Lina Allemano – trumpet
Ryan Driver – analog synth
Rob Clutton – bass
Nick Fraser – drums
There’s this moment that occurs while attending live shows when I think, “This is why I’m alive. This is real life. This is why I work at a shitty job for 8 hours a day and spend 2 hours in a car in traffic etc etc. This is my reward.” This revelation hasn’t occurred at every show I’ve been to, but most. And it typically exists purely in that moment. It’s not something I dwell on or really think about later. The whole world at that moment is right there in front of me.
Last week, at the Thunderbird Cafe, that moment came shortly after I arrived, bought a beer and found a nice portion of wall to lean against. It didn’t take long. Lina Allemano and her quartet make music that provokes thought. It’s not dance music. It’s not something I’d even nod my head to or tap along with my foot. It’s like a really interesting, delicate and unpredictable conversation of sorts. Standing there and listening was like watching fine art. I don’t seek out this type of music very often. It’s not something I normally put on the turntable at home or search for on Spotify for my aforementioned commutes. But there’s something about watching this stuff live that is pretty enchanting.
I had hoped to stay to catch Ben Opie, who gave his monthly Space Exchange spot to Lina, sit in with the group on sax. However, after a long set break and an even longer day of work, my body was telling me to get to bed. Hopefully, Lina and one of her projects will come back through town again very soon.