Grown Up Music

The Luciana Souza Trio, featuring Cyro Baptista, played Jazz at Lincoln Center last Thursday, April 23rd. The set was a collection of Luciana's originals (some from her popular "Brazilian Duos") and some traditional Brazilian folk tunes. Each rendition had Luciana's classy touch, unique composition and, obviously, her silky voice.

And let's not forget ol' Cyro, who added so much energy to the set that people were giggling in their seats with excitement. He hopped around (sometimes literally) between different percussion instruments, from the brazilian berimbau (a seriously crazy instrument!) to a squeaky toy (used to imitate birds in the jungle) and on to a very normal-looking tambourine, which he played with such exubrance and ease that it was almost an alien extension of himself.

Souza's guitarist, Romero Lubambo, was no slouch, either. He danced around in the harmonic range quite a bit (a difficult thing for even really talented guitarists) and played with a lot of feeling! And he worked in a variety of styles that night, busting out phrases that resonated independently with pop feeling and distinctly Brazilian harmonies.

This was a great show and I'm glad I had the opportunity to see three such wonderfully talented artists in action. Do yourself a favor and listen to some Luciana Souza. You will not be disappointed.

Men and Women

Webster Hall hosted the likes of Beach House and The Walkmen last night. To be honest, I wasn't sure I'd like the show. The Walkmen strike me as a "wave your dick around and celebrate your manhood!" kind of band and my first listen to Beach House left me feeling depressed. But, maybe I was having an off day, because these two bands played their butts off last night and I left wanting to buy all their records.

From: http://www.beachhousemusic.net/Beach_House/Shop.html

The duo that make up Beach House - Victoria Legrand (vocals, organ) and Alex Scally (guitar, keyboards), plus the occasional percussionist - create a wide-open, dreamy sound. Legrand's husky, haunting voice whispers, leaps and crawls, like a living thing. It is the stuff of sighing scenes in indie romance movies where the end must come and you know it will. You also know that someone will die and you will cry, but you will leave feeling hopeful. Meaning: it's not so much depressing as it is kind of sad but also life-affirming. It's just dreamy! Legrand's organ adds to the surreal, gossamer quality of the music, and Scally's guitar almost acts as another voice. I was entranced, trying to figure out how he made it sing. Whatever he is doing, it's beautiful.

From: http://www.brooklynvegan.com/archives/2009/02/the_walkmen_to.html

The Walkmen came on stage with a huge brass section - easily seven pieces. It was impressive. They started out with a bang, riling up the crowd of mostly men. I was pleasantly surprised by their energy. The drummer, Matt Barrick, was so much fun to watch. His energy was infectious and he worked so hard - with a big smile on his face - that it was like he had six arms. And Hamilton Leithauser put on a great show. He's a personable lead singer with a ton of character. He grabs the mic like it's alive, waiting to be tamed. And his throaty howl is arresting! I loved it! Finally, props to Paul Maroon, who rocked out on both a steel-stringed Gretsch and an upright piano and to Peter Bauer, who spent most of the concert concentrating over a tiny organ. This band - all men except Leithhauser's future wife, who plays trumpet - did not make me feel like I had to have a dick to appreciate it. As my dude said, "It's thinking mens' music." Or thinking people, as it were.

Overall, a terrific show at Webster Hall last night. The Antlers opened, but I unfortunately missed their set. Next time.

Neko and Nokia

From http://www.bloodshotrecords.com/album/middle-cyclone

From http://www.gabrielmichael.com/uploaded_images/timessq19-782809.jpg

I wouldn't necessarily say that Neko Case sold out by playing the commercial-soaked Nokia Theater in Times Square on Monday night, because she has none of the attitude of a sell-out. That's good for her, because the space and the uber-marketing that envelopes you and oozes down the walls feels a little slimy. Instead, Case and her band put on an intimate yet vivacious show.

I'd never seen Case's brand of what I'd call bluegrass pop (or is it alt-country?) live, but I was really happy to listen to her tunes. Neko's voice is clear - as a bell, as the saying goes - with sweetness and serious power behind it. And her band, with the lilting guitar, banjo, easy but steady percussion, and other vocals transported me out of the hell that is Times Square. (I'm a native New Yorker. So sue me!) In fact, I'm kind of proud of her that she was able to convey such a friendly, sweet vibe despite the Disney-fied creepiness of the place.

What do I mean by that? Well, the rules were pretty annoying. First, the bouncers insisted on holding my camera until the end of the show. After I promised I would store it in my checked coat they insisted on sending some apathetic guard to escort me to the coat check. She waited a few seconds while I stood on line, tried to look mildly interested and then trotted back upstairs. So much for the rules. I took that as my cue and headed for the bar, coat AND camera in hand, to buy a $7 billion Bud and watch the show.

So, in summary: Neko Case was very, very good. I would like to see her again, but next time in a smaller venue. Nokia, you can keep your rules. Good day to you!