Rock and roll, then. That’s what it’s going to be. The wheel of modern music classification is spun, and for Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers it has landed on pure and unmistakable American rock. It seems a good fit for the foursome, and fortuitously, for their fans.
In case you don’t make it beyond this sentence, let me take this opportunity to implore you – go see the Sixers live. Unless you hate fun, it’s likely to be a night well spent. They were the opening band on this night at the Great American, but in one of those rare cases, they actually outshone the main event. Their show jumped over the self-importance fence to play with the neighbors on this night, and they gave the fans something to smile about throughout this packed show. Not only did they fire off some favorites of their own like “Uninspired Gambling” and “See you later, See you Soon” with a relished fervor, but they called forth the ghosts of big hair past with a medley of 80s hits that had the crowd hollering. They quite simply added an all-too-uncommon spice to their live show -- they made their music fun.
At no point was this more evident than when the stage was cleared for bassist and keyboardist Keith Karlson. Kellogg asked the crowd if they had seen the movie Napoleon Dynamite, and then indicated that they had their own high school outcast in the band. Enter Karlson – who then did a startlingly good impression of the climactic dance from the movie. He was jumping up and down, laying down some sweet moves; thoroughly absurd and absolutely hilarious. The mixture of hooting laughter and applause was bigger than any opening band had likely seen at the Great American in some time.
The band’s music has an emotive and easy-going character; reflective lyrics merged with a heartland sound. Their songs are almost entirely a study of relationships –not just romantic ones, but family, friendships and people-in-passing. And while Kellogg is clearly the architect of the stories the songs tell, the band as a whole brings them to life. As if to demonstrate just how much of a gestalt the band has, their final song was an inclusive a capella cover of “Up on Cripple Creek” that had the whole house singing and laughing along.
The Sixers weren’t always chuckling alongside their leader onstage, though. Having cut his teeth playing solo for years, Kellogg only decided about two years ago to add a band, and to have that band be more than a nameless background. This was an interesting choice, with the current torrent of successful twenty-something songwriters playing on their own. Kellogg could’ve followed this path and would likely have been successful, considering his unique voice and penchant for a gripping turn of lyrical phrase. So why had Kellogg broken from contemporary standards and made this a group effort? The answer was apparent as you watched the band onstage. As good a time as their audience was having, Stephen and the guys were having more fun than anyone else in the place. Their smiles were almost guilty admissions: “Are you seriously going to PAY us to do this?” This sharing of the spotlight is another point of proof that Kellogg sees this musical life as more than just a means to an end. Playing music is an end in itself, and judging by the reaction of the crowd at this show, that end is only just beginning for Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers.
