reCAP :: Galactic w/ Sister Sparrow & The Dirty Birds :: 2015.02.13
It's been more than a decade since Theryl "The Houseman" deClouet left Galactic's full-time employ, which is to say, it's been more than a decade since Galactic has had a true vocalist and frontperson. The great New Orleans funk brigade was always cagey about committing to a replacement following the end of the Houseman's tenure, and every semi-regular singer -- from the heavy-rocking Corey Glover to the luxuriantly soulful Maggie Koerner -- has been an extended guest, some more impactful than others, though each with something different to add.
But all the while -- even with the band members themselves throwing the term “reinvention” around in cycles of interviews with press -- Galactic never seemed to lose site of its fundamentals. Underneath the hip-hop, bounce and turntable theatrics, the fuller horn sections, the adventurous percussion, the all-instrumental shows, the studio-gloss albums celebrating Louisiana roots, and every other enhancement or experimental aside, this is still the band that captured attention more than 20 years ago by taking funk-informed, jazz-dusted jamming on a joyride. They still manage hungry improvisation with a preference for succinct statements instead of gooey, meandering solos. They still wallow in the voodoo when the time of night calls for just that. And when Stanton Moore stands up behind his kit as a particularly climatic moment and bashes away with that good ol’ Stanton Moore grin just because Galactic’s cooking and he’s so moved to do so, well...some things don’t, and shouldn’t, change.
Several Galactic performances with Macy Gray have now been announced, and it seems like that collaboration will define Galactic’s 2015. But on this bone-rattlingly cold Friday night, it was time to celebrate these Galactic fundamentals, along with a few extra ingredients: Corey Henry, the emphatic trombonist and frequent Galactic co-conspirator; Cyril Neville, bringing his rough-edged soul and percussion chops, as a featured guest for the evening, and Erica Falls, the latest power-piped vocalist to harness some of that sizzling Galactic energy and willfully try to bend it.
It was Falls who commanded center stage for much of the evening, blazing a trail through “Higher,” “Hard Times,” “Hey Na Na,” “What You Need” and host of others before ending with the rat-a-tat “Dolla Diva.” Behind those vocals the band painted every corner: Ben Ellman’s crisp sax, Rich Vogel’s keyboard filigree, Henry’s aggressive trombone, Jeff Raines’ sinewy guitar lines, all underpinned by Moore and bassist Robert Mercurio in an accommodating pocket.
As a group they used most every tool in the Galactic box in what for the band was a short, fast-resolving show. But it was an old-school, NoLA roots vibe that pronounced most, especially when Neville led the way through Meters chestnuts like “No More Okey Doke” and “The World Is A Little Bit Under the Weather.” When the group lit into “Big Chief” at the start of the encore, it could have been 2015, it could have been 1997, it could have been 1970, it could have been Port Chester, it could have been the dankest of dank New Orleans bars during Jazz Fest at 4:00 a.m. Galactic's changed a lot, but in many ways, not at all -- it always seems to find its way back to that centered state.
Sister Sparrow & the Dirty Birds opened and had the place nice and hot by the time their roadhouse-ready soul-blues revue waved goodbye. This band gets stronger and more interesting every year: a tighter blend of its various funk, rock and soul influences and a place where a burning harmonica solo, spicy horns and a psychedelic slide guitar adventure all get airings without making things sound like a patchwork. When they arrived at “Too Much,” all of those elements featured, and still none could compete with the twirling, belting Arleigh Kincheloe, singing the thing like it would never be enough.