Herb Sundays 189: Sam Wilkes

Sam Wilkes (sounds like John Wilkes Booth, yes) is a musician of stunning economy, so much so that his website offers only this as a bio: “Los Angeles-based composer, bassist, producer, and multi-instrumentalist.” So we can reconstruct one from various sources, including his booking agent’s site, which says: “A frequent collaborator of Sam Gendel, Louis Cole/KNOWER, and Jacob Mann- Other collaborations throughout Wilkes’ career include: Chaka Khan, Mk.gee, Dijon, Rufus Wainwright, Maggie Rogers, Dean Blunt, Neil Frances, Genevieve Artadi, Jacob Collier, and Dominic Fike etc.”

Linnie Green for Pitchfork says: “Sam Wilkes has tried on different identities in his career as an L.A. instrumental envelope-pusher: pop dabbler, on his 2018 debut, Wilkes; loop and beatmaker, on 2021’s Music for Saxofone and Bass Guitar, with frequent collaborator Sam Gendel; and instrumental iterator on 2021’s One Theme & Subsequent Iteration, among other releases. Wilkes is an explorer and a chameleon, reconfiguring his band from a cast of L.A. jazz and rock stalwarts for each successive project.”

And from a 2021 piece on the rise of “ambient jazz” for the same publication, Philip Sherburne adds some texture to the scene Wilkes often plays amidst:

“Collaboration led to an array of striking fusions. In Los Angeles, a loose-knit group of peers—Carlos Niño, Sam Gendel, Sam Wilkes, Jamael Dean, Jamire Williams, Nate Mercereau—have spent the past few years mapping out various points along the axis between the structure of jazz and the formlessness of ambient. Between them, they racked up an impressive number of records this year, including Carlos Niño & Friends’ More Energy Fields, Current, Sam Gendel’s Fresh Bread, Gendel and Wilkes’ Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar More Songs, Nate Mercereau’s Sundays, and more. And the Fuubutsushi quartet wrapped up a four-album series launched late last year that blends the sounds of Tortoise, Talk Talk, and ECM into low-key dreamscapes as captivating and ephemeral as afternoon light grazing worn floorboards.”

Wilkes and his buddy Sam Gendel (Herb 65) (“the Sams,” as they are often referred to) rose to power in the late ‘10s as part of an ascendant Leaving Records roster, neatly placed amidst askew New Age and Ambient and EZ-adjacent yet credible sounds, and a continued growth for Jazz among younger audiences. Their appeal was near immediate, and with more Sams music begetting more limited vinyl and cassettes, or. a compelling cadence for modern fandom. I suspect that this way they release music, consistently and breezily, is as big a part of its appeal as the work itself. Lending a freewheelingness and lightness of touch, no thundering manifestos, just tunes fresh from the session. Consistent fandom from all manner of places from The New Yorker, New Commute, ULYSSA TV, POW MAG, and Aquarium Drunkard has flowed freely.

TNLF (Via interview): Utilitarian is an interesting way to describe it. In fact, the album takes on a new dimension when you learn that it was entirely composed with just two instruments. What was your intention with limiting yourself to saxophone and bass? Were there unexpected consequences / outcomes as a result of putting those kinds of restrains on yourselves?

GENDEL: There are no limitations here, only an expression of freedom using concrete tools and examples in the physical.

WILKES: Just to play music together. It was liberal. It felt less like a restraint and more as a matter of fact.

But this chiller aesthetic belies a very deep and ardent student of music, I found out when researching Wilkes. In his two-part interview with fellow Angeleno Jazzer and oft-collaborator Kiefer, now freshly signed to Blue Note Records, you can really feel Wilkes’ almost t-1000 level intensity on any genre, artist, or city that intrigues him, including artists in this playlist. You see a long future for Wilkes, obviously as a practitioner but also a scholar and mentor.

If I’m a Substack-brained conflater (the verdict is out), I obviously draw a line that Wilkes and Co. are a psychological refuge for music fans in an era locked in a death race, in actuality or just metaphorically, with the threat of AI. The good news, if you follow that line of thinking, is that capital M Music will run at a premium of interest, especially for active artists you can follow, toting deep catalogs, that play often (Wilkes has many dates with Gendel ahead of him this year) and beautifully.

Wilkes is prime Herb fare, but I was reminded to ask Sam for a playlist when I saw the announcement of the new collaborative album, and also this post from Darius Van Arman of Secretly Group/All Flowers Group, who was gobsmacked by the Sams’ 2024 album, The Doober:

I’m falling in love again with live music, and thanks to a breadcrumb trail left by a friend, I discovered “The Doober” by Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes.

Jesus Louise, it’s a revelation. The album features the duo’s jazz improvisations recorded live in Japan and Los Angeles in 2022 and 2023, but it is not strictly a saxophone-and-bass affair; other instruments and elements are added to the mix. The album has such a loose, laid-back, understated joy to it all. From time to time, the duo gets ecstatic, and the horn playing becomes rambunctious or dissonant, but their performances remain steady and exquisite throughout. The more I listen to it, the more I fall in love with it.

I would even go so far as to surmise that you could not put a price on performances like these. There is no replicating them ever; this special connection between two friends who, for a few moments in time, shared a journey of unconstrained expression. Remember this whenever you have the chance to go see live music made by gifted musicians; whatever the ticket price, you’re likely getting the deal of the century.

This morning, I was watching POV video rides (like a herb) with my five-year-old son on Disney+. Disneyland’s Tiana's Bayou Adventure on Disney+, a park adaptation of the 2009 animated film The Princess and the Frog, centers on you, the flume-riding protagonist, corralling jazz-musician animals for a Mardi Gras party in New Orleans. The music overlayed is about finding joy in real things, presumably jazz/food/people. I realize the irony of an anti-capitalist message in this context.

It struck me that the appeal of Wilkes and his network of players is that yearning to have not only talent, but friends to jam with, people that have exquisite but non-elitist taste, to be so confident in one’s skin you can risk it all on stage, in a vulnerable embrace with said friends. The non-dangerous parasocial aspects of the Sams, and perhaps the solution to the perceived loneliness crisis, are what the music and the lifestyle represent: A sort of wanderlust and a desire to be both deeply passionate and deeply free, comforted by the fact that music is, in fact, the only way through.

Bonus Beats: All Flowers in Time Bend Towards the Sun

• I have been enjoying Hollie Kenniff’s Substack, including her interview with life/music partner, and Ghostly fam, Helios, here:

• Annahstasia on Tiny Desk. Are you not entertained?

• Speaking of iconic duos like the Sams, we’ve made Studio’s non-album West Coast cuts available, including two nu-disco remixes by Todd Terje and Prins Thomas.

  

  Plus, another duo crushed gets the Jacques Greene (Herb 75) remix treatment.