Recording review - Atomga, Black Belt (2015)

Razor sharp arrangements that find balance between the booty and the brain

^4.0/5.0

The sad truth is that studio tricks have leveled the playing field between barely capable musical clods and their more talented competition. A good engineer can make almost any band sound tight, with every pitch perfect note placed precisely on beat. That kind of work, though, leaves its fingerprints on the music. But listening to the interwoven horn parts and the hand-in-glove coordination between the bass and drums on Atomga’s full-length release, Black Belt, it’s clear that the recording engineers didn’t have sweeten these tracks; they just needed to capture the tightest of takes and focus on the mix. Their top-notch production brought the clarity to showcase everyone’s talent. Atomga has such a strong team ear for the groove that, even as they push themselves technically, the album never turns into a parade of egos. Instead, the album is packed with quiet epiphanies where you notice just how spot-on a particular part is.

Black Belt starts out appropriately enough with a brief musical kata that lets Atomga show off their Afrobeat form. Compared to any of Fela Kuti’s tracks, the instrumental “Salt and Pepper” is quite abbreviated, but it demonstrates the tight horn arrangements that the band is known for. The song starts out with a call and response between the horns and Casey Hrdlicka’s guitar exclamation points, but the verse changes gears and pits Alice Hansen’s trumpet against Frank Roddy’s and Leah Concialdi’s saxes. Then the tune takes it even higher with Concialdi locking into a hypnotic baritone sax riff that Hansen surfs cleanly over.

That introduction sets up a strong start to the album, where each track raises the bar. The second song, “Sly Devil”, is quite a bit moodier than the opener, with reggae and Latin influences creeping in. A simple guitar loop begins the tune, but it’s really all about the drums and percussion; they’re locked into the beat, but they never settle for simple repetition. The bass fits right in: relatively busy, but steady on. The horns contrast with the rhythmic complexity by holding longer tones -- the raspy caress of baritone sax is just about perfect. Kendra Kreie’s vocal is soulful and warm, even as her knowing tone makes it clear that she’s not buying the sly devil’s line. Peter Mouser’s organ solo is another treat as it slips into a beautifully retro Ray Manzarek style jam, reminiscent of the middle section of “Riders on the Storm”.

If “Sly Devil” is laid back with a bit of weary cynicism, my favorite track, “Cressidation”, is altogether heavier with powerful soul-gospel roots. Right from the start it’s more insistent, taking an anxious edge from the crisp, funky guitar chords, but the horns soften some of that tension. Concialdi swaggers through her solo with braggadocio, as if reassuring the nervous guitar. At first, Kreie's relaxed vocal seems a bit disengaged, but by the chorus, she picks up a righteous tone that closes the energy gap. Hrdlicka's jazzy solo is exquisitely phrased and I love how he plays just outside the lines. That sets up a dreamy interlude, where Samual Lafalce takes a richly melodic turn on bass before dropping some speedy funk runs. Hrlicka responds with a more aggressive second shot that ushers in the soulful chorus to take it home.

The rest of Black Belt carries on following the basic Afrobeat aesthetic that balances between the booty and brain. The feel-good music is danceable and blurs the lines between funk and jazz, but it’s also the medium for the songs’ socially conscious messages. Tracks like “Alaskan Pipeline” take advantage of that to provide cultural commentary, but the grooves defuse any risk of a hectoring tone.

If Black Belt has a flaw at all, it's that the clean production and razor sharp arrangements are almost too perfect. Not because of studio sleight of hand -- the songs are quite lively -- but more because the flow of smooth takes encourages the listener to take it all for granted. Without the risk of failure, the album misses some of the magical chaos that the band often finds onstage. Still, it’s a rare studio that can capture that kind of lightning. All in all, it's a fair trade.

Concert review - Atomga CD release party with openers

6 June 2015 (Bluebird Theater, Denver CO)

^4.25/5.0

Concert lineups often make for strange bedfellows, but honestly, how many African-influenced, horn-intensive dance bands are knocking around Denver for Atomga to partner with? Okay, there are probably a few, but this bill opted for a potpourri of acts to build up the energy. For the most part, this worked out well. Atomga drew a big, supportive crowd, happy to move to the music. They've just released their new album, Black Belt, this week and this was a first chance for many of us to hear these songs live.

The Bluebird was an intimate setting for the show. The stage was a little cramped with band equipment and personnel, but the band transitions went fairly smoothly and quickly. Throughout the course of the evening, though, the mixes were far from ideal. The instrumental balance for the first two acts left some of the players seeming superfluous because their parts were so hard to pick out. Also the vocals were a bit muddy and indistinct for everybody. The audience had no trouble hearing the beat, though, and moving along.

Pete Pidgeon and Arcoda

Arcoda might have seemed like the odd band out: their retro-tuned Americana didn't have any horns and they only had a paltry four members. All true, but Pete Pidgeon and his group proved to be the perfect aperitif for the night. Pidgeon looks like he should be heading up one of those early '70s California rock bands, like the Eagles. Their set didn't settle for a peaceful, easy feeling, though. While the first song was relatively laid back, his cover of Bob Dylan's "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You" got things going with a tempo that was more upbeat than the live Rolling Thunder Revue version. Adam Revell's keyboard work recalled Billy Preston's soulful accompaniment, giving the tune a funky drive. Pidgeon's tight pedal tone guitar lines were buried in the mix, especially by the fat punch of the drums, but when they shone through, they sounded great.


The band largely deferred to Pidgeon, letting his expressive presence take center stage, and he had the confident spark to own it. Aside from that Dylan cover, most of the material seemed to be original, and Pidgeon inhabited the songs. As he and Arcoda deftly handled the dynamic musical shifts, his body language choreographed the intensity of the songs. Even though this was a very different groove than we'd hear for the rest of the night, the band's tunes did find enough funky rhythms to fit in, even when they shifted into a more modern indie rock style. I look forward to catching these guys at another show. I know they're playing at the Fox in Boulder next weekend.

Human Agency

On the surface, Human Agency should have been a smoother fit on the bill. Unlike Arcoda, they had a horn section and their heavy drum beats tapped into a dance friendly space. Unfortunately, their set never really gelled and they lacked the stage presence to engage the audience. To be fair, it turns out that this isn't really the group's usual milieu; normally, they're an electronic dance trio with a pair of DJ/sound engineers and a live drummer. In that world, the shoegaze focus on the equipment would be perfectly fine. Incorporating the brass and a guest guitarist for this show provided some protective coloration, but the amorphous repetition couldn't hide that they were out of their element.


The side players integrated in fairly well, responding to signals so breaks and endings were tightly synched, but there wasn't enough structure to suggest more than just some horns jamming along to a pre-recorded backing track. The muddy mix did them no favors; the turntablist may have had more technique than a transformer scratch and a bit of chopping, but it was impossible to tell. Even the horns alternated between blaring and anemic. The drums were the only instrument that consistently stood out. The good news is that Jonas Otto was a phenomenal player. Locked into his own world with eyes shut and headphones tight, he nonetheless nailed every tag and dismount.


Listening to Human Agency's Soundcloud page, they do have some decent tracks. I recognized some of "Half Plug" from the show, but the recording had nuances that we couldn't begin to hear at the Bluebird. They did provide a buffer between Pete Pidgeon's set and the horn heavy sound later, but it proved to be more filler than filling.

Dirty Bourbon River Show

About five minutes into Dirty Bourbon River Show's set, I realized I was face to face with my newest performance nightmare: the thought of having to walk on stage after this band and their madcap circus dance music. Aside from being great players, all of these guys are very visual, with the king of the crew being frontman Noah Adams. Adams had a thick, scary beard that three mountain men could easily timeshare, but he was also one of the most electric performers I've seen in quite a while. His sense of showmanship and magnetic personality were almost unnerving. While he mostly played keyboards, he had a couple of surprises up his sleeve. including a pocket trumpet and a miniature soprano trombone, so we were never sure what else he might do. He and the band knew how to work the crowd up and manage their energy.


DBRS opened with the Eastern European gypsy jazz of their song, "Wolfman" and Adams embodied the character, taunting and challenging the crowd. This was a strong start, but he showed that he could bring that same intensity to a more serious tune on the drag blues of "Esmerelda" from their recent album, Important Things Humans Should Know. As the band wound their way from these sounds through Dixieland turns to funky grooves, the overall sense was a mix of Dark Carnival and danceable funk. Several times during their set, a couple of the players referenced "Entry of Gladiators" in their solos to cement that sense -- if you imagine a circus song, that's almost certainly the one you're thinking of -- but, despite the sardonic humor, DBRS was no novelty act.


Instead, they're like a high quality party band pumped up to Major League level, but leavened with just the right amount of quirky weirdness to keep the audience off balanced and intrigued. Adam's rough growl was more than balanced by backing vocalist Sandra Love, who drifted on and off stage to add her seductively soulful voice as needed. Regardless of who was singing, though, DBRS was always swinging. The crowd's dancing and cheers were all the encouragement the band needed.


As much as I enjoyed Adams' musical romps from keys to accordion to trumpet, I was most impressed with their boss of the bottom end, Jimmy Williams. Williams divided his time between the electric bass and the sousaphone (and a one-off flute line). At one point, he muscled his way through a tight walking run of 16th notes on the sousaphone, maintaining the rolling rumble of bass notes without missing a beat or looking out of breath. Given that the band is from New Orleans and this was in the Mile High City, that was an impressive feat!


At the end of their set, after the flashy drum solo on a full kit and extension ladder, DBRS finally took it home with their last song, but even then, they sprung a twist. They dragged out the ending with a final loose meandering riff that suddenly transformed into a quick reprise of their opening tune. Adams is indeed the Wolfman, and we cannot stop him.

Atomga

A lesser band might have worried about being upstaged by Dirty Bourbon River Show's manic set, but Atomga was unflappable as they set up for their turn. They were clearly excited to deliver the goods to the nearly sold out house. Everyone found their position on the darkened stage and, after a brief amount of preparation, a simple horn line coalesced into a steady vamp with everyone falling into place. In standard Afrobeat fashion, they took the time to assemble and set that groove until it became a foundation for wider exploration. This was actually a good model for the show as a whole, because the first several songs stayed on familiar ground before the group started digging into their new material.


By the second tune -- "Empire", from their eponymous EP -- Atomga were playing wholly in the moment, finding that shared space were everything just flowed: Frank Roddy's hand offs to Leah Concialdi's baritone sax were effortless and natural, singer Kendra Kreie's voice was soulful with an iron core, and the drums and percussionists toyed with syncopation, inciting the crowd to movement. It's hard to identify the exact moment that it happens in a given show, but there's always a tipping point where it's not just music, but an invitation to hypnotic, ecstatic dance.


Atomga's dedication to the groove and to the joy of their music eliminated any sense of competition with DBRS or any of the other acts. As always, it's a treat to witness the band's interdependent yin-yang aesthetic: their arrangements are tightly coordinated, but it's just as important to them to have fun up there and leave room for improvisation. Roddy and Concialdi were focal points, as usual, but everyone in the band brought their own zest to the show, whether it was Alice Hansen's energetic trumpet riffs, Casey Hrdlicka ripping through a wah-wah driven minor key solo, or Peter Mouser's classic psychedelic organ work.


Everybody pulled their weight, but if there was an MVP for the night, it was Samual Lafalce on bass, who was amazing. Apparently in honor of the title of the new album, he wore a karate gi and black belt. Although he stuck to the back line, he put on his own show, mugging for the crowd with a melodramatic scowl (and twinkling eyes) and hamming it up with rock star poses. His campy pantomime was eye-catching, but it was even better to surrender to his expertly fashioned bass lines that locked into fine-tolerance perfection. His playing was central to setting up the backdrop for the rest of the band to work against, especially on the new tunes.


Speaking of the new album, the setlist included some real gems that I'm looking forward to hearing again. I think my favorite was "Sly Devil", which set up a kind of reggae groove with Hrdlicka's guitar swaying through the chords rather than hitting a straight chank. Lafalce's bass provided a subtle bounce as Roddy's lazy, meandering sax work wound over the beat, but really everybody had the chance to contribute key elements to the intricately assembled whole. Kreie's vocal line reflected the relaxed mood of the sax groove, but the challenging vocal mix made it hard to catch the lyrics in detail. What I could discern sounded political in a similar vein to "Empire".


Aside from all the musical fun, Atomga also celebrated Black Belt's release with their own party clowns for this show. Their "bubble brigade" filled the hall and they also tossed inflatable beach ball creatures out into the crowd. The only thing missing from this baby shower was a diaper cake. Check back here soon for a full length review of Black Belt, but in the meantime, if you get the chance to catch Atomga, jump on it: they continue to be one of the best live acts in Denver.


More photos on my Flickr. Also Black Belt is available on Atomga's bandcamp page.

What's cool? Moodoïd, Heavy Metal Be Bop 2

And now for something completely different...

If Fark.com has taught us anything, it's that the Japanese are the masters of WTF video. Other countries may throw their hats in the ring, but they seldom offer any threat to the reigning kings. Now Parisian Pablo Padovani (AKA Moodoïd) has risen to the challenge with "Heavy Medal Be Bop 2". To be fair, his video lacks the innocent inscrutability that is the hallmark of Japanese TV, but it's such a hot mess that it overcomes that hurdle with ease. It's become a truism that things can be "so bad they're good," but there's never any doubt that the word "good" is always in air quotes. This video is a veritable double rainbow of campy perfection. I flip-flopped from bad to good so many times during this song, that my sense of irony got whiplash.



Imagine if Andy Warhol, Devo, Lady Gaga, and John Waters went off on a drug binge and had a contest to make the most absurd music video ever. Even if you have trouble with that, Padovani not only imagined it, but he took notes, threw their ideas into a blender, and then made the damn thing. Bizarre fashion, twisted sci-fi surrealism, '80s pop video deconstruction -- "Heavy Metal Be Bop 2" has it all and then some.

The tight, uptempo abstract jazz section at the start doesn't just reference his father, saxophonist Jean-Marc Padovani, but it even bolsters the younger Padovani's essential French credibility. That interlude doesn't last long, as he abruptly pulls an about-face to lay down a chill pop-funk groove. The jazz elements come back later to support a stylized sax solo later in the song. That, along with the muddle of the two genres, suggest why he named the piece in tribute to the Brecker Brothers' Heavy Metal Bebop, but despite the juxtaposition of outside jazz and pop, music is fairly tame compared to the imagery he's chosen. Truth be told, I enjoy his guitar work with Melody's Echo Chamber more than "Heavy Metal Be Bop 2", but the video is so entertaining that all is forgiven.

Concert review - That 1 Guy

2 January 2015 (Hodi's Half Note, Ft. Collins CO)
^4.5/5.0

Superstition claims that whatever you do at the start of the new year will drive the rest of the year, so people fill up their cupboards, wear new clothes, and clear their debts to ensure prosperity. I'm skeptical, but I do think that doing the things you enjoy will help cement those patterns in place. So, I visited with friends on New Year's Day and made it out to Hodi's for the first available show of the year to see That 1 Guy.

That 1 Guy

The last time I saw That 1 Guy (AKA Mike Silverman) at Hodi's, he had Captain Ahab's Motorcycle Club (Cory McAbee) opening and his own show had grown to include a flashy dual-screen multimedia element (review). Last night's outing was a bit stripped down; there was no lead-off act and the screens were gone. It might have been nice to have someone warm up the audience, because the two hour interval between the doors opening and showtime had the crowd a little restive. We had to make do with Captain Beefheart's Safe as Milk and Frank Zappa's Apostrophe/Over-nite Sensation blaring from the club PA (along with a few tracks from David Bowie's "Heroes"). On the other hand, the simpler stage presence worked in That 1 Guy's favor. The animations and camera tricks had been fun, but without those distractions, Silverman held the audience rapt for more than two hours straight, making up for the long wait.


As always, That 1 Guy put on a stunning performance, juggling synth riff triggers, foot-tap drumming, and the mix of percussion and melody demanded by his one-of-a-kind Magic Pipe. Watching him play is hypnotic. He rocks from side to side as he lays down the drums, all while building a full harmonic sound on the strings mounted to the two sections of pipe. The mix ranges from bass heavy grooves and cello style bowing to distorted guitar-like tones and the warm feel of marimba. Putting this all together has to require crazy amounts of practice and concentration, but Silverman not only makes it look fairly easy, he throws in pantomime, clowning, and sleight of hand tricks to make it more entertaining.


This stage work key to Silverman's charm: a meaty slap sound effect accent for the song is illustrated by a mimed punch or flick of his hat brim or his duck puppet is voiced by a squeak tone from the Magic Pipe. This all fits together with the quirky nature of his music and lyrical themes. like "Step Into Striped Light", "Mustaches", or "Weasel Potpie". As silly and playful as it can get, though, the songs are never throwaway. The heavy poly-rhythms are perfect for dancing and the lyrics have plenty of hooks for the crowd to join in on.


As expected, That 1 Guy featured several songs from his latest release, Poseidon's Deep Water Adventure Friends (review), tweaked for live performance. In particular, his arrangement of "Whale Race" developed a rich character of synth-driven post rock that fit well with the exotic minor key scales of the piece. Of course, many of the crowd favorites made their appearance, too, from an intensely danceable "Ft. Collins remix" of "Buttmachine" to "The Moon is Disgusting", which he eased into slowly before letting it become the audience sing-along it usually is.


That 1 Guy was a perfect show to start the year off. Technically impressive, his show blended intellectual fun with insistent visceral grooves. Most of the crowd was already very familiar with his catalog, but he still managed to throw in some surprises. Playing in the moment, he reacted naturally to everything from song requests and losing a drum stick, to a woman's demand that he wear her tutu. Acquiescing to this last request, he might have been our puppet, but he owned it by incorporating it into the song. Most importantly, he reflected the crowd's energy with a grateful appreciation for our attention. We, in turn, were just as beholden to him.



More photos on my Flickr.

Recording review - Rene Lopez, Love Has No Mercy (2014)

Feel the funk with mirror ball beats 


Rene Lopez continues spiraling in on his idealized target of electric Latin soul. His last release, Paint the Moon Gold,veered away from the funk to lurch toward R&B pop. On his new EP, Love Has No Mercy, '70s pop has given way to the hybridized disco funk of that same era. The album isn't a one trick pony, but Lopez is more dedicated to club-style rhythms on this release. The first half explores this borderland with a series of tracks that wrestle with co-dependence, love withheld, and unbalanced relationships."I Won't Love You Less" lies directly between the two genres. The sparse arrangement, the harmony vocals, and ringing keyboard fills are like the bright, spinning reflections of a mirror ball, while the crisp rhythm guitar suggests the chill nonchalance of Bowie's Thin White Duke and the steady, syncopated beat has a foot in both worlds. The choppy guitar bobs and weaves with nervous energy and Lopez's voice is strained to a falsetto whisper as he sings his unconditional love. His serene tone suggests that he's an ecstatic martyr to his chosen one's fickle whim: "You can lie and cheat and leave me cold / I won't love you less, I won't love you less / you can throw your stones and break my bones /I won't love you less, I won't love you less." From here, he wanders through electro-pop dance beats and Latin flavored disco before reaching my favorite track on the album.

The title tune is a duet with Carol C , and the two create a playful interaction that frames the song as a debate between the sexes. They share the chorus tagline, but the verses show how far apart they are. Drawn like moths to the flame, the two can only agree that, "Your love has no mercy, but I like it." After the break that summarizes the positions as, "Love-lust and love-love," Lopez takes a pseudo-rap turn,speak-singing his way through his lines with an expressive tone that maintains a nuanced tension. Meanwhile, the track is anchored by a snaking baseline and fenced in by stereophonic flickers of choppy guitar. Between the volley of vocal exchanges and the insistent dance beat, "Love Has No Mercy" is Lopez at his best.

From here, Lopez settles into a chain of solid funk pieces, with the fun attitude of "Lovegod", the Prince driven ''City Streets Are Dead Tonight", and the loopy electro funk of "Show Your Light". These are all strong, dance-friendly songs, but none of them follow a set formula. Even better,
Lopez adapts his singing style to each tune to flesh out the right character. Love Has No Mercy is another step towards perfecting his vision of electric Latin soul. The Latin element may be a bit restrained compared to earlier releases,but the music still calls you to surrender to the syncopation and dance.

Coming attractions - Backbeat Soundsytem

Do you feel lucky?

Trust is absolutely vital, especially when it comes to our culture-rich. We're in the middle of a golden age of music; there are hundreds of small independent labels and countless unaffiliated bands releasing albums and singles. That's the good news. The bad news is that it can be ridiculously hard to find know what's worth bothering with, given the overabundance of choices. That's where trust comes in. Maybe you've found critics or hipster outlets that you depend on to filter through it all. Aside from the set of artists I follow closely, there are a couple of independent record labels that have never steered me wrong.

Easy Star Records, home of the Easy Star All-Stars, is one of those. Aside from the All-Stars' reggae cover albums, which are exquisite, they produce a collection of strong artists like Passafire, The Green, and John Brown's Body. The latest addition is Backbeat Soundsystem, who demonstrate that strong rhythms and solid chank can thrive in the U.K. The band's label debut, Together Not Apart, has just released and Easy Star is sharing tracks from the new album.

Two of these, "Fighting Bull" and Hey Girl", offer two different sides of the band's skills. I like both, but "Fighting Bull" hits my sweet spot a little harder. The band lays down a funky reggae groove, with a marching bass throb and horn punch accents. The conscious lyrics are right up front, surfing the beat. The production mixes things up, with some light dub moments and synthesizer vamps. "Hey Girl" goes for a poppier feel, with a nice R&B vocal line, but still spices it up with some toasting flow. This time, the keys frost the edges of the tune with old-school tones that reach back some 40 years to the heady days of dance club funk.



If you dig feel-good reggae at all, Backbeat Soundsystem deserves a listen. Trust me.

Concert review - Punch Drunk Munky Funk with Miscomunicado

28 August 2014 (Hodi's Half Note, Ft. Collins CO)

In recent years, the "Phish pre-show party" has become a thing. In the days before Phish is due to play, bars in nearby towns throw some jam bands onstage and try to capitalize on the fans' excitement. Without naming names, I've been to a few of these and generally found them to be disappointing because the bands aren't a good fit or they just don't have the chops. This show at Hodi's served up a strong counterargument to my lack of enthusiasm. Both Punch Drunk Munky Funk and their opener, Miscomunicado, put on strong shows and made it a great summer evening of music, regardless of the space-time proximity of Phish's tour schedule.

Miscomunicado

As much as I enjoy catching bands I love, one of the best thing about writing these reviews is that I am exposed to music I might never have otherwise come across. Opening acts can make or break the total show experience, so some people play it safe and show up fashionably late, just in time for the headliner. Anybody running that strategy for this show missed a very interesting band. Miscomunicado juxtaposed a few standard ideas into a strange, but cool band configuration. Drawing from electronic acts and hip hop, they relied on laptop driven tracks for the foundation beats and bass. But instead of MCs or turntablists filling out the group, they had a two-pronged guitar attack that expanded the sound into deep-space funk. Rounding out the performance, their live projection artist, skEYEfi, provided a psychedelic visual accompaniment.


Luke Barone jump started the show with a solid funk groove. Dan Scott Forreal and James Hodgkins quickly joined in with their guitars, pushing the tune into trippier dimensions. The music had a strong improvisational looseness, but the backing rhythm maintained the structure. From song to song, Barone controlled the main mood via his pre-recorded chunklets. The guitars added riff-driven, heady accents for the jam. Barone had the flexibility to extend and mutate the backing, so they could milk the pieces for maximum effect. While several of the songs were instrumentals, Forreal and Hodgkins sang some of the time. For the most part, these were funk style sloganeering -- repetitive vocal accents that could provide a bit of context for the song -- but they also had some lyrics that rose above that simple role.


While Miscomunicado's music was anchored in improvisational funk, it was usually cross-pollinated with dance pop, electronica, uptempo rock, or psychedelic fringes. This meant that each song had its own character. The projection work adapted to the mood, taking advantage of found footage and movie clips or abstract kaleidoscopic patterns and animations. Given that the art was the primary source of stage lighting, that made it a supreme challenge to get good pictures, but the live experience is pretty fun.

Punch Drunk Munky Funk

My introduction to Punch Drunk Munky Funk was the "Funk Your Face Off" show earlier this summer at The Mishiwaka. Their set impressed me then because they were undeniably capable of launching out into creative musical sojourns, but their impressively focused rhythm section anchored the songs. That tight-loose dichotomy lies at the heart of the best jam bands and this made PDMF a good fit for the whole Phish pre-show theme. But from the beginning of this show, the band wasn't going to leave any doubt. An amorphous lead-in created a trippy mood that opened the door for Chris Robbiano's bass heavy funk groove, and it quickly became clear that this was their version of Phish's "Down With Disease".


Keyboard player Mike Givens handled the vocal duties, doing a passable job of sounding like Trey Anastasio, while Alex Boivin showed that he had the guitar part well in hand. Switching adeptly between sharp funk chordlets and more flowing jazz melodies, he held court at center stage. While Phish can easily make the tune last a good 20 to 30 minutes, PDMF didn't drag it out as long, but it was a solid jam that pumped up the crowd.


The band went on to play some of their own music, including one of my favorite tunes, "Double Richard". "Double Richard, you found your twin/ A dose of Siamese peace within," the oblique lyrics became a mantra, backed by a cheerful march beat before the band sprang off into well-paced melodic exploration. They'd go on to round out the set with servings of disco funk, jazz (both spacey and cool), and even a bit of folky jam. This stylistic meandering let the band demonstrate their versatility between getting down and dirty on the beat and leaving more breathing room in the mix.


After a brief intermission, they came out for the second set, where they pretty much became a Phish tribute band. "Down With Disease" had gone so well, but let's face it, Phish is not an easy band to imitate in longer form. Most aspirants don't have the technical skills to sustain a full set, and those that do, often get there by slavishly recreating the originals. Either way, tribute bands usually leave me pining for the real thing rather than satisfied. Punch Drunk Munky Funk's second set broke that pattern about the time they slipped into their cover of "Stash". Boivin casually tossed off the trademark opening guitar riff and the rest of the band joined in, staying fairly true to the original: the tight percussion fills and electric piano vamps perfectly hit their marks as they supported the guitar line. The crowd loved it, providing the staccato claps on cue to help out the percussion. The band went on to make the tune their own, with the band members showing off their abilities without merely imitating Trey and company.


Michelle Pietrafitta's drumming, which blew me away at The Mish, was equally amazing here. She could find space to nestle some impressive open fills within her tight snare and high hat work. This relaxed the beat just enough to create both tension and a sense of inevitability as the beat, never lost, reasserted itself. Similarly, while the mix didn't always accentuate his contribution, Robbiano's bass playing helped drive the dynamics of the songs, drifting between flashy punch and bubbling melodic lines.


The set was packed with classic Phish tunes, with "Punch You In The Eye" and "Mike's Song" being standout moments. By the time it was done, I was flying with their versions of the songs, feeling little need to listen to the real band on the ride home. The encore performance of "Also Sprach Zarathustra" (AKA "2001") was just icing on the cake. This was a different side of the band compared to their Funk Your Face Off performance, but I'm eager now to hear what else they can do.


More photos on my Flickr.

Recording review - Analog Son, Analog Son (2014)

Old school jazz funk that's tighter than spray-on jeans

Wakka-wakka-wakka: that's the sound of the way-back machine transporting us across the decades, back to the golden era of jazz funk. lf I close my eyes it's like Lucky Peterson, the Average White Band, and the Atlanta Rhythm Section are all in their prime and a new, up-and-coming crew is stepping up to join their ranks. On their self-titled release, Analog Son lays down a solid, horn-heavy funk groove and never let a single hair slip out of place. That tightly polished sound is the band's greatest strength but it's also their Achilles heel. The songs are incredibly danceable and smoothly executed, but I miss that dirty, crazy edge that would take it to the next level. I'm thinking of those spark moments where P-Funk could let the party get out of control, where Herbie Hancock might launch into the unknown, or more recently, where Garaj Mahal would slip into a free -form chaotic interlude. Still, on ''A Trip Around The Son", Analog Son does challenge this critique with a slight counter-argument in the form of a wah-wah driven horn solo that cross-dresses itself as a guitar jam. The solo builds into heavier drive that is led by a circling guitar reclaiming its place before letting the original groove reassert itself. It's a cool party trick that gives a good indication of how much fun this band would likely be in a club setting.

While the playing is top-notch on all of these tunes, vocalist Devon Parker's soulful singing injects a welcome dose of personality on the three non-instrumental tracks. Of these,"Struttin'" is the hottest. The funk is strong, with the intricate mesh of bass nod, horn punches, wah-wah guitar, and organ fills . But Parker's cocky attitude provides the necessary swagger to embody the title. She also creates a call-and-response interplay with the backing vocals.

Of the instrumental pieces, "Swervantes" is my favorite, mostly because the restless mutagenic flow offers up plenty of surprises as different players come to the forefront. The best moment is the spacey, drifting bridge in the middle of the song. I like the contrasting lead guitar styles and the moody organ washes.

I'll be keeping an eye out for Analog son, because I want to compare their stage presence with the precision of their studio sound. I have no doubts that they'll deliver the technical chops, but I'm hoping for a more playful feel that taps into the fun that lies at the heart of funk.

In the meantime, drop by their bandcamp page for a taste a chance to get the album.