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Whether your stereo is pumping Jay-Z, Metallica, Fela Kuti or Madonna, you’re sure to find a show on B.B. King’s schedule that you won’t want to miss. B.B. King’s also happens to be one of the nicest venues I’ve ever seen. The room’s stylistic flourishes recall the posh swing palaces of the 30’s and 40’s, making you feel swanky even if you haven’t shaved in days and are sporting the same dirty, smelly old Chuck Taylors you wore to the Warped Tour. The sound system is good, the sight lines are fantastic and the room is small enough that you never feel too far away from the band. And with such a huge bar, you won’t have to elbow your way through a herd of people to order a drink.
Their music is often described as “New Age”, a label some musicians may bristle at, though Ottmar doesn’t fret: "It's actually a great category to be in," he said in a 1999 interview for the Tribune-Review "It's not very defined, and you can do what you want. It's almost fun to be in it." Drawing on the rhythms of India, Africa, the Caribbean, and traditional flamenco, virtuoso percussionists Ron Wagner and Robbie Rothschild traded stories with Ottmar’s finger picking, and bassist Jon Gagan’s narcotic groove was the needle to drive it all mainline. Their exotic sound is hard to describe; the music was something you felt, a secret whispered in your bone marrow and echoed in your blood, a fever dream that we all shared. Like a drug, it held the audience enthralled, unable to do anything except applaud orgasmically at the end of each piece. The sensuous atmosphere was enhanced by the intimate, cabaret-style setting, almost as though Luna Negra had invited you to their bedroom for some conversation and maybe a glass of wine. Ottmar played in his bare feet, a trademark of his, projecting serenity with his effortless style and fluid melodies. More than once he sat back and allowed the other members to play alone, a big goofy grin adorning his face like a proud father. The stage was bare except for whatever instruments were needed, and there were no fancy slideshows or graphics. All that mattered was the music and the moment.
At intermission, a fan had confided to me that he was waiting specifically for “Barcelona Nights”, and he howled with joy when Ottmar coaxed the first notes from his guitar. Besides his nylon string, Ottmar also picked up an electric guitar, creating Pink Floyd-esque solos over the rolling, throbbing beats, at times alternating between the two in one piece. The bassist took the lead in some parts, bathing his tone in either gritty, Hendrix-inspired fuzz or psychedelic space-echo effects like he was trying to call down P-Funk’s mothership. He also manned the synth, providing the requisite ambient touches when needed. The percussionists kept the beats intricate yet soothing, drawing you into their softly spoken dialogue of intrigue, often employing two or more different kinds instruments in the same piece (and just so you get the idea cajon, tabla drums, congas, berimbau, bodhran, djembe, chimes, kora- the list goes on). At times they injected some whimsy by using birdcalls and other realistic sound effects, and before the intermission Wagner and Rothschild performed an incredible solo drum piece, trading off in a call and response section that had the audience pleading for more. If you’re a fan of jazz, funk, trance, rock, hip hop, “ethnic”, or world music, or simply live for a good groove that grabs you up and won’t let go, then don’t fail to check out this extremely talented and experienced group of performers. After all, you know that three simple chords and a snarl can kick your ass. These guys don’t even need the snarl. |
