DOWNTOWN BROWN
ANDY FRASCO AND THE U.N.
LIVE AT HIGH NOON SALOON
MADISON, WI
MAY 29, 2016
I don't care what the place actually looked like after we all happily staggered out of the High Noon Saloon after the incendiary performance by the legendary Fishbone, supported by both Downtown Brown and Andy Frasco and the U.N. To the untrained eye, everything seemed to be in order. But in truth, on this night, the music reduced the establishment to ashes!!!
To me, there is simply not even one solitary reason as to why the band Fishbone should not be on top of the world. Yes, there are reasons, from record label industry woes to internal band tensions and personnel changes plus a host of other turbulent issues as detailed in the excellent documentary film from 2011 entitled "Everyday Sunshine: The Story Of Fishbone" (and reviewed upon my Savage Cinema blogsite in the April 2012 section).
But even so, other long established and iconic bands have weathered even worse storms and have either maintained or emerged in even more powerful positions--whether deserved or not. It is my vehement opinion that Fishbone is not only of the GREAT bands but one that honestly deserves any and every accolade they have ever received as their idiosyncratic and innovative amalgamation of punk rock, soul, funk, jazz. R&B, hip-hop, reggae, ska and gospel remains second to none. And on a more personal note, and despite how many words I write, there will never be enough words to fully express how powerful it is to me that this band who creates this music so unorthodox and uncompromising is made up of a collective of brilliant, boldly brazen and Black men whose socio/political outlook ran in tandem with my own worldview, this giving me a sense of courage and community.
My relationship with Fishbone has been so paramount to my life ever since I first heard the band at the age of 16 in 1985 very late at night on Chicago's Finest Rock station WXRT-FM. with their inaugural, mushroom cloud augmented rallying cry, "Party At Ground Zero." The band was with me throughout high school, my college years and long beyond. I lost track of them and reunited with them and to this day, my allegiance remains profoundly steadfast. So, when the news arrived that Fishbone would arrive in my fair city in a practically tiny venue for a price so low that it would almost be offensive to a band of this legend in my mind, it was not simply a no-brainer that I had to see them for the very first time in my life. It was an imperative duty.
PART ONE: PRE-SHOW
It felt to be more than fitting to arrive at the High Noon Saloon on this early Sunday evening with the sunshine beaming downwards through the slowly travelling clouds that were depositing a light stream of raindrops as I walked through the parking lot. Immediately upon my arrival, and seeing that I was unable to enter the establishment due to a message upon the door stating that the soundcheck was still occurring, I met up with a High Noon "Will Call" staffer who checked my name off of the ticket list and gave me my wristband for the night. Mere moments afterwards, as my eyes drifted towards the indoor bar, the doors opened and the very first of three amazing pre-concert moments occurred. Holding the door for a few exiting bar patrons and then walking outdoors himself was none other than the figure of Fishbone bassist/co-founder John Norwood Fisher!
Typically, when I have ever happened to see some individual of a certain notoriety in public, I perform mental double and triple takes before convincing myself that I am indeed seeing who I think that I am seeing. In this case, there was no question, The lopsided baseball cap. The long, graying braided beard. The dark glasses. It was Norwood without question and there he was, causally sitting at an outdoor table with no one around him. No, I did not take a photo as that would have been painfully obvious. And also no, I did not approach him regardless of how much I wanted to just have a quick moment to thank him for alll that he has given musically. But, truth be told...I was scared. I didn't wish to bother him or disturb whatever pre-show headspace he happened to be existing in. And as I moseyed around, I watched Norwood rise from his table wit earbuds firmly in place and he walked right past me towards the parking lot, never to be seen again by my eyes until hours later at showtime.
The second amazing event before entering is more of a humorous one, something that fully is indicative of living life in Madison, WI as a Black man attending a concert with a predominantly White audience. As I stood outside and causally paced around, finally perching myself near the doors as I leaned against a wall and window ledge, I had the feeling that I was being watched. I soon realized that some patrons were looking at me in the same way that I was looking at Norwood: these people thought that I was a member of Fishbone!! I only know this for certain as I was asked on three different occasions (twice more indoors) and I also overheard a conversation by a couple standing next to me, to which I politely informed them, "No, I'm not with the band."
To me, it was more than hilarious because when you consider the completely unorthodox nature of the band's appearance, I, by comparison, was much more conservatively dressed. Long black button down shirt with t-shirt underneath, blue jeans and my ever present baseball cap. That's it. Not one thing about me that screams "ROCK STAR!" and most definitely nothing that suggests that I could be a member of Fishbone, aside from my race and even my age as I am of the approximate same age as the band members. So, word to the wise, if you happen to see me at a concert starring Black musicians...I'm here to see the show, not be in the show.
The third, and best, pre-concert moment arrived the moment I set foot inside the club once the doors opened. Standing right at the merchandise table next to the front doors and even arranging the T-shirts, DVDs and CDs was none other than Fishbone lead singer/saxophonist, one of the most dynamic frontmen to grace the stage, Angelo Moore!!!!
Dear readers, the man was so close I nearly bumped into him as he checked prices and set items in place. Learning my lesson from just minutes ago with Norwood outdoors, this time, I just simply said, "Angelo?" He looked at me to which I just kept going. "This is truly an honor! I have been with you since that very first EP."
"The first EP?" he questioned, to which I replied in the affirmative. "Man...that was...'84, '85?"
"I was 16," I said. "I've been a fan since that very first time I ever heard you. And I've followed you ever since. I've never seen you live yet. This is my first time. But, I've been there from the beginning."
And then, he flashed me his trademark Cheshire Cat smile and asked my name. I told him and we shook hands firmly. Figuring that I had taken up enough of his time, I wished him a good show and he shook my hand again. I stood back, completely amazed as I watched him take a couple of brief photos with more fans and off he went backstage. No, I do not have a photo with him and I guess I have very minor regrets about that. But, having had that moment was more than I could have asked for and I did not wish to over-indulge.
Before showtime and after the first opening band Downtown Brown had finished their soundcheck, I spent my time just wandering the place, having a quick drink and staking out my preferred place for the night--the lip of the front of the stage's left side--and having a nice conversation with Randy Ballwahn, my friend, drummer of Madison's The German Art Students and the host/DJ of WSUM FM's weekly Friday morning broadcast "Freak Scene Radio."
By 8:30 p.m. as the show was clearly beginning to get itself started, I stood near the stage right next to what I assumed were Angelo Moore's arsenal of saxophones (later to be fully confirmed to be correct), anxious for what the night would bring. What I received was nearly four hours worth of molten lava funk, rock and soul filled with the glorious, fun and freak filled fury and sweat on stage and in the audience.
PART TWO: PARTY AT GROUND ZERO
photo courtesy of THIS MEANS WAR
DOWNTOWN BROWN:
Donic Chronic: Drums, Backing Vocals
Neebo: Lead Vocals, Guitars
Ronstown: Bass Guitar
The first accolade that I must bestow upon Fishbone is the fact that they undeniably know how to pick their opening acts as both bands served to represent the certain musical stew and allegiance to the punk, the funk and unapologetic glee with which they all raised and waved their respective freak flags.
Downtown Brown perfectly set the stage with 30 wild minutes of controlled chaos and superior musicianship and it made perfect sense that Norwood Fisher has taken the 15 year veteran Detroit, MI act under his wing in the studio as Producer. The band's aesthetic, as riotously fronted by the exuberantly energetic Neebo on athletically blistering lead guitar, contains snatches of Frank Zappa, Primus and Funkadelic with the agile rhythm section of liquid bassist Ronstown and drummer Donic Chronic in perfect lockstep, even though all three members were whirling dervishes of relentless motion and musical flexibility.
As I previously stated, this was an act of controlled chaos, as their showmanship never upstaged their musicianship, as evidenced by their stupendous tribute to Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson with their reverential cover of the iconic "Purple Rain" featuring a surprise guest appearance from Angelo Moore assisting greatly in full gospel flourish on lead vocals. (And I must add that after Angelo left the stage and zipped through the audience to other regions of the Saloon, he gave me a solid pat on the shoulder as he passed by!!)
photo courtesy of THIS MEANS WAR
ANDY FRASCO AND THE U.N.
Andy Frasco: Lead Vocals, Piano, Organ, Keyboards
Andy Frasco: Lead Vocals, Piano, Organ, Keyboards
Andee Avila: Drums, Percuission, Vocals
Ernie Chang: Saxophone
Shawn Eckles: Guitar, Vocals
Matt Owen: Tuba
Supa Man: Bass Guitar
Continuing with the Prince analogies, the night's second act was so spectacular, they nearly threatened to upstage the main act, just as The Time often did during classic early 1980's opening act tours with Prince and the Revolution.
Andy Frasco and the U.N. provided a dynamic set that also fully served the night's musical agenda of raucous celebration with a gumbo of musical influences and genres, stunning musical chops from the entire band and a propulsive energy that never let up for a second. As evidenced by the band's name, this was a multi-ethnic sextet whose collective of racial heritages informed the music they valiantly performed.
With the boisterous and barefoot Frasco as the vibrant center of the virtuoso musical cyclone the band created, we were all treated to extended, downright relentless, Zappa-esque jams that spun from New Orleans styled dixieland jazz, traditional Jewish music, punk rock, hip-hop, funk, soul and rock and roll and great sing-a-longs like the exuberantly bluesy "Stop Fuckin' Around," the boogie woogie of "Smokin' Dope 'N Rock 'N Roll" which featured band vocals as crisp and clear as the Eagles and the volcanic "Struggle," during which band members propelled themselves from the stage to perform musical duels within the audience, which was left brilliantly dazzled and enraptured, blazed and amazed.
And truthfully, by the time the band launched into their rampaging cover of Rage Against The Machine's "Killing In The Name," Andy Frasco and the U.N. had the entirety of the High Noon Saloon completely in the collective palms of their hands.
FISHBONE:
John Norwood Fisher: Bass Guitar, Vocals
"Dirty" Walter A. Kibby II: Trumpet, Vocals
Angelo Moore: Lead Vocals, Saxophones, Theremin
Jay Armant: Trombone, Vocals
Rocky George: Guitar
Paul Hampton: Keyboards
John Steward: Drums
It was sometime after 10:30 p.m. when the evening's main act took to the stage and we could not have been any more ready!
Adorned in boiler suits complete with the band's trademark logo and member names (Yes, I want one!), and the arrival of Angelo Moore fully decorated in an outfit that suggested equal parts Dead End Kids/Zoot Suit/Blaxploitation pimp strut, Fishbone began the main event with a series of their mroe recent selections including "Forever Moore," "Shank N' Go Nuttz," and "Behind Closed Doors" from the album "Still Stuck In Your Throat" (released April 24, 2007) and the title track from the "Crazy Glue" EP (released October 11, 2011).
While all of the selections were enthusiastically performed, it felt as if the band may have been holding back just a taste. But, remember, Fishbone is a band of seasoned musicians, a group with a 30 yea legacy. These figures are masters at the game and very soon, we all realized that the band had played us right into their collective hands like the greatest of prize fighters drawing in their opponents, ready to slam 'em for the knock out that would inevitably arrive.
For us, that knock out punch arrived powerfully with the classic "Ma And Pa" from the band's eternal "Truth And Soul" (released September 13, 1988). Beginning with trombonist Jay Armant's flying stage dive into the audience, Fishbone fully exploded to life and never let up for the remainder of their nearly two hour performance, as Moore's increasingly sweat drenched body movements and exemplary stage presence fully matched and served the rapid acceleration of the music itself.
While the gruffly imposing "Dirty" Walter A. Kibby II prowled the stage and Norwood Fisher remain focused and stoic, Angelo Moore danced, jerked, glided, stood on the lip of the stage, interacted with the audience and also stage dived into the hands and arms of the night's sold out crowd.
He additionally and repeatedly raced on and off stage to grab the proper saxophone for the correct song and seemingly, each moment, as Fishbone roared through newer material like "Let Dem Ho's Fight," "Whipper Snapper" and a ferocious cover of Sublime's "Date Rape" as well as classic material like the mountainous bass driven showcase "Bonin' In The Boneyard," the warp speed ska of "Skankin' To The Beat," the splendid ode to the voluptuous females "Cholly," the ferocious "Alcoholic" and its inebriated twin "Beer Gut" and the incendiary political outbursts of "Pray To The Junkiemaker," "Freddie's Dead" and "Sunless Saturday" plus even more that demanded that we keep ourselves moving, jumping, dancing and sweating!!!
Now, as for me, I am typically of the sort to just stand by the stage and remain the entranced observer but even so, the rhythms and excitement made that impossible as I was unable to be that passive. Fishbone vigorously grabbed me by my collars and made me jump into the increased melee that seemed to make the High Noon Salon transform itself into a massive bouncy house! Everywhere I looked, bodies were in motion--jumping up and falling down over and over again with a gleefulness that sprinted to the edge of music driven madness.
What this night delivered to me was yet another opportunity to see musical heroes in action. To witness Fishbone at this stage in their existence. For a band who has already given us one of the best calling card debut releases I have heard to also delivering one of the best albums of the 1980's and even three of the finest of the 1990's, I was indeed lost in the glory of seeing HEROES up close and personal. To that end, Fishbone proved themselves to be a band of 2016 and not exist solely as a nostalgia act. While the set list was evenly split between newer and classic material, the show truly brought the newer material up front, definitely and defiantly illustrating how Fishbone has remained current and passionately relevant, despite their diminished presence in the pop culture lexicon.
It should be noted that Fishbone has endured many personnel changes over the years as only three of the original band members remain. But this night also presented to me the newer members of the band as full inheritors of the legacy as well as being the soldiers to keep the flame burning brightly. I stood almost under the towering guitarist Rocky George whose impressive Afro surrounded his cranium like the perfect funk halo. The sheer dexterity of the material certainly displayed the malleability of his spine-tinging six string fireworks. Drummer John Steward powerfully and superbly claimed the throne behind the kits, no small feat considering the massive shoes the formidable original and departed drummer/co-founder Fish left behind.
Yes, there were technical glitches throughout the band's performance this night, from Moore's microphone issues, to a sound mix that was not as clear as the opening act's (despite standing at the front of the stage, I could not hear Paul Hampton's keyboards whatsoever). Even so, Fishbone was unstoppable, still fighting the powers that be and pushing against the grain as they continue charting their own unrepentant path. These are the true sons of Funkadelic and the godfathers of The Roots, a band whose legacy and longevity should not only be embraced but profoundly revered as Fishbone redefined what it means to be "original" and "one of a kind" repeatedly.
And trust me, if there were people in attendance that night who didn't previously know the truth and soul of Fishbone, EVERYBODY knew it by night's end
After the final encore of "Everyday Sunshine" and "Party At Ground Zero" left us all in exhausted puddles, I found myself willed to the opposite side of the stage were "Dirty" Walter A Kibby II still stood. I reached out and he grabbed my hand, offering me a warm smile in return. "30 years!!!" I shouted. "30 years!!! I have been with you 30 years!!! Keep going!!"
Walter then clasped both of his hands around mine, shook strongly and offered a deeply intoned "My brother!"
That was all that needed to be said!
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