that's different than a lot of people know or understand,' so we're gonna get up there and go through that door and we're going to find something, we don't know what."

Thank you Mr. Smith, thank you Mr. Kaiser, and thank you YO MILES! for having the courage to go through that door, for taking me through it with you, and for an unforgettable evening of exploratory music!

THE BAND: Wadada Leo Smith (trumpet) Henry Kaiser (guitar) Michael Manring (bass) Chris Muir (guitar) Nels Cline (guitar) ROVA SAX QUARTET (reeds): Bruce Ackley Steve Adams Jon Raskin Larry Ochs Tom Coster (keyboard) Alex Cline (drums)

Special Guest: Zakir Hussain (tablas)

THE SETLIST:
Yesternow Parts 1 & 2 >
Right Off >
Agharta Prelude
Black Satin
Great Ancestor Part 1 >
Calypso Frelimo >
Ife >
Great Expectations >
IFE
Right Off Parts 4 & 5
Hollywuud / Big Fun

Footnote 1: "Collective Improvisation in the First Bill Evans Trio, 1959-1961," Morin, Rebecca Anne, April 1999, unpublished.

Post Scriptum: If you are a Miles Davis fan, I would highly recommend that you hear the double CD that YO MILES! has made, which features many of the same musicians mentioned above. You should be able to find it easily online or at your local record store. Finally, Special thanks to Syd Schwartz for turning me on to YO MILES!.

All Hallows Eve Bash With Ashbury Park and Earth Force
October 30, 1999 - Somewhere West of Portland

by Mark LePere

Two of my favorite bands in the Northwest let out all the stops in an evening of gracious jams, good vibes, and electrically charge people.

First let me describe the scene. I first heard about the show through a flyer distributed to me at a bar in SE Portland. I'm familiar with both bands, and try to get to all of there shows, as I've never been dissapointed. But this show was out there in the hills, and i was unsure about finding it. Driving up the gravel Pumpkin Ridge Road on All Hallows's Eve in the pitch black dark of the coastal range, I got goosebumps in anticipation of the craziness that awaited me. I came upon a familiar giant green Gumby, a noticeable "fester" sign pointing us down what appeared to be an old logging road.

At the end of the road was a heated barn, with many tarps strung up around the outside to shield the overflowing crowd from the expected rain. With approximately 250 people there, it was intimate and mellow, while at the same time very festive. Everyone was in costume adding to the fun.

On to the music. I ended up getting there late, and missing most of the Earth Force set. What I did catch was awesome. They were playing inspired reggae mixed with the funky grooves that we all know and love. When Earth Force plays, there music just oozes with kindness. They aren't your typical reggae carribean groove band either. These guys play from the heart, and it comes through in there tunes. Earth force was tight as ever, understandably after being told they had taken a month off to practice and develop some new tunes.

On to Ashbury Park (AP). These guys are my favorite band, flat out. Sure I love to see Phish, SCI, KVHW, and many more. But I get to see AP more often, and appreciate there more intimate and soulful shows. With the more well known bands, it seems to be more of a production just to get into the show and actually hear some music. I like intimate venues period. And AP can really warm your soul in a hurry. After a somewhat weirded out break, AP took the stage and everyones minds had something to focus on. They played for 3 straight hours, until the wee hours of the morning, glazing our minds with powerful lyrics, mesmerizing guitar licks, pyschedilic breakdowns, funky jams, and even a little folk country rock. The whole crowd was peaking during there whole set, as AP threw down this love monster of music. Like I said, it was an intimate scene, full of kind folk, good vibes, and electrically charged people. My best halloween ever by far.

Bottom line, check these guys out!! Ashbury Park and Earth Force will not disappoint.

Waiting For The Sun

by Martin Acaster

Every year, around Halloween, Portland slips into the moist gloom that the locals call winter. Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) starts to become pandemic. Business at area tanning booths picks up. Acres of mushroom caps burst from the forest floors. As a group, the inhabitants of the temperate rain forest on the west side of the high Cascades begins waiting for the sun. Luckily for me, I enjoy the rain. I actually welcome what passes for winter here (To be sure Syracuse, NY has winter... Portland does not!). I don't mind the clouds because there are always so many different types in the sky at once. Layers upon layers of cumulus and cirrus and stratus in so many different shades of gray. Inverted landscapes of cottony mountains and undulating valleys of silver and black mirror the lush green hills and gorges that surround the city. Furthermore, the few days that the clouds do break and the mountains re-appear from the mist are SO NICE that they alone are worth the rains of biblical proportions.

While Noah had his ark, Portland has its Spirit. The Portland Spirit is a tourist type sightseeing vessel which usually cruises up and down the Willamette River throughout the year. On October 30th, the SUPERKIND folks of Sensory Overload (please check out their web site at www.sensorycircuit.com) commandeered the vessel for a Spirit Of All Hallows Eve party featuring the bands Floater, Quill, and Id. I love boats, I love being out on the water, I love good music, I got so much more.

I arrived at the fountain in Tom McCall waterfront park about 15 minutes before the scheduled boarding time to find a growing crowd of costumed revelers. Members of the bands KISS and Nelson were both waiting patiently to board the Spirit while exchanging light-hearted banter on the stark contrast between their respective musical styles. There were vampires, brides of Frankenstein, pirates, witches, and monsters galore. The most interesting costume was probably the Horny Smurf who had a rather large blue....well you get the idea. After lining up into a boys line and a girls line at the request of boat security we were allowed onto the Spirit a few minutes late. Security was pretty lax, I say this only because I was able to walk on board the ship with a completely REAL Nepalese Ghurka Kukri (which has a 12-inch long blade) strapped to my belt. I can't imagine what they were looking for if not a weapon with which it is possible to easily remove somebody's head. My only guess is that the Jedi mind tricks I was using to cloak the contraband I carried were also making the Kukri appear to be completely harmless. Once past security I careened down the gang plank into the lower deck of the boat. To my left was a complete buffet table (I believe it was all you could fit on your plate for $5.00) and to my right was a fully stocked bar. Occupying the center of the boat was a small stage which was at the time full of Id (Freud's home to the libido and the satisfaction of sexual pleasure principles). I have to be honest and admit that I retained absolutely no impression of Id beyond the fact that they were playing what appeared to be standard alternarock. Id was therefore in all likelihood not bad but I can't say for sure. They certainly did nothing for my sexual pleasure principle or libido (unlike Quill who would close out the night on the lower deck stage!). I made my way to the bar and moved upstairs to the main stage area to await the headliner Floater.

Floater ("The Northwest's heaviest most bruising band in the indie music scene"--www.floater.net) is a three piece band based in Portland who's self described sound is Pink Floyd meets Pantera. This description is appropriate as they alternated between pulsating, moody, dark, introspective, swirling spaciness and full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes, moody, dark, introspective metal. Most if not all of the people on the boat were there for Floater. They are quite possibly the most likely undiscovered band in Portland to make it on the national mainstream music scene. I do however debate "the heaviest most bruising band in the indie music scene" claim, simply because the Fireballs of Freedom exist. Nonetheless, Floater was very capable of whipping their faithful fans into a frenzy. The Portland Spirit was rocking as if it were caught in a force nine gale in the middle of the English Channel. The high point of the Floater set for me was a surprisingly FABULOUS and blisteringly jammed out cover of the Doors' Waiting For The Sun. Floater tore apart the classic (and timely) tune from Morrison Hotel, making it their own and beckoning the storm that would rage over Portland for the rest of the evening.

Floater wrapped up their approximately two and a half hour (two set) show right about the time the Portland Spirit pulled up to the dock at Waterfront Park. I made my way back down to the lower deck to find a much weirder scene than the standard hard-rock fanboy crowd upstairs. Quill, which consisted of a female guitarist/banshee and two or three guys playing bass, hand drums, and/or didgeridoos was now occupying the second stage. They were producing some eerie otherworldly shrieks and baccanalian rythms in keeping with the feast of the dead. The tones and energy they were evoking combined with my lowered pH to just plain freak me out. The guitarist writhed and screamed in the apparent throes of pagan ecstasy as a small crowd consisting only of me and her sisters of the coven looked on. As they finished up their set one of the daughters of the goddess to my left demanded that she "Show us your tits!!" To my shock and amusement she did indeed do just that.

With that vision burned into my retinas I scampered up the gang plank, up and out of the boat, and beat a hasty retreat for the other side of the river certain that I was being pursued by demon hounds from hell. Upon arriving home I was surprised to find the gates to the Lone Fir cemetary across the street from my place were all locked. The gates were never locked. Hmmmm, was this designed to keep ME out or the spirits in? I decided to investigate. What I found inside the Lone Fir is another story entirely. Suffice to say:

"This is the strangest life I've ever known."

Once again, please check out the Sensory Overload web site. The doorman and friends put together parties like this throughout the year. I intend to go to as many of them as I can, you should too!

Widespread Panic at the Warfield

by Dieter Rogers

"Hello, my name is Dieter Rogers, and I've been a panic-addict for five years now. From the ass-kickin' Halloween shows in the Big Easy, to the good feelings of Jazz Fest, to the surreal magic found in a warm Colorado evening at Red Rocks, to the electrifying energy that glows in the Windy City after a show at the Aragon, nothing moves my soul with such empowering vibes as a multiple night run at the Warfield. If you charge me for being biased to the Warfield as it is in my hometown, I'd have to plead guilty. However, because Widespread is magic, and magic happens at the Warfield, Widespread at the Warfield is magic happenin.

Every once in awhile, I find myself describing a show as epic. With even less frequency, maybe once a year, I'll describe a show as being the best of that year. And with still less frequency, this time once about every two years, I'll be so inspired as to label a show: maybe the best I've ever seen. Out of respect for all the great music I've seen (which falls somewhere between not enough and way too much), I probably have never actually chosen a "best" concert; instead I cover my ass with the word "probably" (for example: that was PROBABLY the best show I've ever seen). However, I have never proclaimed a sentence like the one below with such certainty as I do right now:

"Widespread Panic at the Warfield on October the fifteenth was probably the best concert I've ever seen."

I won't try to justify the above proclamation, by painting a vivid image of the Warfield's charm in your imagination. Furthermore, I won't try to impress you with setlists or encore. Opening the first set with Surprise Valley, and closing it out with the Low Spark of High Heeled Boys>Big Woolly Mammoth>Low Spark of High Heeled Boys medley wouldn't prove my point. And trying to give justice to recounting Cecil "Peanut" Daniels' guest appearance on percussion on drums followed by saxophone on the super rare cover Use Me, just seems Impossible (which by the way served as a nice segue way from the above two songs into set closer, and scorcher Ret Hot Mama. Finally, trying to recount in mere words the Coconut encore, just seems unreachable.

So instead, I'll give you one honest paragraph which will try to share with you how I feel after communing with a band and audience at a show like that one. In short, many of us go to more shows than we can count or remember. Many shows are great, some are good times, and others are forgettable. But on certain nights, we are treated to, and help create for that matter, nights which are unforgettable and empowering. I know for a fact that after the show I saw that night, I'll be charged with enough incredible energy to fuel my soul for months to come. You can be sure that for a very long time, a smile won't ever be too far from my face. Sometimes, the energy that can be created by a band and an audience is more important than the music. Those shows where everyone in the band can't stop jammin', and everyone in the venue can't stop boogyin', they are the ones I live to savor. I got one that night. And, that's why I can say (with total confidence for the time being) that:

"Widespread Panic at the Warfield on October 15th, was the best damn show I've ever seen"

Ashbury Park, The Big Wu, and Deep Banana Blackout
October 1999 - Mt. Tabor Pub, Portland, OR

by Gordon Wilson

The muse has come once again and I must write of her inspiration! So many adventures and spectacles experienced this past month I feel the urge to reflect. Many deep valleys and glorious peaks discovered, I'm not a heroin user but sometimes I feel like the late William S. Burroughs and just stay in bed for days at a time. It's like a terrible lethargy takes over my being, it seems my body is trying to shut down and hibernate a bit. Usually at these times of hibernation I am visited by freakish visions, nightmares, and surges of guilt and paranoia, but I also see and feel beatific and tear filled visions. Enough bull**** mental analysis, all I am saying is that I have emerged from non being and want to dust the cobwebs off my mind and pen and write of what i've seen this past month.

"The Big Wu" and "Ashbury Park" @ the Mt. Tabor Pub, Hawthorne Blvd., SE Portland. "Ashbury Park" is a popular Portland jamband that I had been hearing all sorts of news about yet had never seen. This evening their keyboard player was sitting in on the bass, their bass player recently departed from the band. "Ashbury Park" consists of Big E, a huge, soulful musician with a mass of natty dreads. A long blonde haired guitar player, with a good ear and delicate touch, a longhaired handsome drummer with good rhythm, and a focused bass player who really plays the keyboards. "Ashbury park" are very talented, with good lyrics and harmonies, I hope they find a good bass player soon, and i hope to see more of them in the future.

I have been wanting to see "The Big Wu" ever since that feature article in Jambands.com July '99-"New Groove of the Month: The Big Wu", by Robert Hubanks. "The Big Wu" is smoking! I would see these guys every time that they played if I could. Their musical compositions have a great depth and many levels to them. They seem to use the dramatic pause or stop from out of nowhere, only to emerge again in perfect full force timing and harmony (A real demonstration of the big Wu. In Chinese philosophy Wu is the character for non being, or the tao, which is believed as the source of all real creative actions.). "The Big Wu" rocked my soul! Guitar player Jason Fladager reminds me of Jon Gutwillig of "Disco Biscuits" in how he holds his guitar, and in how they both seem possessed with fierce concentration while playing. "The Big Wu's" bass player, Andy Miller, is very tight yet so mellow and reserved on-stage, it's like seeing the Buddha with a hemp hat and bass in his hands. A unique characteristic of "The Big Wu" is that their drummer also sings. At first this is a bit shocking, for you can't see who is singing, but once you figure out that it's the drummer a feeling of discovery arises, man these guys rocked the Mt. Tabor!

Another wonderful and enlightening musical experience occurred a few weeks later when "Deep Banana Blackout" rolled into town for a show. I didn't think that things could get much better than "The Big Wu" show, but the "Deep Banana Blackout" show came close.

"Deep Banana Blackout" consists of Jennifer Durkin, a beautiful and talented singer, Fuzzy, a virtuoso guitar player. Cyrus Madan on keys, who rides smoothly to the highest highs and lowest lows. "Deep Banana Blackout" also has a rapper, and a stellar trombone player, a drummer, a percussionist, a saxophone player, and a popping bass player. A friend of mine who was blown away by the show stated that, ""Deep Banana Blackout" reminds me of Jannis Joplin meets the Funky Meters, meets parliament, meets the Dazz band. Again, i'd like to see "Deep Banana Blackout" every time they played, but they are from Connecticut, so I guess i'm just going to have to be happy listening to one of their CD's until next Spring 2000.

A couple of other events worth noting are the, Liat Dror Nir Ben Gal Company's "The Dance of Nothing", which is an incredible and awesome, beyond words dance experience, on their first American tour, and locally the bands "Jack Straw" and "The Mad Hatties" which play lively, real, thoughtful, bluegrass music. Peace.