When we or others take the time to think and take stock of ourselves, on what factors do we or they base judgment? In large part, the criteria chosen provide answers to questions as deep as who we are and what we do. For the modern-day musician, what are these criteria? Is a fair judgement based on units sold, the profile of the gig, the numbers in attendance at performances, the respectability of the venues, the quality and global reach of distribution of the recordings or perish the thought, the quality of the reviews received? Shouldn't it rather be measured by the mastery of the instrument and the methodology of presenting and delivering it to the masses, including the studio and now, computers; the number of styles delved into and comfort with them, the number and quality of interactions with other musicians, the willingness to give the music to others, to the point of giving it away and the willingness to give oneself to the moment- to the music? HEY!? THE MUSIC, MAN! By all of the latter criteria Jonathan Townes, as well as the cast he surrounds himself with here may be adjudged a resounding success.

It never ceases to amaze me what's out there to be found if you look hard enough. On this record for instance, the thirty year old leader of the date from Frederick Maryland, is a practicing Yogi and guitar player who at one point became so enamored of John Coltrane and grew so frustrated by the inadequacy of pulling off his phrasing, that while in college took up saxophone and studied with ex-Jazz Messenger Billy Pierce. Jonathan already has three discs available under his own name and a fourth (the Sun's Anvil project) featuring him as chief composer and co-producer. Rather than wait for the critics to play catch-up, Jonathan has even developed intriguing and quite fitting terminology for his music, calling it Liquid Stream of Electric Consciousness.

The bassist on the date is Neal Fountain, a virtual unknown from Macon Georgia who logged serious time early on as the only white member (a twenty year old) in a band of black funk masters; former members of Otis Redding's and James Brown's bands, all over the age of forty. He is so enraptured and enamored by the sound of the organ that he for one, plays it marvelously but more pertinently here, can imitate it flawlessly on a six string electric bass, armed with no effects save a chorus ensemble. He has performed trio dates on guitar, playing nothing but the music of his idol Bill Frisell, and is a former member of southern visionary Colonel Bruce Hampton's Zappa-cum-Allman Fiji Mariners. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this about him- while there are no expert critics regarding music in general and jazz in particular, I'll cop to this- if I know anything it's electric bass and as they say in e-mailese, IMHOP he's in the top handful of electric bassists on the face of the planet. Daniel Sadownick and Andy Sanesi have quite simply played percussion and drums for everybody (haven't they?) and with keyboardist Alex Lacamoire, logged substantial time with John Zorn.

Back to Townes and Fountain- both have stunning ears for funk, jazz and far Eastern musics. Both have grown tired of composing in the standard fashion. Jonathan has written some cool tunes in the past, in a variety of styles. That's all changed to hear him tell it:

I write from my ear. I use theory to solve musical problems if they arise, but they seldom do. Music theory came after Music. Use theory to write and you sound like you've used theory to write. I don't write much any more. I've found that people play much better when either they've internalized the music or they're improvising. Lately, I've skipped the writing step because it's much easier for people to get right to the music. Besides, I'm so bored with music that I like the surprise.

I liken music to driving. I used to drive alot when I was at home. I mean, it's home. I know all the places. If I need to get somewhere, I just get in the car and drive. Pretty simple. Pretty boring. I know the tune. I know the turnarounds. I know where it's going. So after a couple of years of driving, I started to go places that I hadn't been. Really tried to get lost. Tried to find someplace new. I never did get lost, but I went to some places I never had expected, never knew were there. Some beautiful, amazing places. Each time I'd do that, I'd ultimately get lost somewhere down the line, and I'd happen upon that new discovery and make my way back home. From those driving expeditions, I'd be expanding my knowledge of the terrain, honing my directional chops. It's the same with music. Exactly the same. I want to go where I've never been. . . .

When asked if his religion and philosophy affect the music, he says: Certainly. When I listen to myself play or listen to music I've written, I don't feel any connection, like it's not me. Although I remember the process of creation, I feel apart from it. From what I know of myself, I couldn't have made those sounds. I'm just a channel. I am myself an instrument. I'm thankful for the gift and the opportunity to share it, but I won't take credit for it.

I'd be remiss not to say that Jonathan wrote these answers back to me within five minutes of me e-mailing him the questions. They were not composed or edited, but were reflected upon deeply before their writing, albeit in a very short time and are excerpted in their entirety verbatim the way they came to me- from an honest, immediate place- from whence the music contained herein originates as well. Jonathan has his toes dipped in the pools of bop, funk, avant-garde, jungle, noise-as-music, acid rock, blues, and ECMatosphericjazzcursions. For this current set he could have written tunes in the form of jazz standards, fusion shuffles, or any number of styles; with heads, bridges, turnarounds, verses, choruses and endings, and recorded them and issued them as he has done in the past. Instead, he opted to get select like-minded friends together for a couple of nights in the studio (June 14 & 15 1999) with no tunes written down, and come out on the other end having done all the studio work himself including mastering, with nothing less than a double-disc instrumental concept record. He will put it out there, make it downloadable, press some copies (which will undoubtedly be underpriced to comparable material) and very likely give it to whomsoever shows some interest, or at least asks nice. Yeah, Jonathan's been very charitable with the song giveaways. If I deliver no other message in these liner notes than this however, they will be worthwhile: Listening to a tune here or there off of this two disc recording will not give an adequate picture of what is accomplished by the recording effort. It should be digested as a whole.

With this collection we've got essentially two bands: one comprised of guitar, bass, drums, and percussion; the second: guitar, keyboards, bass and drums. All of the first band was recorded the first night and all of the second the following evening at Peter Karl Studio, then called Fifth House in Brooklyn. Of this recording effort Jonathan says: I produced the disc and mixed all but four tunes; those four, Peter and I mixed together. We both mastered the discs. Peter's got such great ears and musical insight, as well as incredible engineering chops. Ask anyone who has recorded with me- he's as fast as lightning. The sound that you hear on the mastered discs is essentially what's on the source tapes. Of course we EQd the tracks, but we didn't have to make things sound other than how they were recorded. We didn't have to mix around bad sounds. In other words, we didn't have to make an airless, cardboard kick drum sound like a beautiful, big, spacious cavern. We just sweetened the sounds. I mean, that's what you're supposed to do in the mix anyway, sweeten the sounds, right? What I said about lightning fast: as soon as we were ready to play, Peter had all the sounds ready. Just like you hear them! No hitting a snare or kick drum for half an hour. He literally was ready to roll tape the minute Andy had the drums set up!

So what's it sound like? Well you've already got the dang thing, so you probably already know, but indulge me. . . .

Dark of course, kicks off the proceedings in spare fashion with Townes soloing- no, let's call it creating a melody- over electric piano swells, a whole note bassline and cymbals. Alex Lacamoire interjects ultra-tasteful bluesy comping on electric piano that turns into a solo turn full of tiers of harmony and space, while Jonathan scrapes metallic beneath. As guitar returns as the lead voice, the harmony remains dark as Lacamoire manages to squirt in sweet chords over the top. A skittering series of guitar phrases takes the tune to its end and Turtle Shell, just a great little funk skirmish, kicks in. . bada. . bada. . badadoobop. . badapdap. . uhhh! And yes, right there, they've gotcha! Sadownick locks in his tambourine with Sanesi's kick and Foutain's bassline- and you're up outta whatever chair you were in before you even catch the subtlety of what's gotten you there. See, that's Neal comping the chords on bass and Jonathan wackin' the bassline on guitar. Tricky! And really only fully discernible when Neal finishes up his restrained wicked little funk solo and picks up exactly the bassline so that Jonathan can do his brand of acid-funk riffing; deploying two very distinct tones along the way. Jonathan's solo is liquid sounding without being cluttered with too many notes and has a relaxed, behind the beat quality to it that propulses the tune forward. In an unexpected move, Jonathan starts the bassline up again letting Neal play chordal accents in different spots, giving him another crack at a longer, seriously phonky solo. The listener can feel for themselves how naturally and effortlessly Neal is tossing this stuff off- like a lead guitarist in a R&B band, where he did so much time as only a handful of bassists could. When Neal comes back in with the chords, it's with his trademark B-3 tone as the tune fades.

Sphere of the Final kicks the pulse down a few notches with a tune that is basically a swaying arpeggiation that transitions into sad, single-note folk ballad improvisation by Townes over very spare bass and drums. Time picks us back up again with Sadownick's congas and Townes' bullfighter-funk scratch rhythm guitar. Fountain's bassline comes in seemingly pulling the cape up for the band to come through, but the bull unexpectedly retreats to a minimalistic percussion landscape where tonal painting is encouraged. The experimentation continues until Fountain decides to arpeggiate some spanish chords, malaguena-style, over the spatial backdrop and lets the tune cease to exist. StarMusic gives us a couple of minutes of sound shaping and scraping, as a slow sinister bassline takes hold, giving way to a clean toned improvised melody that features some open strings in combo with fretted notes; giving us a hint of the Middle Eastern influence to come in later cuts. Jonathan cuts loose giving himself ample time to develop ideas and fading himself out, probably as another transition is taking place.

Disc two's Thrust features a live bass loop, which for its two second repeating durations manages to incorporate the entire range of Neal's six strings; over which Jonathan voices a playfully raga-ish improvisation, using fuzzed out chordal washes as pedal off of which to play. At the four minute mark it leaves us wanting for more as it transitions nicely into something else, which fades, transitioning even more nicely into perhaps the set's most comfortable progression to the ears- a bluesy funk thing featuring Neal on B-3 bass. Think lots-o-Blue-n-Green smoke (you get the vibe without dropping any trademark names) only with sustained guitar. About two minutes in you realize Jonathan has been improvising/soloing the whole time- which indicates the level of melodicism he's got going. It picks up a bit in intensity in the real solo section, but there's a seamless handoff in its middle when Jonathan takes over the funky bassline and yields to Fountain's lyrical mastery. Literally, the only distinguishing features between the bass guitar and guitar solos, in terms of the interchaging solo and support roles, is the shift in tones. If anything, Neal plays more notes than Townes when he solos and Townes plays fewer notes than Neal does when playing bass lines. After his solo turn, Neal gives it back to Jonathan, who adds a doubler to his voice, while the groove gets harder abetted by Sadownick's conga groove over Sanesi's steady phonk. At the 8:30 mark, three notes of Townes' solo are arppegiated and harmonicized, and the funk riff goes atmospheric with Sadownick tastefully employing his percussion arsenal. It shifts into a reggae percussion beat, but the kind of airy (perhaps this is why the title is Vapor Trailor) sounding groove Steve Khan, Anthony Jackson and Steve Jordan did so well in their Eyewitness period. It ends with a mainstream jazz section, whereby Neal tastefully displays his incredible walking chops while Townes shows us how effective his brand of sustainable minimalism can be- capping a 15 minute melodic, improvisational, rhythmically shifting gem.

Upon hearing North Sea is where I came to the edge of my chair as I digested this offering. I know Jonathan is truthful, so he's not lying when he said that this set was in reality improvised, but this tune sounds as if it must have been composed. It sounds as if the composer was armed with a grant from some Scandinavian Arts Council chartering him to make tribute to the epic tapestries of the ECM label without somehow contriving a great ripoff. It's accomplished here- tres Terje. Alex Lacamoire's contribution here on keyboards and sustaining electric piano is invaluable, while Jonathan's tone at the end hints of the acid space experiments of a bygone American tradition.

Little Leslie ornaments a funk riff with the soundtrack of a Moroccan market- giving the song a palpable sense of acceleration. Run Leslie Run! This begins the motif of the ending tunes, which go in an Eastern direction. On The Caterpillar's Opium Pipe Townes starts off with a bit of a fuzz-muted raga motif and Fountain is given ample space to solo in a Middle Eastern vein, over what is basically a drone provided by Townes and a pulse provided by Sanesi. Neal employs open strings, double stops, and octaves which in particular are voiced with a clarity of tone and harmonic tastefulness I have yet to hear from another bass player. At the four and a half minute mark the tune propulses forward into a sprint through the desert, over which Jonathan employs legato lines and two and three note chords for decorative shards of harmony. There is a brilliant moment near the end of the tune during Jonathan's solo, where Neal starts laying down three note chords over his own bass line, and a theme emerges where the solo takes a different tack- Jonathan does not stop playing, but pauses- you can feel it- his refusal to go in the conventional direction becomes corporeal to the listener- and plays notes with phrasing that are real stretches, as delightfully out as you can go without being just, for lack of a better word, mistakes. It's brilliant because it's a demonstration of commitment- musical commitment- to doing something different, to doing something true- to putting the map away or throwing it out the window and finding a new destination!

The vibe of Visnu could not end this collection better, beginning with a relaxed Indian intensity that burns ever more searingly incandescent as it goes on. Neal solos over a bed of sitar drones and higher sustained violin like counterpoint, with the song's suspension provided on organ and electric piano by Lacamoire. Neal is basically the lead voice for no less than the song's first 11 minutes, whereupon Lacamoire is given latitude to fully explore electric piano over what sounds like an organ drone beneath, punctuated by Townes' deep metallic creeking that grows more dominant and ends the record against a silence.

So, what's next for Jonathan? Electronic music. I've always worked with synthesizers. I've begun using a guitar synth and am getting back on track. Like my contemporaries and peers, I grew up in the Rock era, not the Swing era. What I know about is 4/4, Switched on Bach, and Tron. I own two computers and have been programming since the early eighties. My world is electric. It's electronic. I understand bop and swing. I can hear it. I can even play over changes. I'm not the best at it and only because I'm only able to attune myself to the world as it is now. I wasn't born fifty years ago, so anything I produce is going to be influenced by the new world. Besides, I love science fiction and music to me is science fiction's highest expression, but in a very real and tangible way.

So something's coming, probably some science-fictional drum 'n' bass tale with improvisatory mayhem on top or bubbling from the bottom up. I'll say only this, keep a watchful eye out for something even more far out- music conceptualized, yet not written, to the point of fashioning its own terminology-laden novella. The words Utsahatsa and Nelgus have been mentioned. Actually, he's already working on it. I heard he's got some studio time booked this week- with his head down, committed, rolling on to the next project. And remember, This is Secret Music!

- Phil DiPietro [ November 2000, Boston ]