The
Chicago Afrobeat Project could not have a more plainly descriptive
name, yet the band's new CD transcends the ordinary. The group,
which returns to the Quad Cities with a show on Friday at the
Redstone Room, does its fair share of aimless jamming - all
pleasant - but on several occasions it reaches highs that lift up
the whole endeavor.
It's
1927, the jazz age, with poet Carl Sandburg toting a funny little
guitar and strumming carelessly to the old tunes: "Whisky Johnny,"
"Where O Where Is Old Elijah?" The Galesburger/Chicagoan
published his wildly popular American
Song Bag with 280 songs
from sailors, cowboys, railroad hands, pioneers, prisoners, and
preachers. Sandburg, motivated by
The People, Yes, finds
democratic merit in these common songs.
In every concert performed by Rockapella, the a cappella quintet that first garnered fame with its appearances (and title-song crooning) on PBS's long-running children's game show Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, a segment is devoted to a solo by the group's vocal percussionist, Jeff Thacher.
When
you look at publicity photos of the band on its Web site and
elsewhere, stereotypes about hippies come to mind. There are rural
settings, and some long hair, and some naughty bits - yes, a pair
of breasts, pubic hair, and even a penis or two.
Describing the music that he's spent more than half of his 38 years learning to master, blues guitarist Nick Moss states, "There's a lot of nuance that people don't realize," and underscores his point with an unusual - but apt - analogy.
Listening
to Will Destroy You,
Driver of the Year's release from earlier this year, the first
thing that popped into my head was Flight of the Conchords, the
comedy folk duo from New Zealand that scored an HBO series on which
the band's fan base never grew much larger than one.
To understand the Degree of Difficulty inherent in the Nova Singers' season-opening concert, first imagine singing a particular vocal line - be it soprano, alto, tenor, or bass - against the three other vocal lines, and doing it a cappella, to boot.
For
a band that's had its current lineup for five years, the
Cincinnati, Ohio-based Pike is maddeningly difficult to get a handle
on.
On
"Puttin' People on the Moon," the Driver-By Truckers'
Patterson Hood sings a litany of tragedies personal and regional:
"Mary Alice got cancer just like everybody here / Seems everyone I
know is gettin' cancer every year / And we can't afford no
insurance, I been 10 years unemployed / So she didn't get no chemo
so our lives was destroyed / And nothin' ever changes, the cemetery
gets more full / And now over there in Huntsville, even NASA's shut
down too."







