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When I sat down to listen to Oregon this time around, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The last time I had seen the band was over twenty years ago in Boston, when they were touring behind 1983’s self-titled release, Oregon. At the time, Ralph Towner was just beginning to use the Prophet Five synthesizer in tandem with acoustic piano. Now, of course, he has been using a variety of keyboards for many years and has added synth guitar to his arsenal. The other major change is the addition of Mark Walker who, for the first time in Oregon’s long history, uses a drum kit in addition to an extensive battery of percussion. The other two members of the band, reed player Paul McCandless and bassist Glen Moore, have been with Oregon from the beginning, which was some 39 years ago.

The audience at Yoshi’s were obviously fans. They erupted into sustained applause before the band had even played a note.

The opening tune, the medium tempo Redial, written by Towner, started out in a modal vein, with percussive single note bass stabs from Towner on acoustic guitar, alternating with flurries of notes hammered on open strings, perhaps in imitation of the rapid electric tones generated by pressing the redial button on your telephone. After this introduction, Redial migrated into a straight chord change tune with the first of many lilting melodies from Paul McCandless on soprano sax, with a vaguely Brazilian groove anchored by an ascending three chord ostinato from Towner. As is usually the case with McCandless, his solo was modally based unless Towner forced his hand by feeding him a triad above a bass note that created an altered tonality. When it was Towner’s turn to solo, he alternated between melodic single line notes which closely followed the tune’s chord changes or complex chordal sequences that nonetheless stayed within the form of the tune. Then the band dropped out to give drummer/percussionist Mark Walker his solo spot, again following the form of the tune. Walker took the unusual tack of playing the drum kit with open hands instead of sticks. There was yet a third section, a two chord vamp fingerpicked by Towner over which McCandless fluttered, which eventually dissolved into a brief free jazz section before the group returned to the melody of the B section, bringing Redial to a close.

I should probably mention at this point that the sound quality was pristine, which was partially because of the superb acoustics at Yoshi’s San Francisco location, but I shouldn’t discount the fine work of sound engineer Johannes Wohlleben (I think that was his name), who Oregon flew over from Germany especially for this tour. All four instrumentalists were perfectly balanced, whether they were playing acoustic or electronic instruments, and the sound was warm and distinct throughout the concert.

The second selection of the night, If, was also by Ralph Towner. (If you are sensing a pattern emerging here, you are correct. Towner is the group’s principal composer.) Towner opened with a rubato, lyrical guitar passage before heading into a folksy head with an almost Mexican feel to it, which Towner doubled with McCandless on soprano. McCandless soloed over a section utilizing similar harmonies and themes as the head, but the form wasn’t identical. On his solo, Towner focused on arpeggiated phrases for the most part, conscientiously maintaining the Latin lilt of the tune.

By this time, I started to relax. I was delighted to note that the chops of all three original members of Oregon were in splendid shape. Also, Towner’s facility for writing accessible and lyrical tunes had not deserted him.

The next tune was an old favorite from 1983’s Crossing, Towner’s The Glide, a bouncy tune with a simple melody that mostly follows the rhythm of the chord changes. Towner switched to acoustic piano for this one, playing chunky comps for the most part behind McCandless’ frenzied soprano licks. Glen Moore broke out his bow for a brief flirtation with some gypsy-ish lines before reverting to plucking the upright bass in the upper register. Towner is a very different musician on piano. Unlike his more intuitive work on guitar, his single note right hand runs on piano were carefully sculpted and scrupulously melodic, while his left hand banged out chord clusters. Towner, Walker, and McCandless traded eights before reprising the head and taking it out.

For Distance Hills, another old favorite from 1973’s album of the same name, McCandless dug out his oboe. Towner was on guitar again, plucking out a mournful, slow arpeggio in 11/8 time, and shifting the harmony around the bass note before briefly heading into an unambiguously major key tonality while McCandless played the simple but unforgettable melody. But this wasn’t the same version we are all familiar with. Towner added an extended B section with much more root motion and many more chord changes, but still following the basic principal of arranging the harmonies around bass notes held over the bar. Towner took his solo over the A section, slowly and methodically. McCandless’ solo over the B section was busier, but not by much. The mood of the piece, as always, was introspective. You could complain that Towner compromised the elegance of the original piece by adding a more involved B section, but I didn’t mind. I’ve heard Distant Hills dozens, maybe hundreds of times. (Imagine how many times Towner has played it.) I enjoyed how Towner extended the composition. Besides, it’s always there on CD in it’s original form if I want to go back and listen to it.

Towner and McCandless took a break for the Glen Moore-penned Hoedown, a duet between bassist Glen Moore and drummer/percussionist Mark Walker. The tune started with congas and bowed bass, an unusual combination. Moore played simple figures, with a focus on rhythm, intertwining with Walker. True to the tune’s name, the melodies were drawn from the same American folk sources that intrigued composer Aaron Copeland, and with the much the same playful spirit. Midway through the tune, the tempo gradually increased until it disintegrated into a free section, madly dominated by comic sawing from Glen Moore. In turn, that developed into a shuffle rhythm before once again speeding up and morphing into something else. It was a lot of fun.

Folks, by the way, taking your kids to an Oregon concert would be an excellent way to introduce them to jazz. Oregon’s music is easy on the ears. The dissonance, while there, almost never includes blue notes, which can be difficult for young kids. McCandless almost never explores the outer range of his reed instruments by expressively honking or playing multiphonics, instead opting for a sweet tone. And yet, Oregon’s music has an underlying sophistication and rigorousness that might help your kids make the transition into more difficult music. As a bonus, Oregon’s music is often fun and not entirely lacking in humor, something kids appreciate as much as adults.

The duet portion of the program continued with From A Dream, the melodies and harmonies which came to composer Ralph Towner, appropriately enough, in a dream. Towner plucked out a staggered rhythm on guitar with an almost waltzlike feel, while McCandless played a sweet lullaby on soprano.

Up until this point, Paul McCandless had acted as master of ceremonies, but then Glen Moore stepped up to the mike and announced that the next piece was going to be free. In a mock apologetic tone, he stage whispered “We’re going to make something up.” What resulted was a musical version of the proverbial kitchen sink, with the musicians seemingly employing every musical instrument in their arsenal. Towner alternated between synthesizer, piano, and guitar synth. McCandless played a variety of reeds, including a bass clarinet and a tiny clarinet that looked like a piccolo. Walker thumped, tickled and stroked a bewildering variety of percussion instruments. The funny thing is, somehow these guys know each other so well, that when they play free, the resulting group improvisation ends up sounding almost as coherent as if it were through composed. This time around, the band relied heavily on drones, rhythmic ostinatos and patterns, gradual dynamic shifts, modal playing, and repeated bass lines (from Towner on synthesizer mostly) to build their performance. The sonic variety was practically infinite. For me, this was the highlight of the concert.

The free improvisation led directly into the next tune, the joyful Towner-penned In Stride, with it’s snappy rhythm and melodic hooks wedded to major triadic chord changes. Towner stuck to synth guitar on that one.

At one point, Paul McCandless announced that this was the second night of Oregon’s American Tour to support their latest release, 1000 Kilometers, but it seems like they’ve already got their set down to a science. Oregon alternates sprightly major chord ditties with free playing with mournful, introspective dirges with comic duets, so the audience never has a chance to feel overwhelmed or bored. Young jazzers take note: there is a reason why Oregon has been a financially sustainable entity for almost four decades.

Another key to Oregon’s success, I think, is that Towner never lets the forms of his tunes disappear too long, even if he’s playing guitar with Moore and Walker behind him. He always interpolates harmonic information into his solos so that the audience can easily follow him, even when the harmonies and time signatures become dauntingly complex.

When Oregon was called back for an encore, some wag suggested that they play a blues. The jest of course is that Oregon studiously avoids playing or composing compositions containing blues harmonies. “Too difficult,” joked Towner. Instead, they played another bouncy tune with stop and go rhythms and an underlying major tonality.

Maybe I just caught Oregon on an extroverted night, but it seems as though Oregon is more cheerful as a live band than I remember from the past, less inclined towards dolorous although undeniably beautiful explorations of abstruse harmonies.

This is neither praise nor criticism, merely an observation.

By the evidence of the vital and energetic music making I witnessed here tonight, Oregon has many productive years ahead of them. I got the impression that they could have gone on for hours. The band members barely broke a sweat in spite of a fairly intense performance. Paul McCandless, Glen Moore, and Mark Walker even had the energy to hang around afterwards and talk to their fans. How cool is that?

Like I mentioned earlier, Oregon is just starting their American tour. If you’re into peppy world jazz that’s easy on the ears and nourishing to your brain, I recommend you check them out. It’s totally worth it.

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