Tribal, Funked-out Nuclear Jazz
I heard his voice before I laid eyes on him, the smoke billowing up from the stage doesn't slow down a voice like that.
With a devil like swagger stepping out on the town, the lead singer for The Toledo Show, Toledo, saunters in front of the stage, weaving between the three girls who lean on their canes on opposite corners of the floor.
...and don't worry, the torn holes in their fish-net stockings won't slow them down a bit.
Try to imagine walking into a late night basement Tom Waits show, but instead of a solo piano he has the P-Funk All Stars playing back-up, and George Clinton singing by his side. Tonight, accompanying the usual drunken piano is a stoned microphone, a long neck base guitar, drum set, turn table, trumpet and a wailing sax.
I sat there, thinking of the best way to describe the music and the show and after a two sets, a few bottles of bud, and some unexpected Sunday night dancing the best I could come up with was "Tribal, Funked-out Nuclear Jazz." You shouldn't need me to explain Tribal Funked-out Jazz, but if you wonder why it's nuclear it's because the energy literally radiates through the crowd. What starts off as a docile Sunday night crowd slowly get their atoms excited from the energetic sound blasting at them from the stage. The lead singer, the music and band all drip so much cool onto the floor, that eventually it runs up to your shoes feeding the illusion that you're cool as well. Between the growling vocals, the funking music, the burlesque show that travels through the bar and the cloud of smoke that envelops it all: to simply call it sexual would be an understatement.
This is a Sunday night show reserved for people who go out on weekday nights and drink before Noon on the weekends. It happens every Sunday in Santa Monica after 9pm at Harvelle's. Grab a drink, find a spot near the stage and don't be surprised if you see me there.
"pop goes the weasel, i'm pure evil"
With a devil like swagger stepping out on the town, the lead singer for The Toledo Show, Toledo, saunters in front of the stage, weaving between the three girls who lean on their canes on opposite corners of the floor.
...and don't worry, the torn holes in their fish-net stockings won't slow them down a bit.
Try to imagine walking into a late night basement Tom Waits show, but instead of a solo piano he has the P-Funk All Stars playing back-up, and George Clinton singing by his side. Tonight, accompanying the usual drunken piano is a stoned microphone, a long neck base guitar, drum set, turn table, trumpet and a wailing sax.
I sat there, thinking of the best way to describe the music and the show and after a two sets, a few bottles of bud, and some unexpected Sunday night dancing the best I could come up with was "Tribal, Funked-out Nuclear Jazz." You shouldn't need me to explain Tribal Funked-out Jazz, but if you wonder why it's nuclear it's because the energy literally radiates through the crowd. What starts off as a docile Sunday night crowd slowly get their atoms excited from the energetic sound blasting at them from the stage. The lead singer, the music and band all drip so much cool onto the floor, that eventually it runs up to your shoes feeding the illusion that you're cool as well. Between the growling vocals, the funking music, the burlesque show that travels through the bar and the cloud of smoke that envelops it all: to simply call it sexual would be an understatement.
This is a Sunday night show reserved for people who go out on weekday nights and drink before Noon on the weekends. It happens every Sunday in Santa Monica after 9pm at Harvelle's. Grab a drink, find a spot near the stage and don't be surprised if you see me there.
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