Sometimes you feel bad for not enjoying a show, but I guess that?s just the way the cookie crumbles.
I wasn?t all too familiar with Tea Leaf Green before heading over to the Knitting Factory to catch their set, having heard a smattering of songs here and there. I liked what I?d heard - music that was straddling the divide between jammy and rockin?, with a bluesy twang thrown in the mix occasionally. The first time I?d ever heard them was a track off a free CD that came bundled with Relix magazine and it was, without a doubt, the standout track among sixteen or seventeen others. Maybe reading about the band in Relix magazine should have clued me into what I?d be experiencing. Relix, while always willing to branch out beyond the scope of jam bands, is still mainly focused on that particular scene.
The scene is probably what held me back from enjoying the show to the fullest. On a night when I was tired and feeling lousy after work, it was a bit surreal to be thrust into the malformed main room of the Knitting Factory amidst a throng of 18-22 year old wookies set into full-on party mode. KFNY never runs on time and the show didn?t start until thirty minutes past when it should have. A PBR or two and a couple of scribbles in my journal later, the lights went down and the familiar whoops of a jamband crowd rose into the air, reminding me of Phish lots gone by.
Tea Leaf Green?s lineup is my favorite kind of setup for a band ? guitar, bass, drums, keyboard. Each member of the band was their own distinct character on stage, except for the lead singer. He was full of energy and the crowd was definitely into it, but something didn?t ring true to me - he was trying to channel Chris Robinson and Robert Plant, with some Mick-style arm-flailings thrown in for good measure, and it lacked a certain unique flair that you?d hope a vocalist would have.
And the more I thought about it, watching them, I realized this band just didn?t hold anything special for me. I couldn?t help but think of one of my favorite musical acts of all time, a Brooklyn group called RANA who I?d pay to see any day of the week, with precisely the same build as Tea Leaf Green. Suddenly Tea Leaf Green became, before my eyes, nothing but a poor man?s RANA, a sort of barnyard lounge version of that jam-rock hybrid sound.
It?s a great fault that many of us often succumb to, comparing one thing to another rather than judging that thing on its own merits alone. I had to give this to Tea Leaf Green ? they brought it. They got up on stage in front of a packed house that was ready for a big party, and they not only matched the crowd?s energy but even upped the ante. If I had gone into that show a Tea Leaf Green fan, I probably would have walked out a devotee. I couldn?t help but smile at the excitement pulsating from the fans surrounding me, and when I ducked out into the cold, wintry street after it was all over I certainly wished I was sharing in their glow, rather than simply riding one more cheap alcohol buzz off into the morning.
-------------------- Acid doesn't give you truths; it builds machines that push the envelope of perception. Whatever revelations came to me then have dissolved like skywriting. All I really know is that those few years saddled me with a faith in the redemptive potential of the imagination which, however flat, stale and unprofitable the world seems to me now, I cannot for the life of me shake. -Erik Davis
Edited by OneMoreRobot3021 (04/13/06 10:21 AM)
|