LongBeachCulture.org CenterStage Blog

By Greggory Moore

“You guys were fantastic,” I said as I handed over $10 for C.O.M.A.’s CD immediately after they finished their set. “That was the greatest jazz performance I’ve seen.” What I meant by my embarrassed gush was not that I’m an expert on live jazz, nor that C.O.M.A. deserves to be summed up as “jazz” (quotation marks as the use of the word becomes increasingly suspect). The impetus behind my remark was two-fold: 1) this is where I’d long hoped to find jazz in this era; and 2) the three gentlemen of the California Outside Music Associates are exceptional at playing it.

At first blush it appeared C.O.M.A. would be a straight-ahead combo, even though the sax and drums were complemented by a five-string electric cello instead of stand-up bass. The opening segment of the first of their two longish pieces didn’t belie this notion, even as the tightly controlled frenzy evinced the uniqueness of including non-standard instrumentation, something that made the trio sound impossibly big. But as they progressed, switching up what they were doing before any of it got even a little stale, it became clear that a different aesthetic was at work. Yes, it would be surprising if these boys were not fans of John Coltrane and Charles Mingus, but no more so than if they weren’t also fans of bands along the lines of Phish, The Flaming Lips, Velvet Underground, and maybe even Sonic Youth. The result is something like Pharoah Sanders working under the auspices of Angelo Badalamenti, but incorporating a wider musical and technological range. The latter included use of a theremin and digital delay, but the effects were always an organic part of the sound, not an alteration of it (and so “effects” only on a technicality). That is part of what C.O.M.A. seem to have taken from certain contemporary non-jazz bands: they play “effects” merely as an extension of their instruments. The (e.g.) digital delay might be simply another drum or string. Also, the “jazz” that they play is not simply jazz.

But for all this, C.O.M.A. is a jazz band, a jazz band firmly planted in the 21st century. John Vaughn (sax, theremin, percussion), Zone (cello), and Dax Compise (drums, percussion) have masterful chops, yet display the good taste to let silence be part of the alchemy when that is what best serves the moment. Ego does not seem to be on display here, and the busiest soloing (always in context) gives way to the gentlest comps and layers with true ease. Any one of the three might break into a steady, supportive beat, leaving the others overlay it as they may. Vaughn breathes as much as he blows, eliciting from his brass everything from intense screaming to raspy overtones. Zone can bow and well as he can pluck, can strum driving chords as well as he can finger gently sliding walks. Compise pounds out rococo rhythms as well as he brushes and taps tuneful textures. The only thing that seems off limits to each member in his sound-producing ethos is damaging his instrument. And yet, for all the variety of playing technique, there was never anything even remotely gimmicky at work. C.O.M.A. does with jazz what Kronos Quartet does with chamber music: they update and expand the tradition. I would not hesitate to recommend C.O.M.A. to both purists and to those looking for something more “modern.” I’ll say it again: this was the greatest jazz performance I’ve seen. Go to www.comaonline.com for more info (including a CD for sale that captures the band in a more traditional vein).

Minus Radio opened their last-ever performance with a half-dozen songs that seemed to me WAY too loud for the room, and I had to excuse myself to the bookstore proper for the duration. The trio of Bill Cutts, Randy de Anda, and Gerardo Gonzalez knocked out some thrashy noisecore in alternate tuning(s) that you’d think was random if it weren’t for how well the parts go together (including stops and resolves). I must admit that there was a great deal of sound for two guitars sans effects (save basic amp distortion) and drums, but there seemed to be a pronounced dearth of variety in the material, the only real change-up in dynamics coming in their final song, which started out with a quiet, steady rhythm and some nice textural work—but this gave way to the sameness of the other five songs. These guys certainly had some control over what they were churning out; I just think taking a step back might have generated something not so easily dismissible. Most puzzling were the vocals, which were way back in the mix and seemed to be little more than random yells and screams tacked on for the sake of . . . well, not the music. But what do I know? “That was too loud for you?” asked a 40ish woman as I returned to my seat after Minus Radio had ended their career. To my affirmative reply, she had a quick rejoinder: “That’s the whole point.” Okay, whatever.

This was yet another free show at {open} (144 Linden). If your neighborhood is more culturally impoverished than mine (and it almost has to be), get your ass thisaway and see some of the most remarkable performances by artists too few have heard of. Dial yourself in at accessopen.com.