Dead Kenny G's

If there's any justice in the great beyond, a celebrated wuss like Kenny G will end up working the men's room in hell, force-fed a never-ending diet of his own dreck, groveling for poop tips from Charlie Parker and John Coltrane. Until that happens, radical jazz trio the Dead Kenny...

By John La Briola

February 9, 2006

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If there's any justice in the great beyond, a celebrated wuss like Kenny G will end up working the men's room in hell, force-fed a never-ending diet of his own dreck, groveling for poop tips from Charlie Parker and John Coltrane. Until that happens, radical jazz trio the Dead Kenny G's can try to teach its sorry namesake the error of his ways. Groove-heavy, energetic and darkly unwholesome, the outfit specializes in experimental noise that pools from classical, punk, avant-garde and Eastern-inflected music. Boasting athletic percussionist Mike Dillon (Ten Hands, Les Claypool), manic saxophonist Skerik (Critters Buggin, Crack Sabbath) and stride-happy ivory tickler Brian Haas (Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey), the Dead Kennys bridge the gap between post-bop and funk supremacy -- all while giving Ornette Coleman good reason to smile. With Dillon's equally beguiling Hairy Apes BMX rounding out the bill, there's no better way to celebrate the smooth-jazz apocalypse. G whiz.

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