Donny McCaslin @ the Exchange, North Shields - Oct. 26.

Donny McCaslin (tenor sax); Jason Lindner (keyboards); Tim Lefebvre (bass); Zach Danziger (drums)

Another new venue for me and easily found despite the sat nav suggesting a sneaky flit past a couple of No Entry signs. In honour of McCaslin’s contributions to David Bowie’s final album, Blackstar, I’m wearing my Paul Smith designer ‘Blackstar’ T-shirt. And my Paul Smith designer uncs. And my Paul Smith designer socks with the signature stripe. Your correspondent is one groovy mummy kisser. When I get there at least three others are wearing the same T-shirt. It’s like the time I went to a garden party at Buckingham Palace and there was another bloke wearing the same crown.

Of course the big question is, why McCaslin is here at all? North Shields is an unlikely stopover on a two date UK tour that had him at some place in Soho last night and nowhere else in the country. Is someone in Shields holding incriminating footage of Donny dancing to the Birdy Song like he loves it? In any case, it’s good to see and I suspect that the Bowie connection has brought a lot of people in, though how long they’ll stay for is another matter (about a quarter would leave during the gig).

The opening piece starts with a deep, bass-throbbing wash from Lindner’s keys and plaintiff echoing wails from McCaslin. A spare rhythm creeps in and a groove rises out of the murk. It’s loud, themeless and formless, linear. The band takes sides with the sheer black weight of the rhythm section on one side and the escapology of the sax on the other, blowing over the top. 

The second piece is more subdued, pastoral, though with an edge as if it’s post-industrial rather than natural. McCaslin blows long lines before an aural explosion that has the sax straining for the highest notes. A brief melancholy passage is undermined by a threatening bass line that presages more fury. Prog keyboards underpinned by fractured drumming settles into a heavy metal groove before McCaslin takes us back into the blues, playing circular repeated motifs punctured by more furious squalls of briefer notes.

The third piece is dedicated to Kamala Harris to a cheer from the crowd. A soulful blues opens with a free flowing bass solo and a gentle wash from the keys. The tone is of hope and optimism, with an underlying hint of desperation. Mallet work from Danziger and some deep bombs support a sax solo of loooong notes. Behind the band the screen shows towering, vertigo-inducing psychedelic flowers.

Item 4 on the agenda opens with a tsunami of overwhelming noise which, along with the brightness of the colours of the backdrop overwhelms all the senses in a way I haven’t experienced since I saw Primal Scream years ago. Four square rock and roll is funked up by McCaslin’s sax solo, punching and probing and soaring to the highest notes. It’s jazz punk that owes more to the likes of Television and the Velvet Underground than anything with jazz roots. A keyboard and drums duet suggests what Yes would sound like with Rat Scabies as their drummer. McCaslin injects some bluesy melancholy but at a very high volume.

Kid (?) opens with a concrete heavy reggae lilt with thumping drums; McCaslin unleashes an aggressive, stabbing solo. Sax as a form of attack. Everything is turned up louder than everything else. It’s claustrophobic with no air for the music to breathe as the keyboards fill every available space. 

Eyes Down opens with a drum solo that develops into a boots on the ground metronomic stomp, a driving bulldozing beat that an insidious sax line creeps up proffering more desperate wailing and sonic swirls like a trapped animal. Brief flurries of shorter notes punctuate the longer bellows rising in force and desperation with each pass. It’s all force and energy but there is mighty skill on display here realised as the drums drop out and suddenly there is space and some relief; the audacity in the perfect timing as they crash back in.

They close with Lazarus from Bowie’s Blackstar album, on which three of those on stage appeared. A sprung bass line is driven by blockwork drumming; a delicate swirling sax solo is a gentle ballet as the keys add colour and lightness of tone. McCaslin blows long lines as the noise builds up behind him; he digs and digs in his solo then screams into the upper reaches. Everything breaks down through an apocalyptic storm to the close.

There’s a lot to unpack at a Donny McCaslin gig. At times it suggested a vision of the future of jazz and at others it reminded me of Polar Bear, Acoustic Ladyland and the rest of the F-IRE Collective who were also the future once. There’s more rock in there than there is at a usual jazz gig and what is there leans more to heavy metal and punk than to prog. Groups such as Television, the Velvet Underground and Joy Division are all in the mix but these are young guys and that may have well been their scene growing up. It is forceful and unignorable but, clearly, not for everyone. Dave Sayer