Live and Local: Dirk Quinn Trio

Fusion is a word that gets thrown around a lot. And one thing I can say for sure is that it can go either way.

It’s not a new word. I remember the first time I went to a “fusion” restaurant. It was 1993, and I was on a first date with a social worker who was deciding that social work was not her thing and had gone back to night school at the University of New Haven for philosophy. She was telling me that (after three days of classes) she had decided she was probably an existentialist (I chuckled at the phrasing “probably an existentialist…” it struck me like saying “its possible I’m something of an absolutist”, but I kept that to myself. You can’t really let your inner asshole come out and tango in the moonlight on the first date).

So this was killing me, but I was young and she was a redhead, so I was trying my best to surf along when she then told me she was pretty sure Kierkegaard was actually an atheist, which caused me to look down at my plate at this fusion restaurant, to find (I shit you not)  cajun enchilada spring rolls.

All of this certainly led me to question the value and reality of my very resistance.

But, then, on the plus side, there was the latter period of the career of Miles Davis. The story goes that he was at the Newport Jazz festival and they had Sly and the Family Stone playing, and the crowd was losing their minds…much bigger crowd, much more mind losing than had happened at his set.

It dawned on him that these people – who, by his standards, knew essentially nothing about music – were so engaging and the crowd was so receptive, that he determined to go into that idiom himself. So he put together a type of music that came to be called fusion.

Now, the case could be made that there were varying results. But it’s hard not to agree that “Bitches Brew” is one of the greatest pop albums.

Usually in music, when people talk about “fusion”, they’re talking about jazz and rock fused together, usually by musicians with jazz backgrounds. Sometimes it’s really complicated and progressive stuff that’s challenging in a good way to the audience and shows off some brilliant arrangements and incredible musicianship. Other times, it’s a more specific thing, like “Jazz is Dead” where some brilliant jazz musicians reimagined Grateful Dead songs, much to all of our benefit. And, lastly, it can be a soul sucking, vapid thing to be found in chiropractor’s waiting rooms.

I tell you all of this not just to lament my dating life of define a musical term, but because the Dirk Quinn Trio came back to Ploughman last weekend.

I don’t know if Dirk would put himself in the group of “fusion” per se. Some people think Jazz Fusion refers to a specific type and genre of music. I think that’s bullshit. I think if you play jazz well (and Dirk certainly does), and you incorporate funk and rock and blues and show tunes into your set, I’m calling you fusion.

Side note: It occurs to me that there were some…well, shitty bands and acts in the 70s that came through and burnished their musical chops by referring to their boring airy elevator crap as “fusion”. That’s emphatically NOT what I’m talking about here. Dirk Quinn is not John Tesch. Or Yanni.

I’ve seen Dirk play as a trio a few times now, and I’m always amazed at his talent and musicianship. He plays guitar incredibly well, but even that’s the least of it. The way his arrangements are complex and relaxed at the same time, and how he can take something like the cantina song from Star Wars and make it interesting and engaging without making you roll your eyes is incredible.

The trio has consisted of himself, a bass, and a drummer every time I’ve seen him. There’s a comfort and relaxed air that the truly skilled and talented musicians always bring with them. His group is tight and they work with the material, which ranges from jazz arrangements to movie themes, classic rock like some Beatles and Pink Floyd, and this is also no boring coffee shop jazz trio for people to sip macha and stare at pictures of lord byron to.

They can swing. Dirk is a vastly knowledgeable virtuoso guitarist who can and will rock the room when it suits him. I’d be intrigued to see him throw down with a blues guitarist (and I know of one who’s around and can no doubt throw down if she wanted to…just sayin), maybe bust out “hellhound on my Trail” then slide right into a guitar arrangement of Take 5.

A man can dream. He can stare down at a spicy curry lasagna, think about all of his life choices, and he can dream.

Dirk’s music is available online, and strongly encourage you to check it out where you normally consume music…but I highly recommend you try your best to see the trio live when you can. You won’t be sorry.