Kulchur

Frank Consola, host of the morning jazz show on WDNA-FM (88.9) was a bit miffed at the implication in Kulchur that there’s pressure from station management to avoid pushing the programming envelope. He insists any parameters on his playlists are strictly self-imposed. “I’ve got free rein here,” Consola says of his program, which airs weekdays from 7:00 to 11:00 a.m. “I only have one rule: No Kenny G. I play Cecil Taylor, I play Henry Threadgill, guys that nobody else at WDNA even touches. But if I’m going to do four hours in the morning, I can’t play too much free jazz. Steve Malagodi’s program on WLRN [Saturday’s evening’s The Modern School of Modern Jazz] is great because he’s on at midnight. But if I did that kind of program in the morning, it would scare off the audience.”

Still Consola’s heart lies with those seeking to expand the tradition. Accordingly he celebrated the birthday of the late jazz pioneer Sun Ra with a special tribute program on Friday, May 21. “I saw Sun Ra in person about 50 times over 30 years,” the 52-year-old DJ recalls. “It was always an experience, like going to a Sixties be-in. He combined music, a light show, dancers, and African rhythms.” Such an approach seems necessary, though. If, as Ra claimed, he was actually from the planet Saturn, shouldn’t his music be otherworldly as well? Thus the pianist assembled a sprawling ensemble that combined elements of big-band swing, African grooves, outside riffs, and the circus.

Sun Ra’s Miami gigs at the Cameo Theatre and Tobacco Road in the Eighties were memorable, but for Consola, nothing topped one evening in the early Seventies at New York City’s Carnegie Hall. “It was 2:00 a.m. and they were flashing the lights, but Sun Ra didn’t want to leave the stage: He was in the middle of a piece. So as they were turning the lights on and unplugging the sound system, all the musicians walked out to the street. Can you imagine being in the middle of Broadway, where people are wearing suits and coattails, and seeing all these strange guys wearing bathing caps, Egyptian robes, and space uniforms, playing their instruments in the street? They finished the concert right out on Broadway. That’s typical Sun Ra.”

If you’re looking for a good place to jump into Ra’s voluminous, five-decade-spanning discography, try the newly released Outer Space Employment Agency (Total Energy), which captures the band during one of its creative peaks, live at the 1973 Ann Arbor Blues & Jazz Festival. Beyond its pure musical delights, however, the recording shows why Sun Ra remains an inspiration to cultural radicals everywhere.

The 1973 concert was put together by Detroit activist John Sinclair (currently raising hell in New Orleans), famed for his chairmanship of the White Panther Party, which attempted to fuse the libertarian spirit of the Sixties counterculture with the teachings of Che Guevara. It was a philosophy best expressed in the party’s 1969 slogan (uttered only partially tongue-in-cheek): “Revolution, dope, and fucking in the street.”

Sun Ra may not have entirely shared Sinclair’s Marxist convictions, but he was a frequent performer at White Panther-sponsored concerts. Moreover his contempt for the aesthetics of the status quo is evident in every note his fifteen-member Intergalactic Arkestra performed that day in ’73. The opening salvos of “Discipline 99” clear the air with a burst of honking horns and squealing keyboards. In the audience you can hear alternating peals of delight, cries of disgust, and several hippies that seem just plain freaked out. From there the band weaves its way through an eerie waltz, a thrilling percussion battle, some starkly beautiful horn soloing, and finally, impassioned chanting carried aloft by lilting saxes.

“Why do you want to limit yourself to one small planet?” the band cries out to a hail of applause. “Don’t you want to go to Mars? Don’t you want to go to Saturn? Do the impossible! Give up your life! Give up your death! Sign up now — space is the place!”

It’s a surreal climax, but one would expect nothing less from the only band to have ever shared a stage with Thelonious Monk, Hound Dog Taylor, and Sonic Youth. Now if only Miami had a radio station that played all of those artists as well.

Many avant-garde outfits aim for an air of danger in their music, but thanks to a fire-juggler still in need of practice, Out Dance’s performances are genuinely life-threatening. At a recent show at Power Studios, as Out Dance bore down into a hypnotic Afro-Cuban groove, the band’s unofficial sixth member stalked the front of the stage, whipping flaming torches around his head. The effect was mesmerizing, and even after the torches flew into the audience — not once, but twice — people still crowded forward. “I’ve spoken to Tim about this,” laughs the band’s Tom Korba about the juggler-in-question’s skills. “I’ve told him, ‘You can’t be killing off our audience!'”

Beyond the pyrotechnics the band’s appeal also lies in a full-throttled psychedelic backwash, with a squealing wah-wah guitar, and Korba’s shimmering runs on an obscure, oblong instrument called a chapman stick. Out Dance returns to Power Studios this Friday, May 28. Don’t wear polyester.

Another good reason to stay in town for Memorial Day weekend: Nil Lara plays Power Studios on Saturday, May 29.

— Brett Sokol

Send your music news, local releases, and general gunk to Brett Sokol at 2800 Biscayne Blvd, Miami, FL 33137. Fax to 305-571-7678 or e-mail brett_sokol@miaminewtimes.com