The murky cauldron of a Wednesday night in Manhattan brought out one of it’s most gifted residents to perform in the heart of the Big Apple’s Central Park. David Byrne, with some musical friends in tow, camped themselves on the Summer Stage in Ramsey Playfield to deliver a concert to the soaking, yet faithful crowd. Byrne brought with him the Tosca Strings who are a six-piece string ensemble from Austin Texas. Perhaps along with their violins and cellos they also packed up and brought this oppressive heat that has been residing in the city as of late, but that is a question for a different time, the night was about music.
Byrne, who has lived with and inside of the groove his whole musical life, is ever the artist. If he has a problem it is that he tries to ‘out unique’ himself at points. For this nights performance he had his game plan down pat, he would use the string ensemble with wit and charm, while his “normal” backing musicians, consisting of a drummer, a bass player and a percussionist, contribute a more rock/pop feel. It was the strings that David guided and danced with for most of the evening though, at times conducting and shimmying in unison. The night touched upon all aspects of his career, and served as a reminder to those in attendance that this is one of the great songwriters of the last 25+ years. His lyrics are so mystically obvious and seem to be germane to all facets of life while firmly attached to none. They continue to amaze and along with floating strings helped the crowd forget that storms were rolling through one after the other, drenching them like wharf rats.
Byrne’s uniqueness flared with a lazy (in an appropriate way) cover of Jimi Hendrix’s “One Rainy Wish,” fitting for the place and mood. During the beautiful “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody),” Byrne swayed around the stage, dancing a lap with his Chaplin-esque gyrations. When he had just about completed his course around the musicians he took a solid spill, falling hard on the stage. A bit rattled, it took him a stanza of singing to insert the passion back into his voice. When he did however the voice glowed. Some singers grow into their voice, others destroy it, and David Byrne has apparently been gargling with milk and ice cubes for the past 20 years, he sounds the same now as in 1982, and that is a joy. Songs from his new album Grown Backwards, such as “She Only Sleeps,” were warmly received but the eclectic crowd let out small roars for old gems such as “Psycho Killer” and “Life During Wartime.” Both had different arraignments with the strings providing the plucking and swooning, acting as a lifeline that the band clung too. The lack of an edge and an overall lower volume from the Low End was noticeable, but did not detract, the songs in turn took on an acoustic feel and made the fan’s simply smile and dance. No Remain In Light cross fading pulsing and driving rhythms to be found in the wet band shell on this night. When the rain, that had been as much a part of the show as the conga drums, let up during the Catherine Wheel nugget, “What A Day That Was,” umbrellas were folded and the crowd was ready. Byrne unveiled his newer operatic leanings late in the set and while his voice has not aged, only a fan (short for fanatic) would claim that it is fit for Opera.
After the opera piece, with dry skies, Byrne surprised the crowd by introducing the McCollough Sons of Thunder to the stage. A nine-piece brass band ambled up while Byrne’s band and the strings left. The “Thunderbirds” are a New York City, Trombone based, Gospel group, made up on this night of young men but lead by an elderly preacher named Edward Babb. Apparently at other times the band has around 16 members, complete with drums and tambourines with players ranging in age from their teens to eighty plus, but tonight it was just the young brass. They took some time to warm up but after 30 minutes of playing they were blowing out and up to the heavens. The same can not be said for the crowd however. While the music was inspirational and lively Byrne had played what felt like an incomplete set of music. Just when he was reaching his peak he yielded his spotlight to the Sons of Thunder. Most were shocked when the horns exited, and an MC came on stage to thank them and tell the crowd that the show had hit its curfew. Thanks, Good Night! People were clearly disappointed. Had the Thunderbirds collaborated with the ex-Talking Head front man and his band on a few tunes, the outcome would have been something special and surely would have satisfied the crowd, alas this was not to be.
Byrne has a wide taste in music and through out his career has combined them with varying degrees of success. His bands playing and collaboration with the Tosca Strings was top notch, however his stage organization and mishandling of the allotted time in the rainforest known as Central Park left a lot of damp feelings out in the mud on this June evening.
For more info see davidbyrne.com
