Jazz concert review: George Cartwright and Crux

When: Friday, Oct. 29 • Where: Whiteroom • Who: Crux: George Cartwright, saxophones; Andrew Broder, guitar; Tim Glenn, drums

Shortly before leaving for Jekyll and Hyde Come Alive at MacPhail, I saw a facebook posting from drummer Tim Glenn for “An Evening of Transparent Radiation” at a place called the Whiteroom on Jackson Street. Lights and production by Wonderhaus, sounds and drone by DJ Overzealous, three bands: Delta Lyrae, Crux, Dallas Orbiter.

It was Crux that pulled us there: George Cartwright, Andrew Broder, Tim Glenn. Cartwright, a saxophone and improvising monster, once a fixture in NYC at the Knitting Factory and now living in the Twin Cities, plays out too seldom (and updates his online calendar even less often, hint). The last time we saw him, at the Acadia with Davu Seru and Josh Granowski, the music was good but the room was bad. The new Acadia has shoved its stage into an acoustically crappy corner, and the people who sat directly in front of the stage were disrespectful. They behaved as if the three musicians playing their a**es off were a television someone had left on by mistake, so it was okay to laugh and talk loudly and carry on.

Back to Crux: Since we didn’t get out of MacPhail until after 10, I thought we might be too late, but we arrived just in time for their set.

Martin Dosh and Tim Glenn

When: Saturday, August 16, 2008 • Where: Café Maude • Who: Martin Dosh and Tim Glenn

On Maude’s calendar, tonight is billed as “experimental electro-acoustic improv with martin DOSH and tim glenn prepared piano+percussion+keyboards+electronics.”

I’m not much into indie/experimental pop/rock except where it intersects with jazz, but I saw Tim Glenn play recently with Kelly Rossum at the Dakota, Glenn is with Fog (along with Andrew Broder, who gave a memorable performance at the Cedar with George Cartwright), and I’ve seen good music at Maude. Plus (now former) City Pages writer Jeff Severns Guntzel wrote a glowing feature on Martin Dosh back in April that made me really, really want to see him.

So we go, up for anything and hoping the grilled Brussels sprouts are back on the menu.

Guntzel loves Dosh and Philip Bither at the Walker loves Dosh and Mike Lewis loves Dosh but a half-hour goes by, we’re sitting right in front of Dosh and Glenn eating crab cakes and corn chowder (no Brussels sprouts yet; probably in the fall) and I’m not feeling the love. Dosh is wearing headphones, looping and recording. Glenn is doing something with wires and knobs and a computer. They could be anywhere, we could be anywhere.

For me, live music means two things, and they don’t have to occur simultaneously:

1) the musicians play for the people in the room, and
2) the people, or at least some of the people, pay attention at least some of the time.

I’m not saying that performers have to smile and dance and tell stories and take requests, or that the audience must be rapt and silent except for bursts of applause, but there should be some connection. I could be watching Dosh and Glenn on television, or from outside Maude looking in through the big window, or through one-way glass in a police station.

Maybe it's an off night for them, maybe it's just me…but the crowd is smaller than I've seen on a Saturday night at the normally hopping bistro. The usual complement of jazz musicians and moms isn't here. It could be packed with other indie musicians and I wouldn't know, but no one seems to be listening very hard.

We stay for one set (actually one extended, repetitive piece), pay our bill, and leave. The photo is of the snowman inside Dosh’s prepared piano. Blurry and indistinct, like the evening.

Rossum Electric Company

When: Saturday, July 27, 2008 • Where: Dakota • Who: Kelly Rossum, trumpet and electronics; Bryan Nichols, keyboards; Ryan Olcott, electronics and circuit-bending; Tim Glenn, drums and percussion

When I talk with Kelly the week before this late-night show (for a MinnPost preview), he's not yet sure what it will be. "The trumpet won't sound like a trumpet, and the piano won't sound like a piano," he says. And the music will be...? "Not outside, just over there."

He explains that "circuit-bending is a technique where you physically alter an instrument. For example, you might take an old Casio keyboard, pop the top and rewire the circuitry." Craig Taborn does this, too, but until now I had no clue what it meant.

Turns out the Rossum Electric Company isn't a new band but a revival. "Back in 1998," he says, "I played a gig with a band called the Rossum Electric Company at the Clown Night, subbing one night when JT [Bates] was out of town." He also plays his "electrumpet" for Electropolis.



Tonight's first set is an hour long, without interruption. I strap in and hold on. The second set is shorter and also satisfying. As with any set involving a lot of electronics, there's a lot of pedal-pushing and dial-turning and button-adjusting, with wires snaking everywhere onstage. I can't always tell which sounds are coming from which instrument but I don't much care. The sound is good, the vibe is good, we're all having a good time. A quote from "Caravan" floats by, and other bits and pieces of tunes I think I recognize but can't name. Something reminds me of Miles Davis's "Tutu."

Not outside, just over there.

Photos by John Whiting. Aieeeee, the neon sign! A dimmer, we're told, is imminent.

Park Evans

When: 4/18/08
Who: Park Evans (guitars and electronics), Brian Roessler (bass), Tim Glenn (drums)
Where: Cafe Maude

One of us says no to cake at the dessert reception following Bruce Henry's Freedom Train performance (hint: not HH) so it's off to Maude after. So far we've been there only on Friday nights for jazz. Saturday is their ambient night, whatever that means.

Tonight it means Park Evans and a mellow groove. We have grilled brussels sprouts (they're delicious) and what I seriously believe are the best hamburgers in town while enjoying really nice late-night music.

The trio plays a tune I know but can't figure out for the longest time. A beautiful melody, like a Gregorian chant, repeated and played with, drawn out, returned to. What is it? It's making me crazy. Then I start hearing words in my head. It's the Advent carol "O Come, O Come Emanuel."

If Evans wants to do a holiday CD, I'm for it.

I have to pay more attention to Maude's music schedule. While looking up the names of the people who played with Evans, I learn that Douglas Ewart was here last Saturday, with cellist Jacqueline Ferrier-Ultan (of Jelloslave) and percussionist Stephen Goldstein. That was the night we saw Peter Lang at the Dakota (and before then, Beyond Category), but still, it would have been tempting to try for three.

Photo by John Whiting. It's dark at Maude.