Keeping things simple and calm

Does anyone remember a time when record labels had their own sounds? Can you recall the last time you bought a CD solely on the basis of what the label was?

Yep, the reviewer is showing his age deep in the digital-downloading era, but the fact is there are still a few labels out there that insist on maintaining a certain profile. One obvious example is Germany’s hardy ECM outfit. Another much closer to home is Cold Blue, which not only puts out albums with a unified profile but also makes use of the much-neglected, much-needed CD single format.

Cold Blue held what the pop side of the music divide once called a label showcase Saturday night at REDCAT, featuring short works by 14 composers -- virtually the entire label roster and then some.

The composers were Read Miller, Kyle Gann, Michael Jon Fink, Larry Polansky, Steve Peters, David Mahler, John Luther Adams, Michael Byron, Chas Smith, Daniel Lentz, Rick Cox, Peter Garland, Jim Fox and the late Barney Childs.

Everything ran amazingly smoothly, one piece leading directly to another with short breaks for applause.

All the performers in each half remained onstage at all times, with each group individually lighted only when it was playing, eliminating the need for disruptive set changes. Presenters of all idioms could learn something from that.

Most strikingly, despite all the differences in the makeup of the ensembles, the diverse musical languages and textures, even the wildly varying levels of musical value, a consistent sonic profile ran like a strong thread throughout. It was a sense of post-minimalist calm and simplicity, usually based on a single idea: ambient music that sometimes caught one in its spell and sometimes wore out its welcome after the first handful of notes.

Among the things that really worked: Lentz’s “Lovely Bird” and “Requiem” -- performed by singer Susan James and Bryan Pezzone on acoustic and electric pianos -- were gorgeous, lyrical miniatures that owe more to mid-20th century American pop and classical influences than some might care to admit.

Steel-guitar wizard Smith remains the most innovative spirit on the roster; his “P770” (a world premiere) made pitchless yet gently enveloping metal machine music.

Fink’s “I Hear It in the Rain” made haunting use of tapped and bowed cymbals, and ethereal washes from an electric guitar.

Cox’s “Later” (another world premiere) found two clarinets entwining over the piano of film land’s Thomas Newman, concluded by ghostly sampled sounds that seemed to emerge from a distant radio.