Showing posts with label Big Sam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Big Sam. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

KATIA MORAES CHARMS, BUT BIG SAM STEALS THE SHOW; TUAREGS TIDAWT THIS FRIDAY IN PASADENA






Like I said before, if you’re a true music aficionado, whether musician, promoter, critic, or mere fanatic, the pay-off is that moment when music just knocks you on your ass. You went in expecting nothing, got blown away, and then left with a wet spot in your mind where something hard and unyielding used to be. That’s just what happened Saturday night at MacArthur Park courtesy of Big Sam’s Funky Nation. I didn’t think it could happen two weeks in a row, after Del Castillo reminded me of why I used to love hanging in Austin. Now Big Sam comes along and makes me want to go back to N’Awlins. I’ve never been such a huge fan of New Orleans music really, Cajun and Zydeco sure, but that ain’t the Big Easy. I’ve been to Mardi Gras, Jazz & Heritage fests, Bourbon Street late-night staggers, and private Meters parties in Manhattan, but I’ve never been more than politely appreciative and thankful, never moved. Saturday night I mean I was literally MOVED, like up out of my seat. I had no choice. If I’d known Big Sam used to be the Dirty Dozen trombonist, that might explain it, but I didn’t know that. Now that I know he usually has a full horn section with him, I want the full Monty, or the full Sam that is, and he’s a big guy. His band are grade-A jazz musicians laying down pure funk, featuring Adam Matazar on organ and Casey Robinson on lead guitar. They’ll be at the Continental Club in south Austin on the 23rd this month. Don’t miss it. Hey, wait a minute… where am I? What year is this? What identity problem?

The LACMA non-stage was perfect for Katia Moraes of Pure Samba earlier Saturday evening, enabling her to walk right out into the crowd in her frequent exhortations to dance and to love. Her charm is infectious; few would dare refuse. That’s what’s I like about speakers of Romance languages- they’re so romantic. If Dennis Hopper epitomized the northern barbarian outlook in the movie Water World with his line, “Don’t just stand there- kill something!” Ms. Moraes one-ups him with the Romantic counterpart, “Don’t just stand there- kiss something!” Katia Moraes’ is samba almost to the point of bossa nova, sleek and sexy but most of all sensual, fingers interlocking fingers, hands holding hands with Nature and everything else surrounding, including him or her, lost in the moment. And this is a down-to-earth moment, too, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and just one of the guys. But don’t be fooled by her tom-boy casualness. She really is a good looker, and a good singer too. I don’t know how her other band Sambaguru differs from Pure Samba, but I plan to find out. I’ve been to Brazil looking for music like this and only found second-rate rock, passable folk, and novelty acts in a festival presided over by Gilberto Gil. What does that say? It wasn’t Rio

Friday was also a good day for music. I managed to catch a bit of Chekere’ at MacArthur and also some of Jaipur Kawa at Cal Plaza. Chekere’ is a pretty darn good Latin jazz band featuring Yvette Summers on percussion and vocals and Eric Luis Gonzalez on trumpet. Yvette is quite charismatic and full of thoughts and ideas, something of a self-styled African wonder woman, and insists on talking even though she’s been warned to ‘shut up and play,’ but she was actually spot-on with her comments on African culture, sometimes to my surprise. Gonzalez can certainly wail on the t-horn and the whole band is quite good. Any place besides LA that would be more than enough. Jaipur Kawa is another story. If the mere spectacle of an Indian brass band isn’t enough for you, then the guy balancing a bowling ball off his nose certainly is. I’m only exaggerating a little bit, but the point is that the spectacle overrides the music. The only problem is that it’s really not enough of a spectacle to be a real spectacle. There’s a reason circuses have three rings, and even small ones have lots of people with lots of things going on. Any less than that and I’m thinking ‘tourist schtick.’ I expected the guy to charm a snake out of his pants at any moment. Still these guys are fun if only ‘India lite.’ It’s cheaper than a flight to Delhi.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Irish music either, though always respectful mind you, and definitely a bit skeptical about so-called ‘Celtic’ music, soaring and wailing, mystical and magical, with overtones of Lindisfarne and undercurrents of little people. But you can’t beat traditional Irish music for drinking in a pub and getting happy with your friends. Okay, so MacArthur Park is not exactly Kilkenny, but you can still have fun with it. That’s the kind of music Ken O’Malley and his Twilight Lords played Thursday, along with some other folksy songs by fellow sympathizers such as Van Morrison and Townes Van Zandt. Sounds good to me.

Irish music and culture have affinities with the Mexican, however bizarre that may seem at first glance. They both come by circuitous routes before meeting in Catholic churches and a sentimental attachment to homeland. Ireland is the last stand of Gaelic- i.e. Gallic, Galatian- culture after a centuries-long migration from that uncertain Indo-European heartland through Central Europe, France, and England. One strand even got lost in Anatolia, which is only known because it’s Biblical. Mexican culture of course begins from that uncertain Asian heartland (possibly the same as the Indo-European) and winds its way through the Americas before finding itself ‘down there,’ then mixing it up with European Spaniards coming the other way. One strand even found itself in Texas where it mixed culturally with not-so-long-ago German immigrants who taught them the polka and gave them the accordion. Thus a new genre of ‘Mexican’ music was born in exile. That’s the music Juan Manuel Barco’s Tejano conjunto played Wednesday night, complete with narrative and history. These guys may not have full professional chops and stage presence yet, but they’ve got lots of heart. There’s plenty of time for the other. They’re only in their sixties. Dreams die hard.

It’s another good week for world music coming up. First there’s Pistolera at the Mac on Wednesday playing their own unique brand of Mexican ‘alt-folklorico’ the way women would do it if they could. They can. I saw these ladies at Webster Hall NY earlier this year amidst the cluster-funk of GlobalFest, and they rock out. Rangoli will follow them with Indian dance on Thursday and then CHANA with electronic musica Latina on Friday. Then there’s Tuareg bluesmen Tidawt out at Levitt in Pasadena on Friday, playing the kind of music that Tinariwen brought to the forefront last year. Argentinians Los Pinguos follow them on Saturday. Luis Conte Cuba is at H&H tonight Tuesday and Chuchito Valdes is at LACMA on Saturday. Lal Meri does East Indian trip-hop at Cal Plaza at noon Friday. How can you get to six or eight shows in only four days? Practice.

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