Art, music in this case, is a great mover and healer.

Luther Thomas and his quartet were expected at the Spirit Room by 5 p.m. on April 5. Engineer, producer, food, and hospitality were waiting. By 10 p.m., the quartet had neither phoned nor appeared, and I alone remained to greet the group. When they finally pulled up, after 1 a.m., I admit to being pretty ticked off. Hearing that he had also kept two other members of the band waiting for 8 hours because of a car rental screw-up further amazed me. Luther, there are phones!

The next day the recording started at 11 a.m. and, after a solid but ragged opening, Luther called for the tune Kool Aid. To my amazement, and before mid-day, magic was in the air as the group delivered a performance so inspired that the frustration of the day before dropped away in the glory of the art. Music is indeed a healing force.

I first encountered Luther Thomas as part of the St. Louis Black Artists Group (BAG), and his music still conveys those Midwestern roots, the territorial spirit of the K.C.-Dallas-St. Louis triangle. Each member of the group has his own individual and distinct personal rhythm, and yet, together as a group, they move as one through the music. Working together with focused energy and searing intensity, they rip open and expose the magnitude of their creative force. There is nothing subtle or dull about this music. It has a deep spiritual base, making it impossible for me not to be deeply moved by its probing of the soul.

The group first played together in 1984 and the time together shows as they attack the music with uncompromised directness and unflinchingly raw emotion. This session is a great example of the essence of creative improvised music. It tells powerful tales. It is the stuff of life. It is Luther Thomas, Ted Daniel, Wilber Morris, and Denis Charles at their best.

Robert D. Rusch