#5: The Point of No Return
Cosmic Jazz Rock, American Primitive Plus & Japanese Healing Music
Before the headliner, I wanna note that I’ll be posting the most recent archive and playlist for my weekly radio show, The Trailhead, here from now on. Listen to it here!
Playlist for Trailhead 17 (1/7/24):
KVHW was a short-lived late 90’s band featuring criminally undersung American guitarist Steve Kimock. No stranger to someone steeped in the Grateful Dead family tree, Kimock deserves wider recognition as his tasteful, soaring and deeply musical style appeals to jazzers, psychedelic rangers and classic rockers. He’s known as “The Tone Guru” to the converted and his 45 years in music should be investigated by all true music heads.
Their lifespan relegated to 1998 and 1999, KVHW burned bright for those two years and played a lot of shows, most available via the Live Music Archive.
Besides Kimock the band consisted of bassist Bobby Vega, drummer Alan Hertz and guitarist/vocalist Ray White. Among other outlets, Vega played with Kimock in Zero (a band worth another post someday) whereas White had spent time with Frank Zappa.
Most KVHW tapes I’ve heard were beautifully recorded with on-stage mics. Great for the instruments, not so great for the vocals. So White’s singing has always kind of been neither here nor there for me. But it was a recent random hitting of their 12/26/98 Wetlands gig recently that made me a true believer.
This Wetlands gig has everything this band could give: funky throwdowns, cosmic corridors and the most soulful of struts. A mix of member written originals and covers, a KVHW gig seemed to be a momentous meeting of the spirits with each member at their very best for a collective push into new dimensions.
The tape is fantastic from start to finish but the peakiest peaks can be found in Spring Water, The Point of No Return and the smoldering run of Soul Roach > Shotgun House > Soul Roach.
Massive thanks to taper/transferrer Ken K who seemed to be in the sweet spot on the floor in Wetlands, capturing this band in all its glory. Get it here.
Great to see & hear VHF Records is releasing a new Elkhorn record next month. Shackamaxon Concert is a collaboration with fiddler Mike Gangloff, who is best known as a core member of long running psych/drone/folk concern Pelt. It was that group’s 2001 live double CD Ayahuasca that introduced me to the fingerstyle work of the late, great Jack Rose and Virginia-based VHF—one of the finest American underground labels there is.
Since then I became a voracious seeker of solo instrumental acoustic guitar music, a field that has grown quite large over the last 10 years with a lot of innovation coming in. One of the brightest lights in the resurgence has been the flowing from Philadelphia/NYC duo Elkhorn.
For me, it feels like a circle being completed with Jesse Sheppard and Drew Gardner teaming up with Gangloff on Shackamaxon Concert, which was recorded in Rose’s adopted home of Philadelphia, where he fell for good at the shocking age of 38.
The album is composed of two pieces, the first side, ‘East Dauphin Suite’, is streaming now and it feels instantly mystical and spiritual. Unhurried and comfortable, it feels like three friends spinning bittersweet tales and remembrances for a long lost fourth.
The Lontano Series continues to be one of the most dependable outlets for experimental and ambient music anywhere. A division of Rohs! Records, the label was established in 2018 in Berlin and now calls Italy home.
Prolific and generous (every release is available digitally for a little more than a dollar), Lontano Series has released works by more well known names like David Cordero, Rhucle and Mind Over MIDI in addition to giving many artists their first/best exposure.
So it’s with great pleasure and speed that I check out new releases on the label. Most of them hit the spot, some make me stop in my tracks.
The latter is happening as I indulge in the preview cuts from Kuus, the collaborative effort from Uchida Sound Labo + Shun Kodama. Cavernous yet warm, Kuus’ beauty is understated with minimal washes of electronics and picked acoustic guitar. Some icy drones develop but melt away toward a healing light. Birds chirp and dynamics subtly shift and it’s all really a beautiful experience.
The notes on Slow Dancing Society’s latest, Do We Become Sky?, suggest it’s best appreciated in full.
At 86 minutes, that can seem like a tall order but once the album is playing, time just sort of collapses inside its synthetic realm. Reminiscent of Windy & Carl at their most celestial, Do We Become Sky? glides beautifully from source to receiver. Each piece follows its own progression, peaking or releasing but never roaring. Really nice.
Great newsletter! I’m working through the early 2000s SKB band stuff on Nugs and ReListen. Do you have a fav tour or show from that era?