Living under the radar

Their three-year history is one of near breakthroughs and close calls with notoriety, as their often playful and experimental sound consistently flirts with being misunderstood.

Their three-year history is one of near breakthroughs and close calls with notoriety, as their often playful and experimental sound consistently flirts with being misunderstood.

Though a following has evaded them, when it comes to playing unconventional and entirely unrehearsed jazz, Thee Oregon Artificial Limb Company understand that recognition in the realm of the avant-garde isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

As Kelvin Pittman, a physics student here at PSU and sax player for trio says, “It’s the way we’ve always operated, slightly under the radar.”

The shaggy dog story might have started a few years ago when the trio had an offer from the New York label Old English Spelling Bee (publishers of Mouthus and James Ferraro among others) to put out a record.

“We got all this stuff recorded,” drummer Mark Kaylor says, “but at Old English Spelling Bee the shit hit the fan because the dude broke up with his girlfriend, spent all the label money and Jesus, you know, the record never came out.”

These guys are far from lamenting a would-be release on a notable label, nor do they regret their time spent recording the songs. “It was just a sunny day in the living room [with the] tape machine,” Kaylor says, “we made carne asada tacos.”

In the MySpace age of constant self-promotion, the Limb Co. has a modest, if not minimalist, approach to getting their sound out there.

“The difference between where we’re at and being some hot shit improv band is not much of a difference at all,” says Bob Jones, double bass player for the Artificial Limb Co. “Still, the majority of people are not gonna like it.”

It’s a humble admission, and yet for a group without much ambition beyond the experience of their music, it’s a liberating perspective to have. The way they play reflects their relaxed attitude toward structure and their dedication to style in what they call a “musical conversation,” a nuanced and seemingly effortless journey from nonsense to genre and back again.

On seeing the Limb Co. play a few weeks earlier, I was surprised at just how much musical terrain they were willing to traverse, from wholly irrational tribal nonsense to downright funky and, god forbid, almost catchy jams.

“We can, and have, and will, do anything,” Kaylor says.

As one of the founding members of Portland’s noise collective Cexfucx, he is no stranger to taking it to the next level if it means freaking some people out, but his work in the Limb Co. often precedes him.

“I played a show with Grizzly Bear,” he says, “[and] the guitar player was like ‘I saw you play drums for Thee Oregon Artificial Limb Co., you guys are weird.'”

For their entire career the Limb Co. has embraced that weirdness and so far it has taken them to the brink of notoriety several times. However, Kaylor and his cohorts are more than comfortable making music on their own terms.

When and if notoriety comes, it will just have to accommodate itself to a group that’s proven perfectly comfortable approaching their music from a distinct angle.