At its best, improvised music is in the moment, created out of necessity, reflecting the times in which it was created. I’ve found that there are particularly delectable moments with this music when you are in a room where you feel that the music itself is being born right out of the collective feeling in the room at that moment. This past Wednesday evening at Threes Brewing was one of those instances. When vocalist Amirtha Kidambi and bassist Luke Stewart took the stage they came with rare purpose. From the first note, they dug into a narrative tension, buzzing and clicking with immediacy, that was riveting from one note to the next. Stewart demarcated the physical landscape with deep earth tones and Kidambi added the color, the action, and the light. And move they did, decisively through many twists and turns, ascents and descents. Frustration. Desperation. Pain. Impending doom. Hope. Resilience. Rising, rising. At one point Kidambi’s voice took on such a fierce, human cry, tears welled up in my eyes. How much longer can we go on through all of this? Is there a way out? Will we make it? And if we do emerge from this nightmare, what scars shall we bear? That fierce scream felt like it came from all of us. Exhale. Inhale. One or two more ascents. There is light there somewhere.

Photo Credit: Cisco Bradley