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DemocratandChronicle Page3C If Fourplay brought smooth jazz Eastman Theatre on Tuesday, the legendary Buddy Guy came through with hard blues on Thursday night. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame appeal was immediately evident, bringing smoldering, super- harged guitar chops and a smoky baritone voice. And the Xerox Rochester International Jazz Festival welcomed him with a standing ovation even before he tarted playing. He proceeded to throw fuel on the electric fire immediately, ripping into the apropos ight, I Got the with a chill-inducing solo. uy played the guitar the way a world-weary man might deliver his confession at the bar.
And though the ajority of the audience was eager to hear it, this preclude one presumptuous fan from shouting at Guy when the delivery became too subtle for his aste during just the second song of the night. come here for no the man stated luntly. The unfazed Guy replied with a smile and a uick retort I come here to play just for which was met with rapturous cheers. rom that moment, the show took an odd turn as a subtle yet tangible tension permeated the room. Even in front of an overwhelmingly friendly crowd, Guy eemed to take the incident to heart, interpreting it as a hallenge and determined to convert the negative energy into a showstopping performance.
uy later explained his varying musical moods: last you, then I break it down I try to please everybody, which is very hard to A nd with that gesture of humble transparency, he delved into the innuendo-laden Kind of Woman Is and proceeded to satisfy just about everyone ho was present. Throughout, the edgy performance was peppered with expletives, spur-of-the-moment expressions that fit the honesty of the music. Yet Guy never stopped telling the story that is the blues, whether through sage words or scorching solos. Man was a highlight, as the performer shifted effortlessly between song and conversation. lsewhere, Years was modified to Years while Guy went on to demonstrate just how little his age had anything to do with his playing.
he showman subsequently unleashed a bevy of notes that blurred into sheer blues fury, as he took an extend- solo into the audience, eventually leaving through he orchestra and continuing to play briefly in the atrium before bringing it back home into the hall. he set had a cover of the classic Give Me) A touching a cameo appearance by Rochester blues veteran Joe Beard, a longtime friend the headliner, and a captivating close with Your and Your) Hoochie Coochie matter what the tune, his love for playing to audi- nce was obvious, and his commitment to spirit of the musical moment never wavered. This was a show Roche ster will likely not soon forget. Kushner is a Rochester-area freelance writer. GUY BRINGS SHEER BLUES FURY TO EASTMAN Daniel J.
Kushner Blues legend Buddy Guy opens with Right, I've Got he during his headlining show Thursday. SHAWN PHOTOGRAPHER Imagine a 1957 Cadillac Brougham, 5,000 pounds of chrome and automotive excess, rolling down the avenue, windows wide open, the music of the day pouring into the street. The music of the day? That was the Joey DeFrancesco Trio at Kilbourn Hall Thursday night, Day Seven of the Xerox Rochester International Jazz Festival. DeFrancesco is a big goateed man, a physical match for that most intimidating of jazz instruments, the Hammond B-3 organ. a static piece of equipment but not.
animated, seemingly connected to the sounds that bringing out of the instrument, talking and singing along with the notes, heaving his body around on the bench with delight with a particularly robust riff. Everything swings with the Hammond B-3, from the Billie Holiday tune that to Horace Silv bluesy and a DeFrancesco composition, a tribute to fellow Hammond B-3 ace Dr. Lonnie Smith. The Hammond puts the bop in bebop. In the pantheon of jazz, the Hammond B-3 is coolness.
something that DeFrancesco has been doing for a while, but some people forget: He plays the trumpet. That goes back to when he was touring with Miles Davis, and DeFrancesco decided better learn that hing. He played a muted trumpet while sitting at the organ, and really, it sounded like Miles Davis. And it ounded like DeFrancesco, as he kept the Hammond B-3 bottom end going, working the keys with his left hand, dancing on the bass pedals with his feet and playing the horn with his right hand. Quite a trick.
uses words like when introducing the guys in the band, guitarist Jeff Parker and drummer eorge Fludas. At the end of that first set, someone deep in the Kilbourn crowd shouted, the No argument here. Appalachian overtime Imagine a group of men and women at the feed store, gathered around a big, mahogany chest. It says on the front, and fiddling with the dials, looking for the Grand Ole Opry when they come across it, Hey Mavis. Playing The Little Theatre, this sweet, rootsy outfit id take the long way to Appalachia.
a couple of bands coming out of said lead singer and banjo player Laurie Michelle Caner. Yeah, they do fiddles in Akron, Ohio. probably heard of at least not talking about Devo or Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders, but The Black Keys, whose Dan Aue rbach has written some lyrics for Hey Mavis. So a stamp of legitimacy. banjo was accompanied by acoustic guitar, lus a double bass and fiddle that frequently fell into a deep-string groove.
At that point the quartet is out of ands, so it needed a kick drum and a kick tambourine. And everyone was using their instruments to fine percussive effect. That bowed bass is a sad, wistful sound. But its suits ey Mavis, with a mood trending toward spooky. was a nice, sunny love Caner said after what oth- rs might call a dark love song.
next one, not so That was about how a bottle helps a woman get away from a man. Unfaithful men get a lot of hard looks from Hey Mavis: a ring around my inger, but it mean a Or how about, a man love a woman, with another on his And any- ime you pile trains and racial injustice, domestic violence and derelict fathers into one number, working Appalachian overtime. Hey Mavis has hit Rochester before, playing Abil ene Bar Lounge, and the band is at the club again in August. Its Halloween gig here was scary indeed: Hey avis came dressed as Van Halen. Voice from the past Imagine a bunch of 12-year-old kids in the 1930s, huddled around a small box.
a crystal radio, and oving the wires around, searching for a signal. a Brooklyn Dodgers baseball game, and Milton Berle, and then The Brain Cloud. I Zelda Fitzgerald finally leading her own band, eight decades after she died. This classy Brooklyn sex- et resurrected Bob Wills, King Oliver and Garden at Max of Eastman Place, music that now exists only in Woody Allen movies. But The Brain Cloud does it without apologies, and unexpectedly without hoving its anachronisms down the throats.
Only three of the six band members bothered to dress i period, but the five guys all really good players could have been onstage naked and no one would have noticed. Not with Tamar Korn, vocalist and loopy-noise siren. The Boopish Korn is personality plus, a wildly en- ertaining chanteuse of The Jazz Age. When Dennis Lichtman was playing fiddle, Korn was actually imitat- i ng it with her voice, dueting with him. This is a band that knows songs from 1914, but does them with such conviction that, everywhere they play, 78 rpm records and tuberculosis are back in style.
jazz haiku Imagine music that could not hear its own past, stuck with Van Halen Twitter.com/JeffSpevak1 DEFRANCESCO THE MAN OF A 7 Jeff Spevak Staff music critic Joey DeFrancesco leads his Joey DeFrancesco Trio during their 6pm show at Kilbourn Hall at the Xerox Rochester International Jazz Festival on Thursday. SHAWN PHOTOGRAPHER BE PART OF OUR COVERAGE Upload photos to Instagram and comment on acts on Twitter using the hashtag, and your posts will become part of our report. Also follow the hashtag to see the latest updates..
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