Business stuff: This month we're taking a look at MMW in 1996. We'll be touching on the topic of 99 performances from the jazz masters in a few months, for a little compare and contrast. Next month we'll be celebrating the first release from Ratdog by focusing on the king of all rock stars, Bob Weir. Send in your Ratdog or Bob and Rob reviews, or whatever else you're listening to. I'll save them for a month when they fit in, or do a readers choice month. Continue to send me any comments or suggestions- feed back is always welcome.

Music:
MMW, 4/13/96 @ Liberty Lunch, Austin, TX SBD
Set I:
A: Intro > Nightmarchers, Jelly Belly > ITAHTLMJ
B: Dracula > The Lover > Lonely Avenue
Set II:
A: Dontlo's House Party > Chinoserie, Think
B: Bubblehouse, Crosstown Traffic, E/ Chubb Sub

This is the pair of tapes that I slip in the deck when I'm driving to a show with friends. They've heard of MMW, probably heard a couple of their discs, but they probably haven't been appropriately floored by the trio. So I pop in one of these without comment and just let it roll as background sound for a bit before turning it up, little by little. Before long there is the inevitable, "Whoa! What is this?" And I'm not kidding about the inevitability; I once had a card load of students who complained about a 97 Phish ("Don't they sing?"), a 69 Dead ("This is creepy."), and an acoustic Hot Tuna ("Folk music?") howl at the end of the Bubblehouse from this second set.

A short intro moves right into Nightmarchers with ease. It's not especially long or mind blowing, but it does rock, and serves as a good energy gauge for the show. The following Jelly Belly is where the trio hits its stride. Aside from the catchy lil' riff early on, there is an extended area in the midsection where Chris and John do some start/stop work allowing Billy to solo in between. The truly amazing thing is the originality of each of the half dozen solos. A lesser kit-man would melt each interlude into one large, perforated solo, but Mr. Martin addresses each pause afresh, going from rollin' and tumblin', to easy cymbal work, to a pounding groove. And the precision of John and Chris, the absolutely clean stops, is thrilling right up to the point where the music drops not into another solo, but a tweaked Is There Anybody Here That Loves My Jesus. The musicians all complement each other perfectly, Chris's heavy notes accentuating Billy's light and loose rhythmic flow, which in turn serves as a counter point for Medeski's aggressively off kilter organ. At each refrain the groove eases down to such a silky softness that you can't help but lean forward, trying to get closer to the sound, only to have the squawk of the clav push you back. A really amazing balance is achieved.

The beginning of Dracula is reminiscent of that Hallmark tape of Halloween sounds that's buried somewhere in your closet. It's spooky in an entirely entertaining and camping way, much like the old, black and white Nosferatu. Chris slowly brings the song into focus while Billy grates and grinds and John noodles. Once the monster is actually released though, it slips and slides through the Bohemian night, lurching out of the shadows; it's cape fluttering as it rounds each bend. While the quick, heavy builds before each refrain add a great accent, what works best here is John's constant, slow and frighteningly calm rhythm work that lingers right till the bitter end.

The Lover establishes a sweetly spasmodic train of thought, making it highly danceable. In mid-song, during the up-tempo portion, the trio hits a nice vein, everyone responding, but no one taking the lead. It's one of those grooves that could just keep going and going. And it does for quite a while before a long, low bass note immerses you into a spacey solo that makes allusion to the earlier Dracula. From nowhere there is a faint count down that erupts into an outrageous Lonely Avenue. Lithe and slick, this one is just too hot for words, so I'll say no more.

Tape II picks up right where the first one left off, with the smooth groove of Macha offering up a variety of textures while maintaining a focused and funky mindset. John steers clear of abrasive riffs for the most part, aiming for more melodic areas instead. That's not to say, of course, that the music doesn't get nasty. The second improv segment has a great heavy feel as the whole trio oscillates in full jam mode. The transition to Chinoserie is flawless and the slightly lighter vibe of the song is reminiscent of the late bee-bop era, complete with multiple bass and drum solos. Again the contrast is subtle and complimentary.

With Think, however, the guys move into a strange dynamic opposition of grinding funk and real sparseness, where the notes do more to emphasize the space than to establish a solid idea. It is unlike any other version I've heard, with the intro spending a long time moving in no particular direction, being in no particular rush. There is some really spectacular bass work here, just before the first refrain. And while that refrain boils for a bit, the quieter Zen vibe dominates all of the improvisation.

And then there is Bubblehouse, a rocket that scorches the sky on 90-degree path to the stars. It rages so hard before the groove plateau, that when the theme returns some 10 minutes later, it catches you off guard. That's the inevitable "Whoa!" moment. Billy takes a second to do introductions and mention that "music is healing, is it not?" before the monstrous closer, Crosstown Traffic. There is something wonderful about MMW covers of Hendrix, something about the aggressively confident renderings that gets to the heart of what Hendrix was all about.

MMW @ The Fox Theater, Boulder, CO SBD
A: Intro > Oscillation > Macha, Last Chance, Think
B: Bass > Chubb Sub II: Pakalolo, Goodbye Pork Hat, Crosstown Traffic

This is another fine example of the precision and energy that characterizes mid 90s MMW shows. The intro jam is somewhat longer than others in this tour, focusing mainly on the variety of percussive treats in Billy Martin's arsenal. Slipping through the sleek grooves of Oscillation, the music deposits itself at the funktatious depot of Macha. It overflows with energy from every direction, Chris pinning down the beat while Billy slides underneath, allowing John to rise up with his own brand of molten magma.

Last Chance to Dance Trance is one of those songs that forces your auditory skills to be pliable. The tone is that of a macabre ghost dance in some nameless, deserted Spanish villa. Medeski's organ washes over a pronounced and desperate idea, using it as an island in a sea of wispy, transforming sounds. Billy rolls in with a drum solo that develops in a straight line, building to a peak before the song ends. The follow up is a shortish Think, Chris leading the way early on. The groove movement kicks in on some serious shakin' in Shacklyn. Chris also introduces Chubb Sub with a brief but defined solo. Chubb Sub (along with ITAHTLMJ) is a tune that has remained prolific in set lists throughout the years, and for good reason. In 96 the bass-line and funky boards were an indicator of the band's future direction- fusing a hip-hop sensibility to jazz concepts, or vice versa. I find it hard to listen to early versions without hearing Logic's tables somewhere behind my memory.

From set II, Pakalolo establishes an easy flowing vibe, Chris and John complimenting each other with Billy tying it all together, emphasizing the slow boil and rotations of this fantastic tune. Pork Hat is very classically rendered- almost a Waltz- whereas Crosstown Traffic stretches a bit with a potent bass solo and grinding keys. It's the second set closer and great way to end the tape.