What Erskine describes as “the album I always wanted to make” turns out to be exactly that — and then some.
Hard Wag Records
Peter Erskine – drums; Alan Pasqua – piano; Scott Colley – bass; GUESTS; Kate Lamont – vocals (on Poetry Man); Bob Sheppard – saxophone (on Poetry Man & Leaving LA); Brian Kilgore – percussion (on Poetry Man)
Piano trio records are everywhere, and plenty of them blur together after the first few songs. Peregrine is a different story. Peter Erskine had been wanting to record some of these songs for years — “God Only Knows,” “Wichita Lineman” — and when the right moment came, he brought in pianist Alan Pasqua, a longtime collaborator, and bassist Scott Colley, who was new to the partnership and brought a fresh energy. You can hear it in the playing — a looseness and joy that makes the whole record feel like these three couldn’t wait to get in the room together. Nearly every track is a first take. When the bass and piano are this locked in, when the drums are this perfectly placed, why would you do it again?
Part of what makes Peregrine special is where and how it was made. Reelsounds Studio in Chicago was founded by the late Mark Brunner, a champion of analog recording at a time when most of the world had moved on. Erskine and Brunner were friends, and making this record there — co-produced by Brunner’s widow, Jo Pangilinan — gives the album a weight that goes beyond the music itself. This is a record that was made to sound like the musicians are in the room with you.
On “Gumbo Time,” the opening track, you can feel the presence of Allen Toussaint and Professor Longhair in the room. Pasqua is the harmonic heart of the album. His touch is clear and articulate — fingers that feel like they’re bouncing off the keys on the bebop energy of “Bop Be,” then pulling back to something almost fragile on “God Only Knows,” where he treats Brian Wilson’s melody with real reverence, as if certain notes might break if pressed too hard. “Wichita Lineman” gets the same loving treatment — Pasqua plays Jimmy Webb’s melody in slow motion at first, the bass booming underneath, before the trio gradually reveals what a gorgeous jazz piece it can become without ever abandoning what made the song great to begin with.
Colley is the quiet revelation of the record. His bass has a beautiful resonant ring — woody and lyrical one moment, walking with quiet insistence the next. What’s striking is how melodically he thinks. He’s never just holding down the bottom end — he’s in constant conversation with whoever has the melody.
Throughout all of this, Erskine is the model of restraint. Subtle rim shots hang just behind the melody. Brushwork appears and recedes like breath. He pushes the rhythm on “Dear Chick” when it’s needed, then practically disappears into the texture on “On The Lake,” where his presence is felt more than heard. He never shows off. He simply serves the music, and the music is better for it.
The album’s emotional core runs deeper than craft. “Poetry Man” — featuring guest vocalist Kate Lamont and saxophonist Bob Sheppard — is jazzier and bluesier than the version that was everywhere on the radio, but it captures that time perfectly. “Leaving LA,” with its buoyant hard bop feel, comes from a film directed by Erskine’s son-in-law. Brian Wilson passed away shortly after the mix of “God Only Knows” was completed. These aren’t just songs — they’re markers of real life, and the trio plays them that way.
There are a lot of piano trio records out there. Not many of them sound like this. What Erskine describes as “the album I always wanted to make” turns out to be exactly that — and then some.
