Jemeel Moondoc

The 63 year old Chicago born saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc has been keeping the faith in a post- free- jazz mindset for many years, working with bassist William Parker and others on the adventuresome avant-garde fringes. He continues his progression with the Zoo Keeper's House, the first album under his name since two live albums in 2003 - Live In Paris and Jus Grew Orchestra: Live At The Vision Festival. The new five-track set, with different groupings and musical angles, captures a distinctly live vibrancy and in-the-moment vulnerability in the studio.

On the opening, title track, Moondoc is joined by sensitive foil Matthew Shipp on piano, bassist Hilliard Green, and drummer Newman Taylor Baker, laying out the rumbling ruminations for Moondoc's six note, Albert Ayler-esgue theme, played with brittle fervor, by the saxophonist. Structure yields to abandon and Moondoc's toothy, sharp-toned burst, angular fragments and sense of space alight, with the empathetic help from his allies. On "Little Blue Elvira," a kind of ambling slop-happy horn trio - with trumpeter Roy Campbell Jr. (who died a few months after this session, and to whom the album is dedicated) and trombonist Steve Swell joining the leader in unison - conjuring up a Mingus vibe.

Loose essences of Coltrane (or the Coltranes) are worked into the album's fabric with Alice Coltrane's "Ptah, The El Daoud," another chord-less setting with Swell and Campbell, and the aptly named "One For Monk & Trane." "For the Love Of Cindy," with only drums, bass and the saxophonist,s poetically embracing space, ends the album on an airy note, with a bitter sweet ambience vaguely redolent of Ornette Coleman's " Lonely Woman," but less lonely. With The Zookeeper's House, Moondoc returns - and continues - a bit deeper and wiser.   - Josef Woodard   - DOWNBEAT October 2014

The Zookeeper's House: The Zookeeper's House, Little Blue Elvira; Ptah, The El Daoud, One For Monk & Trane, For The Love Of Cindy. (50:43)  Recorded  October 16, 2013
Personnel: Jemeel Moondoc, alto saxophone; Matthew Shipp, piano; Roy Campbell Jr., trumpet; Steve Swell, Trombone; Hilliard Green, bass; Newman Taylor Baker, drums
Ordering Info:
Jemeel Moondoc - Connie Crothers
Pianist Connie Crothers is well-versed in the art of the improvised duo. From pairings with fellow Tristano-leaning saxophonists Lenny Popkin and Richard Tabnik to more recent conclaves with bassist Michael Bisio and pianist David Arner, strong and fertile conversations form a good chunk of her discography past and present. Altoist Jemeel Moondoc is less accustomed to the format on record, although dialogues with bassist William Parker and dearly-departed drummer Denis Charles are cornerstones of his own catalog. The majority of his past records have dispensed with piano, as well. That last point is perhaps what makes Two most immediately appealing as an extended opportunity to hear him in close collaboration with a keyboardist of the caliber of Crothers. The cohesiveness of the music also points swiftly to another revelation: Moondoc and Crothers are good friends and have been playing together for many years, proof again that a musicians‟ recorded output is usually simply the iceberg tip of their overall activity.

The bulk of the program finds the two players engaging in off-the-cuff improvisations, but they also find space for investigations of a piece apiece from their own songbooks. “You Let Me In to Your Life” is perhaps Moondoc‟s crowning achievement as a composer, utterly disarming in its relative simplicity and captivating in its ability to balance and convey the mix of joy, awe and trepidation that attends nearly every nascent romance. In other words, ballads don‟t get much more memorable or affecting. Crothers embraces the delicate, though highly resilient, theme with enthusiasm and the two spend nearly a dozen minutes devising a stream of lushly realized variations and detours that are by turns rhapsodic and romantic. Moondoc‟s past versions of the piece (cf. Revolt of the Negro Lawn Jockeys and New World Pygmies, Vol. 2) are classics and this one very nearly hits par. Crothers‟s “Deep Friendship” doesn‟t carry quite the punch as a composition, but still yields comparably deep results, particularly in its closing minutes when Moondoc plays some his most unadorned alto lines of the session.
The six other improvised pieces vary in focus and demeanor, making the most of the acoustics of the loft studio space and the close mic‟ing of the respective instruments. Crothers works the pedals rigorously, building bright effusive swells and barrages that ricochet off the walls and sometimes border on piercingly strident. Moondoc‟s signature cry, a vernacular that ranges from dry, piquant squawks to soulful melodic runs with loamy roots in vintage Ornette, is on full display. Even on the various occasions when the duo breaks shared stride, the lulls in communication are only fleeting and the collective momentum quickly righted.

The chief takeaway from this intimate series of duets is that Crothers and Moondoc are kindred sentimental souls, though not the sort who traffic in cheap musical melodrama or surface sensitivity for the sake of personal aggrandizement. The emotional reach in their interactions is real and often raw, and made all the more so thanks to the absence of other instrumentsDerek Taylor - Dusted Magazine 1/23/13

Jemeel Moondoc (alto saxophone) and Connie Crothers (piano) have recorded prolifically enough to earn greater recognition, yet their work often falls below the radar. Moondoc began playing in the Loft-era New York, disappearing in the 9-to-5 world until reappering in the 90‟s with a host of albums on the Eremite label. His tone and ide as have been compared to Ornette Coleman‟s, but he now sound like a kindred spirit of the late Jimmy Lyons, with a strong vocabulary delivered in a tone that doesn‟t lose sight of bop. Crothers has been long associated with the legacy of her mentor Lennie Tristano, no holds barred freedom.

Two was recorded at the pianist loft and features six improvisations along with two compositions attributed to Moondoc and to Crothers individually. Jazz duets often get described as “conversations” between the two players, and this session clearly falls into this category. While a topic or two goes on a little too long, the overall discussion sharp points and empathetic support in a nod to his forebears, Moondoc enters on the first track with the three intro from Charlie Parker‟s “Parker‟s Mood”. For further elaboration, his standalone coda on that track almost sounds like a friendly explanation of what will come.

By “Improvisation 4”, the duo is turned into each other so well that the ballard sounds pre-composed. Throughout, the pianist uses various methods to develop the conversation: moving quickly with single-note lines or asending dissonant chords, and low-end rumbling to boost the alto. When she offers some rubato thunder in the last track, it acts as a climatic finale to a fruit-ful heart to heart. Mike Shanley - JAZZ TIMES - 8/8/2013

The pairing of pianist Connie Crothers and saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc holds many paths to possible intrigue. Each of them is capable of East Village outré, ruminating improvisation and spontaneous swing. The one thing unlikely in their meeting is that it be uninteresting.

On TWO they mostly go for the softly introspective, gently following each other while luxuriating in the history of jazz. Six of the eight tracks are improvised and each player contributes a composition. Moondoc‟s “You Let Me Into Your Life” trades on a melody line that could sit aside a Cole Porter ballad without overextending itself. Crothers‟ “Deep Friendship” is a bit more jagged, allowing the pair to roam in peaks and valleys.

The other tracks are untitled, but those two titles are enough. The album is full of expressive playing and bluesy sentiment. It‟s not an upbeat record, not often even mid tempo, but it‟s a deeply felt one, and it stands as one of the better records in either of their catalogs. Kurt Gottschalk – THE SQUID‟S EAR - 8/2/2013

TWO: 1. Improvisation 1,  2. You Let Me Into Your Life, 3. Improvisation 2, 4. Deep Friendship, 5. Improvisation 3, 6. Improvisation 4, 7. Improvisation 5, 8. Improvisation 6.  Recorded: December 22, 2011
Personnel: Jemeel Moondoc, alto sax; Connie Crothers, piano.
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Jemeel Moondoc

Despite the historical importance of 'loft jazz', the full breadth of improvised music occuring in 1970s New York, has yet to be properly assessed. By the time Alan Douglas's Wildflowers collection was issued on Casablanca at the tail end of the 1970s, only a few lofts remain active and the landscape of self-produced concerts and recordings was entering a lull. In the story told by Douglas's collection (recorded at Studio Rivbea, the space owned by Sam and Beatrice Rivers), loft jazz was an aesthetic result of the relocation of Chicago (AACM) and St. Louis (BAG) musicians to New York, with a resulting stylistic amalgam of post-Ayler fire music and spacious compositions of Midwestern black players like Henry Threadgill, Anthony Braxton and Lester Bowie. Bands like the Revolutionary Ensemble (Leroy Jenkins, Jerome Cooper and Sirone) and Arthur Blythe's AACM influenced combos were perfect examples of that. But the reality of this music is a sight more complicated.

Historically, the Lower Manhattan lofts were a product of cheap rents in former industrial districts, large spaces occupied by artist and musicians beginning in the 1960s and continuing untill the rents began to skyrocket in the 1980s. Musicians owned lofts included Charles Tyler's Brook, Rashied  Ali's Ali's Alley, Joe Lee Wilson's Ladies Fort, William S. Fischer's Environ, and Mike Mahaffay's Sunrise Studios. Though "loft jazz" generally refers (and rightly) to black self reliance projects,the contributions of white musicians like Mahaffay, Fischer, Dave Liebman, Richie Beirach and Berry Altschul shouldn't be overlooked. In the booklet included with the alto saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc's Muntu Recordings, writer  Ed Hazell gives a detailed description of this climate. In his essays "A Place to Play What We Want: A Short  History of the New York Lofts" and "Carved Out of the Hard Dark Ebony of Africa: The Story of Jemeel Moondoc and Muntu." Hopefully the materials contained in this set's liners can be expanded into a book length analysis, which is what this period needs.

Jemeel Moondoc is one of a number of musicians too frequently left out of the presentation of creative improvised music. After studies with Cecil Taylor at University of Wisconsin-Madison and Antioch College in Ohio, the Chicago-born and Boston-bred alto saxophonist relocated to New York in 1072. Along with trumpeter Arthur Williams and pianist Mark Hennen, Moondoc was part of a core group of Antioch associates, also including trumpeter Raphe Malik and drummer Sid Smart, who studied and worked with figures like Taylor and Bill Dixon. On first listen to the music of Moondoc's Muntu, it strikes one as being out of the Taylor-Ornette Coleman axis rather than aliening itself with the more poised structures of the AACM-fed New Yorkers. In addition to Hennen and Williams the group featured bassist William Parker and drummer Rashid Bakr (now returned to his birth name Charles Downs). The lineup was flexible: Hennen was only present for the first LP as Muntu was revamped into a piano less quartet with Roy Campbell Jr. taking place of the increasingly ill Williams. When Parker and Bakr were unavailable or, later committed to Cecil Taylor's group, other bassist and drummers sat in. Sometimes Muntu was a trio with Moondoc as the sole lead voice, (as represented on disc three of this set; one apparently undocumented lineup also featured Billy Bang (then with Parker in the Muntu Ensemble). The group's self released two LPs on its Muntu  Label,First Feeding (1977) and The Evening of the Blue Men (1979), along with live recordings on Poljazz, Cadence, and Praxis, before dissolving in 1985, with the exception of the Cadence release, New York Live, none of this material has ever been on CD. 

It's hard not to make a comparison to Taylor's work on First Feeding, especially on the brief title track. At this stage, Hennen is less blocky and more florid is his dusky exploration of cells (by the time of groups like the Collective Quartet and his work with William Hooker, the Cecil-isms would all but disappear). The fat tonal bricks and hot, slow blast of sound that Williams unspools are indebted to Dixon, while comparisons with Silva and Cyrille are apt in the initial rustling interplay of cello and percussion. Once the improvisation begins, however it's clear that Muntu is its own group. Sections of sound climb over each other and soon become a whirlwind dance,  as the rhythms flit and jump in taut angles, Hennen shortening his phrases into
stabs around Bakr and Parker's darting blinks. By the piece's end, there's a folksy revision of the theme  that make the front line sound more Ornette-ish than Jimmy Lyons and Dixon might have preferred.
In 'Flight from the Yellow Dog' (named for Antioch's location, Yellow Springs), the combination of alto acridity and Williams' slightly bent long  tones harks back to Booker Little and Eric Dolphy. Hennen's massive, ringing right hand architecture feeds Moondoc's limber flight, a series of coiled burst of energy, bitter screams and flat burbles. Bakr is angular, tapping and jabbing the skins amid lightly swirling cymbal work, allowing the front line to build most of the heat in front in front of a thin, athletic canvas. After a series of strong solos, the ensuing collective improvisation returns to a Taylor-like approach, tufts of brassy screech and yelps shooting back and forth over pianistic unit-motifs and Parker and Bakr's interlocking whorl.  Moondoc's solo on 'Theme for Milford (Mr Body and Soul)' is a youthful stocktaking of his various influences, Charlie Parker and Eric Dolphy filtered through the lens of Lyons, Ornette and Charles Tyler. With penchant for digging in and repeating phrasal slabs, Moondoc takes laconic bits of blues and assembles them them into a framework of linear movements and harrowing energy just the right side of explosiveness. Williams is steely and darting with sardonic asides of vibrato-heavy growl, crafting a solo of violence, humor and  facility that's one of the most exciting in his scant discography. Hennen follows with a ocean of action, a romantic maelstrom encompassing both ends of the keyboards, and Parker's unaccompanied arco and pizzicato work traces a maddening line of ancestry through Paul Chambers and Henry Grimes. Unheard by all but the most of obsessive connoisseurs of free jazz till now, 'Theme for Milford' is one of the cornerstone performances of 1970s New York Improvisation. 

Muntu's line-up was always flexible, and during the times of unavailability (of  a piano) or of instability (of Arthur Williams), they soldiered as a trio.  A case in point is the 1975 performance of 'Theme for Milford' recorded at Ali's Alley. The theme is rendered with an insistent lilt, a skeletal work-through of curls and trills that in their naked form bolster a cellular affinity to Taylor's work. Moondoc's sweet-and-sour flights, obsessive eddies, blues rondos and spindly elaborations demonstrate what a truly exciting (and underappreciated) soloist he is. Even when his phrases unfurl into cries and acrid squawks, there is an undeniable crispness and warm swing, and Parker's calloused pluck and Bakr's percussive kindling are unrelenting. While Moondoc has occasionally recorded in trios, there is little to compare this performance, save perhaps for 'Live at Fire in the Valley (Eremite, 1996, with John Voigt and Laurence Cook).

The classic Muntu lineup, which also appeared on half of the New York Live as well as The Intrepid (Poljazz, 1981), is represented  in this set by The Evening of the Blue Men, from a concert recording from St, Mark's Church in 1979,  Arthur Williams was out of the group by 1978, and following a European tour with Billy Bang that Hennen did not make. Moondoc restructured Muntu as a quartet with trumpeter Roy Campbell Jr, Compared to First Feeding and the Ali's Alley recording, the rhythm section has markedly increased its weight as well as espousing a post-bop sense of forward motion suggesting Garrison/Jones or a more dangerous Workman/Haynes. On the title piece, Bakr's press rolls and thick cymbal crash might be closest to what  Sinan  sounded like with Muntu, albeit  with a free-bop fleetness. Blue Men combines a ringing, sectional quality suggesting Cecil Taylor with a singsong Ornette vibe. Moondoc is much more fluid in his exhortations, and though his earlier more ragged style is intriguing, such easy confidence is a gas to hear. As he builds into tortured peals and earthly honks, Campbell swoops in with crackling explosions, joining the incision of Clifford Brown and Don Ayler to the joviality of Don Cherry. Coupled to the triple-time bombs of Bakr, the accompanying shouts of other band members are understandable.

'Diane' is a dark ballad with echos of Dolphy's 'Serene' or a Gigi Gryce Jazzlab number, saccharine and elegiac by turns. Moondoc's solo quotes 'Round Midnight' even as he becomes rhythmically free over the tune's loose, sashaying walk. Campbell is clarion, purring and darting before laying into the material with a sense of bravura a la Lee Morgan. Bass and drums saw and hack beneath, leading the improvisation to the,precipice of squall only to return to stately iconography. It's a shame the "The Evening of the Blue Men' received such limited circulation at the time, for it might otherwise have been judged as a modern classic.

Muntu dissolved in the mid-1980s following - ironically - the hiring of Bakr and Parker by Cecil Taylor, and Moondoc and retired for nearly a decade as a result. His return to the scene has been sporadic since the 1990s, though usually with interesting and powerful results. Hopefully the resuscitation of these recordings will pave the way for a more permanent return, as well as restoring him to his place in the history of this music. For anyone wanting a clearer picture of loft jazz, or just some undeniably heavy small-group jazz, the  Muntu Recordings are essential. - CA


Jemeel Moondoc Trio

The diciplined intellegence of this trio of 'free jazz' improvisers should forever shatter the stereotype that 'free' playing is formless meandering. Each of the five lengthy compositions here possesses a tightly logical structure. Points of reference and organizing principles include repeated triplet motifs (in the title tune), the blues (in post modern, deconstructed guises), and Ornette Coleman's sense of song form.

But the thrill of this session is most conveyed through the sheer grandeur of sound: Moondoc's alto sax, all sinewy, liquidy, and angular; John Voigt's highly resonant and probing bass lines; Laurence Cook's freewheeling drum colors. When the forceful beauties of thier sounds combine a suprisingly linear narrative ('Ruby's Riches' is a musical tale of a woman who gradually learns to trust her lover after her heart, and not her weaith), we are presented with an overwhelming emotional drama. This album is a spactacular showcase of players in love with the aesthetic and spiritual adventure of high-level improvisation. Norman Weinstein - THE BOSTON PHOENIX - Arts, Jazz - 4/11/1997

TRI-P-LET: 1. Triplet (5:48), 2. Another One The Hard Way (14:13), 3. Improvisation #61696 (11:34), 4. Campbell's Soup (11:50), 5. Ruby's Riches (11:08)
Personnel: Jemeel Moondoc, alto sax; John Viogt, bass; Laurence Cook, bass
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Muntu Jazz Quartet led by Moondoc

Ensemble Muntu, a jazz quartet led by the alto saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc, has been toiling in New York’s lofts and small clubs for several years now without much critical notice. The group does not fit comfortably into any avant-garde niche. Rather than drawing inspiration from the stylistic break throughs of the Art Ensemble of Chicago and related groups, as so many younger players are doing, the musicians in Ensemble Muntu are at work perfecting the kind of group interplay one heard in Ornette Coleman’s quartets of the early 1960’s.

The quartet was at Ali’s Alley this week — tonight is their last night — sounding strong and assured. Mr. Moondoc was particularly impressive in a set heard earlier in the week. He has evidently learned from Ornette Coleman, but his is a drier sound and his lines tend to be starker, more dramatic. He is an exceptionally lucid melodist and he does not seem to fall into the trap of overextending himself as so many young (and not so young) saxophonists tend to do.

William Parker is a solid bassist with a dark tone and some interesting solo ideas. Rashid Bakr’s drumming is splashy and multidirectional in the style associated with Rashid Ali, and Arthur Williams is a passionate trumpeter with roots in Clifford Brown.

Individually, these musicians are not overwhelming soloists, but together they make some fine music. Each man has his personal version of a close relationship between instrumental phrasing and speech that is at the core of the jazz esthetic, and the quartet’s performances are like good conversations, with each participant contributing his share, listening, and responding. Mr. Moondoc’s compositions are good subjects for these conversations. They are bluesy, concise, and reminiscent of the traditions of Coleman and Thelonious Monk. - Robert Palmer - NEW York TIMES - December 16, 1978
WMUA 91.1 and the Residential Arts Program of the
University of Massachusetts at Amherst
announces it's

11th anniversity season
of the
jazz concert series

and the
Jemeel Moondoc is a musisian of very specific character. Over the years his onorthodoxies have been the source of puzzlement and occasional debate.of some of the music's  moldier critics and more doctrine-bound musicians. Unorthodoxies, in fact, are very much part of the American jazz grain, and Moondoc's are deeply rooted in a knowledge of and profound feeling for his craft.
Moondoc's heavily vocalized sound on alto combines the sharp  edge of Jackie with a gentleness of tone reminiscent of Joe Henderson. He manipulates timber as expressively as Albert Ayler. The vivid animation and emotionalism of his playing again recall Ayler, along with another of Black Music's great unsung exponents, the South African musician Dudu Pukwana. Moondoc's rhythmic concept, delivery, and sense of space are completely unique; his phrases slip and wabble prankishly, forming impossible, oblique shapes while somehow holding a melodic line. Moondoc is a musical Cubist in every way, with an orientation to both the blues and the cosmos that gives everything he plays an old-world, future-world, other-world plurality.

To my ears Moondoc is one of the most singular players in the music, and one of the most eloquent  and communicative storytellers. When  qualities such as integrity and uniqueness of sound are valued  above all else in jazz, as they were in earlier periods of the music and will be again, Moondoc stands among Kings.

Jemeel Moondoc was born in Chicago, 1951. His great great grand-uncle, the original 'Moondoctor', sang and danced, (selling his cure-all moonshine concoction) at medicine shows during the late 1800's. Following high school, Moondoc studied architecture for one year before relocating, first to Boston, where he studied at the New England Conservitory (its neighborhood outreach program) and played in blues and rock bands, and later to the University of Wisconcin and Antioch College, where he played in Cecil Taylor's Black Music Ensemble. After moving to New York City in 1972, he formed Ensemble Muntu, which included William Parker, Mark Hennen, Authur Williams, Rashid Bakr and eventually Roy Campbell Jr. In spite of having no steady performance schedule to support it, the group put in ten hour marathon rehearsalsson an almost daily basis for years. What gigs the band did get came during the late stages of the city's loft era. One night while playing at Ali's Alley, Moondoc and the other musicians in Muntu claim to have levitated above the bandstand and observed themselves playing below.

Before seperating in the early 1980's, Moondoc and Muntu tourd Europe and recarded for labels in Greece, Italy and Poland. Only now, teenty years later, is Muntu's influence on the direction of the American free jazz idiom becoming apparrent. Their records are collector's items, ahd the band,s individual members have established themselves as leading creative forces in the music through a multitude of projects.

One such project is Moondoc's Jus Grew Orchestra, formed shortly after Muntu's demise. Leading Jus Grew became Moondoc's chirf artistic focus for nearly a decfade. Their hellified performances at Lower East Side venues; Neither/Nor,1st on 1st the Nuyoricans Poets Cafe and the Fez gave the band a heavy reputation. But changes in the scene made steady work for the orchestra increasingly diffiicult to find. A shift from big bands playing original and creative music was one more symptom of a burgeoning conservatism in jazz. The Fez btought in a Repertory Band for a residency. An era of elaborate simulation had begun. Coupled with the ongoing lack of record company 'interest' in free music, it seemed that Jus Grew's legacy would never amount to more than an underground legend.

But suddenly the band is ba in business. The ten year lay-off is over, a magnificent tiger is off the endangered species list. The Orchestra is right back where they ought to be: in front of an open minded audience; a month of rehearsals and a gig under thier fingers, ready to loosen the root of death within your head.
Moondoc uses conduction in Jus Grew - meaning conducted improvisation - a methodology attributed to Butch Morris, but practiced widely and disparately by numerous creative musicians. Like improvisation itself, conduction is another way to compose spontaneously; a fertile meeting point between a composer's imagination and the expanded possibilities of a liberated modern orchestra. Like Ellington and Mingus, Moondoc understands that the essence of such an orchestra's strength lies in the individuality opf it's personnel. To this end he has assembled a cast of true jazz messengers, many of whom have been with Jus Grew since the beginning, each with thier own lengthy and distinguished story. Zane Massey, the son of composer Cal Massey, is a heroic voice on tenor saxophone. Joining him in the reed section is Michael Marcus, a wizardly practitioner of stch rare instruments as the stritch, manzello, and the straight tenor, he'll play a lot of baritone tonight. Trombonist Tyron Hill and Steve Swell are both uproarious soloist whose voocalized sounds and expressionist techniques refer to the instruments pre-bebop tradition, while constantly pointing toward the future. The very capable trumpeter Lewis 'Flip' Barnes joins brass man Roy Campbell Jr., a consummate musician who can conjure an orchestral range of sounds from his horns. Guitarist  Bern Nix's long stay in Ornette Coleman's 'Primrtime' m,akes him an excellent choice for the band's chordal instrumentalist; and in the bass chair, John Voigt is that ideal balance of resourdefulness and veteran dependibility. Thye thunder behind the band is drummer Cody Moffett. Moffett's emphasis on tonal color and his total authority  over the drum kit recall the playing of his father, the late Charles Moffitt; and he swings the band so hard your teeth will rattle.

The music of Moondoc and Jus Grew is summoning and an affirmation. As Moondoc wrote on my copy of Muntu's First Feeding years ago, "We put a spell on you - Voodoo to you" If you are already a traveler in the music, you know what he means.

A bright future in a new century to the Jus Grew Orchestra, and to improvisers everywhere. Micheal Ehlers - Eremite Records - from the Magic Triangle Program Pamphlet - Spring 2000

Spirit House: 1. Quick Pick (10:47) 2. Brass Monkeys (9:08) 3. Flora (14:54) 4. Spirit House (26:32) 5, End Game(3:17) 6. In Walked Monk (9:14)

Personnel: Jemeel Moondoc, alto sax - Conduction; Roy Campbell Jr., trumpet - pocket trumpet - flugel horn; Lewis Barnes, trumpet; Zane Massey, tenor sax; Michael Marcus, baritone sax; Steve Swell, trombone; Tyrone Hill, trombone; Bern Nix, guitar; John Voigt, bass; Cody Moffett, drums.
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