1. Where did it all begin Wally? When were you born? Where were you brought up? Was it a musical household, can you remember any formative influences or moments of epiphany that set you off early?

I grew up in the South during the 50’s and 60’s and was attracted to black music from a very young age – mostly through black radio stations. I was drawn to the fervor of the singer’s voices – Little Willie John, James Brown, Bobby Bland, Billy Stewart, Ted Taylor, Wilson Pickett (w/The Falcons) – those kinds of singers – the screamers & shouters - really got to me.

2. How did you end up playing the saxophone? Was jazz yr first musical love? Were you listening to much rock music? Did you listen mostly to free jazz or more straight stuff at first – were you ever interested in European improvisation or were you more immersed in the American tradition?

I listened mostly to rock ‘n roll, r ‘n b,& soul until the late 60’s when I got exposed to free jazz and psychedelia. The good stuff had that same quality of fervor and naked emotionality that the 50’s black singers had. Karma, Meditations, Spritual Unity knocked me out. I listened to everything I could. Everything that had that element of spunk and weirdness – Cecil Taylor, electric Miles, Beefheart, Hampton Grease Band, Stooges, Art Ensemble, Braxton, ESP discs, etc. Read about it too – the radical politics, the intentions behind it, the reasons it sounded ‘weird’, the challenge to consumerism, etc. – had my own ‘personal revolution’ as a result of the music – began to see and hear things in a broader, more radical way.

I picked up a sax in 1970, just to scream, make noise, let off steam. Had been convinced by grade school music teachers that I wasn’t ‘musical’, but the free jazz moved me to play. I loved the sound of over-blown saxophones, I suppose. But, given my background (white, Southern, working-class), I felt ‘un-authentic’ playing black music.

Later (‘72-73), I heard the Music Improvisation Company and was exposed to British improvisation through Evan Parker, Derek Bailey, the SME, Paul Rutherford, et al. I heard it as an extension of free jazz and abstraction, in general – less pulse-oriented, leading to even weirder shapes, phrases, textures. A music exclusively for the imagination – no historical reference points. This co-mingling of free jazz and British free improvisation together led to my discovering a music within me that was both personal and necessary.

So I began practicing daily, exploring the intricacies of the instrument, though aware that free improvisation was, first and foremost, a collective music, so I had to find kindred spirits, and, over time, I did. This was in Colorado in the early 70’s.

3. Are you a professionally trained musician or are you self-taught – do you think technique is something that ‘helps you get there’ or that can get in the way of the gush of yr muse?

I’m self-taught, proudly, as I like to say, because to make highly personal music, it helps to find your own methods. I didn’t have to ‘un-learn’ anything to play freely. Listening and responding – being present – that’s what it’s all about. So, developing a responsive language based on chromatic and symmetrical scales made more sense than un-learning chord-based, traditional harmonies. Plus, free improvisation is so conversational- based on listening and intuitive responses - I never felt the need to learn conventional song structures.

But, let me be clear, to get to your ‘personal sound’ – your real sound, warts and all – and to develop an intuitive sense of form, you have to work very hard. Lots of listening, lots of practicing, lots of inter-active playing. There are no short-cuts for that. None.

4. When did you first start to make music out on yr own, play gigs etc? Where were you based then? What was the reception like? Were you playing free from the start or what?

Around 1974, in Colorado Springs, I began forming free improvising groups and foisting them on the public. Noise, distortion, and high-energy - mostly electric guitars and sax, no drums - were the hallmarks of these early groups. They were met with hostility, and given the general music climate at the time – Eagles cover bands and John Denver sound-a-likes – that was expected, even provoked. I was definitely in the confrontational mode at that time – wanted to ‘shake up the locals’.

Later, around ‘79-80, I hooked up with two Colorado College musicians, Ross Rabin and Keith Gardner, to form a trio, using a multitude of junk percussion, electric guitars, sax, clarinet and cheap electronics (influences included Alterations, Lytton/Parker duos, Art Ensemble, Xennakis). The reception was much better; in fact, we even got invited to play at schools for kids.

Eventually, Ross Rabin and I released an LP in 1981, called Scree-Run Waltz (documenting a live performance), with hand-painted covers, the whole independent record/DIY thing. That was sort of my entry into the visible free improv game.

5. What, for you, are the merits of improvised free music over composition? Was free music something you just instinctively took to – something that spoke to the essence of you immediately – or was it something you came to through years of shedding structure etc?

I tend to chafe when playing other people’s music, always feel too obliged to ‘please’ them, so free playing w/like-minded souls – that’s the only option for me. I wouldn’t want to work any other way, though I understand why others work differently. The goal is to make music in a way that feels natural - un-contrived and un-coerced.

6. Can you tell me about some of yr early groups and early live playing experiences?
7. In terms of recording, how do you feel about preserving what were spontaneous performances? When did you begin recording? (Can you stick a discography in if you have one?)
8. I’m guessing playing the music you do you must have been pretty isolated over the decades? What was it like? Did you come across many like-minded players? Who were they? What kept you going?

There are always mavericks in any city – people who’re drawn to the deeper end of the pool musically and they tend to find one another. I’ve always found kindred spirits. Davey Williams and La Donna Smith were important people to me ( I moved to Birmingham in 1981) – their commitment to free playing and their view of it as a poetic, surrealist experience (to invoke the ‘Marvelous’) was and still is inspiring and motivating. Plus, the way they incorporated their Southern roots into the ‘non-idiomatic’ language was influential since I strongly feel playing abstract music should reveal who you are, not be something you learn and then hide behind.

9. I guess yr profile took a real lift through yr championing by and collaborations with people like Thurston Moore, Byron Coley and Chris Corsano? How did you hook up with them? Were you aware of Sonic Youth previously? What did you think of them? Can you see parallels in what they do and what you do?

I learned that Thurston had bought a copy of Scree-Run Waltz way back when and was aware of my subsequent work, which was mostly documented on self-released cassettes. Thurston, much to his credit, keeps up with lessor known musicians, poets and writers, if he feels they’re doing authentic work. In 1998, he invited my group Project W (Brent Arnold-cello and Jeph Jerman-drums) to open for Sonic Youth, and it was terrific. We just played like we normally did and their audience dug it.

Since then, we’ve done some playing and recording together, and, invariably, it’s been an enriching experience. I’ve played with a lot electric guitar players (‘played’ one myself more or less, with drills, files, etc) and have learned to make my sax work with whatever they’re up to.

10. Do you think that there has been a blurring of genres recently, with lots of people from different disciplines working out the implications of total musical freedom?

Tell me a little about how yr current trio came about – you all sound very hooked in together, how did you meet Reuben and Bob?

Reuben Radding had moved to Seattle from NYC, had ‘been around the block’, so to speak, and when we first played together, I knew I had found a great player – very versatile and an exceptional arco player. He recruited Bob, who has both classical training and road-tested ‘jam band’ chops, into the free game, which he ‘got’ immediately. We played quite a few sessions before we publicly played (something I advocate) in 2001. We’ve developed a strong trio language, I think – able go from collectivist playing to support/lead and back in a heart-beat, which keeps things unpredictable and full of momentum.

11. Regarding yr visual art – do you think there is a parallel between yr visual _expression and yr musical one – if so, how would you articulate it?

My aesthetics re: my own art and music are pretty much the same. I work from the inside out, get the ball rolling, so to speak, and then shape it in spontaneous ways. Each and every texture/shape has a different ‘feel’ to me, so I try to give them– either sonically or visually - a life of their own. If things get too refined, too polished, too intellectual, I lose interest. Investigating that place where the ‘primitive’ becomes ‘sophisticated’ (and vice-versa) is what interests me.

12. How did you meet Paul Flaherty? You both seem to have a lot in common, from a ferocious saxophone style, a commitment to total musical freedom and the fact that you both led pretty isolated careers through sticking to yr creative guns…
13. How does the experience differ when playing with players from the ‘jazz’ tradition and playing with people from other genres like Thurston?
14. You mentioned before the way you organised the Blue Purge CD to build to the centre and fade out again in terms of energy, is that high-energy kick the thing yr always chasing? Or are you as interested in the low-level intricacies too?

Improvising, to me, is about staying in the moment, staying focused on the thing you’re creating collectively with others. Fast, high-energy playing makes it easier to stay there – you don’t have time to think – but any playing that remains intense and focused, not distracted or meandering, is worth pursuing.

15. What does the title refer to? I think of the idea of purging, of tearing it all out of you – does music have that cathartic function for you? Do you think of it as a form of self-expression or simply as you wrestling with energy, sound and form?

When someone speaks of ‘self-expression’, (particularly when used pejoratively), it always begs the question, “which self?” I think improvising helps you discover your ‘spontaneous self’, the one that actually likes surprises and takes delight in free falling/free association/caterwauling. The longer this self stays in control, the better. It’s just more open and creative than the analytical self. Of course, it has to learn its limits – not be destructive or domineering. So, I don’t look at improvising so much as catharsis, but as a means to access this spontaneous self and give it free reign, although that might amount to the same thing.

16. This kind of music seems to deal with higher states of post-articulate consciousness, has this been something you’ve experienced being involved in this music? It seems to speak of other planes of experience where the rational mind is completely by-passed and we’re closer to some kind of primal/ecstatic/advance consciousness – do you have any truck with this or do you see this as mystic shit? Have you had any personal experiences/encounters with this mysterious art-force-spirit?
17. What next for you Wally? What ambitions, forthcoming projects etc?

Projects? I have a quartet recording in the can, looking for a label, and I have a book of my music writing getting completed. Otherwise, I plan to keep doing what I’m doing. If you’re compelled to do something, you don’t really have much choice about continuing to do it.