Composer, pianist, and synthesist Philip Rankin is set to release Wild With Life, the debut album from his jazz sextet, on July 25, 2025 via Orenda Records. A genre-blurring blend of chamber jazz, modular synthesis, and cinematic composition, the album captures Rankin’s reflections on life living beside the Los Angeles River, particularly the Glendale Narrows — one of the few areas where the river still flows freely amid the city’s concrete sprawl.

Rankin, known for his expansive musical vocabulary and creative voice under the alias oneL, returns to acoustic ensemble writing with a renewed sensitivity and sense of place.

Wild With Life blends layered harmonies, expressive improvisations, and immersive soundscapes to capture the dual experience of being beside the Los Angeles River—both the contrast of nature within an urban landscape and the depth of thought inspired by its solitude. Co-produced by Rob Shelton (aka Bobby Kalamino), the album weaves together atmospheric field recordings, Rankin’s signature use of modular synthesis, and his distinctive compositional style. The intricate interplay of the band—blending jazz improvisation with the precision and intimacy of chamber music—infuses each piece with Rankin’s unique, reflective approach to melody and structure. The result is a sonic journey that reflects the river’s impermanence—its cycles of near-drought and flooding—while echoing the resilience of life that persists in the face of a channelized, urbanized floodplain. This is a space where beauty and chaos coexist, creating a unique experience of serenity amidst the hum of city life and the constant rush of the freeway.

LINER NOTES

The Los Angeles River is 51 miles of human intervention. From its headwaters at a high school football field in the San Fernando Valley to the river mouth at Long Beach, not an inch remains untouched. Extreme alteration for flood control by the Army Corps of Engineers in the mid-twentieth century renders it — as intended — more a water freeway than a riparian zone. When the Army Corps of Engineers stepped in to tame the river after a string of catastrophic floods, the task took decades to complete, along with three and half million barrels of concrete, and involved moving some 800,000 dump trucks full of soil. The result? Over a hundred channelized miles in the main stem and tributaries of the river were transformed by engineering, taking out as much of the river’s riverliness as possible.

But, thankfully, nature isn’t inclined to be erased. As the decades have rolled on post-channelization, nature has persisted against all odds, resisting taming, and countering the indomitable forces of engineering. Cracks in the river’s concrete have become unlikely gardens. Thanks to water depth and abundant sunlight making a just-right climate, migratory birds have found an abundant food supply as they make their epic flights.

The few parts of the river that remained less channelized attest to its past, and glimmer with hope that we Angelenos might one day be able to relate to the Los Angeles River not as a risk to be managed, nor a lost cause, nor a filmic hellscape, but as the genuinely important ecology that it is, was, and always will be inherently natural (especially if we attend to its care).

One of those shimmeringly hopeful stretches is the Glendale Narrows, a 7-mile length of the river’s mainstem where nature outmaneuvered engineers. It is along the Glendale Narrows that Philip Rankin walked frequently as he created this album, which is aptly named ‘Wild With Life’.

In case you haven’t had the blessing of visiting the Glendale Narrows, you need to know what makes it special. If you’re one of the million Angelenos who live within a twenty minute walk of the river - don’t just read these words - go visit instead! If you’re further away, here’s a quick character sketch:

The Glendale Narrows is one of the greenest stretches of the LA River. The riverbed - sealed with concrete for almost all of the river’s 51-mile length  - is not so extensively concretized in the Narrows. The natural riverbed (called a ‘soft bottom’) makes it possible for plants and trees to grow, which in turn makes it possible for creatures to survive, creating a more obviously natural river than you’ll find in most other places in the Los Angeles River watershed. There’s always water in the Glendale Narrows, thanks to a combo of hydrology and the discharge of treated wastewater into the river. You’ll see birds when you visit the Narrows, I can almost promise you that. There’ll quite likely be someone fishing, and you — like me — will wonder if they plan to eat their catch. You may see an encampment or two in the stormwater drains, underpasses, or on islands in the river, often with a plank dropped down as a makeshift bridge. A horse and rider may share the path with you. A musician might be playing a surprise outdoor gig, making use of the sloped banks as an amphitheater. You might also see a gaggle of excited kids or reluctantly-intrigued teens at the Narrows on a school field trip, learning that nature is right here where they live. Cyclists will zoom past pedestrians who linger on the shared path. The more adventurous (so long as they can navigate the steep slope) might shuffle their way down the expansive concrete bank to reach the river itself. Once down there, you still hear the rush of the 2 Freeway or the 5 or the 134 (all three freeways cross the river in the Glendale Narrows) but you have other things on your mind than traffic. You’re eye gazing with a great blue heron, listening to the water’s burbling flow, admiring snow-capped mountains to the east, appreciating the shade and cool that the water and vegetation provide, and giggling when you see the Hollywood Sign and it reminds you that you haven’t had to travel far at all to experience this nature immersion.

All of this is to say, the Glendale Narrows is a very special place indeed. My wish is that you might become a companion of the Glendale Narrows, perhaps by visiting in person, by listening to this album, or by taking even more care of the nature that is all around you because nature, the river, you, and I … our lives are intertwined and because of this, it is our responsibility and our blessing to move through the world with care.

— Tilly Hinton Ph.D., January 2025

It wasn’t until the world came screeching to a halt, that I began to appreciate the Los Angeles River.  What was once an abyss of negative space was actually an oasis.  A river tamed by concrete by a city that wished it away,   A place where no matter how hard we tried, continued to grow a flourish.  A place where, if you give it time can teach you so much about life and living.

This record began twelve years ago when I moved to a tiny studio apartment in Atwater Village, my street dead ended at an entrance to the river and I became fascinated with it and its history.  I was broke, separated from my friends and had nothing to do.  I would take long walks along its banks and watch the sunset.  I dreamt of music and a piece I would write about the River.  It was to be for a large group of musicians.  Not because I was interested in writing for a large ensemble, but because I wanted an excuse to get as many of my friends together

Life became busy and the idea faded into the distance.  It wasn’t until 2020 when life came to a halt that I found myself back at the River.  Walking along its banks, missing my friends and rediscovering the world that I had lived next too for so long.
Watching it grow and shrink, watching the birds come and go, and the plants and trees grow taller and taller.  Then rain would come and knock it all down and then the city came and took it all away.  I would mourn the death of the river as I knew it.  

The Common Yellowthroat is one of my favorite birds.  All summer long I would hear its siren song.  But, it lives among the reeds and I could never see it.  It wasn’t until the rain came, and cleared the plants that I saw my first glimpse of this beautiful bird.  Then in the spring the plants and birds return and the river finds a new path through them.  
-Philip “oneL” Rankin

The Los Angeles River–Paayme Paxaayt in Tongva language–is a sacred waterway for the Gabrielino Tongva, Gabrieleño Kizh, Ventureño Chumash, and Fernandeño Tataviam Nations. 

Recorded, Mixed and at Altamira Sound January 2022. 
co-produced by oneL & Bobby Kalamino
Mastered by Dan Eaton at Little Castle Mastering in November 2023
All music composed by Philip Rankin oneL music (ASCAP) 2024

ORENDA RECORDS 0118