It’s true, 2016 had a surplus of sadness, but rather than dwell on the dark stuff, here’s a quick look back at some of the good musical memories of the past year.
During the early hours of First Night, I gladly stood with numb cheeks and chapped lips, part of a cheery group gathered outside the Academy of Music in Northampton, watching the fantastical Expandable Brass Band as they turned the chilly sidewalk into a party zone. Whenever the boisterous and empowering ensemble is around, everyone becomes a kid again.
The leaderless collective wears homemade color-coordinated outfits (yellow and black, like funky bumblebees), a beacon of bright sight and sound no matter what the weather. Their groovy marching band versions of songs like “Land of a Thousand Dances” and “I Want Candy” had a magnetic spirit, making passersby stop and grin. As local poet and fellow gatherer Connolly Ryan said to me, leaning over in the cold, “They’re like ‘The Muppets’ meets ‘Treme.’ ”
One of my favorite records of the year was Esperanza Spalding’s adventurous “Emily’s D+Evolution,” and she brought a like-minded show to the Calvin Theatre in Northampton in April, less a concert than a performance-art piece with a live soundtrack. She might be the closest thing to a musical superhero I’ve ever seen in person: costumed and commanding, she sang her album’s complex, fierce, open-hearted songs with the freedom of prime Joni Mitchell, while playing bass with the soul and skill of Jaco Pastorius, while acting with a stage full of musicians and communicating with the audience through an expressive performance.
Not everyone was onboard — a friend and his son really disliked the show and told me later they saw a large group of people walk out after 20 minutes — but I was standing down front among a diverse crowd of fans (moms dancing with kids, a ponytailed older dude, a couple on a date, friends out on the town) and dug Spalding’s be-yourself, seize-the-day message, which she was putting into practice right before our very eyes.
Vermont-based pianist/composer Chris Bakriges released a new jazz album back in June, “Clear and Present” (backed by vibraphonist Jay Hoggard, bassist Avery Sharpe and drummer Billy Arnold) and it stayed in my car all summer long, thanks to memorable and highly melodic themes like the enigmatic “Gnosis” and the breezy “Blue Book.” Months later, it still holds up. A strong, tuneful and accessible local jazz disc. Recommended! (Available on iTunes, Amazon, CD Baby and bakriges.com.)
Ever since I was a kid infatuated with the Beatles (and then a teen smitten by XTC), I’ve had a soft spot for catchy and smart guitar-pop, and vocalist/guitarist Chris Collingwood has been a master of that for a long time with his band Fountains of Wayne. These days, he has a new and equally excellent solo project: Look Park. The live lineup of the band (which includes Philip Price from Winterpills on lead guitar and vocal harmonies) made its public debut at The Parlor Room in July, the first-ever summer show at the Signature Sounds venue.
The punchy parade of one hooky song after another was honestly exhilarating. The group played with a palpable focus and energy, and no wonder — it was a warm-up of sorts for its second show, to happen four days later in Japan at an outdoor festival in front of 100,000 people. But lucky Valley folks got to hear Collingwood and company’s big pop sound in a cozy friendly (sold-out) place.
And speaking of friendly places, the Luthiers Co-Op in Easthampton is one of my favorite spots to see a show, especially when it’s packed, as it was when the twang-rocking Lonesome Brothers played just days before Christmas. The scene reminded me of the heyday of the Bay State Cabaret, with lots of high spirits and little room to move. I wedged behind the drinkers on the bar stools, getting loopy on locally brewed ginger beer, standing sideways so as not to block the view of the early-bird fans seated at tables and eating hot pizzas brought in from down the street.
On the other side of the room, what was either an extended family or an all-ages fan club (or both!) seemed to know every word of every Lonesome Brothers song, and they danced wildly while singing along, totally caught up in the music. Sometimes a couple broke out of the crowd to shimmy right in front of the band, which was about the only open space in sight. At the end of an increasingly dismal year, the co-op’s friendly community and positivity was exactly what I needed.
Ken Maiuri can be reached at clublandcolumn@gmail.com.