Or rather, you might have expected another group of similar status to give only 90% under such circumstances… but not Fishbone. Here is a band, now in their 32nd year of existence, whose idea of performance goes beyond merely entertaining an audience, and approaches something quasi-religious in its unconditional, uncompromising commitment to a spectacle.
Fittingly, when frontman and founding member Angelo Moore once again opened proceedings by taking the stage in a bowler hat – the one-piece costume of his alter ego Dr. Madd Vibe – it was to recite a beat poetry diatribe about attempting to contact god (or ‘Jah Jah’) on the phone… I swear, that man’s manic, wide-eyed vaudevillian facial expressions are worth the price of admission alone.
Although Fishbone’s reputation as one of the world’s best party bands doesn’t mean they are a group without moods, the truncated set time they got as the second-billed act (I can barely believe it) meant that ‘party band’ was pretty much the theme du jour. Through I Wish I Had A Date, Skankin’ To The Beat and Ma And Pa – and even some bit-wrong selections like Let Dem Ho’s Fight and Date Rape – the momentum was relentless and the energy almost excessive. While keyboardist Dre Gipson got almost as physical as Moore in the crowd-working department, it was enough for the magnificently afreaux-ed guitarist Rocky George (ex-Suicidal Tendencies) to simply peek over his shades with justified smugness as he wowed with lick after lick. Moore’s fellow original member, bassist Norwood Fisher, was a bit more subdued in his stage presence, but proved he still had the chops for the job when the cry was made for ‘Funky Bass!’ in Bonin’ In The Boneyard.
But ultimately, the stage belonged to Moore, whose showmanship sometimes verged on the masochistic: during the compulsory crowd-participation piece Everyday Sunshine, even having his tattooed skull bear the brunt of a failed crowd-surfing attempt couldn’t dissuade him from taking another leap into the fray.
This Trombone Shorty fellow had a lot to live up to – more, it seemed, than some in the crowd ever thought he could, with many deserting the venue after Fishbone finished. These people, though, missed one of the freshest, most versatile and engaging performers I have come across in some time.
Removing his shirt early in proceedings to reveal a cut, wiry physique, one of the first impressions to be made of ‘Shorty’ (real name Troy Andrews) was as a young, hungry up-and-comer. But as the set went on, he revealed an intuition for how to stagger a show that was worthy of a true veteran of the stage.
In his backing band Orleans Avenue – a classic rock trio plus a saxophonist – he certainly had the musicians needed to keep the audience in that sweet spot of energy. Drawing on the chill factor of reggae when it was time to wind back, or the improvisational agility of jazz to shake things up, what the band really specialised in was a brand of funk-tinged rock that attracted both dancing feet and the occasional horned salute.
Making a strong argument for the versatility of his instrumental namesake, it said a lot that Andrews could play his horns (trombone and trumpet) in a way that made them seem not the least bit incongruous in even the punk-inspired segments. It said even more, particularly about his breath control, that he could match solos with his guitarist – 16th notes and all – on a freaking trombone! When he wasn’t playing a horn, ‘Shorty’ was either singing (covering plenty of styles in his vocals, too) or conducting the band into a frenzy.
The intriguing intersection of genres and generations that ‘Shorty’ represents was best demonstrated by his covers medley, in which Green Day’s Brain Stew was followed by Satchmo’s Sunny Side Of The Street. The latter saw Andrews show off his circular breathing skills by sustaining a note for two minutes straight, looking uncannily like a puffer fish as he reached the final seconds.
By the end of the show, with all hands in the air, it was clear this brass-slinging kid had earned our respect. Still wasn’t worthy of out-billing Fishbone, but came about as close as you can get.
