What constitutes a jam band? Do you need guitar solos that last the length of an Adult Swim show? Do you need concert attendees huffing balloons and taking LSD? Do you need to hire a lighting designer so sick that Justin Bieber steals him? Not to sound like the old hippie approaching hour five of the campfire lecture, but it’s all about the groove, man. The Nathan Bowles Trio’s Are Possible renders these questions moot by stripping this music of all frills and signifiers. This is three people in a room, conversing through instrumental mastery.
Bowles, who plays banjo, doesn’t need squawking solos or balloons or drugs or a light show. He doesn’t need vocals—hell, he doesn’t even need a guitarist, though sometimes the instrument adds a nice flavor. On Are Possible, Bowles reunites with double bassist Casey Toll and drummer Rex McMurry (of CAVE) for the first time since 2018’s Plainly Mistaken, and though the sound is more direct now, the message remains the same. Plainly Mistaken foregrounded experimentation, pushing further into free improvisation. Here, the group digs deeper into the core melodies from which the songs are built. Great jams need not be heady or flashy: These exercises are live-time encapsulations of the awe invoked when one idea perfectly informs the next.
Despite the spontaneity that exists between Bowles and his bandmates, the trio relies on a few tricks to move its songs from one section to the next. Opener “Dappled” immediately sets Appalachian folk music in conversation with jazz and modern minimalism. The song’s groove is contoured by Toll’s dexterous bass. Throughout the album, Toll, who plays with Jake Xerxes Fussell and Mount Moriah, serves as a counterpoint to the music’s mesmerizing repetitions. He provides the rhythmic and melodic tension, as he does on “Dappled,” where he riffs off Bowles’ banjo progression and dips between the pockets of McMurry’s groove.
This practice is best illustrated on the album’s emotional centerpiece, “Gimme My Shit,” which stands out thanks to the joyous nature of the hook. A bouncing banjo riff contrasts with the comforting warmth of snare drum clicks; rhythmic chords occasionally give way to a shining melody, like sun slowly emerging from clouds. As the song marches along in 6/8 time, Toll provides the steady anchor, allowing Bowles to hint at the main refrain before finally landing on it. The eventual release is all the more powerful, as the duo engage in a descending phrase highlighted by a cymbal crash that creates the album’s most powerful musical motif.
Banjo-led instrumentals that pay homage to Appalachian folk music is a hyper-specific niche, but Bowles and his band never allow their preferred sounds to hem in their experiments. This music leads in all directions, unfurling with patience and reserve to reveal the balance between repetition and deviation. Are Possible shows that rural folk, cosmic new age music, and hard-charging rock aren’t only relatable, but can be inextricably linked. The jam is only the beginning.
