Any good musician pushes themselves, forging ahead to the limits of their ability, unsure of how it’ll go or where it’ll end up, but confident it’ll all be cool anyway. Guitarist Miles Okazaki loves doing this – unsurprisingly for a guy who’s worked with Henry Threadgill, Mary Halvorson, and Jon Irabagon. For Boomtown, the second chapter in a trilogy begun with Miniature America and loosely defined by Americana, Okazaki assembles a mini-big band of likeminded souls, gives them song frameworks, and turns ‘em loose.
After a brief guitar ‘n’ horns introduction, Okazaki leads the ensemble into the swirling freeform “Boomtown Girl,” before grooving piano and bass drive “Thermopolis’ into a frenetic whirlwind of blowing and fingering. “Hole In The Wall” starts out tentative, with Anna Webber’s lonely saxophone calling out softly in the distance, but eventually evolves into a dense jungle of horns, rhythm, and guitar. “Bighorn” likewise begins with quiet harmony, before Jon Irabagon’s snarling soprano sax challenges Matt Mitchell’s steady-as-she-goes piano foundation for supremacy, as trombonist Jacob Garchik leads the rest of the horns in solidarity. (For who?) “Ten Sleep” actually follows the big band model, letting the horn section (Webber, Irabagon, saxist Caroline Davis, Garchik, trombonist Kalia Vandever) carry the wistful melody in lush harmony, as Mitchell and bassists Hannah Marks and Chris Tordini add spice. As one might expect from the title, “Devil’s Tower” brings everything crashing down, with drummer Dan Weiss and Okazaki locked in combat as the rest of the band cheers loudly from the sidelines.
All this audio chaos stays within its admittedly lightly drawn boundaries, never crossing over into unrestricted anarchy – a tribute to both Okazaki’s visionary leadership and the ability of the musicians themselves to listen, react, and create in real time. Boomtown is a statement – of intent, of artistic vision, and of a confidence that talent meeting tunes always makes magic happen.
