You know that feeling where music completely sweeps you away? Time ceases to exist, the worries of the world evaporate, and you just want to drive with no destination. It keeps happening to me every time I listen to Kyle Ledson’s new album, Left it All Behind. The songs visit me in my dreams and then dance through my head immediately upon waking. That says something, doesn’t it? There’s more going on here than meets the ear. What we’re talking about is an instant classic which should answer any question about who’s the hottest new star in the bluegrass universe.
Technically Ledson isn’t exactly a new thing. He released his debut album – Crooked Mandolin – in 2016. He’s appeared onstage with a wide array of well-respected bands. Now at the ripe old age of 19, the kid has become a man and is clearly ready to enter the big leagues. Is it uncommon to possess this sort of talent on mandolin and flatpicking guitar at his age? Extremely so. Pair that with heartfelt, wide-ranging vocal abilities and he’s catapulted even further into rarified air. However, the element that gets me the most excited is his songwriting prowess. As you listen to the 12 tracks on the album, it is stupefying to consider that he wrote all but three of them.
The list of people who have written heavy weight material at his age is a short one. It’s not so easy to write convincingly about that which you have yet to experience. It’s doubtful Ledson has actually done much running from the law, dealt with real heartache or worn out his hands at the factory. His unwavering sincerity makes us believe he’s lived the equivalent of several lifetimes. These songs leap off the ledge with the urgency of this moment while seeming chiseled in stone with timeless resonance. They follow the textbook of classic songwriting while injecting a soulfulness which can’t be taught.
It helps that he’s going to battle here with a squadron of players who couldn’t be better suited to the task. Almost every track features different groupings of all-star personnel and the chemistry is off the charts. That wouldn’t count for so much if it wasn’t matched by the production. His old pal Nat Keefe of Hot Buttered Rum was the lead producer with Ledson also sharing credit. The real wizardry came through the engineering and mixing from Oz Fritz (Tom Waits, Oysterhead) and Danielle Goldsmith. Listen to this in your car, your house or especially on headphones and the attention to detail is vibrantly illuminated. They were able to capture that thing so many artists strive to achieve: an album which taps into the energy of a live performance coupled with the lush, full-bodied elegance of the studio.
Ben Kaufmann’s upright bass (Yonder Mountain String Band) graces seven of these tracks and you’ll rarely hear the majesty of this instrument recorded more beautifully. His nimble, low-end manipulations are a key undercurrent in the outlaw saga “The Bend.” Ledson and Domenici escalate the action until it rapidly builds to a boil and our protagonist makes a clean getaway down the Ohio River. Yes, the imagery is rich and relatable. A couple songs later these three are joined by fiddle player Zebulon Bowles for a rapid-fire romp through “Wait Until the Sun Comes Out.” This caps off one of the most blistering first halves of an album anyone could aspire to.
Rewind to track three – “No Footprints” – and we find ourselves navigating a more exotic, seductive mood. The curtain is pulled back by a high-pitched mandolin riffing on a jazzy lick reminiscent of David Grisman. Then an ethereal pedal steel melts through the fog and we realize we’re in unicorn country. That’s where the unmistakable, soaring handiwork of Dan “Lebo” Lebowitz tends to reside. Whoa…there’s drums too? Yes, that’s Ezra Lipp bringing the heat along with bassist Steve Adams (all three are members of ALO). Together with Ledson they launch into the stratosphere both on this song and “Meant to Be” (the latter sans Lebo). Both epitomize Ledson’s extraordinarily advanced development as a songwriter and arranger. These are deep concepts he’s exploring. Things that could make people feel less alone. Most importantly, these songs are bursting with emotion. You can’t help but care.
The B side of the album, so to speak, shifts gears where you might think for a second that it’s venturing into cliché bluegrass territory. Think again! It’s just Ledson and his pickers paying tribute to the giants who walked before them while emblazoning their names in the book. Nothing is capable of being average with this personnel and production. Also, the commitment to top shelf vocals is not lost for a second. This is especially true on “He Ain’t Coming Home” which benefits from Keefe’s harmonies. It’s followed up by “Off the Rails” – an endearing bluegrass song of the hard luck variety which sees Bowles swinging mightily. The ALO guys return for the gorgeous “Better Day” with Lebo’s pedal steel once again traversing the angelic realm.
Arriving at the ascending chord progression of “Left it All Behind,” we can tell this is going to be epic. “I said goodbye yesterday, but yesterday was in another life.” I don’t know how Ledson digs to this place within himself, but it’s downright haunting. When it’s time for the mando solo, he’s instantly on the attack. Kaufmann thunders through the clouds with Domenici’s banjo showering down like splintering rain. As they push the jam to the brink, you can sideslip into the multiverse where a parallel moment is happening in a club, surrounded by ecstatic fans. The arrival at that reality feels like an inevitability. Considering the state of the music industry in 2021, it’s reassuring to be reminded that albums can still matter this much.
What do you make of the concept of the multiverse? Is it possible for a person, or say a band, to exist in multiple realms simultaneously? Thanks to the marvel of video streaming technology, this has become a regular part of our reality over the past 15 years. It’s admirable for any band to put up a feed of their gigs on Facebook Live. It’s a whole other thing to acknowledge the elite level of professionalism achieved by select artists presenting their concerts to global audiences across cyber space. The use footage from as many as a dozen cameras getting the kinds of angles no fan could ever aspire to at the actual event. We can all experience these shows in the comfort of our living rooms while sharing meals, folding laundry or making snow angels on the carpet (pants optional). The convenience and intimacy are a huge part of the draw, yet the emotional impact is only realized when sharing the novelty amidst a group dynamic.
Since reopening under new ownership in December of 2012, the Crazy Horse has established itself as one of the preeminent hubs of live music streaming in the country. You’d have to go to San Francisco, Portland, Denver or New York to find other venues bringing people together to witness the marvel of a live webcast. Leave it to Nevada City – the biggest little town in the west – to offer a refuge for those who crave to devour every note without the effort and expense of actually being there. If everything was normal (major stretch of the imagination), we’d be preparing to watch Phish close out the year with another one of their epic performances on the big screen. In honor of this, we offer a retrospective of our streaming history.
It began on the auspicious date of 12/12/12 with the Rolling Stones playing a benefit to raise money for victims of Hurricane Sandy. The details of the show are a little hazy now but there is one thing that stands out. When I called the number listed on the screen, Whoopi Goldberg just happened to answer the phone to accept my donation. You can’t miss that voice. A few weeks later we hosted our first Phish Madison Square Garden New Year run and never looked back.
The Crazy Horse streaming rig consists of an Epson HD projector with a seven-foot projection screen. We have a designated laptop which is only used for streaming. From the beginning, we have done everything possible to fine tune the process. Namely securing the fastest internet speed possible by hardwiring and avoiding Wi-Fi. At a certain point we added a PreSonos Audio Box which cracked the code to provide the stellar sound we had been seeking.
Even in the perfect scenario, streaming is not always flawless. Experiencing dropouts and buffering is the kiss of death. There’s nothing worse than hearing the whole room groan in unison as the stream grinds to a sudden halt. I would feel personally responsible, even though I knew we had done everything to avoid any issues. One of the ultimate highlights was showing the three-night run of the Grateful Dead Fare Thee Well shows from Chicago’s Soldier Field in early July 2015. Shrugging off a sweltering heat wave, deadheads emerged from the hills to share in the band’s 50-year anniversary celebration. In contrast to all the bliss was the agony of the stream freezing during one of the peak moments of modern music history as Trey Anastasio belted out “Scarlet Begonias.” Fortunately that was probably long forgotten by the time the Empire State Building danced with synchronized illumination during “U.S. Blues” on the final night.
There are too many amazing memories of Phish streams to mention. There were only a few of us there to confirm that the street light out front did in fact combust on 11/2/18 because they were jamming “Sand” with such savage ferocity. Naturally the high-profile occasions stand out the most. Two of the best have been the band’s Halloween performances when they donned their “musical costume” and covered another band’s album. We celebrated this in 2016 as they covered David Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust.” We hosted a costume contest with the winner being a guy dressed as Trump which I still attribute as the jinxing factor for that fateful election.
Halloween 2018 was even more memorable as the band’s cover selection was shrouded in mystery. They unveiled an album by “Kasvot Vaxt” along with one of the most elaborate set designs of their career. Many stood dumbfounded as they thought we were hearing songs by an obscure Scandinavian band. It turned out to be the ultimate trick and treat with Phish writing a whole album of new material under an alias. The sense of bewilderment in the audience was delightfully amusing. They played so long that the band we had slated to play afterwards – Deltaphonic from New Orleans – only had time for a 40-minute set at the very end of the night.
Some nights of streaming like those Halloween shows were just as packed as if a band was playing in the flesh. Everyone is dancing or staring at the screen totally captivated. Some wander in off the street having no idea what they are looking at. If I notice them, I might sidle up and offer a friendly explanation. I’m sure many new fans have been created from such random encounters. Then there are other nights were there is just a handful of hardcore fans there who might as well be watching in their living rooms. But it would never look or sound this good at most people’s house with the sound cranking through our full PA. We even bring in a sound engineer for each stream to make sure everything is totally dialed in.
The zenith of the live streaming experience at the Horse has to be Phish’s “Baker’s Dozen” when they played 13 shows in a row at Madison Square Garden in July and August of 2017. It was an unprecedented cultural phenomenon which is unanimously considered not just as a crowning achievement of the band’s career, but as one of the greatest in the history of rock ‘n roll. We streamed 9 out of the 13 shows and each one was a totally different experience (which, if you didn’t know, featured not a single repeat song). Going with the theme, fans brought donuts to share with others in attendance. There was a communal spirit as strangers became friends while dancing together and exchanging awe-filled expressions. People traveled from around the region as fans from the Bay Area, Sacramento and Tahoe all shared the once in a lifetime experience. When the band drops into the familiar funky groove of “2001,” the arena rock eruption of “Tweezer Reprise” or the iconic multi-part fugue of “You Enjoy Myself,” it’s as if we are all breathing through the same lungs and dancing with a collective set of limbs.
While Phish owns most of the notches on the Crazy Horse streaming bedpost, we have explored other avenues of visual, musical splendor. Umphrey’s McGee, Widespread Panic and Dead and Company have all made their impact. On a Saturday afternoon a loyal crowd of Deadheads waited out a long rain delay in Boulder, CO until Dead and Company finally came on to deliver a crackling performance. Just before the pandemic hit, we hosted The Allman Brothers 50th anniversary show live from MSG. During a lull in the pandemic, we even squeezed in Umphrey’s playing at an Atlanta drive-in. It’s an integral part of who we are and what we do. Tomorrow is New Years Eve and we should be exploring another chapter of the colorful Phish legacy. Instead, we’re all at home trying to entertain ourselves in the best ways we can. Hopefully we can reflect on the amazing experiences we’ve shared in the past and take a sojourn in the multiverse where we can all dance together again.
“He’s going to destroy your venue.” “I hope you’re well insured.” “I heard he almost burned the place down last time.” “Do you have any idea what you’re in for?” These musings were expressed with a genuine level of concern as the days ticked down to Andy Frasco’s return to the Crazy Horse Saloon. Did I have the slightest tinge of fear? Sure. But only the kind you get before riding a roller coaster for the first time. One thing I did know is that crowd-surfing was an inevitability and when that point arrived, Frasco’s flailing limbs better be nowhere near our Turkish chandelier.
Over the six years since Frasco and his band The U.N. first made their way through Nevada City, he’s become one of the most buzz-worthy live performers in the country. Whether whipping audiences into a frenzy at many of the country’s best festivals, claiming the mantle as JamCruise spirit animal or schwilling Jameson while perched barefoot atop his piano, he does it all with an unabashed rock star flair. The band was red hot, coming off a four-night run opening for Umphrey’s McGee. Prior to that was a co-headlining tour with Big Something. Considering all this, it was interesting how many people in this area still hadn’t heard of them. As is often the case, people waited until the last minute when the ticket demand went through the roof. The show was sold out well before doors opened.
Frasco is adored by his peers and fans and his musical talent only tells part of the tale. Devoid of the ego one might expect, the guy is just downright lovable. As the host of the successful World Saving Podcast, he shamelessly reveals his demons which include copious volumes of anxiety, depression and self-doubt. It’s refreshing to have someone in his position highlight their own vulnerability and be proactive in helping others to realize that they aren’t alone in their struggles. At some point early in the show, he asked the audience to raise their hands if they are dealing with these issues. My hand went up along with many others. It was very comforting and unifying.
The timing was auspicious as Frasco and The U.N. swung into the Crazy Horse on the last weekend before Corona chaos swept the nation. We kind of knew it was coming, but we were still clinging to hope that it would pass us by. Now that our venue is temporarily closed, I reflect on that night with a tremendous amount of gratitude. On Thursday, March 5, the worries of the world evaporated as we were all whisked into a whirlwind of transcendent entertainment, primal energy and mischievous fun.
This is not a band that requires any warm up. They hit the stage with the wheels already smoking in fifth gear. While any description of a Frasco show has to focus on the over-the-top stage presence, humorous banter and renegade shenanigans, this wouldn’t go too far if it wasn’t an extension of a captivating musical performance. Cover songs were plentiful throughout the night, woven together seamlessly like a psilocybin-fueled jukebox. The originals are refreshingly disarming with a strong emphasis on lyrical resonance and heartfelt connection. The opener “Change of Pace” set a tone of, “we’re all in on this journey together.” The new single “Keep On Keepin’ On” later broke through the medley of madness for a reminder of Frasco’s ability to write what sounds a lot like a big radio hit (or whatever the heck that is these days). And then there were barroom jaunts for our shear amusement like “Blame it on the Pussy.”
One of the descriptors for this music is “party rock” and it couldn’t be more accurate. There are also forays into the blues as witnessed with “It’s Been a Struggle.” This was our first testament to how the band loves to do stream of consciousness cover mash-ups as they did here with Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back” and Eddie Money’s “Two Tickets to Paradise.” Reeling off blistering licks on the latter, guitarist Shawn Eckles showed why he’s the kind of guy anyone would covet in their band. He has perfected the art of inflicting damage with efficiency, precision and bravado. He matches Frasco’s boundless energy and authentic enthusiasm. The band showed off its versatility – pulling off two instrument rotations during “Struggle,” which featured Eckles’ ability to wail on the organ.
Rhythm sections don’t tend to get enough attention because really, what do you say? Bass and drums are something you feel. When the groove is locked in, you’re dancing and losing yourself in the bliss of the moment. Well, that was definitely the case with Chris Lorentz on bass and Andee Avila on drums. They effortlessly swung from hard rock intensity to a funky ska bounce. The dynamics were all over the place, yet always grounded and in control, even when things felt on the verge of spinning off their axis.
The effect this show had on the audience was a wondrous thing. Bands love coming to Nevada City because the fans are so ready to give themselves fully to the magic of spontaneous artistic creation in its variety of forms. This was one of those nights where you looked around the room and people were literally bursting with joy and awe. When they pulled out snippets of “Tom Sawyer,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and “We’re An American Band,” we had no choice but to process the overwhelming stimulus with unfettered fist pumping and/or dance moves reserved for the most bachanalian occasions.
Rock and blues have already been mentioned. Of course there had to be funk and soul. A splash of old school hip hop? Why not! But what we also got was a plunge into a realm we generally prefer to steer clear of – hardcore punk. On this night, it was the sweetest of ear candy. Nirvana’s “Breed” was the initial ice pick shattering our comfort zone of normalcy. Then it was the pair of Rage Against the Machine nuggets – “Bulls on Parade” and “Killing in the Name” – which catapulted the place into euphoric pandemonium. Both felt so aligned with the angst of the political climate and uncertainty in the world. Frasco and Co. delivered the goods like their lives depended on it. This show was case in point as to why our motto continues to be, “music is medicine.” This was a group therapy session in the best kind of way.
Frasco finally did his long-awaited stage dive during “Killing in the Name.” Much to my relief he was headed towards the bar and away from the chandelier. But the previously packed crowd had grown sparse by this time and didn’t have the numbers needed for a proper surf. I tracked him but could only carry him so far. He later said this was the first time he didn’t make it back to the stage. Hopefully that doesn’t tarnish the Crazy Horse’s reputation too much. Remember us instead for our “Hava Nagilah” gusto or commitment to the classic Animal House “Shout” scene.
Even if this band was a lounge act with no performance quotient, they could still entertain us to the moon and back. Frasco’s instrumental and vocal chops get overshadowed by everything else, but there is no mistaking his passionate sparkle on the ivories. Nothing is ever normal when this man is in the room. Nothing is routine. When they sent us off with Stevie Wonder’s “Signed Sealed Delivered,” it was poetic in the way it tied everything together after the wild ride we’d experienced. One can be sure this Frasco freak is channeling all of his emotions – both positive and angst-ridden – into what is perhaps the most orgasmic live shows on today’s music scene. Like most of our favorite experiences here, it had a wide-ranging appeal which reminded us yet again how music is the thread which connects us all. How long can the band keep going at this pace and intensity? Well, if they’re as super human as they seem, hopefully forever.
It wasn’t Pink Floyd, Dire Straits or The Talking Heads. No, for this crowd it was something even better. On Sunday, June 2 of 2019, The Slip reunited to play its second set of the last seven years. This was the only thing that could have been meaningful enough to cap off a nine straight hours of breathtaking music. Even for those, like me, who don’t have intimate knowledge of the trio, the emotional impact was as persuasive as a charging rhino. For a room full of industry insiders, world class musicians and super fans, there was a palpable kinship in the voracious passion we share for this art form.
Just when you thought you’d seen and done it all within the concert realm, an event like JamBase 20 rears its head. We received an email invite months in advance beckoning us to the Sweetwater Music Hall in Mill Valley, CA. We’d be gathering to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the game-changing website that leveled the playing field for anyone wondering where bands were playing. The company was founded by computer savants and savvy marketing minds who had limited expectations for long term growth. They were driven by the noble intention of compelling the masses to “Go See Live Music.” Having arrived at this milestone, they were classy enough to know that it had to be celebrated in monumental fashion.
Raven and I arrived at 4pm and the music was already swinging on the front patio of the Sweetwater. A drum and keyboard duo called Clangin’ & Bangin’ served as a festive welcoming committee with a variety of hip material interpreted in the mode of New Orleans style funky jazz. Cellarmaker Brewing had created a “Twenty Years Nectar” Pale Ale just for the occasion. Yummy appetizers were being passed such as tempura cauliflower which proved to be one of the culinary highlights of the event. We were all given a JB20 laminate with our name printed on it which was a stroke of genius to spark the old memory bank and help break the ice with new faces.
The patio scene was incredibly inviting and it felt so good to catch up with friends. It was difficult to tear one’s self away and progress into the music hall. Andy Gadiel, the co-founder of JamBase, walked around informing people that Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey was on stage. This was the first time the flagship lineup of Reed Mathis (bass), Brian Haas (keys) and Jason Smart (drums) had played together in twelve years so conversations could wait. The event had a strict policy against chatting in the music hall, thus the choice was black and white: Musical immersion or socializing. A no-brainer for me.
Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey
Kicking off the programming with the JFJO reunion was like starting your freshman year of college dating Angelina Jolie, circa 2001. You might have drank each other’s blood, but man, you sure didn’t regret it. Just like they were back in their glory days, the trio was delightfully dangerous, deliciously disturbing and devilishly disarming. It was over too soon, but it was like a prolonged orgasm; the pleasure from which continued in waves throughout the night.
When I reviewed my first JFJO show for JamBase in October of 2002, I said of Mathis, “He embodies the primal powers of the sonic universe, channeling tones through his bass from the nether-regions of imagination.” I can’t really improve upon that too much. In Haas, he found a cosmic soulmate who matched his fervor in formulating a musical language for alien communication. To see them face off again onstage was a trip to improv junkie fantasy camp.
Haas is one of the most entertaining performers on the face of the earth. Playing like a man possessed, he attacked the Rhodes as if he would eventually open a gateway to another dimension with enough persistence. Unable to restrain a maniacal grin under his curly mop, he continuously hurled lightning bolts across the stage which Mathis calmly chewed up and spit back out into deceptively complex counter-rhythms. When it’s time to get ever weirder, he uses the melodica with the cunning of a snake charmer. Then Mathis goes for the pedals, transforming his tone into mournful phosphorescence.
Deservedly these two claim the spotlight, but the wild card here was the return of drummer Jason Smart. They were able to tear him away from his teaching gig at the Cincinnati Academy of Music and he is clearly just as sharp as ever. His cerebral approach and ultra delicate touch reminded us why the trio produced its most acclaimed material during his six years on the kit. Even for someone like me, it wasn’t readily apparent if they were actually playing songs. It came across like an avant-garde jazz-funk-fusion stream of consciousness. Thanks to Bee Getz for pointing out that they closed with their classic composition, “Vernal Equinox.” Typical reactions from the peanut gallery were: “It made my head explode!” “They tore me apart!” “I might never recover!” Will it ever happen again? We won’t hold our breath.
We returned to Earth momentarily as Holly Bowling gave us a brief peek into her brilliant mind and dazzling chops during a solo piano set. People were transfixed as she dove into a lush transcription of Phish’s “Divided Sky.” Tea Leaf Green did their Americana-soul-rock thing with Dan “Lebo” Lebowitz filling in for Josh Clark on guitar. It was sweet to see Gadiel sit in on guitar for one of the songs. The heartfelt songwriting and singing of keyboardist Trevor Garrod is where everything begins and ends for this band. Lebo pushed them in exploratory directions while the punchy rhythm section of Eric DiBerardino on bass and Scott Rager on drums maintained a solid yet malleable groove.
One of the unexpected treats of the day was the Strangefolk duo with Reid Genauer and Jon Trafton – respectively on acoustic and electric guitars. I had never heard Strangefolk before and was touched by the raw emotions of Genauer’s vocals. They were joined by Lebo on steel slide guitar and we were transported into an atmospheric dream-state. Lebo has become a master of this medium. The set came to a breathtaking conclusion with the John Prine classic, “Angel from Montgomery.” Jennifer Hartswick on vocals and Nick Cassarino on guitar both contributed to major goosebumps.
Natalie Cressman and Jennifer Hartswick
Following a relatively subdued trio of bands, the crowd was ready for a full-on funk and soul escapade. Jennifer Hartswick and Friends delivered that in a concentrated dosage. This was the sort of super group we had all expected JamBase to assemble. J-Ha was joined by Cassarino (who has been touring with her lately as part of a duo when he’s not playing with The Nth Power), Trey Anastasio Band accomplice, Natalie Cressman (trombone, vox), Mark Brownstein from the Disco Biscuits (bass), Rob Marscher from Star Kitchen (keys) and Michaelangelo Carruba from Turkuaz (drums). They stormed the castle with Cassarino belting out The Meters’ “Ain’t No Use.” I freaking love this song! Our suspicions were immediately proven true: “This is going to be serious.”
The crowd started to cut loose on the dancefloor as WAR’s “Cisco Kid” strutted its bad self. Even though this was technically Hartswick’s band, Cassarino took unabashed command of the proceedings. I had yet to hear him play in person and was impressed with his velvety tone and charisma. The vibe ascended even higher for “Love the One You’re With.” You could feel the group mind embracing this joyous moment as the encapsulation of the JB20 spirit. Every time Hartswick took the mic to sing or play a trumpet solo, she would take it as far as you thought it could go…and then a little further. The energy spilled forth like the Fantasia flood.
Cressman threw us a curveball with a seductive romp through Minnie Ripperton’s “Baby This Love I Have.” Her sublime vocal delivery whisked us away to the Copacabana as the rest of the band simmered. I hardly know The Disco Biscuits so it was cool to get a gander of Brownstein’s funk credentials. His Star Kitchen bandmate Marscher was understated on the keys but always tasteful. He definitely knows his way around a Hammond B3 organ. I’ve yet to cross paths with Turkuaz so this was my first exposure to Carruba’s drumming. He started the set just hanging tough in the pocket. As the group ramped up the intensity, he matched it with flashier rolls and rapid fire progressions.
Nick Cassarino with Joel Cummins, Borahm Lee and Rob Marscher getting cozy
At some point during “Baby,” the towering figure of Eric Krasno emerged from the wing. This was one of those adrenaline-vaulting cameos which we all covet. The Soulive guitarist – who had just finished playing up the road with Phil Lesh and Friends at Terrapin Crossroads – spewed gas on the fire with the signature bite of his jazz-blues fluidity. On the next song, “Stormy Monday,” we got to see Krasno unleash one of the most volcanic blues solos imaginable. Eyes closed, guitar face in full effect, the man doled out a truckload of ear candy. Marley’s “Exodus” was a lackluster choice to follow it up. Regardless, the song featured a triple keyboard collaboration with the addition of Borahm Lee (Break Science) and Joel Cummins (Umphrey’s McGee.) It was a sight to behold. The presence of all these musicians, whether on a song or a set, illustrated how greatly JamBase is valued among the community of touring bands. It’s a mutual appreciation society.
A second wave of delicious morsels made their way around the room. The sliders were the bomb. Cocktails flowed from the open bar. Our hosts had spared no expense. JamBase co-founder Teddy Kartzman coalesced the vibe with a brief speech. His words carried a lot of weight and sentimental reflection. The big takeaway for me was, “Intention and love creates positivity.” We were now ready to enter the final stretch of the night as Nathan Moore helmed the stage. High Sierra Music Festival and JamBase are intrinsically entwined. Nathan Moore is synonymous with the festival as was The Slip for many years. The merger of the two is called Surprise Me Mr. Davis. They had been the special guest the previous night at The Chapel in San Francisco. At the Sweetwater, SMMD was amplified by Bowling and Lebo. Moore is a gonzo troubadour who is something of a “spirit animal” to a lot of people whose ears and souls he has nourished during camp-side performances into the wee hours. This brief set showcased his heartfelt brand of whiskey-fueled Americana and soul-baring showmanship.
The largely 40-something crowd was starting to fade. Alarm clocks were going off early the next morning. This was the time to tap into the reserves. The Slip were never hugely popular, but they had a significant cult following and apparently still do. Their 2006 album Eisenhower achieved a degree of mainstream recognition as they tapped into the zeitgeist of that era’s indie rock aesthetic. Whatever they did was always approached with a heightened musicianship that set them apart. Brad and Andrew Barr have achieved success as The Barr Brothers since the dissolution of The Slip. Bassist Marc Friedman has been pretty damn well for himself too, playing with Ryan Montbleu. He flew in just for this reunion and settled back into the trio groove like a ninja chameleon.
A midnight curfew had been established so when they started their set at almost a quarter after 11, I was resigned to the fact that this was going to be much shorter than we would like. At some point during the action, word spread that the curfew had been bumped to 1:30. This was fantastic news. I have enjoyed listening to Eisenhower a few times, but other than that, my familiarity with the band is limited to two performances back in ’99. While the set wasn’t as impactful for me as it was for many in attendance, I couldn’t help but be swept away by the urgency with which The Slip seized this fleeting moment.
I have no idea what if any preparation went into this set, but it was remarkable how they distilled the essence of their entire career into one definitive musical statement. The funky instrumental “Get Me with Fuji” evoked a roar from the crowd. A tender 22-year old song like “Alsoa” seemed more poignant than ever. The title track from their debut “From the Gecko” saw them stretch out with a big assist from Krasno. He goes way back with the band and it was a rush to behold he and Brad Barr trading licks.
I didn’t realize what a monster Barr is on guitar. He likes it fuzzy and dirty, but is patient enough to paint a beautiful landscape while he’s at it. He sings with the angst of a man who has suffered just enough. His enigmatic frontman persona is boosted by “DeNiro in the 70s” intensity. Friedman couldn’t mask a grin of gratitude while flinging his distinct, jazz-based boomerangs. Meanwhile, Andrew Barr came across like it was just another day at the office; attacking his drum kit with a tasteful balance of ferocity and elegance. The three exist as independent entities and components of one powerful organism.
The Slip w/ Nathan Moore and Eric Krasno: “The Last One Ever”
Glancing around the room, a number of well-known musicians were scattered about, just as captivated with what was unfolding on stage as any of us. As the set progressed, the reaction of the crowd said it all. Even the most jaded music freaks couldn’t restrain their euphoria. Closing with three songs from Eisenhower was a poetic climax. I won’t soon forget the image of my old pal Toby jumping up and down with his arms thrusting in the air during “Children of December.” For a bunch of people who cherish live music above almost anything, this experience was a gift of immeasurable magnitude.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
Over the course of nine performances in the month of April, Ghosts of the Forest became a living, breathing eulogy to “C-Cott” and so much more. This was no ordinary concert. It wasn’t a straightforward exchange of entertainment from band to audience. It was a rock-gospel-soul opera, using the loss of the ultimate bromance to create almost three hours of music unlike anything heard before. We’re talking about a testament to artistic genius I consider on par with any in modern times. It was a reboot of mind-body-soul that left us existential realities to ponder. Juxtaposing light and dark through a psychedelic kaleidoscope, we all know which one comes out triumphant.
Ghosts of the Forest was a statement of overwhelming power laden with heart-opening messages we can all benefit from. It was a passing forth of sage wisdom delivered with childlike fragility. If you’re someone who adores Trey as I do, chances are Ghosts of the Forest was among the most refreshing, inspirational live music voyages of your life. It certainly was for me. An integral part of that impression was the gift of absorbing these songs within the iconic surroundings of Berkeley’s Greek Theatre. The oldest amphitheatre in the country was a fantasy setting to intensify the majesty of the Ghosts’ odyssey. Lucky for us, it was the final show of the brief tour and the band had refined these complex compositions into their fully actualized expressions.
The mesmerizing Laura Lee throwing down on bass for Khruangbin. Photo by Tyler Blue
This was only one of two shows on the tour to feature an opening band and I couldn’t have been more elated to see that slot filled by Khruangbin. The trio from Houston has quickly become a nationwide sensation with their stylized fusion of 60’s Thai funk, psychedelic jazz, spacey soul and surf rock. Everyone loves a female bassist and I’m sure many of us can relate on our Laura Lee crushes. Watching her strut the stage, dressed in haute couture and black wig, while thumping with authority was about as hot as it gets. Mark Speer is a tasteful guitar shredder and it was easy to see why Trey pegged them for this coveted slot. It’s almost unheard of for an opener to be rewarded with this sort of attendance. You could tell this was a watershed moment for the band. It was enchanting to hear some of the sexy songs from their debut album, The Universe Smiles Upon You performed in this setting. Their ace in the hole is an instrumental medley of old school hip hop classics. They left us wanting a lot more.
From their inception, Ghosts of the Forest was a project shrouded in mystery. For months leading up to the tour, we knew next to nothing about the material we would be hearing. It was only in March that they released the eponymous track and revealed there would be an album coming out soon. This coincided with a Rolling Stone interview in which Trey revealed a lot about his motivations. After the album dropped and shows from the tour were available to be heard, I consciously avoided it. I felt strongly that it would be in my best interest to go in blind and absorb the music with no preconceptions. I couldn’t have been happier with this decision. It was both liberating and delightfully suspenseful to have no point of reference when each song would spread its wings in the crisp Berkeley air.
Photo by Tyler Blue
The opening track, “Ghosts of the Forest,” served as an elegant, haunting induction to a whole new universe. It was an immediate indoctrination to the emotions of a man stripped bare. If you weren’t ready to accept the reality of “drowning in bitterness…memories…anger…regrets…hatred,” then maybe this wasn’t for you. Can you appreciate how unheard of it is for a crowd of 8000+ to be present and supportive of an entire show of new material? I can’t speak for everyone in attendance, but I felt a palpable sense of unification right away. Maybe we took pride in making this a nurturing space for our guy to share his most intimate self. We’re here with you Trey. We’re here for you buddy. We understand.
The 12+ minute epic “Drift While You’re Sleeping” was the official launching point into the panoramic scope of the band’s potential. The show had barely begun and we were already far from the shallows now. We’re digesting some sobering messages – “We move through stormy weather, we know that our days are few, we dream and we struggle together,” but then there is the salvation of trusting that “love will carry us through.” This is painted on a canvas of magnificent gospel soul, stretching out like the Grand Canyon… larger than life. The reggae excursion in the middle of the song is simply breathtaking. There is not one drop of exaggeration in asserting that the vocal duo of Jennifer Hartswick and Celisse Henderson is one of the greatest ever assembled. Throughout the night they illustrated the fact that a voice can be the most impactful instrument of all.
Adding to the long list of elements that made this project so special was the inclusion of Jon Fishman as its drummer. Am I forgetting something in asserting that this is the first Trey side project since Surrender to the Air in ’96 that Fishman was a part of? All the other members except Henderson are regulars in the Trey Anastasio Band. Based on the extremely personal nature of GOTF, it made sense that Trey wanted to lean on one of his oldest friends setting the rhythm ablaze right behind him. Jon Fishman is the Trey Anastasio of drummers. He is one of the best in the world at what he does and that’s not even up for discussion. He never plays a boring or predictable beat. He makes everything simultaneously complex and digestible. We see this all on “Drift” as he is going Beautiful Mind on our asses, striking the skins with delicate authority, unlocking a secret code.
The feeling I was experiencing felt akin to the exotic, unfamiliar realm of a Phish Halloween “musical costume.” Factoring in the visual splendor and ensemble collaboration evoked the flair of a Broadway production. The textured backdrop consisted of three dimensional pieces of fabric that, at first glance, seems very homespun. It’s not until the show progresses that we realize it just an external layer shrouding a bank of LED technology. Along with LED towers positioned around the stage, we are treated to a cerebral light show unlike we’ve ever seen. Utilizing textures and shadows in a way that reflects the music’s yin-yang, the visual journey accentuates the music just as intended. The most memorable effect was the point during a certain song when Trey’s rock star silhouette was mirrored in motion across screen. This was all a virtual diorama within the grandiose backdrop of the Greek’s stone columns.
The next song “Friend” contains perhaps the most brutally honest and raw emotions of any. We are struck by the haunting, underwater, modulated guitar tone and piercing piano. For a minute there’s a Pink Floyd “Echoes” type of vibe as is also the case with “Ghosts of the Forest.” When Trey tells us, “I’ve traveled all over this big old world and it’s so hard to find a real friend,” we know it’s ok to open the floodgates. It’s remarkable to observe that even though it’s still a newborn, every detail of this music has been thought through. The cadence of the vocal lines and spacing of piano chords urge us to marinate in spaces between. Over the years, a lot of Trey’s ballads take time to grow on fans, but this is different. This has immediate resonance.
One Phish fanatic friend opted not to attend this show because she was convinced it wouldn’t be dance friendly. Not having heard the music, I thought it might be a “stand and bear witness” kind of affair and I was fine with that. It turned out that these were major misconceptions. “Sightless Escape” laid those notions to rest. It starts out with a Dire Straits type of pacing and energy, with Trey punctuating verses with a surf guitar recoil. Almost every song contained a mantra of sorts that we could take home with us. This one is perhaps the most infectious of all – “There’s a light that’s guiding me.” It accentuates the idea that this really is an unprecedented interpretation of gospel because a lot of it could have equal appeal to both religious and secular listeners. Live music is oft compared to a religious experience and Ghosts of the Forest has to be exhibit A in that regard. As Phish lyricist Tom Marshall tweeted from the show, we were attending ” The Church of Trey.”
Once “Escape” is off to the races, the back-up singers organically filter through the mix like yarns of silk fluttering in morning sunlight. It evolves into a grinding groove, with Tony Markellis showing why he’s the godfather of pocket bassists, Ray Paczkowski asserting heavily on the clavinet and Fish absolutely killing it on the drums. Trey’s muted tone and chunky phrasing go into a little call-and-response with the singers as the outside world recedes into the distance. Nearing the climax, we get to hear Celisse unleash her heavenly pipes. The term “powerhouse” was coined for this woman. She was only known before from joining Phish when they covered David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust on Halloween 2016. Trey is completely enamored with her and rightfully so.
As the evening progressed, it all seemed more and more surreal. It was totally disarming that such transformative music was emerging from this man standing humbly 30 feet in front of me. It made him more human than ever and barely of this earth. The songs had this quality of being so fresh in the now while also timeless. It was as if they had always existed and were only now activated into audible perception. The energy of the Greek nurtured the art as it was able to be played at the lowest volume one could imagine for a rock concert. The sound infused into our ears, our hearts, our pores, our cells.
“There’s a Path Above” rolled out of the speakers with an instant sense of soothing calm and rooted girth. Anchored by a hypnotic bassline, it features one of the more inspirational refrains of the bunch – “If you want to fly, let go.” In the days since hearing it, I find myself using this as a touchstone and hope I will continue to do so. The connection between Trey and Ray was one of the most touching things to witness throughout this occasion. I haven’t seen TAB in a long time so it was particularly notable to see how their musical conversation has blossomed over almost two decades of playing together. It shouldn’t be lost on anyone that we came very close to losing Ray to a brain tumor recently so I’m sure the messages in these songs have as much resonance with him as anyone. Cruising on the scenic “Path,” Trey bestows us a luscious stream of consciousness with that divine tone sprinkling pixie dust on our synapses.
When the album came out, it was very exciting news that one of the songs was 23-minutes long. This spoke volumes to what we all wanted to know about GOTF. This was going to be one of Trey’s most adventurous projects yet; something that would surely have received the freewheeling C-Cott’s stamp of approval. “Beneath a Sea of Stars” is a three-part movement which was divided into two sections on this night. If everything before and after wasn’t so damn amazing, these 25 minutes of glorious exploration would be the raison d’etre. Opening with a breezy melody and the lighthearted line, “We’re all here together and the weather is fine,” the monumental song soon unspools into a multi-dimensional meditation on nature. Birds are chirping, astral streaks spiral from Ray’s synth, Trey’s koa guitar cries out to the heavens. This is medicine music.
For a moment we are transported back to the dawn of creation as controlled chaos ensues. Tony’s bass rumbles the land, ushering in the proverbial big bang. Starting with nothing, together we become something. Crossing over into angelic space is a fitting reward after processing all of these challenging emotions. Emerging out of the ashes, “Stars Pt. 2” gives us a subtle hint of how transcendent it was hearing the Grateful Dead encore with “Dark Star” on this same stage 35 years earlier. Trey regales us with some of most mystical, esoteric imagery he’s ever penned: “Misty ships on the horizon line and the golden dome is waking, morning birds on magnetic parade, the dawn is slowly breaking. Vapor splits into yellow light the air is burning rapture, phantasm rings of golden heat in red hypnotic pastures.” Is this an homage to Game of Thrones? Whatever the heck it is, it was manna to my ears at that moment.
It deserves mentioning that the setlist at all of these GOTF shows was identical. We’ve never experienced anything like that in the world of Trey. When hearing it you realize why the sequence of songs was written exactly as the flow of the muse mandated. Following “Stars” with “Mint Siren Dream” (with the novelty of Trey crooning sans guitar), the latter felt like a natural extension of the former. This brings me back to the reasons why Trey deserves acknowledgement as one of the greatest writers/orchestrators in existence. Writing and arranging even one of these songs is no small feat. Doing so for 21 songs of this caliber and depth is a virtual impossibility. Piecing them together in this sort of way where they form one fluid statement of immeasurable depth is the work of a savant. These are just a few of the reasons why GOTF is incomparable to anything else and why I foresee myself listening to this show many, many times in the future.
The saga already felt like it had been going forever at this point (not unlike this review). Something about the nature of the material cast a spell on the perception of time. Hard to believe as it was, some of the best was still to come. “Stumble into Flight,” “Ruby Waves” and “Wider” contained some of the highest highs of the night. “Flight” features dirty Trey soloing like we all covet. “Ruby” culminates with a full-blown guitar assault that had me and the entire crowd screaming in ecstasy. It would be a surprise if Phish doesn’t add this to their repertoire. “Wider” is a cool deviation with a vamping, dub-style groove. “A Life Beyond the Dream” was an anthemic landing point, guiding us towards the real world with the reminder, “Don’t give up hope.”
Just when you think it might be over, we are in Part 3 of “Beneath a Sea of Stars.” The joyous catch phrase, “It’s blue all around,” affirmed my synergy with all that is. Clearly I’ve found my new theme song. Another showstopper of a jam started with Ray’s cat and mouse organ followed by Tony ascending the stairs and Fishman working miracles at every step along the way. Then the ringmaster dug deep yet again to summon his signature Languedoc howls. As the bass bounced, Trey stampeded towards the finish line with unfettered conviction. Jenn Hartswick looked like this was one of the happiest moments of her life as she chimed in again with Celisse to observe that…yes, in fact, “it’s blue all around!”
It all wrapped up as poetically as one could desire, with Trey letting us know that he’s “wide awake and the ghosts are out to greet me.” “Get in, get out,” the ladies sang just as they did when we were different people almost three hours earlier. We are wide awake with you Trey. We embrace the ghosts. We’ll remember those mantras. The inspiration of C-Cott will live on forever. The Ghosts of the Forest tour is over, but the influence of this music has only just begun to fulfill its destiny.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
You won’t find it in your TV Guide, but there is an irresistible new show sweeping the nation: “Everybody Loves Cal.” That’s right ladies and gentlemen; we’re talking about overnight star, Cal Kehoe. We’re not sure how adept he is at comedy, but we can tell you that the kid plays guitar like he was cradling one in the womb. Prior to March, this 23-year old shredder was only known in limited circles. Fortunately when Pink Talking Fish had to replace their guitarist and co-lead vocalist, Kehoe was available. He’s got the stage presence, the charm, the chops, the flowing locks; most importantly, he brings an infectious sense of fun to the party. The series is still in its infancy, but the ratings are already off the charts.
When we last saw our protagonists, they were sauntering out of the Crazy Horse on a sunny Monday afternoon, having just performed Pink Floyd’s Animals in entirety. It was a surprise set, played for about 30 lucky souls who probably walked around with deranged grins for the next several days. You could consider it as an over-the-top encore for the previous night’s sold out show. When the band returned almost a year later for a two-night stand, they were coming back to a home away from their New England homes. They spent an extra night in the apartment above the venue, enjoyed Nevada City’s restaurants and even took the time to go to the movies (albeit a movie they declared as the worst they’d ever seen – Us).
While the band encompasses a fusion of Pink Floyd, Talking Heads and Phish, they definitely showed some favoritism towards the latter during their time at the Crazy Horse. Each night kicked off with a song covered by Phish 21 years earlier during their legendary “Island Tour.” Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley” and “Roses are Free” both plunged immediately into improvisational groove-scapes. “Roses” was followed with a 23-minute “Piper” which went from systematic funk attack to beautiful sparseness back to the race track. It was clear that the band was intent on topping the previous night’s lofty standard. Or was it a healthy form of venting their disgust in Us?
Phish fans are as critical as they come which could make it very daunting for Kehoe to be this sort of torch-bearer. Fortunately he seems to relish the spotlight, transmitting joy through every note. He’s got the necessary swagger without the cockiness. It was hard to believe he was only a few weeks in to this dream job. PTF crushed classics like “Free” and “David Bowie” to an extent that Phish doesn’t these days. The key factor here was the rhythmic steam engine of Eric Gould on bass and Zack Burwick on drums. Like Mike Gordon and John Fishman, they are not content to just hold down the pocket. They apply colorful flourishes in a disciplined way, encouraging their bandmates to soar. Like Roger Waters and Nick Mason, they are keenly aware of the importance of space and texture. Like Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz, they are deceptively crafty at integrating polyrhythms while keeping the groove buckled. Gould does this all while maintaining his cool as a cucumber demeanor. Burwick can’t help but surrender to his “pirate discovering where X marks the spot” expression.
The foursome flaunted their technical prowess, navigating the gauntlet of “Colonel Forbin’s Ascent” into “Fly Famous Mockingbird” (with Gould’s buttery arpeggios sealing the deal on the streamlined pairing). Perhaps most impressively, they treated us to the coveted half-speed version of “Llama” (bka “Slow Llama”) with Richard James swirling on the organ while Gould and Burwick achieved lock-step funk harmony. The band’s ability to modulate tempo on a whim is testament to their acute commitment to listening to each other.
Pink Floyd is easily the most universal of the three bands they cover, so people tend to get extra excited when one of those tunes emerges. On night one, “Run Like Hell,” “Dogs” (with Kehoe doing Gilmore proud in the vocal department) and “Comfortably Numb” were among the highlights. On night two, they had us breathless with a heartfelt reading of “Mother,” brought the house down with “Shine on You Crazy Diamond” (rising from the ashes of “Mike’s Song”) and expertly guided the second set to a spine-tingling conclusion with “Brain Damage/Eclipse” (segued into the “Weekapaug Groove” many of us had forgotten).
The Talking Heads material sprinkles capsules of dance candy through the mix at delicious intervals. We got hit right off the bat by a nifty “Crosseyed and Painless” sandwich with Zappa’s “Peaches en Regalia” as the triumphant filling. A psyche-electro “Moon Rocks,” “Cities” (which dropped into Phish “cow funk” for a measure),” a fierce “Psycho Killer” and a perfectly placed “Stay Up Late” had the Crazy Horse crowd in full-on freak mode. This music is all so damn easy to move to. It’s harder for me to get my dance motor going these days, but Pink Talking Fish had me feeling like the love child of Gumby and John Travolta.
Kehoe may be the center of attention – and deservedly so – but keyboardist Richard James is the heart and soul of the band. The importance of any man’s role can’t be diminished, but the keyboard is especially vital to presenting these songs with authenticity and improvisational nuances. He uses his arsenal to the fullest extent, summoning ideas from a bottomless well of creativity. His sage-like presence conveys so much warmth with his signature fedora and the smile of someone doing what he’s meant to do in this life. When he sings, he does so with a balance of power and finesse. His surprisingly wide range gives so many of these gems the dynamics they deserve. Between James, Kehoe and contributions from Gould, PTF’s vocal presence more than stands up to their instrumental ferocity.
The final set of the run extended for almost two hours and was a microcosm of everything that people love about this band. The crowd was beaming when they opened with “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody).” There were several Floyd and Talking Heads highlights, but they leaned on the Phish catalog for the most ravishing explorations. TV on the Radio’s “Golden Age” showed them using a song covered by Phish to dazzling effect. The 13-minute odyssey was a vibrant ecosystem comprised of a Kehoe shredfest, an ivory-tickling showcase by James and intricate rhythmic dynamite. The room fell relatively silent as the jam dissolved into the universally revered “Fearless.” When James sang “You pick the place and I’ll choose the time,” surely we were all in agreement about how to fill in those blanks. They had our unwavering support as they climbed the hill in their own way.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
There are good reasons why very few Phish tribute bands exist on the scene. The challenge of playing such a wide array of intricate compositions is daunting enough. Winning over the notoriously critical fans is a whole other thing. Don’t even bother stepping up to the plate unless you know you’re going to hit it out of the park. You have to put in countless hours of practice on top of a lifetime of obsessing over Phish. Then you have to present their music in a soulful way that doesn’t come across as robotic. Oh, and you can’t just play the songs. You have to dissolve them into transcendent jams and bridge them together seamlessly…NBD.
When I saw Chum at the Divine Fall Festival in Santa Barbara on Labor Day weekend, I was instantly taken by their wizardry in capturing the precision mechanics of old school Phish, the tactical nature of present-day improvisation and an overriding, playful spirit. Nevada City has a voracious Phish contingent so it seemed like an obvious fit to bring them to the Crazy Horse. The band doesn’t venture from the Bay Area too often so it was a treat to see them bask in the adoration our crowd generously dishes out.
There was a palpable level of excitement circulating through the air mixed with a bit of skepticism. One friend told me it was worth it to pay the cover just for the sake of fulfilling his curiosity. After warming up with “Divided Sky,” Chum fired its first shots across the bow, launching into “It’s Ice.” It’s perfection or bust with this cut off 1993’s Rift which embodies the prog-jazz mode of that era. Thus the reason why Phish themselves hardly touch it these days. If it wasn’t enough to deliver the song impeccably, they flaunted their creativity by sandwiching “Halfway to the Moon” in the middle.
Chum’s desire to incorporate several “3.0” songs into the well-balanced setlist reflected their reverence of Phish’s gargantuan repertoire. The band told me before the show that devising the setlists is the most difficult part about what they do – a process involving “spreadsheets, voting and vetoing.” “Halfway” has received a lukewarm reception by Phish-heads on the whole, making it a risky choice. Sung gracefully by keyboardist John Greene, it opened up into a euphoric jam space that was hard to argue with.
When they followed “Ice” with the fan-favorite “Reba,” there was a collective sense of, “This is how it’s going to be?!” Masterfully utilizing the toys on his Death Star of a pedal board, Schiff warped the solo into a watery realm before evolving into fret-fanning cascades reminiscent of the song’s ’95 heyday. (CLICK HERE FOR VISUAL EVIDENCE) Throwing the ball around the horn just like Phish, Kimner commanded the room with lead vocals and joyous thumping on “Possum.” The crowd had now waved the white flag, surrendering to the undeniable power of the presence at hand.
The set was just about to hit its improvisational peak with an escapade through “Set Your Soul Free.” Only introduced in the last year, it instantly became a jam vehicle for Phish. It was here that Chum checked off another box, finding their exploratory muse in seemingly effortless, organic fashion. Kimner spearheaded the assault with a warped axis of liquid groove. Greene summoned his best baby grand impression, sounding just like McConnell while setting the stage for Schiff’s inevitable climactic release. Later the keyboardist wowed us again as he unexpectedly led “The Squirming Coil” outro solo into the barroom rag of “Alaska.” There was something about hearing these songs in the cozy confines of the Crazy Horse that felt remarkably warm and comforting. This was as close as most of us will get to seeing Phish in the early days.
If I say everything that can be said about the second set, we might be here all day. It was in the second frame that Chum exhibited its excellence with the hallmark of many a classic Phish show – crafty segueways, morphing one song into the next. They didn’t stop playing at any point, Tetris-ing endings into beginnings. They busted the place wide open with a relentlessly funky dance party when they found their way from “Gotta Jibboo” into “Sneakin’ Sally Through the Ally.” Just about every face in the room sported an ear-to-ear grin as limbs went akimbo. Operating with the utmost swagger, they dropped into my current crush – “Mercury.” It was borderline surreal as they marched through the multi-part composition with its profound, cosmic lyrics.
The set then took a turn for the sinister side with the minor key monster, “Carini.” The ensuing jam – short but impactful – saw Greene experimenting with spacey synth tones contrasted with crisp piano runs. Schiff then cleared the path home in the barn-burning manner any phan would crave. Kimner’s bass bombs steered the quartet into “Meat” – a thoughtful selection Phish would never opt for at this point in the show. Taking us further down the rabbit hole, Chum had the nifty notion to mash this up with a song that was only just unveiled at the band’s Halloween odyssey – “Death Don’t Hurt Very Long.” After this funky, bluesy romp, it was time to get back to the meat and potatoes.
“Harry Hood” is arguably the holy grail of the Phish universe. No matter how many times one hears it, the song never fails to spark a primal, emotional response and ignite the flames of nostalgia. Looking around the room as the jam gradually ascended towards its blissful climax, nothing in the outside world mattered at that moment. Another scene imprinted in my memory bank encapsulating the legendary vibe of our venue, the power of live music in such an intimate setting and the camaraderie that exists between people who share a common love.
“Harry Hood is going down at the Crazy Horse.” I never imagined that happening when we started having music here six years ago. I also couldn’t have contemplated the scintillating “David Bowie” exclamation point that followed and certainly not the victory lap of an encore – Bowie’s “Moonage Daydream.” Originality is irreplaceable, but sometimes putting this much passion and dedication into another artist’s work is the most noble endeavor a band can take.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
Gene Evaro Jr.
October 2018 will go down as one of the most legendary months in Crazy Horse music history. The consistency of top-tier performances matched by large, enthusiastic crowds summed up everything that fuels our reputation as one of the hottest little venues in the country. SambaDa kicked the month off with a funky Brazilian dance party. Whenever we have Latin music here, it always ignites a passionate response. SambaDa’s seductive female vocals, hypnotic, percussive rhythms and horn-fueled melodies are dripping with enchantment. This show was a fine example of how important it is for certain bands to feed off the energy of an audience. There was a sense that everyone felt involved.
Jumping from one Santa Cruz band to another, China Cats made their debut on Saturday the 6th. Reflecting the diversity we explore from one night to the next, the Deadheads came out of the woodwork for this one. China Cats’ shimmering, multi-layered, effects-laden psychedelia tapped in to the essence of 1980’s Dead more than any other tribute we’ve hosted. The guitar duo of Matt Hartle and Scott Cooper encapsulated the Garcia-Weir chemistry in electrifying fashion. Hartle played like a man possessed, guiding a jaunt through “Not Fade Away” that exemplified the groove-heavy approach that made the Dead synonymous with dance floor surrender.
Local band Elevation celebrated the release of their debut CD on Friday the 12th. It has been cool to see them continue to build a following with their irresistible blend of funk and soul. The vocal duo of Jamal “J Silk” Walker and Brynn Farwell really makes Elevation stand out. Vocal prowess was the emphasis on the next night as well. All the way from New York, Upstate warmed the room with their lush sound. Three female vocalists wove a harmonic tapestry with four acoustic instruments breathing the wind into the sails. Gene Evaro Jr. followed with two sets of sexy, funky, neo-desert soul. Evaro’s voice is bewitching enough in its own right, but even more so now with the addition of two female back up vocalists. As was the case with their previous performance, the band whisked us into an exotic improvisational realm during its encore. Considering they are self-admittedly a band that doesn’t jam, this anomaly speaks volumes to the comfort factor artists relish at the Crazy Horse.
Jeff Austin Band
People were palpitating with anticipation for the return of the Jeff Austin Band on Wednesday the 17th. The former Yonder Mountain String Band frontman has crystallized his solo project with a lineup that is ferocious enough to make any bluegrass fan drool. Banjo virtuoso Kyle Tuttle is the “x-factor”, bringing a notable swagger and playfulness to the group. Speed is one thing, but it’s the tasteful spaciousness of his phrasing that makes his solos soar. All four guys seemed perpetually amused with the stream of consciousness they were hurling back and forth. The crowd was overjoyed that Austin introduced a number of Yonder classics back into his repertoire – several of which were greeted with howls of euphoria. Their take on The Rolling Stones “No Expectations” was one of the many highlights.
Our unstoppable roll continued with the Third Thursday ritual featuring Band Beyond Description. The ever-changing lineup had even more star power than usual thanks to the beloved Joe Craven adding percussion, violin and mandolin. His “Sometimers” bandmates – Bruce McMillan (guitar, dobro) and Jonathan Stoyanoff (bass) – were more than happy to hop aboard the jam express. This event delivers the goods month after month, but this one had a particularly sacred vibe. They treated the audience to an all-acoustic first set and an electric second set. Gems were unearthed from the coveted Garcia-Grisman catalog (which Craven was a part of) including “Walking Boss,” “Russian Lullabye” and “Dreadful Wind and Rain.” McMillan handled the lion’s share of these vocals with his unique timbre breathing newfound resonance into the timeless crevices. Craven’s transcendent musicianship shone throughout.
pigWar with Zahira
Amidst all of the action, some people overlooked a lesser-known show like pigWar and DoveDriver on Friday the 19th. These ultra-funky and soulful Portland bands brought their “A-game.” pigWar wielded a horn section and a dazzling guest vocalist named Zahira. The blonde dreaded priestess brought the house down with one of the best covers we’ve ever heard here – Stone Temple Pilots’ “Plush.” Guitarist Teddy Presberg guided the ensemble through several of his striking original arrangements.
People who thought they were entering just another light-hearted funk show on Saturday the 20th were in for a jolt to their systems. Yes, Katdelic’s music can be categorized under the umbrellas of funk, rock and soul. However, their approach comes with a jagged intensity and punk edge that could peel the paint off the walls. Maybe the fact that they have two bass players has something to do with that. Along with the psychedelic, sensory-overload, projection show they brought, this was like entering a multi-media funhouse. Rocking out at blistering volume for three hours straight, the capacity crowd certainly got plenty of bang for its buck. One veteran later declared it to be the “hardest he had ever danced.”
Rock-tober madness showed no respite as California Kind turned another Wednesday into a cosmic adventure. When Barry Sless’s angelic guitar tone starts swirling around the room, you are quickly reminded that you are in the presence of greatness. Rob Barraco’s bouncy keys and John Molo’s syncopated drums frame every moment with surreal briliance. It was a bummer not to have Pete Sears laying down the bass, but his fill-in, Bill Laymon (David Nelson Band), left little to be desired. The dynamic guitarist/vocalist Katie Skene wrangles it all in with her charming leadership. The specifics escape me now, but I can assure you everyone walked away tingling with bliss and fulfillment.
I took a field trip to the Hangtown Halloween Ball in Placerville for the last weekend of the month so I can’t comment firsthand on Grease, Grit and Grime, The Sam Chase and the Untraditional or Fly Tiger. However, I know on good authority that all three were in line with the month’s volcanic trajectory. Instead of our usual Halloween entertainment with DJ Neptune, we wrapped up the month with a Phish webcast; live from the MGM Arena in Las Vegas. We’ve been broadcasting live streams here since the beginning which is greatly appreciated by our Phish-loving community.
The band pulled off its most impressive prank yet, tricking their fans into thinking they were covering an album by an obscure Scandinavian band from 1981. Instead it turned out to be 12 original songs heard for the first time. The impressive, dance-inducing material was aligned with the alter-ego of this fabricated band – Kasvot Vaxt. The overall effect was exponentially amplified by a visually resplendent set, lighting and choreography.
The level of creativity Phish was achieving – both as Kasvot Vaxt and while playing their own material – navigated uncharted territory. Whether people were Phishheads or not, they stood transfixed, watching the magic unfold on the big screen. The HD image and crystalline sound were so exceptional, this was clearly the next best option to being at the concert (and even better in some way). Phish played three sets extending all the way until 1:30am. We fit a costume contest in there with a guy in a walrus suit calling himself “Party Animal” taking first prize.
The only downside was that Deltaphonic was planning on playing a 90 minute set for us starting at midnight. We had to adapt and snuck in two short sets; one during a Phish setbreak and the other when they were done. The New Orleans-based duo made the most of their limited time and instantly won over the crowd with their funky, soulful, bluesy, voodoo rock. It was fitting to cap off the month with a night that was so overloaded with monumental music, it could barely be contained.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
We have no qualms about proclaiming music as a form of escape here at the Crazy Horse. Life can be tough and often the best medicine is to immerse one’s self in a live performance. The more engaging the music is, the more likely we are to leave all our worries behind and embrace the joy of the moment. Magic in the Other colors on both sides of the line in that regard.
They clearly are a vehicle for departure from reality, yet a couple of their songs don’t shy away from examining the struggles society is confronting these days. Who knows if people really absorb lyrics in a live setting, but if they do, it’s refreshing to see a band that isn’t afraid to wear its heart on its sleeve.
When I first heard Magic in the Other a year ago, I didn’t even think vocals were a part of their mix. This trio from the Bay Area is comprised of three guys who are committed to playing their instruments at the highest level. The mastermind behind the group is Ezra Lipp. A drummer who has gained acclaim as a frequent member of Phil Lesh and Friends. Much to my surprise, it turns out that he is a fantastic singer as well. His role as lead vocalist in this band is an essential component of MITO’s unique charm. His voice has this endearing vulnerability which makes every word resonate with truth. Everyone is always amazed with singing drummers and this one definitely deserves a lot of praise.
Bassist and vocalist Steve Adams is known as a founding member of ALO – a funky rock band that has earned a solid fanbase. He also entered the national spotlight playing with Nicki Bluhm and The Gramblers and starred in several viral YouTube videos. He’s always had this silky smooth, bouncy groove. With Magic in the Other, the music has sparked him into a creative renaissance. The songs call for a much more nuanced jazz sensibility than we’ve heard from him in the past. His melodic excursions present more opportunities to walk on the dark side of the street. After watching him play for the past 17+ years, this transformation is something of a revelation.
The wild card of the bunch is guitarist Roger Riedlbauer. Those versed in the underground Bay Area music scene have been watching him play with a wide spectrum of bands for many years. After seeing several video clips, I expected him to be this moody jazz savant. I was happy to see him transmitting a jubilant vibe throughout the show. Certainly this had a lot to do with feeding off of the high energy Crazy Horse crowd. He has carved out his own distinct style which is built upon tonal ingenuity and a more percussive approach than most guitarists. At times I wondered where the keyboard was coming from. While Roger’s technical abilities are off the charts, they are surpassed by the way he effortlessly infuses every note with warmth and vivacity. One has to relish the seamless dexterity of psychedelic, jazzy jamband guy mingling with concise indie rocker.
This tour was a celebration of the release of Magic in the Other’s debut album – What We Know is Possible. Considering that they have only been a band for a little over a year, everything about their music and overall operation is conducted with the seriousness of a group that plans on being around for a long time. They wear suits onstage at every show, establishing a striking and appropriate image. They opened with the album’s catchiest song, “How is This All Ending?” I would have preferred they build up to it, but it was effective in turning heads out of the gates. They soon made their way to the instrumental jazz fusion movement – “East of Change.” Even for the casual observer, it’s obvious to recognize that this is a band in a perpetual state of musical conversation. It was as if an imaginary bubble shielded them from the outside world. All that mattered was listening intently to each other while crafting a water color of rolling soundscapes.
Considering most of the audience was completely unfamiliar with them, MITO did a great job of ingratiating themselves with an array of well-chosen covers. For me personally, they couldn’t have played anything headier than David Bowie’s “Starman” with a savage foray through the Grateful Dead’s “Stronger than Dirt” in the middle. Ezra’s voice suited the Bowie tune perfectly and the Dead jam was a tasteful nod to all the time he spends playing that band’s music. I was told they did a Smashing Pumpkins song as well, but working the front door doesn’t always allow me to pay as much attention as I’d like.
Just about any modern band is a product of a cornucopia of influences. MITO comes across as a trio of guys who have spent more than their share of time inhaling vast vinyl archives. Their song list moved through a wide array of genres while maintaining a common thread which made them all seem like parts of the same story. They elevated the Crazy Horse to the feel of a club rather than a bar with their cerebral jazz fusion and unabashed indie-rock. There were subtle elements of prog thrown in there, reflective of Roger’s King Crimson fanhood. Later in the show they made the natural progression into the realm of funk which was expectedly well received by the audience. Ezra even left the kit to accentuate the mood with his emphatic moves on the dance floor.
There’s so many great drummers out there but it’s rare that they stand out to this degree. Every torrent of beats leapt off the skins in technicolor cascades. I’m not savvy enough to describe from a technical point of view why I consider Ezra Lipp one of the best drummers in the country. I can tell you that whatever code he’s cracked sends me spiraling down organic corridors of intrigue. Maybe he’s such a thoughtful, introspective person off stage that his hunger to connect is manifest in this profound rhythmic dialect. Philosophy aside, whatever he’s doing creates a complex foundation empowering his bandmates to shine to their fullest potential.
Closing out the night with the album’s cathartic anthem – “Light in My Window” – a dozen late arrivals gravitated to the stage. As the band sang, “If it’s love that you are and you know that you are, leave a light in my window,” people swayed and couples held each other with long gazes. In that moment, Magic in the Other’s visions for the future were crystal clear.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.
If you name your band after a Steely Dan song, you’ve already charted a course for greatness in my book. If you have Eric DiBerardino on bass, Jeremy Korpas on guitar and Corey Sheridan on drums, consider yourself signed, sealed and delivered.
DiBar, as he is affectionately known, instantly won us over when he graced our stage in years past with the sublime indie rock band, Go By Ocean. He is better known for his work with Tea Leaf Green. Korpas and Sheridan were making their Crazy Horse debuts when The Loyal Scam owned our stage on Saturday, August 18. Even though it had been at least 10 years since I’d seen Korpas perform with the San Francisco indie rockers Big Light, the reverberations of his guitar prowess still lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. Witnessing his heroics over the course of the night was like taking a quantum leap into the future.
The Loyal Scam only play a handful of shows each year because the members are busy with other projects and jobs that actually pay the rent. When it’s go-time, the chemistry they’ve established from years of collaboration is on full display. Opening with John Scofield’s deliciously funky, jazz flight “Hottentot” unveiled the mind-expanding excursion we were embarking upon. As songs continued to come at us – both covers and originals – the band was creating something completely fresh right before our eyes. This was three guys going inward, letting the moments breathe, embracing the space in between notes, listening to each other intently and challenging the audience in ways we don’t experience nearly often enough.
We planned on watching webcasts of the Phish festival called Curveball all weekend, live from upstate New York. Sadly the event was canceled. It was a welcome consolation that The Loyal Scam treated us to their interpretations of four Phish songs. “The Moma Dance” slayed the bouncy funk and “Rift” scintillated with old school urgency . “Punch You in the Eye” got the second set cracking and segued into Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs.” It was here when it seemed that the band’s instrumental phenomenon began to take over. We’re so accustomed to lyrics carrying the essence of a song across. When you’re familiar with a song and only have the melody to latch onto, it transmits a whole different impact.
We all know that a guitar can sing, but Korpas has mastered it in such a way that you can practically hear a phantom voice harmonizing through the mix. He has a tonal obsession like all the best guitarists and utilizes his palette of effects like Basquiat in his prime. Plus, he’s really fun to watch with his methodical construction of solos and animated eruptions. DiBar has a lovable stage presence in his own rite. Casually focused and perpetually amused, he is not shy about countering Korpas with a strummy, groove-centric approach on his bass. That leaves Sheridan to hold it down which he does on his own terms; coloring outside the lines with admirable finesse.
Progressing on to the Pink Floyd double whammy of “In the Flesh” into “Pigs (Three Different Ones),” we found ourselves staggering through a chunky rhythmic soup. It’s difficult to do justice to Pink Floyd without keyboards, yet The Loyal Scam’s take on these classics left little to be desired. One of the highlights of the show was the Genesis deep cut, “Follow You Follow Me.” Korpas reached his blissful psychedelic zenith with a solo that spiraled beyond the walls of the Crazy Horse, dancing down Commercial Street. Continuing on the path of escalation, Zeppelin’s “No Quarter” was so forceful, it might have brought John Bonham back from the dead. When the band was done, Korpas sat down on the edge of the stage and rested his head in his hands. He is in fact human after all.
Encapsulating Tyler Blue
If you have walked through the door during a show at the Crazy Horse over the last six + years, you've probably been greeted by Tyler Blue. When we are truly moved by music, the feelings are hard to describe. Through these reivews, Tyler intends to crystallize emotions and illuminate reflections while bringing the spirit of a show back to life.