Snarky Puppy have garnered a cult following in Melbourne. Perhaps it’s due to their Grammy-winning credibility; perhaps it’s due to each member’s talent as a soloist; or perhaps it’s the fact that no other group on the planet is doing what they do, with the degree of excellence and precision that they do it.
Snarky Puppy don’t play the type of lofty jazz that beckons appreciation on a purely cerebral level. Their music’s designed to make a crowd dance, jump, and in some instances even mosh. The multi-member behemoth pulled from a broad selection of influences, merging fusion with world music, neo-soul with classic metal. On paper, they sound like an art school basket case. Witnessed in person, however, they defied the odds and somehow made perfect sense.
The show opened with a string of tunes from their latest album, Culcha Vulcha. Having already performed an earlier set, the nine-piece crew were either going to be extremely worn out or seriously warmed up. Thankfully, it was the latter, and by the time they got to the Brazilian-inspired Semente, things had really kicked into gear.
Obviously, with 11 albums under their belt a Snarky Puppy show can’t contain all of the deeper cuts and fan-favourites that will please everyone in attendance. However, the sheer amount of material in their arsenal makes every show unique. Only a few tunes were repeated from their previous set, which made it feel like self-contained and special experience.
What so many people were here for tonight though, was to be enraptured by spontaneous improvisation. While all players delivered this in spades, the absolute standout was guitarist Mark Lettieri. Backed only by the pounding drums of Robert Searight, he moved between complex fusion comping and Stevie Ray Vaughn-like blues licks, offering a sly nod to his Texan heritage. It was an effortless distillation of the Snarky Puppy ethos – severe talent showcased in an accessible way.
On Snarky Puppy’s first tour to Australia, they tried to teach an ambivalent crowd the melody to their proxy theme song Shofukan in the hope of initiating a group sing-along. The results were lacklustre, but as they returned to the same venue in 2016 to a sold out crowd, there was no need to try the same shtick. The crowd began chanting the anthemic horn line right from the song’s commencement. Well after the show finished, roughly 1400 exhilarated punters filtered onto the street, with the refrain still being sung out as the crowd moved onto Flinders Street.
A lot can be said about this jazz collective, but ultimately, it all comes down to one fact – this is a pure, unique vision of what jazz can sound like in 2016, and damnit feels good.
BY JAMES DI FABRIZIO
LOVED: The polyrhythmic excess of What About Me?
HATED: The jabroni who decided to stand directly in front of me mid-set.
DRANK: Tinnies.
