Onward:
Chicago -
OK, I'm old. Chicago made me dance. Does Anybody Really Know
What Time It Is? Jezus, I looked like Carlton from The Fresh
Prince Of BelAir!
How many of you crypt keepers remember when they were called, The
Chicago Transit Authority? C'mon now, exhale all of that old 1969
reefer!
Well, our whole band stayed after our own set to watch them weave
their old-school magic; the trio of horns blaring their choreographed
cacophony,
their richly aging voices still full of the disparate timbres that
made them so distinct - Man! Don't you miss when the bands were all
different?
We were so amped that when we returned to the hotel, we spent the
next two hours in the lobby drinking wine and playing
dominoes.
Peter Cincotti -
Barely a 30 year-old youngster from NYC, this self-accompanying
pianist/vocalist has made something of a mark in multiple art
genres.
Basically, a pop-rocker with a jazz background, Cincotti has stuck
his foot in the door of stage, studio and cinema, now touring with
his own band
and catching a respectable following to boot. A good voice, a nice
repertoire and matinée looks combine with a performance ethic
which respects
the lyric, the melody and the classics - a breath of fresh air in my
book. Additionally, one of our own comrades, Keith Robinson, funked
up the band
with both electric and acoustic guitar and backing vocals. Hey, we're
all ships passing in the night!
Richie Havens -
Among the last of the straight-up acoustic guitar - stand up and sing
protest songs - 60s throwbacks, Richie Havens highlighted an
evening
which paid respect to Woodstock legends. With nary a hippie in
the house, Havens, Alvin Lee (leader of the English 60s band,
Jaybird) and Dana Fuchs
(a 30 year old Janis Joplin clone - sans the Southern Comfort
- whose voice is wonderfully colored with Blues and Gospel) played to
the black tie
audience, who received them both well and surprisingly, memorably. I
was hoping that by evening's end, the Sporting Club main floor would
revert to
some semblance of that free love nakedness that became iconic in the
later depictions of the Woodstock era but alas, neither tie nor
halter was loosed.
I spent a good half hour after the spectacle kibitzing backstage with
Richie Havens, who is looking quite healthy at age 67.
Fete De La Croix Rouge -
This was the Royal Command Performance of the Sporting Club
season. With Prince Albert and his sister, Princess Caroline in
attendance,
security was the order of the day and we could see it building for
two days prior to our actual involvement. What, however, was most
amazing to me,
was the transformation of the outdoor, surrounding grounds of the
Sporting Club into an open air palace. A parquet carpet was built
over more than
one hundred square meters of lawn, replete with ornate lamps, hanging
from golden posts, a fine cotton canvas, beige, dance floor and
a private,
three room, guarded gazebo for the Royal Family. Yes dammit, the band
had to enter the stage through the parking lot and up the rock-pile
staircase.
(some things never change) Twenty-four hours after the sophisticated
shindig, the whole shebang was dismantled!
Macy Gray -
Here is a woman who personifies the axiom, Never Give Up.
Sparsely popular in the USA but with much more of a following in
Britain and Europe,
Macy overcame too many failures, both personal and professional, to
list in this blog. From being hissed offstage after butchering
the Star Spangled Banner
at the 2001 NFL Hall Of Fame Game to being ousted from
Barbados for using gross profanity onstage last year, she
has survived to make many commendable
appearances on the concert stages of the world and even on
screen in a few movies. Her band certainly served up the serious
Cali-Funk to the Sporting Club crowd,
eventually inducing the petrified audience to get up, loosen up
and dance and even as they relievedly melted into a genuine
acceptance of her showmanship,
Macy remained true to her inescapable, raunchy past by wiping
her crotch with a stage towel. Lord! Save us from
ourselves!
Caetano Veloso -
Along with Antonio Carlos Jobim and Gilberto Gil, Caetano Veloso
completes what most historians and musicians consider the triumvirate
of Brazilian composers.
Appearing at the Sporting Club with a chair, a microphone and
a guitar, he proceeded to rend every heart within earshot. With
a voice under spiritual control, he
displayed a range that challenged both whale and eagle. His
simple guitar voicings wove an atmosphere to contain the most
translucent wisps of his lyrics yet
he, without warning, would erupt into rhythmic, percussive waves
which left the audience stumbling over his angry musical crags.
Still, all of his cadences were
full of forgiveness and many a teary eye was wiped only to be
reddened again with the salt water of his music's mist. Begged
incessantly for encores, Caetano provided five,
ending the evening with an a cappella rendition of a Brazilian folk
song. No applause for his finale, the exhausted and possessed
audience serenaded HIM off of the stage.
Jusqu'a la prochaine fois!
Fino alla prossima volta!