There is a familiar tale in the Pacific Northwest that has been told many times over-a young, talented musician born and raised on the region's music scene, educated in area programs, who leaves to pursue their musical dreams in cities abroad. In jazz, that usually means a pilgrimage to New York and institutions such as Juilliard or the Manhattan School of Music. In some cases, it's just a matter of getting to Gotham to somehow gain connections that lead to a life as a professional musician outside of academia. Some return, while many do not. This tale is not one exclusively experienced in Seattle of course-any city you can name besides New York ultimately loses its brightest and best to the allure of locations more suitable for developing one's art and gaining professional accessibility. There are those who choose a different path and ultimately come home to become important contributors to the vibrant local jazz and improvised music scene in Seattle and the PNW. Bassist Kelsey Mines is one of those artists.
The daughter of a jazz educator and trumpeter, Mines didn't pursue the double bass until high school, beginning years earlier on electric. Her interest in classical bass performance led her to the University of Washington and Arizona State University, eventually leading to studies in The Netherlands at the distinguished Prince Claus Conservatoire. Along the way, she chanced upon new creative interests and slowly began to realize more and more, her true musical identity as an artist. Much of that new territory involved improvised forms.
As a performing artist in and around Seattle, we began to witness Mines' evolution as a wide-ranging palette of musical ideas and pursuits. In the jazz community, she was seen more as an advocate of improvised forms on the outer edge of the music, seemingly drifting more towards the avant-garde. It wasn't long before those perceptions seemed incomplete, as Mines began to appear on the scene in many contexts, exhibiting post-bop jazz and Brazilian inclinations. One night one might see her in the multi-dimensional songwriting duo, Earthtoneskytone with guitarist Carlos Snaider. Shortly thereafter, she may be carrying the heavy end of Barcelona born pianist Marina Albero's ensemble, or riding the cutting edge of Brazilian music with the brilliant pianist Jovino Santos Neto.
For this writer personally, a fuller appreciation for Mines' playing arrived in seeing her perform in pianist Ann Reynold's trio, working her way through open interpretations of tunes written by historic female composers, among them, Mary Lou Williams. Playing in equal partnership with Reynolds and drummer Chris Icasiano, her role as a soloist brought out intricate articulation, a satisfying, woody, organic sound and a penchant for composing memorable melodies spontaneously. When called for, she resonated strongly on the bottom end, allowing Icasiano to approach the drum kit as a melody instrument. There was a fearlessness to her playing, accentuated by a keen sense of swing. It seemed that the many colors of Mines' musical interests were forming a cohesive spectrum of original sound that was flexible, versatile, all the while exuding strength and vision.
This autumn gives the Seattle jazz community maximum access to Mines' current adventures in music. She appears four times at the 2025 Earshot Jazz Festival, including an October 22 date leading a stellar sextet at the Chapel Performance Space. That performance coincides with her new release on the highly regarded Origin / OA2 label,
Everything Sacred, Nothing Serious.
At first glance, there seems to be a powerful pull towards Brazilian music on the new record, with the liner notes written by Santos Neto. Her interest in this form has taken her to studies in Sao Paolo and has led to musical alliances that include two participants on the album-guitarist Danilo Silva and flutist Elsa Nilsson. Three of the eight tracks have a distinct connection with Brazilian form and rhythmic cadence, yet the entirety of the recording more reflects Mines' myriad of interests, drawn together into one, highly personal sound. "My goal with this record was to be really direct, succinct, get a message across in a 'to the point' kind of way. But there's still an experiential flavor," she says.
Some early decisions in the process set the project in motion foundationally. She brought in pianist John Hansen and flutist Nilsson, adding Portland drummer Machado Mijiga to join her in the rhythm section. Trombonist Beserat Tafesse rounded out a front line with Nilsson and the subtle vocal work of Mines, creating a balanced melodic framework that is naturally atmospheric. The interchange between Mines and Nilsson on "Slow Moving" presents a rare chemistry that is prevalent throughout the eight compositions. The flutist is another musician that has benefited greatly from her time studying and performing with Santos Neto while a student at Seattle's Cornish College of the Arts.
Everything Sacred, Nothing Serious is tastefully constructed, with its musical ingredients accentuating Mines' artistic core. "I could have easily done too much," she points out while avoiding that pitfall that many become trapped in. She enlisted bassist, mentor and ace record producer Steve Rodby to guide the process, and released it through Origin, a label known for its ability to distribute the music globally. "I look at him as more than a producer, as a mentor as well," cites Mines concerning Rodby. "He's the perfect person-an insane, super accomplished bass player, knows the industry inside out, and has the production skills and engineering skills, ears, and vision. He's incredibly kind and direct, nothing sugarcoated. It's been great to have him in my corner."
At first listen, the combination of flute and trombone strikes the listener as unique, yet harmonically balanced. "I'm obsessed with the flute right now, sonically. It really nourishes me. It has an attack and sustain that's just like drinking a cold glass of water, it's so satisfying," she exclaims. What gives the melody buoyancy is Mines' skillful use of her wordless vocal work, acting like a wisp of wind that leads one to the melody's core qualities. Her voice lines double either the deep resonance of Tafesse's trombone work, or the sounds offered by Nilsson's flute, which can be lighter-than-air or torrentially storm-like. With the human voice being an intrinsic connection musically to all humans, Mines sees it as an unmasking of sorts. "I want to leave people feeling like they have permission to take more risks, to be more unapologetic. I think the voice has the power to do that, especially when you're doing it in such a raw way-this is it, there's nothing to be afraid of-what's the worst thing that can happen?"
In all, this album, this project of great care and self-awareness, is a sound primer on who Kelsey Mines is as an artist with intent on impacting the world around her. Her art, and her perception of the world around her in challenging times is inseparable. "I think music and art in general can't be separated from the political climate. I can't help but highlight that care in my music."