By Joe Doherty:
For most people, the concert experience is a brief release from the tedium of daily life. But for those of us who approach live music with religious zeal, it can open a portal to the Godhead.
Any ardent fan of improvised music has experienced this sensation, at some point. As have its creators. “I think music that’s meant to communicate something deeper is essential, and it can be spiritual or healing,” John Medeski tells me during a phone interview. He pauses. “It’s impossible to put into words, which is why we put it into music. Music is the language which communicates it all.”
Medeski should know. His main gig–the virtuosic keyboardist of Medeski, Martin and Wood–is a nightly experiment in group-mind improvisation. One of his earliest musical passions, jazz, is kith and kin to this style of playing. Medeski and the rhythm section of Billy Martin, percussion, and bassist Chris Wood fuse freewheeling jazz with funk and hip-hop grooves. The improvised sections a kind of musical stream-of-consciousness.
“There’s something that happens when the music is truly for the moment, in the moment, and everything is syncing up–the musicians are in the groove and the listener is in the right place,” Medeski says. “It creates this cathartic experience that nothing else can duplicate. That’s what we wait for and look for.”
This musician-audience symbiosis doesn’t happen every night. Both parties must be open-minded–and patient. “You hear runners talk about it,” Medeski says. “It takes a little bit before you get into that space where you have that runner’s high and you could just go forever.” Aldous Huxley articulated a similar idea in his classic psychedelic essay, The Doors of Perception. The desire to transcend reality–to find our own runner’s high–is an innate human need. To be carried out of ourselves in such a way is a religious experience, indeed.
It’s fitting then that, on Tuesday, MMW will play Asbury Hall, a beautifully remodeled room inside The Church. It is a surreal setting for live music. “The room affects the mood incredibly,” Medeski says. “Smaller space is better. It’s easier to connect. It’s easier for people not to be distracted by the social aspect of what they’re doing because they’re closer to the energy.” To wit: in some circles, MMW’s scorching performance inside the intimate Mary Seaton Room in 2003 is still talked about in reverent tones.
The mood will vary each night–but so will the music. Such is the essence of jazz. “It’s an advanced language designed for improvising,” Medeski says. “Every night feels different because it has to do with what’s going on in the world, in our lives, and we adjust to the vibe of the moment.”