Saratoga, CA, July 14th, 2009 - The Mountain Winery
Great show. I am so glad I had a chance to see Big Head Todd (with of course, his charming bestiary in tow). It was strange that the merch booth had only Sister Sweetly on tap as far as CDs go - I'd've not minded a chance to be tempted with whatever newest album they might conceivably be out on the road flogging for, if there is one. I mean, there was a concert DVD but I want album. If a band puts on a good show, I want to say "OK then! I will shell out for this new album, your latest best creative effort, this collection of new songs you've pitched me on." It's a gratifying transaction, a powerful sales push followed by the happy acquiescence of a satisfied customer! But can a show sell you on a concert DVD...? What would that even mean? Hey, good job on the concert, you convinced me to buy this other concert that I didn't go to. Huh?
But leave all that aside, because it is already aside. These guys are a great live band. They play with such character and zeal, such joy for it. The drummer was just, as he was playing, he was just the happiest guy in the whole amphitheater. He was so into it it was dangerously infectious - he was playing with his whole body, his head was nodding and lolling around like crazy with his eyes squinched tight and a whole-face grin; he'd throw his sticks up in the air not even bothering to catch them - pull out a spare! No missed beats from this guy. Apart from Todd on lead vocal and guitar, there was also a truck-stop fashion-plate bassist (you know what I mean) who knew exactly what to do with all four strings, and an organist/keyboardist who'd occasionally drag out and do wild justice to a lap steel slide guitar.
They played with passion and verve, now stately, now frenetic, toying with various styles (including one reggae-blues number and one awesomely smoove reggae-funksexy-70s-soul number) but all very firmly rooted in their signature blues rock and roll with distorted alt-rock flanges flaring proudly. Every song they played went down great, and on a number of numbers (especially "Broken-Hearted Savior" which still for me holds a spot in my heart, right where the throat catches) they reached a pitch where they were just crushing it on every kick of the drum for whole songs long. They played some of the classics that I knew them for, they threw a few covers in there but I couldn't tell who by. I'm sure some of what they played was newer material, too - it all sounded great to me. Can't believe I just lucked into these tickets on the day of! Big Head Todd, awright. What a score.
Blues Traveler, I wasn't a big fan really going in but I did give them my openest mind. I always respected the songcraft in their singles, and I appreciated how they put themselves across as a band in public. They seemed like a decent sort, but perhaps not really my speed or style. OK, I admit it: I am not the biggest fan of orgiastic virtuoso harmonica soloing. So I was a little leery there, on that score. But as I said, I put it aside and came in with my mind open. I always give a band 1 chance to kick my ass.
Hey, these guys are real for real. A powerhouse musical unit, and I don't mind saying, certainly even moreso than Big Head Todd & the Monsters. But that's not a knock - Big Head Todd & the Grrrs are just a little more laid back by nature and probably design. Blues Traveler on the other hand, they like to burn it pretty hot. I was impressed. Apart from a pretty tepid Cheap Trick cover that they seemed to want to be a big audience participation singalong song (and doesn't a band usually want to use one of their own songs for that? But maybe they don't write songs like that, I guess. OK.), they put few feet wrong and had fingers all over all the necessary pulses to keep the ear of the crowd happy, even blissed out.
So overall, yeah, BT rocked the house. Popper is one hell of a singer! And his harmonica playing left me stupid and wide-eyed - the effect live is just another world removed from what you get hearing the album version at background levels, where the harmonica kind of decoheres into a weird squalling squeal of kinked and tormented noodling bleats, shronks and squonks. Live, it was a muscular snaking writhe of a kind of frenetic pentatonic bebop that had too much blood, soul and spit to dismiss. He was chawing on those harmonicas like it was a turkey dinner! And producing these unbelievable white-hot twisted melodic lines that would just earworm into your disbelieving mind and then out your gaping mouth! Wow. I was enjoyably flummoxed by how little it seemed like showing off, and how much it seemed like stacked choirs of insane cherubim, coming maniacally rejoicing from one guy's mouth.
And after just about every song, he'd toss a harmonica into the crowd with a casual flip. That was really endearing. A nice souvenir for some lucky fan!
Two great bands that taste great together.
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