In the year-end wrap up of Bent Nights for 2002, I heralded Icons ( now re-released via Bandcamp )—the sophomore album by Marvin Tate and the D-Settlement—as not only one of the best recordings of the year but as an event in itself.
The D-Settlement, a collective that features four astounding lead vocalists ( Tate, Tina Howell, Adam Conway, and Rene Ruffin ) backed by a genre-crossing crew of inspired musicians, made it a point to collide funk, hard rock, acid jazz and hardcore soul music in such an explosive fashion that they threatened to point urban music toward a new direction. Sadly, that break never happene,d which made the rare blow-out by the reunited group at the Arts Incubator, 301 E. Garfield Ave., on March 14 all the more thrilling and timely.
The night's biggest shocker was the revelation of how Icons and this "band" have rightfully become the stuff of legend. Truth be told, Tate and his D-Settlement are exactly what Sly Stone ( and his "Family" ) and Prince ( with his "Revolution" ) were aiming for in decades past—a stylistic, race- and gender-inclusive mix of personalities, perspectives, styles and experiences fused into a clear vision of life in these current times. As performed in this setting, Icons proved to be one for the ages, not only for its sound but it's lyrical content. The recording has more then "held up," in these last 13 years. It is far richer then Prince's Sign of the Times or Purple Rain ( 1986 and 1984, both on Warner Bros. Records ) or Stone's There's A Riot Going On ( 1969, CBS/Sony Records ) and remains as a pungent document of this age. After seeing this show I had to go back and listen to the CD again, and embrace the fact that had the D-Settlement actually anticipated in 2002, where we would be in 2013?
It made perfect sense for this concert ( actually an interview presentation with Mario Smith for Off the Record ) to take place in an art gallery since the D-Settlement's live performances generally morph into "performance art." If all the hoo-ha about timeliness that I have mentioned seems hollow, the opener for the show, "Jury Duty," was a brazen reality check. In this performance, the song was presented as a solemn spiritual hymn while drummer Virus X read a name list of innocent bystanders gunned down by trigger happy police officers with all ten members of the group singing in harmony while assembled at the front of the performance space. With each name mentioned, Conway placed a lone full-stemmed red rose on the floor—and the vibe was so solemn that it felt like a wake.
If the idea that things have not changed much ( or actually gotten worse ) since 2002, there was an immediate explosion of joy that more then filled the silence with a near violent punch. "Mama's Got a New Boyfriend" still cooked like sizzling grits and, early in the jam, Tate snapped at the polite seated crowd, "What y'all doing sitting on a Saturday night?!!?!" With Howell and the band stuck neck deep in the muddy groove and Tate going apeshit over the chorus ( "So HAP-PAAAYYY!!!" ), the room morphed from a hushed art viewing into a hip-shaking freak out. "Trouble A'Coming ( The Heidi-Ho Song )" went off the rails in the first verse and turned into a prolonged acid funk workout, while Conway's "The Number Man" was polished down into a simmering slow cooker. The most celebratory song of the evening came with a protracted jam through "A Great Day ( in the Neighborhood )" which elegantly embraced everyday life in mundane surroundings...after hearing it you could not escape feeling pride in where ever you called home.
Typically, there were surprises, the first of which was the appearance of original member and key vocalist Rene Ruffin ( who now lives in California with her husband and children, but flew in unannounced to the band for this performance ) and Tate popping up onstage with butterflies glued to his head. ( You have to admit: No one saw THAT coming. ) As expected, Tate acted like a ringleader from another galaxy: part clown, agitator, poet, preacher and mad dervish ( yes, the pants came off ) and, as a reknowned poet and author, he has become a mystifying cultural figure for the ages. What still makes the D-Settlement such an unforgettable experience is the cohesion and power that they create once they get together onstage or in a studio. I could go on about the intricacies of that fusion and get lost in what would amount to a load of babble but the D-Settlement cut me to the quick by closing the show with an incendiary rip through "The 'N' Word" and "Turn the Mutha Fuckin' Lights Back On!!!!" I will take that as Tate and the D-Settlement's way of telling me to keep it light.
If Tate and his crew turn gutbucket '60s soul into a freakout for the new century, Logan Square band The Bribes takes pure '50s era rock and re-fashions it into something fresh and bracing. The band—with Phil Toscano on guitar/vocals, Joe Blickenov on drums and Bryan Purcell on bass—has a dynamic that is sneaky and misleading but has the impact of a hard edged sucker punch. At a recent low-key support gig at Fizz, 3220 N. Lincoln Ave., the group previewed its upcoming sophomore release in front of a weekend crowd that was unfamiliar with them. What was highly amusing was that though the room was stuffed with friends and supporters of the headliners, the unheralded Bribes stole the show with such panache that once they got off-stage they sucked the air out of the room. Toscano, in particular, could have smirked and strutted but he did not need to, and besides, he seems way too nice to do such a thing.
Now about that dynamic: On stage, Blickenov and Purcell seem to vanish into the background as they quietly noodle away which gives "Mr. Friendly" Toscano the floor to literally tear holes in the ozone with his stinging guitar licks and a honeyed growl that is far deadlier then his charming appearance suggests. Between the way he runs his fingers up and down his Epiphone Rivera guitar, the disturbing intimacy in his vocals, and the coiled danger in his posture ( shoulders scrunched in tight and his nose crammed up against his Shure Super 55 microphone, with lips and teeth clenched while delivering the lyrics with the fury of a predator biting into living flesh ), he projects a manic fury that is simultaneously vicious and enchanting.
The reality is that The Bribes are hardly Toscano's "back-up" band since Blickenov and Purcell, with all that sleepy subtlety creating a nearly invisible framework on and around him that elevates rockers like the new "Garbage In, Garbage Out" and "Carmen" into pungent and memorable epics. The interplay of the band may suggest a visual and sonic display of extremes. ( Blickenov looks like he is about to fall off his stool into a coma and Purcell looks like an open-faced child who can't understand who stole his milk and cookies. Coupled with Toscano's crackling electricity, the three of them look like a Looney Tunes cartoon, albeit with far more bite. ) However, what comes out through the monitors is clearly some of the most compelling rock 'n' roll being made in Chicago. The Bribes are such a blast that I would gladly take one of their low-key, low-rent shows over $3-million stadium gigs in some hollow arena. God save The Bribes...
Heads up: For those heartbroken that they could not nab tickets to Joan Armatrading's show at City Winery, 1200 W. Randolph St., on April 24, out rocker Crys Matthews and Reina Williams will be playing Uncommon Ground, 1401 W. Devon Ave., on the same date. The next edition of Glitter Creeps, Donnie Moore's LGBTQ-flavored rock showcase at The Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western Ave., will be on April 15, with The Baby Magic, Bruiser Queen and Strawberry Jacuzzi on the bill. If all of that is not enough, Cathy Richardson will be playing City Winery on May 22.
