The 2004 Earshot Jazz Festival is underway, and C. and I saw pianist Yosuke Yamashita last night. His first set was a trio he formed back in 1988 with Cecil McBee on bass and Pheeroan akLaff on drums. By intermission I was convinced that the "standard" jazz trio was alive and well -- Yamashita seamlessly moving from subtle moody minimalism to traditional Japanese melodies to wild, Cecil Taylor-like storms of percussive pounding. We were sitting in the direct line of fire of McBee's bass, so the massive force of his playing was dominant in the mix, but I imagine every seat in the house appreciated the unusual and inventive power of his approach to the instrument. If I closed my eyes, the bass sounded like a battle of essential elements and animals, whirling around through Yamashita's storms and in akLaff's polyrhythmic patterns. But it was the second set, where the trio was joined by kabuki master musicians Meisho Tosha on fue (flute) and Kiyohiko Semba on percussion when the music transcended individual virtuosity, and genre and became truly inspired. Semba and akLaff passed the beat back and forth like a mythical 4-handed, 4-footed rhythm-beast. McBee (often playing with bow)and Tosha played off of each others mournful interpretations of melody in a study of integrated contrast, cascading in shades of earth and wind. Yamashita was visibly inspired and astonished by his band, and responded with even more power, driving the whole scene into some of the most dramatic music I've ever experienced. This concert was an example of what can come of "world-jazz" collaborations. The theme was to celebrate 150 years of Japan-USA relations.