November 2001

Mukilteo
Whirled Jazz
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Last Minute Gifts
Rob Blakeslee Quartet
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Chunks of Zen
The Tone Sharks
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Waxing the Slide
Dave Storrs
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Beginnings and Endings
Boundary Issues
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By Laurence Donohue-Greene

South of Oregon’s capital, Salem, and near the same distance north from Eugene, Carvallis (in condensed Latin, meaning “heart of the valley”) is located between the Pacific Ocean on the west and the Cascade Mountains due east. Here the heart of the Wilamette Valley not only provides a home for Oregon State University, but also for a rather obscure indie jazz and improvisational music label known as Louie Records. Through superb musicianship, above par sound quality, and low budget packaging, percussionist and owner of Louie Records, Dave Storrs, has quietly since 1995 created nearly two dozen music chestnuts which make up the present Louie catalogue, hence helping to put the Northwest on the map of the progressive jazz world.

The fine sounding recordings that Louie Records produces (ironically with some being done in a garage studio with a minimalist approach to engineering, post recording editing and touch-ups) help to prove a long known though sometimes ignored fact. That being the corporate level of major record companies (and the occasional wealthy indie, though to many that would be considered an oxymoron) which continue to unnecessarily spend such a superfluous amount of money on their respective record releases. As a consequence, the market has become saturated with, for the most part, regurgitated concepts and/or pure crapola not even worth a single listening. All the pre-promotion and pre-release date expenditures (which, of course, include recording studio rates, A & R and producer fees, and the packaging itself, as well as various other factors) can add up to tens of thousands of dollars in most cases. The business side to the music business becomes basically a distraction to the art itself—-i.e. the music. Who needs the extraneous consoles, soundboards, high profiled and, consequently, high salaried recording engineer(s), not to mention all the various other costs that supposedly are factors in the making of a musically successful record, especially if they are not essential or even necessary? Certainly not Louie Records.

One of the latest additions to the strengthening Louie Records catalogue is Rich Halley’s Coyotes in the City. With four of the six tracks running over ten minutes, and three of those four extending near the thirteen and a half minute mark, Halley’s trio of Clyde Reed (bass) and Dave Storrs (drums and percussion) gives the listener more than a taste of original music through their sheer improvisations. The recording is a throwback to the days when music didn’t necessarily need to be written down—-it convincingly gives the impression of an off-the-cuff creation. It’s as if the trio agreed that they were going to spontaneously create whatever came together within the hour or so that the session was actually recorded, which indeed winds up being the case. Of course, these tunes may have been so ingrained into this collective’s repertoire that its function as a springboard into improvisational stratospheres became second nature, if not an inevitable next step. Elvin Jones’ trio with Joe Farrell and Jimmy Garrison occasionally comes to mind (Puttin’ It Together, 1968), though Halley performs with more of an edge found in Billy Harper’s playing, especially throughout the opening workout for the trio, “Green, Brown, and Blue”.

Storrs’ peripatetic movements ideally compliment Halley, whose boisterous playing covers the full range of the tenor while leaving absolutely no emotion left unturned. All the subtleties and nuances from Storr’s percussive nature are heard to great effect throughout the session. His accompaniment to Reed’s bass is also superb, setting a landscape that gives Reed both clarity and purpose. There is actually a point where the music loosens so much so that a free-for-all vibe sprouts forth in the vein of the quintessential ‘60s rock supergroup jam improv, “Do What You Like” (originally of course performed by the short-lived yet timeless trio known as the one-album wonder, Blind Faith). Storrs in his best Ginger Baker impersonation shows that this is only one proverbial hat he comfortably wears, while Reed seems to have a distinct advantage of adding on his bass what Blind Faith bassist, Rick Grech, might not have had in his arsenal back in ’67.

Halley utilizes his evident Archie Shepp influence as a catalyst for “Green Dusk”, recalling some of Shepp’s seminal recordings of “Sophisticated Lady” (The Way Ahead, 1968), as well as Shepp’s latter day work found on his rendition of Coltrane’s “Wise One” (Ballads For Trane, 1984). On “Rimrocks”, the trio continues to sound much larger than a mere threesome, even though their collective use of space provides an essential element to the overall sound of the group—an element that similar sized and, of course, larger ensembles seem to be insensitive to or just have a tendency to ignore. Space is a precious commodity, and this trio treats this aspect of the music with the respect it rightfully deserves, proving that the music is just as much the space between the notes as the notes themselves. Signifying within a solo that things are about to be taken up a notch or two, Halley’s momentous and kinetically charged high notes are reminiscent of what contemporary musicians such as Chicagoan Ken Vandermark have mastered, while Storrs’ fleet brush work provides a busy yet unobtrusive path for the leader. It is commonplace for musicians, horn players in particular, to work on the mastery and subsequent mastering of hitting certain notes. However, what’s absent from many players is the essence of interpretation—-i.e. what goes behind or underneath each note played and its relevance to the notes that precede and succeed it, not to mention the other sounds swirling around that respective musician at that very moment. Consequently, what musicians are actually playing is not only lost forever, but never found in the first place! Halley not only gives meaning to what he plays, because you can sense he is speaking directly to the listener through his horn, but he refreshingly and convincingly reveals the fact that he is not simply just playing notes for notes-sake.

Halley, who has over half a dozen releases out as a leader at this point, was most recently associated with Nine Winds Records, on which he recorded three sessions as a leader. Nine Winds, another fine musician-run label (multi-reedman Vinny Golia has been at the helm of Nine Winds’ operations since the mid-‘70s) actually shares several music and musician connections with Louie. For starters, each label features Michael Vlatkovich (trombone) and Rob Blakeslee (trumpet, cornet, fluegelhorn), both of whom are featured at length on one of Louie Records’ strongest recordings, Last Minute Gifts, released last year. The official leader of the session is Blakeslee, who over the last thirty plus years has been associated with the likes of Oliver Lake, Anthony Braxton, and the late John Carter, in addition to Vinny Golia and fellow North-Westerner, Wayne Horvitz. Vlatkovich has worked with Bobby Bradford and Gerry Hemingway, and together with Blakeslee creates harmonies quite similar to that of two tightly knit musical relationships, in particular, that immediately come to mind: Ornette Coleman with Don Cherry, and Roswell Rudd with Steve Lacy. They move as one, interspersing and weaving sentiments with and around one another from the beginning of the session to the end, while the rhythm section of Clyde Reed and Dave Storrs, once again, serve as a continually evolving backdrop for the horns’ momentum surges. All six tunes were composed by the leader, four of which extend beyond 10 minutes (while the other two exceed 8 minutes). Presumably all were first takes, reflecting that spirit and spontaneity most commonly found once the tape has begun rolling.

As a sidenote, the cover art for Last Minute Gifts proves to be the exception to the non-descript covers of collages or random snapshots that happen to grace most Louie releases. The visually stunning photograph (perhaps digitally enhanced) borders on an incredibly detailed oil painting. A dark backdrop surreally showcases eight dissembled golden brass trombone bells, visually resembling an abstract cross between long-necked English festival trumpets and jousting poles (depending on whether you look at them from top to bottom or vice versa). Though you can’t, as the saying goes, judge a book by its cover—-it certainly doesn’t hurt when you exploit the basic purpose of a cover’s main function, putting the listener in the right mindset before the disc is even in the player.

Yet another Louie record release, which you’d never guess from the outside had such goodies on the inside, is by the quartet Whirled Jazz. Their recent 2001 release, entitled Mukilteo, is at times reminiscent of John Zorn’s Masada, though instead of the Zorn and Dave Douglas alto-trumpet harmonies, Keller Coker (who, at times, reveals a young exploratory Curtis Fuller and even J.J. Johnson circa his 1960, J.J. Inc.) adds a warmer and less bright trombone sound alongside alto saxophonist (and flutist), Tom Bergeron. On “Hum-Sah”, the second of six tracks on the CD (all of which, mind you, are Bergeron originals), Bergeron’s alto and Coker’s trombone share a few bars that honestly seem like minutes, producing exemplary Masada-like harmonies. Time literally stands still before Bergeron moves into a nimble fingered alto run. The horn empathy is also heard to particular advantage on the following two pieces, “Pacific Crest” (one of the five tunes that extends beyond the eight and a half minute mark, as the title track actually weighs in at the shortest length of six and a half minutes), as well as “Tadasana”. The electric bass playing of Page Hundemer successfully exploits characteristics of both the electric and acoustic family members of his instrument. And as far as Bergeron’s flute work, you can hear a Henry Threadgill influence in both his composition and playing (“Radiance”).

Dave Storrs reveals an additional dimension beyond his drummer status heard on Mukilteo, as he more keenly focuses on his percussionist attributes for the late ‘80s Louie release by the Califas Ensemble entitled, Locations. A Mickey Hart meets John Lurie music affair, the quartet of two percussionists and two horn men, with multi-reedman Mike Curtis (clarinet, oboe, soprano sax, tarogato, and bass recorder) and trumpeter Rob Blakeslee, provides a sound collage of 18 percussion-oriented pieces ranging from one to five minutes. Bassist turned timbale player, Dan Scollard, is exclusively featured alongside Storrs as the second percussionist on this multi-tracked and overdubbed recording. Curtis, on tenor sax, has several moments that reveal his acknowledged gratitude to the playing of Wayne Shorter, pre- and post-Weather Report, while on clarinet he harks back to the playing of the still active though amazingly under-rated Tony Scott (check out Bergeron on “Box o’Rocks” and then give a listen to Scott’s ‘84 recording, African Bird Come Back! Mother Africa for a connection of potential inspiration). There’s also a wonderful trumpet and hand percussion Dizzy Gillespie-Giovanni Hidalgo homage of sorts found on the Afro-Cuban “The Deep Southeast”.

If you still happen to have a copy of the music from Woodstock, go back and check out the opening “Crowd Rain Chant” track (just preceding Santana’s “Soul Sacrifice”), and you’ll immediately sense perhaps the origins to Califas’ percussion extravaganza, “Quilt From Nairobi” featuring layer upon layer of beats and handheld percussive effects. Also the unique reed instrument known as the tarogato, which only has a few regular jazz practitioners, amongst them Charles Lloyd and Peter Brotzmann, can be heard beautifully played by Curtis on the haunting “Burning Fields”.

You’re bound to enjoy the releases Louie Records has to offer, and these are only four of the near two dozen released. In the words of Cadence Magazine’s Frank Rubolino from his liner notes to Blakeslee’s Last Minute Gifts, “Listen to this (group) with open ears…The rewards are ongoing.” Similar can be said for the many other Louie recordings, which though may be hard to find in stores, can easily be found at the Louie Record website).

Other recommended Louie releases:

• The Tone Sharks - Chunks of Zen (Music made for the road. The quintet improvisational session covers all ground with the emphasis placed on group versus individual soloing. Deserved of many repeated listenings!)
• Mike Klobas/Dave Storrs - Pursue (Amazing drum/percussion duet in the tradition of the Milford Graves and Sonny Morgan ESP recording, Percussion Ensemble, from 1965.)
• Dave Storrs - Another Thing (Solo percussion soundscape.)
• Jim Knodle/Dave Storrs - Unprepared (Experimental trumpet and percussion duet.)