The Frank Vlasis Trio & Friends (“Tom Halker’s Red Mill presents…”)

“Surrey with the Fringe on Top” is a rough start, because it’s hard, with that song, not to sound like the jaunty animatronic house band at the Red Garter Saloon—unless your name is Blossom, or Miles. But then it picks up quite well. I love these local records dedicated to a band that plays at a local spot forever—because it’s an odd kind of document of a time and place and some real people. But when a record is this good and listenable, on top of it, it’s a bonus. The kind of album you’d find in the “North Woods” and go, “What the hell is this!” Not just because it’s unlikely—it’s also excellent. But since there’s no internet in the woods, you’ll have to use the “time machine”—and the time machine is this record, and its excellent liner notes by Mike Drew. While this 1980 album was recorded in a studio—and sounds like it—very well done (a variety of well-known standards and lesser-known tunes, including a fine Vlasis composition)—it documents the band that had a regular spot at Tom Halker’s Red Mill, a restaurant and tavern in Brookfield, Wisconsin—playing three nights a week—different focus each night (trio, Dixie, quartet) often with guest musicians, as on this record. Excellent cover photo shows eight guys in suit jackets—I believe seven of them are musicians on this record (there’s one guy, I’m not sure who he is—the only one with sunglasses, facial hair, and no rug—I love stuff like this). (Not to say the musicians aren’t sporting their own hair!) I found The Red Mill on a map—it’s like in the middle of a residential neighborhood. I’ve lived a few places in the past where a local inn would have a house band—it always felt special—and it is! The people who were regulars there at this time were quite lucky, because this is a hot band. They’re all good—including rhythm section, clarinet, trumpet, flugelhorn, and flugabone! Also, some occasional vocals. But Frank Vlasis on piano is extraordinary—virtuosic, as far as I can tell—in a variety of styles. I’m sure the audiences back then knew how special they were, because you’d have to hate music or be very drunk not to. Fine album—glad I found a copy—I’ll keep it next to the time machine. Wait—it is the time machine—and I’ve been stranded in 1980! Oh, well, I could still drink beer then… I think I’ll have a 60-cent draught.

9.13.24