Soulive at The Roxy, December 16, 2010

Soul Kitchen
It was a Thursday night at The Roxy on Sunset and the dark, open room was throbbing with an electronic/funk&soul concoction mixed live by a bobbing silhouette dubbed Quikie Mart above in the isolated crow’s-nest DJ booth. Bodies were bumping on the floor and the bar was busy cranking ‘em out. A wide-ranging—though largely young and hip— capacity crowd was simply biding time before the warm-up and main events. Pretty typical, really.

The interesting bit about this particular Thursday night at one of Hollywood’s most storied rock clubs is that the main event was an instrumental soul-jazz organ trio whose name is decidedly more underground than household. Even a few of my musician friends struggled with it: “Isn’t that the…?” with varying accuracy. But Soulive have been simmering—burning, really—beneath pop terra firma since ‘99, and have attracted deserving attention among…well, as it turns out…a little bit of Everyone. A visual survey of the place revealed Hippies and Hip-Hoppers, music students (unmistakable) and pro players, Rockers and Jazzers, girls and boys alike.

Evans, Krasno & Evans

Three Course Feast
Opener, soul-singer and keyboardist Nigel Hall, took the stage with two-thirds of Soulive, brothers Neal (organ) and Alan (drums) Evans. This arrangement not only makes for more room on the bus, but a cohesive (if bordering on homogeneous) and seriously grooving night of music. Hall and Soulive share tastes for nostril-flaring funky soul music, and predictably, the same record label. It was interesting and simply good fun to see the band backing a singer, and the unusual three-piece orchestration of drums, organ, and singer/keys worked beautifully. On whole, the night followed a seamless and logical progression from the NOLA-inspired DJ set, to the R&B propelled songs of Hall, to the full-out funky instrumental explorations of Soulive.

Hittin’ hard behind Denson

Special Recipe
I’m a sucker for an organ trio. Smith, Burrell, and Bailey; Young, McLaughlin and Williams; Wall, Abercrombie and Nussbaum; and in the case of Soulive—Evans, Evans and Eric Krasno on guitar. The lush timbral and harmonic consonance of organ and guitar infuses warmth. The Hammond/Leslie combination, with a peculiar capacity to evoke the human voice (much like saxophone, only smoother tongued), personifies soul. Done right, the rhythmic chemistry of the organ and drums, with breathy and spacious pedalboard bass, react to yield uniquely bonding groove. Soulive hits on every level.

Still, to fill a rock club with bodies hippie-dancing, head banging, and ubiquitously moving takes more than configuration. It the case of Soulive, it takes infectious riffs, slamming groove, and urgent rock & roll energy. Across the spectrum, from high-swinging rocker to soulful ballad, the band remained committed and the crowd never wavered. It didn’t hurt that interspersed with original material spanning ten-plus records were a few well-conceived arrangements of Beatles songs off their latest, Rubber Soulive.

For Extra Measure
Toward the end of the night, Soulive became alternatley a quartet and a quintet with the addition of guests Karl Denson (Lenny Kravitz, Greyboy Allstars) and Hall. Denson’s unfailing sax and flute added gravity; and Hall lent himself to a theatrical highlight of the show, playing dual dueling-organ with Neal Evans.

Purple Pedal Eater

Quality Ingredient
Alan Evans is an informed, natural, and inspired player who is fully comfortable and confident in his role. He owns the throne in this band. He’s a guy who’s clearly studied and absorbed the great soul and R&B (when R&B was R&B) drummers before him, and understands the power of playing relaxed. Pocket. Funk. Intensity. The organ trio heritage and improvisational element of jazz are essential Soulive aesthetics, and Evans’ compositional, dynamic, and conceptual choices were right-on all night. He gets it alright, but as importantly, he also clearly enjoys it.

Damn!, That’s Good
A soul-jazz organ trio, truly a band in every sense; with rock attitude; able to fill a Sunset Strip rock mainstay with an ardent, rocking audience? Rock on, Soulive.

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Viva Carlos Vega
Carlos Vega’s drumming on the 1993 recording, James Taylor (LIVE), exemplifies startlingly his supportive, dynamic, and unfailing commitment to groove and song. With huge ears and deep pocket, his playing disappears into the musical whole and rises into focus at just the right moments; eliciting his taste and discipline as a first-call L.A. session master and his technical attributes as an original member of David Garfield’s fusion mainstay, Karizma. It is my favorite—of many—Carlos Vega recordings. He would commit suicide five years later at the age of 41.

Seaton rearstage for the 13th Annual Carlos Vega Memorial Concert, Sunday, December 5th

Garfield hosted the 13th Annual Carlos Vega Memorial Concert this past Sunday, December 5th, at Cafe Cordiale, where many of his friends and admirers gathered in remembrance and celebration of the man and his gifts—gone tragically too soon. Not surprisingly, some this town’s best musicians can be counted among them, and the overflowing, floor-level stage included Paul Jackson Jr., Jimmy Earl, Denny Dias, Lenny Castro, Jimmy Vivino, Alex Ligertwood, and, of course, Garfield. The drum throne was the natural focal point this evening and was graced by Oscar Seaton, Vinnie Colaiuta, and Walfredo Reyes Jr, in order.

Vinnie. Period.

Peaceful Succession
Seaton, a long-time Garfield cohort, hosted the throne—opening the set and proffering his instrument for the evening: a pop-y bass and snare, de-tuned floor tom, and angular cymbal array including auxiliary-hat positioned in lieu of a mounted tom. He delivered correspondingly bold and angular groove behind the inspired band, often to the delight of an otherwise intense Garfield.

Vinnie. He relieved Seaton, didn’t touch a wingnut, and proceeded to play in effortless tribute to his old friend. It was interesting watching him navigate the foreign set-up fluently as he adjusted his stick angle to accommodate the aft-tilted ride cymbal; mostly avoided the prominent x-hat; and generally adapted seamlessly to the voices, angles, and heights at hand—never compromising his Vinnie-ness. Notably, he even seemed to coax an extra inch or so out of Seaton’s cranked 5.5″ deep snare. Really, with the hall-of-fame body of work behind him, it would be exciting to watch the guy dial a phone.

Seaton and Colaiuta pretty evenly divvied up the bulk of the show, with Walfredo Reyes Jr. sitting-in for the final two or three tunes. His easy, soulful pocket and savvy musicality ensured a soft-landing for a high-flying night of music, and offered satisfying resolution to an evening dedicated to Carlos Vega.

Wally’s World

Cordially Yours
Cafe Cordiale is testament to the enduring power of good music and exceptional musicianship to attract a crowd in a scene as saturated and spread-out as Los Angeles’. A no-cover policy doesn’t hurt. The restaurant/bar has earned a reputation as a musician’s hangout through its commitment to music with a stage-centric room, consistently high-quality calendar, stellar jam nights, and open-door hospitality.

Of the many times I’ve been there, this was the first I’d actually reserved a table for dinner and sat proper-like in the dining room. We were seated practically in the horn section, front stage right, and half-expected to have to double on flute at some point. We relaxed, settled in, stretched out, and mocked the poor bastards crammed at the bar. It was packed.

Yuletide Treasure
There is something special about Cafe Cordiale at Christmas time. The white walls and white open-ceiling, tasteful glowing lights, white flowers, and splashes of greens and reds combine to turn the place into a striking and warming Holiday sanctuary. Add the chill and rain outside this night, and it made for an especially cozy communion and tribute. If you missed it, and even if you didn’t, you might consider dimming the lights, fixing a glass, and sitting down with James Taylor (LIVE) for a cozy communion and tribute of your own.

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Photo © Lissa Wales