I see my light come shining

I spent Friday evening in the East Bay watching Bill Frisell play at Yoshi's. After an initial outdoor hot-weather round with KPK at the First and Last Chance Saloon -- and then, a potentially catastrophic second round at bad-day bar Merchant's Saloon -- we ventured into Yoshi's for the main event.

Frisell took the stage with steel guitarist Greg Leisz, a bassist, a drummer, and a forbidding electronic device that would surely be blown up by authorities if you left it on the steps of City Hall. Frisell played solo for about a minute (with the electronic slap-back/reverse sampler effect he would often deploy again), then the rest of the band entered in formless raga-ish mode for a short while before hitting a slow, warm groove. (KPK identified the first piece, but I couldn't... and I've since forgotten the title.)

Frisell is the type of player who uses the whole guitar, if you know what I mean. He rarely seems to miss a chance to allow a low open string to resonate while he frets unusual chords, often with strange overtones, higher up the neck. Although much of his playing is exceptionally serene and placid, he was not afraid to explore the dissonances hiding in "Straight No Chaser." (Frisell's preferred method of dissonance is strictly harmonic, however; despite the bevy of effects, he never leaned on them for distortion or other artificial means to get his skronk on.)

Although all four players worked together constantly, the dynamic of this band was clearly built around Frisell and Leisz squaring off against the rhythm section; the two guitarists faced each other and traded ideas while the bassist and drummer provided atmosphere and support for much of the night. (If I'm not mistaken, Leisz stuck to lap steel for a majority of the set, and played pedal steel on only two pieces.)

The band played only about six or seven numbers, constituting well over an hour of satisfying music. (I see that Frisell has recorded Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" on his live East/West album, but I can't find any citations for a recorded cover of Dylan's "I Shall Be Released." They did both.) All this, and there was still time to get over the Bay Bridge before the nightmarish traffic patterns began. Good thing we didn't go for the late show.


FMFM: The fascinating 1950 Red Norvo Trio sessions found on Disc Two of The Young Rebel, a not-quite-comprehensive overview of Charles Mingus' early years. Some fairly standard jammy stuff -- albeit with young Mingus's impossibly bold bass playing -- is tempered by a few sound sculptures (the Latin-tinged "Time and Tide," for one) that escape category. (By the set list, it sure looks like someone was enjoying Birth of the Cool too.)