Show Review

Anyone familiar with ancient Western science (or young enough to have grown up with the highly underrated “Captain Planet” cartoons) knows that, as recently as a few thousand years ago, people believed the universe was made up of four basic elements: earth, fire, wind, and water. Well, as complicated as the world of the 21st century is, a similar model can be applied to live music - in particular, the pieces which come together to make up a successful performance: the band, the crowd, the venue, and the production. Sure, most concertgoers venture out mostly because of the band, yet, these other elements play a huge part in separating a truly memorable night from just another show. Although some of these elements might not be as tangible as others, they certainly can make or break a show as much as the performance of the band themselves. With this in mind, the experience of attendees at Galactic’s performance on a rainy October night at Mr. Smalls Theater in suburban Pittsburgh was severely diminished by the venue’s inability to match, with respect to its responsibilities, the band’s high energy show. Although the next incarnation of Galactic (an instrumental quintet sans departed vocalist Theryl "The Houseman" DeClouet) debuted several potent new numbers as well as polished versions of old favorites, the lack of production and crowd friendliness condemned this show to being “just another night out”.

On paper, Mr. Smalls has potential to be one of the most incredible venues in the country. After all, it’s not every day that a concertgoer ventures into an actual church to see live music, especially when many see music as a religious and spiritual experience of sorts. Yet, the actual renovation and production of the club is something that was obviously not thought out to accommodate groups on the level of Galactic. Upon entering, I was shocked to see a small stage with an abysmal sound system and just four small can-type lights on each side. The visual part of the show was saved by Galactic’s projector screen, but the venue’s addition to the mix was nonexistent. I can understand the less-is-more philosophy, but this was an obvious case of cutting corners and not some calculated attempt to increase the intimacy of the venue. The crowd seemed to be out of place, as hip-hop garbed bluegrass fans (I had no idea there even was such a thing) spun around concrete-footed hipsters to the music of openers, the Hackensaw Boys.

I wandered around to get a feel for the room and encountered the venue’s fatal flaw. Now, before I continue, let me stress I value policies which give dancers more room and which limit smoking and drinking to those old enough and responsible enough to do so. But, there I was, three-quarters of the way at the back of the venue, staring at a divider separating the “beer” area from the dance area. No one under 21 could enter this area, and no one with a beverage could leave. This made things extremely cramped and uncomfortable for the thirsty folks, and, to my utter shock, Mr. Smalls had one bartender and one beer line (about 100 folks deep). Maybe someone should suggest to the venue that they increase their efficiency by hiring another bartender and using their second tap (and, consequently, their profits will increase, which could be invested in production, hint, hint). I don’t even drink at shows anymore, but I found the fact that, at any given time, about a quarter of the crowd was waiting in line to be one of the most poorly thought-out situations I have experienced in my tenure as professor of live grooveology.

All these problems aside, Galactic still played a hell of a show. Keyboardist Richard Vogel took center stage on this particular night (figuratively – his keyboard setup is still stage left), driving the crescendos of some of the new tunes with soaring synth leads. Ben Ellman stepped up on “Funky Horn” and blasted out some bold brass that reverberated around the room. The early highlight was clearly “Tiger Roll” and “Space Headz,” both of which are staples in the band’s repertoire but seemed reenergized and certainly showed that there is still room to enhance past endeavors. Bassist Robert Mercuiro played the part of low-end accentuater, as his driving lines kept the beats bobbing and the foundation solid. The instrumental form of Galactic owes so much to Mercurio, whose understated additions made it possible for the guitar, keys, and sax to expand and annunciate with such ease and room for experimentation. I found out after the show that many of the new tunes Galactic was playing were less than a month old, having materialized in some studio sessions in the weeks leading up to the tour. They certainly could have fooled me, as the composition and versing on these new gems reflect a highly polished take on their sometimes stripped-down sound.

The second set featured one of the better Stanton Moore solos I have had the pleasure of witnessing in a while. Even most casual fans know that Moore is a phenomenon on the drums, pretty much regarded as one of the best drummers in the world, so it’s not hard to expect something special. Yet, in the previous few shows I have seen, Moore’s solos seemed a bit gimmicky, with him standing up and running around the kit, all the while keeping better time than a Rolex Presidential. Moore seems to have realized there is little left to prove with flare; he’s all about substance these days, and, between his perfect percussive punctuations and Mercurio’s bottom-end, the band has nothing but solid offerings for their dance-hungry fans. Guitarist Jeff Raines took some time to show off his highly-underrated chops with a bit of guitar sorcery, as he bubbled up incredible riffs from his cauldron of funk. The crowd overcame the dampening of the venue at times, but, unfortunately, the end of the second set was filled with chatter and some cell-phone calls about 'late night plans.' This was unfortunate, as “Burnin’ It”, “Calypso Minor”, and “Blackeyed Pea” would have left many devastated on any other night. The encore, a downbeat and inspiring number called “Today’s Blues,” sounded like a page out of a secret cook book of abstract instrumentation and could be an indication of a much more mature side which the band will foster and nourish in upcoming years. The song very well could be a cover, as it sounded instantly familiar, yet, I was unable to place it, even with some post-show research.

Sure, some concertgoers had a wonderful time hearing what they could make out of the inferior sound system, as their favorite band delivered a solid and upbeat set, but all the seasoned veterans I spoke to agreed that something was missing, and it wasn’t the Houseman and his trademark zoot suits. Mr. Smalls Theater has a lot of potential, but those who travel two hours for a show and pay $20 to get it deserve a lot more that it provided. Due to the poorly planned layout and half-hour beverage lines, many fans spent their nights cramped in the back of the poorly lit and hollow-sounding venue instead of adding to the vibe. And the vibe is what makes those certain stops on a tour into the stuff of legend. That being said, fans should be highly encouraged to check out the band when they come to their town. Hopefully all the elements will fall into place, and Galactic’s new sound will shake the earth, fire up the crowd, blow you away with tight sound and lights, and make the futuristic funk flow like a flood throughout the venue.

Setlist -

SET ONE: Clockstopper, Forbidden Horn, Funkybird, Tiger Roll, Space Headz, Mercamon, Charlie Dozen, Metermaid, Funky Miracle, Tippi Toes, Garbage Truck

SET TWO: Daydreaming, Go Go, Spy Hunter, The Message, Doublewide, Burnin' It, Who Took The Happi, Calypso Minor, Blackeyed Pea

E: Today’s Blues