Avenue was all but impossible, so I started down the side streets near TT's, looking for a space - up Sidney Street down Brookline Street up Pearl Street toward Green. So I drove straight to Central Square and began looking for parking near the club. I zipped my Porsche 928 the highway and got back into the Boston area in a hurry, but not quickly enough to be able to park my car at my temporary home and walk/run the several blocks to TT The Bear's in time for the start of the show. The dinner up in New Hampshire took a little longer that I anticipated, and I left the function at just about the time I figured I would need to get back to see the show. I was really looking forward to finally seeing this band. I had a dinner engagement that same evening up in Manchester, NH, but I knew that I could easily attend that and still have ample time to get back to Cambridge to see the show. A couple of days before I had to leave for Virginia, at the end of that summer, the Muses were scheduled to play at TT The Bear's Place in Central Square, mere walking distance from where I was living (they were touring on Limbo, their latest album). Nonetheless, it is nice to have you back, ladies.When I was up in Cambridge, MA in 1996, for my grad school summer internship, it appeared that I would finally get my chance to see a Throwing Muses show. Still, at this point, it isn’t likely they’ll rewrite their chapter in rock history. Proving they weren’t favoring one sex, late in the set they invited a couple dozen of mostly female fans and friends to the stage to shake their groove things as the blasted out “City Song,” a minor hit from a decade ago.ĭuring the encore Cunniff sang her ballad “Why Do I Lie,” a should-have-been-hit that sounded so good it could have easily been mistaken for a classic ’70s soul side, reminding the crowd Luscious Jackson were more than a one-trick pony. To emphasize the point, they invited five guys from the crowd on stage to shake their moneymakers as they played the song.
“#1 Bum,” a track from Magic Hour, also recalled the Boys’ early efforts dabbling in reggae, but here Luscious Jackson flipped the script, focusing on the backsides of men. Midway through the set, the band delivered an old-school punk number that seemed like a nod to their Beastie roots (Schellenbach played drums for the Beasties in their pre-hip-hop days). Drawing from their catalog, as well as their new album, the band was able to sustain the energy throughout the evening, but it was most interesting when they switched gears and took a page from their mentors. Still, Luscious Jackson showed confidence and chutzpah, rolling out its biggest hit, 1997’s “Naked Eye,” a mere four songs into the set. While the grooves didn’t let up, there was a certain sameness to much of their material. While they may not have had the impact as fellow East Coasters, Luscious Jackson’s sound is as unique to them as is the Ramones three-chord attack or the Feelies amped-up melodicism, but that can be a double-edge sword. More than a decade later, they still sounded strikingly original live, with their hip-hop beats and Cunniff and Glaser’s alternating singing and rapping.
In other words, at the El Rey these mothers showed they can still bring it.īack in the ’90s, Luscious Jackson’s mix of laid-back funk, hip-hop and white-girl soul sounded fresh on the alt-rock airwaves sandwiched between Pearl Jam and its sound-alikes and the mild mannered Lilith Fair acts. By once again picking up their instruments and returning to the road, the members of Luscious Jackson may have invented “Mom funk,” a term that we don’t throw around disparagingly, but as a triumphant tag for three women who have experienced the joys of motherhood and have now returned to their youthful passion without losing a step. “Dad rock” is a somewhat derogatory term hipsters use to describe middle-age musicians who deliver middle-of-the-road rock, lacking in intensity and edginess.
PHOTOS: Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2014 Induction Ceremony Despite their lengthy absence, the trio - augmented by multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Aaron Jones, keyboardist/vocalist Leila Adu as well as DJ ADW Young - delivered a solid hour-and-15-minute at the El Rey Friday night to an adoring, but less-than-capacity crowd. For one, the Beastie Boys, their one-time mentors who signed them to their now long-defunct Grand Royal label, are no more, following the 2012 death of Adam Yauch from cancer. Of course, a lot of bands and trends have come and gone in their nearly decade-and-half absence.