#john harrison

Jeff Parker ETA IVtet — Tiny Desk Concert

Jeff Parker’s ETA IVtet ( Jay Bellerose, Anna Butterss, and Josh Johnson) have been making records which have been blowing our minds for several years now. Parker’s style of weaving minimal drones and swells with jazz licks that have one foot planted in tradition and one in the future, while somehow staying completely in the present, meshes so seamlessly with Johnson’s playing, it’s hard to tell them apart sometimes in the most delightfully disorienting way. Butterss and Bellerose are an impeccable rhythm section. You could put them behind anyone, and it would be transformative. Nary a bad note or beat on these records. Always something new, endless inspiration, vibes for days. We’re dying to see them live.

Bowery Electric — Beat

John has described this record as “so of a time,” and I couldn't agree more. I grew up in New York City, where they’re from, and their sound is so evocative to me it feels like misty-eyed time travel. I discovered it just a few years ago and shared it with John — instantly obsessed. It was a transitional moment for us as a band, and when we started recording Baltimore, the first idea we worked on was something John started that took intentional cues from Beat, especially the drum machines. The track didn’t make the final cut, but it set a tone for sure. I realized retroactively that I “repurposed” a bassline from one of their tracks for a synth part on one of ours. I’ve said too much already.

Prairiewolf — Live at GLOB, Denver // 4.21.2023

Speaking of taking intentional cues — this record right here. When my daughter was born, my wife and I found the idea of taking our eyes off of her for more than a second or two so inconceivable that we slept in three-hour shifts. (Thankfully, our pediatrician insisted we retire this practice about a week in.) It was during one of these shifts that I sent Mike Mannix an email asking if he might be interested in working with us on our next record. I cited several bands on Centripetal Force’s roster, but highlighted our recent obsession with Prairie Wolf, an obsession that shows up unapologetically on Baltimore. The drum machine on “Untied” was a conscious attempt on my part to emulate theirs. After John sent over his electric piano part for “Cats” I told him that it gave a Prairie Wolf vibes, and he replied with, “one hundred percent.” Such a great record, simultaneously deeply evocative and unlike anything I’ve listened to previously. We are obviously over the moon to get to call them labelmates now. Lovely guys too, hope to get to meet them IRL one of these days.

Orcutt Shelley Miller — Duke Coffeehouse, 3/25/26

If this trio comes through your town, go see them as John and I did. Obviously, this is a proper supergroup and getting to see and hear these big dogs come together in such a beautifully synergetic way was something to behold. Many things were very cool to witness — like Shelley in a room more intimate than I’ve ever seen him play in and Miller on bass — but Orcutt’s interpretation of his own playing was truly special: his licks and riffs veered towards the more traditional (dare I say, bluesy), but his distinct, guitar antihero voice rang through the whole time. Crucial to also note that Duke Coffeehouse, a place with a deep history in the Triangle, is one of the best venues in town. The students who have been running it lately (they also have a great band called Little Chair), have done such a killer job curating and spreading the word, and playing there is a masterclass in hospitality, gratitude, and good vibes. Lucky to have this spot.

Dog Sauce

My father in-law, the son of Lebanese immigrants, grew up in the world of Upstate New York greasy spoons. Hot dogs were his family’s bread and butter and the recipe for his version of the condiment in question — a sort of low-key chili — can be found on a slip of paper that he’s kept folded in his wallet for decades. The sauce is a celebration of my wife’s family’s heritage: competing recipes can be found in any dog joint in the Lake George area; the allspice is a shoutout to their Arab roots. My wife started making it herself a few years ago (always wise to have a batch in the freezer) and when John learned about it, he naturally wanted in. Long story short, we brought some over to his house for dinner, which led to a tradition of more dinners with us and our spouses, that now include another couple (text thread name = “Dog Sauce Crew”). My point: Tacoma Park is nothing without our connection. We often say that conversations at band practice are as important as playing. To improvise and experiment requires deep trust, and dog sauce, among other things, is how we got there and how we nurture it.

Come See Me in the Good Light

I would definitely not equate the vulnerability of sharing one’s experience with terminal cancer to the vulnerability of improvised performance, but I do think there’s value in considering the ways in which artists put themselves out there and take risks. It was this vulnerability that prompted a cleansing sob for me while watching this movie, and the portals into other worlds, what John and I mutually latched onto, is not something to take for granted. It’s a beautifully made film about beautiful people, and while the best art is probably made first and foremost for the artist who makes it, this was a true act of grace and generosity. Such a unique and masterful way of conveying narrative and intimacy too, so much to learn from and take away.

Streak of Tigers

Full disclosure: these are our buds. Fuller disclosure, John mixed their last album which was also released on his record collective The Potluck Foundation. SOT are a trio who each bring something so distinct to their thing, but calling them the “sum of their parts” would diminish the fact that each of those parts could, and sometimes does, stand alone. Brian contributes texture and melody to their soundscape via subtly blissed out guitar and contact-mic'd objects and reads poetry through a processed mic. Michelle also reads poetry, with lines that have prompted barely controllable laughing fits from me, which she loops and manipulates so that they find their ways into everything else. Caitlyn stands behind a complex table of electronic and analogue soundmaking tools, building direction-guiding sonic beds. To me, her approach is as mysterious as it is fascinating, and its evolution has been both fun and educational to witness. The beauty of this band is the disorienting joy of not always knowing who is doing what and getting lost in the very immersive world they create. Just great people too, always and great hang.

Elkhorn

John keeps The Red Valley in regular rotation. For me, it’s On The Whole Universe In All Directions. All their stuff is great. I love their blending of tradition with the less traditional. We do this too, I think, but rely on things like synthesizers next to acoustic guitars. They do it with, like, an acoustic guitar and an electric one, or vibraphones and drums. My point is that this juxtaposition of styles and sounds comes from their songwriting, melodies, rhythms, and arrangements, which is to say, it feels incredibly organic and intuitive. And what even is tradition anyway? Maybe that’s the wrong word. Maybe it’s all traditional. Maybe none of it is. As a duo, they feel like kindred spirits. I listened to an interview with them a few years ago and the amount of thought and intention that seemed to go into their musical practice was both familiar and aspirational. Such brilliant musicianship. Honored to call them labelmates too.

Shadowbox Studios / All Day Records

Shadowbox Studios and All Day Records are two of our favorite places to play anywhere, and they happen to both be in the Triangle. All Day is a record store in Carrboro, where we live, run by these two pillars of the community who, after their/our beloved space Nightlight had to close, started doing more shows here. It’s an open and inclusive place, always a great hang, house show-ish vibes with a killer sound system and people who’ve known what they are doing for a long, long time.

By day, Shadowbox, in Durham, is a photo studio and by night a wonderful venue. I think we’ve played here more than anywhere else. It always sounds good, they have the best setup for projections in town, Jim and Alex who own it are two of the most generous, kind dudes I know, and Matia (aka Secret Astronomer), who runs it with them now, is a great artist and friend who collaborated with us on the Glosson Circle Sessions tape/zine. Always a good time there, with a built-in audience on many nights who love weirdo music. It’s a great place to try out new things. Feels like home when we’re there. Both places are essential to the scene, support locals and touring bands, and we’re just so grateful to have them in our backyards.

France — Do Den Haag Church