Opening act, Matt Mahar and his band arrived a few minutes late, blaming it on the fact that it "took them forever" to get to the club. I believe Mr. Mahar said that they're from Conway, Arkansas, but I might have made that up -- I'm going on memory here since the elusive Mr. Mahar has no detectable website. (At least none that a Google, UBL or MP3.com search would turn up. And that’s the most energy I permit myself to expend on probing for information. Hey I'm sorry, I'm a busy woman!) This three-piece, and I mean the band not the chocolate brown suit that Matt was wearing, is comprised of Matt, a drummer (we'll call him "Drummer" – really need to get that website up and running guys) and a bassist (we'll call him "Bassist" – I'll stop raggin' on the lack of website now), were both unassuming and confident. Bassist, clad in glasses, a T-shirt and jeans, found himself sitting on the stage watching Matt and Drummer perform the first song, due to technical difficulties. Once this apparently minor problem was ironed out, these guys proved to be tight, yet comfortable. Their music was somewhat reminiscent of the 60s vibe – on steroids. Not like The Strokes. No, nothing like that – more along the lines of the Jellyfish with a more acoustic sense. Matt's vocals were a bit Buddy Holly-ian with a slight twang, though more modern than such a comparison permits. The tempo was well-kept through the skills of Drummer, who was draped in long baggy shorts, adorned with a wallet chain that threatened to pull the garment down around his ankles while showing an expanse of his boxer-covered behind. The small crowed definitely warmed to their sound, with a few of them compelled to purchase a CD. I put on my business hat and introduced myself to Matt, as I explained that I would be doing a review of the show. He looked at me in a somewhat serious fashion and stated, "I hope it's good!" I handed him my card with a smile, and hinted that it would be, then made my way back to my perch as Concrete Blonde prepared to take the stage.

Vocalist/bassist Johnette Napolitano, guitartist Jim Mankey and drummer Gabriel Ramirez-Quezada arrived promptly on set, matched in Chinese silk attire with Johnette wearing stacked, fringy thongs -- which more often than not, found her walking around in one shoe, or completely barefoot during those times she really wanted to jump around -- her features generally hidden behind a mane of wild, shoulder-length hair.

The band is on tour in support of their latest effort Concrete Blonde Live in Brazil, recorded in Sao Paulo, Porte Allegro, and Rio De Janeiro during the band's 2002 tour, which I must admit does not do the band's live show the justice it deserves – but still a good listen. While the CD finds Johnette's voice fading in and out somewhat, reminiscent of – to mention another “blonde” – 4 Non Blondes, the performance I encountered had her on key and showing amazing vocal techniques. I observed from the edge of the stage, being equally entertained by a gal who appeared to be the band's number one fan. She was in absolute awe, and looked to be fighting back tears, while Johnette crooned in the spotlight. I found myself longing for the days that I held anyone in such idol worship. (Rock journalism smacks that out of you pretty quick). On occasion this enthusiastic fan could be heard shouting up praise to the band … "We'll listen to whatever you have to say Johnette." "You could sing Jimmy Crack Corn for all we care, we'll listen". My mouth was moving faster than my brain as I responded with a resounding "Please don't." which produced a few snickers and guffaws from other audience members.

The club was certainly less full then I expected. About 60-70 fans came out to see the band known mostly for their 90s hit "Joey" – a song which Johnette dedicated to a deceased friend stating "Ha ha, you're dead!" followed by an explanation that she "[doesn’t] believe in death". As one might predict, the tune produced a flurry through the crowd, especially with the last verse sped up to a very punk-like five-seconds. After flawless performances of "Days and Days" and "Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)", I was left wondering why these harder-edged tunes never became huge hits. Meanwhile their soft ballad-like pieces produced a gentle sway throughout the intimate-sized crowd. In addition to their better-known tunes, other highlights included "Roxy" (the bands homage to Roxy Music), and a few covers, such as The Rolling Stones' "As Tears Go By" and The Kinks' "Hollywood Boulevard".

The only complaint I have is Johnette's penchant for discussing politics and personal beliefs, which encompassed over half of her banter (a small sampling of which can be found on the new live CD). While I can appreciate the embracing of your punk side, spanking your inner moppet and preaching to your audience throughout half of your concert leaves a bad aftertaste. I found it both distracting and just irritating enough to affect my overall enjoyment of the show. However, if you feel you’re up to some commentary with your concerts, you'll find that Concrete Blonde puts their hearts and souls into the music, Johnette's vocals are sensuous and evocative, and the band definitely has a knack for showcasing their talents in a live forum.

Photos by Jordan