Ah, El Ten Eleven. The instrumental rock duo, Kristian Dunn (double necked guitars) and Tim Fogarty (drums), put out such engaging music that it still surprises me that they aren’t playing larger venues. However, those who have heard them will return to show after show when they get a chance. And it was surprising that the New York area had a chance when the band came to Maxwell’s in Hoboken for one short night in early 2012. The band had made some last minute decisions to do a tour along the east coast following a string of dates on the west coast and through SXSW.

The tail end of opener Busy P’s set did not give any suggestion as to what Justice had in store for their sold out shows at Terminal 5 in New York on March 16th. The audience was still meandering in while Busy P played some indie / rock songs to hype up the crowd. Justice, however, are not the mainstream. They aren’t even part of the mainstream dubstep or rock trends in electronic music. This French DJ duo put together songs with a bit of artistry and a bit of drama like their fellow countrymen, Daft Punk. The audience, anticipating a heavy hitting set of tracks from the albums † and Audio, Video, Disco were not wearing neon, fuzzy boots or waving glow sticks. This wasn’t a club night, this was was the start of the electronic producers Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay’s first US tour in two years, and the first since the release of Audio, Video, Disco.

To use a cliché, pianist Robert Glasper wears many hats. He oscillates between his jazz trio, his “experiment,” and a demanding schedule as a premier sideman (Maxwell) and session player (Common, Q-Tip, the Roots)—Wednesday’s hat was a black fleece, by the way. He is thusly described as operating at the nexus of hip hop and jazz, heralded as a vanguard. It often seems this intersection balances upon Glasper himself. However, Glasper is the first to shun such lionizing. In a recent NPR interview, when asked about jazz’s old guard criticizing his position as an innovator, he emphasized the form’s dynamism. “I’m doing what ‘Trane and Miles were doing. I’m doing what Herbie does”. In other words, he is simply doing what any honest jazz musician would do—experimenting with new sounds. The conservationist attitude embodied by the jazz community, “kill[s] the alive to praise the dead”, he says. By ossifying, jazz is killing itself. It’s a stinging rebuke, but less so when delivered in his jovial demeanor.

Following their Lundi Gras show and post-show Mardi Gras celebration, Galactic found their way up to New York City’s Terminal 5 to share some of the funk in a colder climate. Openers the Soul Rebels Brass Band and Steel Pulse got the party started around 8 and the headliners were on around 10:45. Of course, everyone was invited, and it wasn’t long before Corey Glover and the Soul Rebels came on stage to help keep the music flowing.

“Is there any artist,” asked Keith Sewell, mandolin and guitar player to Lyle Lovett, “more gracious with the spotlight?” At this point in the evening, two-plus hours into the show, the answer was tacit. Sewell was lent the spotlight for one song, just as Lovett had done with each of his other guests (Kat Evanston, Sean and Sara Watkins, formerly of Nickel Creek, Luke Bulla, and Arnold McCuller). The Tuesday evening performance at the New York Society for Ethical Culture, backed by his acoustic group (John Hagen, Russ Kunkel, Viktor Krauss, Bulla, and Sewell) was in support of his latest record, Release Me. This was a natural reflection of the amalgamated album; it pairs reworked standards (“Baby, It’s Cold Outside”) with reclaimed ones (“White Freightliner Blues”) as well as some new compositions (“Release Me”). Jesse Winchester’s “Isn’t That So” was especially powerful with Arnold McCuller singing next to Lovett—a regular in his Large Band. The natural harmonies of Sara and Sean Watkins also attached themselves like Velcro to Lovett and Sewell’s trained lines. Lovett’s pared-down, slower version of “Brown Eyed Handsome Man” brought the song’s internal tensions to the forefront, while still sounding light. And always ramblingly appreciative of an enthusiastic crowd, Lovett reciprocated his thanks with “If I had a Boat” and “North Dakota”, before somberly ending with “Closing Time”. If nothing else, a Lovett show reveals the songwriter’s humility, and charm. At the same time, it reminds listeners of his remarkable consistency, craft, and scope.