The Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey played two nights this week at The White Rabbit in Fremont. After watching the band sound check and rehearse a few numbers on the first night, I was able to sit down for a little while with Chris Combs, the lap steel player. He is the composer of the band’s current release, The Race Riot Suite. The suite is a concept album about the Tulsa race riots of 1921. It’s a subject of special significance to Combs and the rest of the band, as Tulsa is their hometown. It’s something that isn’t well known, even though it was the largest race riot in America’s history. As a tribute, Combs wrote a powerful piece of music fraught with sorrow, anger, and a relentless sense of hope. The finished album is well-deserving of it’s ubiquitous praise, and Seattle was lucky to have them in town for two shows.

Tom Mohrman: An ambitious concept album like The Race Riot Suite kind of flies in the face of the single track download. Has that been an issue with selling it online?

Chris Combs: It’s a long form piece. Conceptually it’s a single piece of music. But then each of the tracks have their own universe. So if somebody wants to buy one track, hopefully it still makes sense by itself. In this market the Suite kind of sticks out because it’s a big, epic piece of work.

TM: Knowing the inspiration of the album gives it a lot of extra depth when you listen to it. Have you gotten any feedback from people who have listened to it and then went an investigated the Tulsa riots?

CC: It seems like it. We’ve had a lot of people that have come up to the merchandise table after the show, and been like “I’ve never, ever heard anything about this.” It’s crazy. Like when we played in Kansas city, which is our bassist’s hometown, a lot of people we talked to after the show had been researching it, and said they were reading about it while they were listening to it. Being tied to a real event like that, it forces us to play at a higher level because we kind of have to ground ourselves. It’s really inspiring to see people turned on to go find out about it.

TM: Did you think of it as a political act, making the album?

CC: Not explicitly. We were all aware of the political implications, but it came from a very honest place. It came about for me, from reading and doing research. Some of my favorite musicians- like Mingus was very political. Jazz has always been, even from the beginning. A lot of this is coming from that lineage, that vocabulary.

I was in attendance for the second show, on Friday 9/23. The opening act was Das Vibenbass. Watching them play always makes me want to dust off my Cal Tjader records. Their music is full of overtones. When the vibe player pumps the sustain pedal, it’s like pumping the billows of a furnace. The keys of his vibes move up and down like his instrument is a living thing, with lungs. They set the tone. Tonight was to be all about great jazz in a hot small room.

When JFJO took the stage after them, they raised the bar a good deal higher. Tonight they played the entire Suite, with all of the pathos and energy that it demanded of them. There were small moments and huge wailing moments. At times it stood right on the ledge of chaos but they were always in complete control. Watching Brian Haas play his Rhodes at times reminded me of the title to one of my favorite Bukowski books, Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit. Haas has the skill and grace of a man who’s been leading this group for nearly two decades. He calls out the changes with decisive shouts. He plays with guts and madness and beauty, as do the sax players, the bassist, the drummer, and Combs on his crying lap steel. 

During the last part of the set a friend of mine grabbed me by the elbow and told me that I needed to go next door to The High Dive to check out the band performing. She’s not in the habit of leading me astray, so I conceded. At The High Dive there was an alt country band performing called Hillstomp. It’s two people. One on Banjo, and one playing buckets. That’s right, buckets.  Between the two of them they were making a huge amount of music that was really, really good. The place was packed, and the crowd was moving to the music and giving the band all the love they could take.

As I was watching them perform it struck me that here in two adjacent clubs in Fremont, two of the most pure American forms of music were being performed. Jazz in one, and country in the other. In both places the music was performed with passion, and abandon, with people packed into small sweaty rooms to hear it, and see it. It was everything anyone could ask for on a Friday night of music in Seattle. Tonight the gods of live performance were smiling.