Super sessions

Duke Robillard, Gruvis Malt, and more

by Michael Caito

Gruvis Malt

Duke Robillard, the Westerly native and master blues guitarist correctly dubbed "superhuman" by Blues Access magazine, makes his debut on Shanachie with New Blues for Modern Man. Evidently both the new label and the Roomful co-founder had enough faith in Jack Gauthier and his Lakewest Studios to return there for New Blues, the bulk of which was created last June. Though a Kaintuck' resident these days, Duke enlists the homegrown skills of longtime Roomful horn player Doug James, who's tremendous throughout on bari and tenor saxes, bass clarinet and writing duties on "Good Man." Tenor player Dennis Taylor, upright bassist John Packer and drummer Marty Richards comprise Duke's core band, with notable guest cornet turns by old pal Al Basile (returning the favor of Duke's appearance on Basile's recent Down on Providence Plantation, available at www.albasile.com). Also appearing are Marilynn Mair and Mark Davis (on mandola, mandocello, accordion and mandolin), whom Robillard met out his way last year.

Eight of the dozen tracks were penned by Robillard, with a ridiculously catchy update of Charlie Patton's "Pony Blues" kicking things into high gear after the semi-autobiographical opener "Jumpin' Rockin' Rhythm." By now there's not much new that can be said of Duke's playing except he's still peerless and extraordinarily tasteful. While a recurring love motif isn't new in blues or any genre, the ability to pen a convincing, aching love song like "You're the Only One," and having a good ol' boy time on the aforementioned Patton track while making it all believable is something best left to pros. Here, they're all pros. The cover of Dylan's "Love Sick" emphasizes menace over melancholia, and both the breadth and depth of Robillard's playing makes this album's title appropriate for this quintessential contemporary bluesman. One of a kind. Still.

Gruvis Malt: Sound Soldiers (Solids Pimpz 11-track CD)

Time to pass out the superlatives for this sextet's debut, all the more impressive given their youth but not at all surprising given their talent and determination. To encompass so many elements of jazz, funk, hip-hop, rap and rock is way dangerous and usually ends up being annoying, but several things prevent this pileup on Soldiers. The first is always gonna be songwriting, and they succeed in keeping the flavors unforced, whether in the coiled funk of the single "Volume," the resolution of a rock feedback frenzy resolving into a swinging funk groove on "Yes It Hurts," a well-constructed reggae-tinged instrumental such as "Fi8ure" or a crazy lounge break in the middle of "Lumas," named after the official band pooch.

Secondly, they resist the common mistake of taking confidence in their own playing over the cliffs of indulgence, and where there are instances of collective overplaying, the way the songs are constructed serve as a self-limiting choke chain for such moments.

Third, it's always about ideas, whether in words or riffs, and led by singer Brendan and singer / keyboardist Flint (unstoppable throughout), these guys -- all of whom are barely old enough to buy their own 40s -- have so many that, in lesser hands, the overall groove would suffocate. That is doesn't is a tribute to the band and production crew. In this case it's Diva Studios' Dave Stem (ex-Vehicle) and, later, former Obsidian/Newspeak operator Fank Difficult (V Majestic) who keep the youthful exuberance focused despite occasionally long odds. How long? "Yes It Hurts" recreates the complexities of an artist's creation process in a cogent snapshot, capturing frustration without whininess. "No Fighting" may be their signal moment, in literary and musical terms, as Brendan explains the lowering of standards and blasts acceptance of a "lowest common denominator" mentality while also addressing the integrity of those who create by merely repackaging the original works of others. Beck, Puff: can you fuckin' hear me? Also in the same tune: concept of music as god and other identity issues, all crafted meticulously, bottomed by Saunder and Scott's supple rhythm section work. Guitarist/trombonist Ethan keeps the '70s funk trippy and jubilant, and saxman Eric picks his spots with power and grace. While singer Brendan may not be the very smoothest MC around, his lyrics and dexterity in the use of synonymy, internal rhyme and oddball metric clusters have always impressed this English major.

But could it all be another case of a young band taking years to make a great first record then losing it by taking so long to do another? Doubtful. The care with which the package was assembled (booklet, artwork are very sharp) plus their own maintenance, last week at the listening party, that they've another LP worth of songs ready to record, mean that the talent is there to keep it going for a long while. As far-flung debuts go, they've avoided the obvious traps and stuck to their instincts, however complex. So I'd guess that Sound Soldiers is the first of many. Find it.

Gruvis Malt headline an all-ages record release party on Friday at Lupo's with Nothing Stays Gold . . .

Art Official Intelligence (demo cassette)

Before we forget, the other band on the Lupo's bill Friday, Nothing Stays Gold, feature two former members of Corrin, and they will also celebrate the release of an eponymous five-song EP on Westhampton-based Devil's Head Records.

Meanwhile, this rough demo from the band making a lotta noise around URI's Kingston campus can rank right up there with local works by MCs and producers POAM, Derick Prosper and Mastermind as quality rap light on gangsta trappings. Frontman MC Sage can hang with a number of contemporary wordsmiths in flow and content, amply backed by synth, drums and bass. The tracks (untitled on the dub I got from Gruvis) showcase a philosophical bent exploring the "essence of man," but also devote time to concrete contempo issues like sexual responsibility. Furious (in speed and conviction) wordplay from Sage usually crystallizes into accusatory questions. Or maybe you thought "Are we the First World when education comes last?" is just another cartoonish gangsta dick-grab. Sage kicks. Arrive early.

STARS & BARS. Herbal Nation perform on the URI quad Saturday at Hempfest. The festival is intended to raise awareness of the huge potential for the miracle fiber, hemp, to reduce overall dependence on petroleum-based fuels, and thus the global political machinations and ceaseless war-mongering of those jockeying for control of said fuels. With Earth Day here it's a grand time to notice such things. And those trying to shoe-horn the pro-hemp movement into the murky realm of movements for total legalization of drugs like heroin and cocaine should be aware. Or is that beware? Also, on the Web I've received nine emails about the proposed gas-out next week, when everyone is supposed to fill up on Thursday and not buy any gas at all on Friday to protest gettin' gooned at the pumps. Gotta start somewhere, but Repo Man again comes to mind: "The more you drive, the less intelligent you are." At presstime rumors flew that Neutral Nation may resurface for a coupla tunes on the Quadrangle, if they can locate Dave "Tonsil Pus" Chabot.

Evil this weekend: Arson Family appear Friday at the Ocean Mist and significant popsters Sidedoor Johnnies appear at AS220. Saturday, Shed and Freakshow appear at the Living Room; Shed drummer Ricci mentioned that their pals Staind (from Springfield, not Shelbyville) have released Dysfunction (Elektra/Flip).

The Willie Myette Trio celebrate the release of . . . this is jazz (Jazzkids) on Saturday at 9 p.m. at the Providence Bookstore Cafe, with Mike Connors (Combustible Edison, Joe Parillo Trio) on skins.

Name the Rhode Island connection: Gretzky's last point.