Skerik was there. That’s usually a good sign…

But the totality of this write up could simply be given over to the history of each of the players that made up Bill Frisell’s group on Tuesday evening. Obviously, Frisell himself has worked with basically the entirety of the ECM label in addition to his more recent works with Ron Carter. Violinist Eyvind Kang has put in time with John Zorn and the Sun City Girls while Steve Moore has played with Earth as well as sunnO))).

None of those associations could aptly prepare a concert-goer for the music revealed this past evening. The trio entered from the right to a silent room in which Frisell quietly introduced his cohort, not mentioning himself. He and Moore had a seat while Kang, whose violin added an occasional element of classical music to what followed, hovered around a stool behind a music stand.

There has been much written about the tone that Frisell evokes from a simple amp, his guitar and a few pedals. Each of these assessments, delving into the importance of texture as opposed to forcing as many notes as possible into a space (ala Coryell or McLaughlin) postulate Frisell’s intrepid guitar playing. There is no counter argument. But listening to one of the most celebrated contemporary jazz musicians summoned the experimentalism of a man oft associated with country music – Les Paul.

Paul basically created reverb, delay and an assortment of other recording techniques utilized today and taken for granted. But the concept of tone that so frequently dogs any discussion of Frisell serves to further strengthen his link to not just jazz, but all musics. When looping a guitar line and increasing the tempo, it seemed as if Frisell did so almost in deference to Paul, who in his recordings frequently sounded as if he in-fact was playing against another guitarist – it was just the delayed effect of his reverb and the recording environment.

What Frisell displayed Tuesday evening began with a serpentine Ennio Morricone inspired melody accented by Kang and Moore to the point where Clint Eastwood’s sneer was quite nearly visible. In any performance, judging by his recorded output, Frisell could have jumped from style to style, but this evening each composition had a dusty, long-time-on-the-trail feel to it. The interludes, when the overt western feel was left behind, found the trio summoning miniature orchestras and it seemed as if the crowd was at the very least appreciative.

Although reluctant to greet the players with a round of applause as they entered, the audience deemed a standing ovation an appropriate way in which to end the evening – it was.