Scene: the venue is close to my home, as in down the block close to my home. The East Village nuggets of music places are becoming known, and on this freezing rainy cold night it was a welcomed gift that I didn’t have to walk far. I thought I was going to a bar, but, there was no bar. There was a room with rows of seats for an audience to sit and listen. Later that evening I found out this was John Zorn‘s club. Um, yeah, Zorn’s club a block away from my home. I keep falling in love with this city more and more.
This was a night of experimental jazz. This was a night of three men reading sheet music. This was a night of drums making sounds I’ve never heard, where ambient sound was just as important as the primary notes, where instruments get stretched to make noises unknown, and a beat that is sometimes lost, intentionally, for just a second. It was great fun to listen to, every man up there is incredibly talented.
Will Bernard on guitar teased the tones out of all the equipment available, ended up bringing out his slide, putting the guitar on his lap, tapping the strings with his palm at one point. My my my… Ches Smith making noises off that drum set in a way I have never heard. He brought out all the props, scratched the cymbals with his sticks, hit the sides of all his drums, it made the sweetest set of hollow percussion tones. Todd wailing on that massive upright bass.
Another beautiful, musical evening in Alphabet City.
Set list (thank you Will!):
Crab Apple Red
Not Necessarily Stoned