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Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Words and Pictures by Thomas Hauner

Ahmad Jamal presented a tight, affable early set at the Blue Note, playing through a repertoire spanning both genres and decades. After sitting down to the piano and launching into “Wild is the Wind / Sing”—from 2008’s impressive It’s Magic—Jamal quickly stood back up and, going from stage right to left, introduced his supporting cast: Percussionist Manolo Badrena, drummer Jake Johnson, and his trusty bassist James Cammack. He then impishly added, “…and me!” As if there was any doubt.


As a stalwart bop pianist in earlier times Jamal’s playing flaunted timing and urbane impulse, all without resorting to innocuousness. His rhythm always attacked and then defused in interesting ways. Thus his work with Badrena has been a welcome marriage, blending dynamic rhythms and feel with eclectic textures. A new composition, “Love Is Lost”, showcased some of Badrena’s bells and “It’s Magic”, a slow ballad, was made even more tender with gingerly conga flourishes.


Cammack also showed-off his tenure with Jamal, effortlessly playing with and under Jamal’s strong lines. A new tune, “Flight to Russia”, was grounded by a swinging bass line that carried the piece. At another point Cammack played a brilliant solo of modulating octaves, all while fighting over a waiter’s steak order in the background.


Jamal was still, however, very much the focus of the set. Vocally, he would chide his aging hands when they failed him during a virtuosic run or compliment Cammack or Badrena after invigorating turn-arounds. It gave the intimate club an even more intimate feel, like we were picking his brain in real-time. Musically, Jamal was engaging as ever. Though he sometimes stumbled on his most difficult passages, his classics, like “Poinciana”, were ethereal in their resolving harmonies and syncopated cadences.



Closing with “Baalbeck”—written after a 2004 performance in the town of the same name in Lebanon—proved a disappointing choice. Its militant, and prominent, snare-drum rhythm smothered Jamal’s playing suffocating the piece. It was simply unrepresentative of the night’s warm performance as a whole.



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Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Words and Pictures by Thomas Hauner

Dan Deacon’s seminal solo tours became the stuff of indie legend: One Humpty Dumpty man clad in Sally Jessy Raphael frames; a DIY table covered in lo-fi electronic equipment and electrical tape set up in the middle of the dance floor; and raucous dance parties with Deacon’s idiosyncrasies at the epicenter. Much has changed since his breakthrough electronic album Spiderman of the Ring’s and its accompanying tours, however. Deacon, musically and financially liberated, composed an epic album, Bromst, of sweeping instrumentals and densely rewarding layers with the help of a 14-piece ensemble—his very own Baltimore Gamelan if you will. Naturally, the size of his new arrangements invite new constraints into his live show and so Deacon was resigned to performing onstage at the Bowery Ballroom.


Going to the late show of a double header was also dubious. Given the energy of his shows, it was unsurprising that his entire ensemble couldn’t keep up and some were performing on fumes, despite Devo-inspired jumpsuits. Deacon himself—repeatedly comparing the later show to previously successful gigs in Brooklyn and the night’s first show—was easily frustrated by the late crowd’s inability to follow his instructions for crowd participation and interactivity, lashing out, “Did I eat show poison before this?” While those in attendance put forth a fair amount of effort, Deacon was irked by the crowd’s ineptness (inebriation?) and his frequent substitute teacher-like berating cast an awkward shadow on the show at times.


Regardless, Deacon seems incapable of committing any wrong towards his fans. They danced, soliloquized, and jumped on command all night long, reveling in the throbbing mass of sound coming from onstage. But the late set took its toll. Exhausted from dancing to the ironic Enya and Lisa Loeb house music before the show, the crowd seemed drained by 3am. From Deacon’s questioning it sounded like many had been to all three of his shows over the weekend. The others must have been more coherent.  Songs like “Of The Mountains” and “Woof Woof” lacked the dynamic punches and gradations that so greatly enhance their recorded counterparts. Next time, I’ll have to make sure and catch him earlier in the night.



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Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Words and Pictures by Kirstie Shanley

It’s nearly impossible to understand why the Dears aren’t bigger than they are. Not only do they exude the same intense passion as their fellow Canadians, Arcade Fire, the group’s large membership allows them to create something powerful that is similarly rich with instrumentation. It’s a tour de force sound that could easily fill an arena.


While lineup changes over the past few years—including the unfortunate loss of guitarist Patrick Krief—may have hindered the group’s progress, they are back touring with members of indie band Pony Up and have gained a cohesiveness to support the strong songwriting and musicianship. The result is a live sound that translates the sense of desperation in their songs into something that is transcendent and powerful.


Over the course of the past decade, through four studio albums and two EPs, the one constant has been couple Murray Lightburn and Natalia Yanchak. There’s always been an on stage chemistry between the two, but this time around it was even stronger, with Yanchak leaving her keyboards to sing central next to Lightburn at one point during the set.


Lead singer Murray Lightburn clearly drives the songs and began by entering from the back of the stage in darkness, a sort of disembodied voice floating above the audience. As the set wore on, however, he made a more physical connection with the audience, at times even embracing various audience members.


Lightburn’s lyrics have always been wrought with conflict and though the Dears are touring to support their most recent 2008 release, Missiles, they made sure to acknowledge some of their older favorites such as “Lost in the Plot” and “We Can Have It” off of their treasured 2003 release, No Cities Left. Murray also acknowledged the matched fanaticism of the crowd by playing an encore to his 90-minute set. Though the band deserves to be playing much larger venues to more people, it’s clear their fans are an extremely dedicated bunch who understand how important it is to support them wherever they tour.



Tagged as: the dears
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Monday, May 18, 2009
Words and Pictures by Thomas Hauner

As the Roots slowly adjust to their new day job accompanying Jimmy Fallon and New York-centric lifestyle, their bi-weekly residency at the Highline Ballroom, “The Jam”, has become an unpredictable yet approachable setting to see the group in its element… at least elements of the group. This evening found only Black Thought, ?uestlove—the mainstays of the group—and bass player Owen Biddle leading an open mic night of sorts.


 


The late night set consisted of dozens of young, fledgling musicians sharing the stage with their musical heroes (many gave personal shout outs to the group and/or ?uestlove). It was unclear whether they were all alumni of the same performing arts academy as the Roots themselves (Philadelphia’s High School for Creative and Performing Arts) or just an assortment of their favorite up and coming rappers, vocalists, guitarists, horn players, and percussionists. Regardless, the sell out crowd was supportive and encouraging of the raw talent making its rounds on stage.


However the real story of the night was the stellar rhythm section holding the jam session together—that the Roots are one of music’s best rhythm sections should surprise no one. Naturally de facto music director of the Roots, ?uestlove, was at the helm, micromanaging the shuffling list of musicians from behind his drum kit and also calling out changes and key signatures to the other players. His ambidexterity is awesome, but his real talent is his ability in seamlessly transitioning and transposing multiple musical epochs into one fluid jam. He does it every night and I suspect his work on Late Night is only improving this skill. Along with ?uestlove, the celebrated songwriter and keyboard player James Poyser played back up. Perfectly in sync with ?uestlove the presence of Biddle, on six-string bass, rounded out the extremely adaptable and agile rhythm section.


Given that the Lonely Island (Andy Samberg’s comedy group) had performed on Late Night the previous evening, I was holding out hope that their collaboration with the Roots would spill over into the Highline gig. The band’s ephemeral sets are just another reason to keep coming back for more.



Tagged as: the roots
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Thursday, May 14, 2009
Words and Pictures by Kirstie Shanley

To say the Twlight Sad’s songs are intense would be a drastic understatement. The heartbreak is on the level of Shakespearean proportions. But while the band is clearly one of the most emotional out there in terms of songwriting, they don’t fit into any emo genre. It’s true that the Scottish quartet paint images of kids on fire in bedrooms (“That Summer At Home I Had Become the Invisible Boy”) and explore the drunken mind (“And She Would Darken the Memory”), but the bleakness of the lyrics is backed by a turbulent sound that touches on shoegaze at times.


Like the disarming lyrics, the delivery of lead singer James Graham’s vocals—both on record and live—has an intensity that is matched by very few. He caresses the microphone gently, but by the end of each set you feel as though he’s confided some of his deepest and darkest thoughts and experiences. There’s no calming peace as the music behind Graham builds to loud heights. The feeling of conflict in the air is augmented with Graham’s frantic drumming done on his knees to create a crashing effect. Despite this, the crucial element of what holds the songs together never fully dissolves and each climax seems a necessary conclusion.


What’s most surprising is the level of accomplishment in the songs. Most bands struggle through their first few albums to create something as completely alive as the Twilight Sad’s only full length to date Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters and still many never quite make an album this devastating. Likewise, it’s an unusual experience to witness something this honest live and the effect is truly memorable.



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