The first time some people heard (or even heard of) Ben Harper, it was at a Pearl Jam concert at San Jose State University's Spartan Stadium in 1995. The adversarial crowd at the show -- a make up date for the "Neil Jam" fiasco in Golden Gate Park, when a sick Vedder bowed out early and Neil Young had to save the day - wasn't expecting all that much from the openers, Seattle's Fastbacks and the unknown Harper. Most were, in fact, openly hostile to the idea of anyone but Pearl Jam and Ed Vedder getting their asses on stage and giving the crowd their money's worth -- ASAP.
That day, Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals were something close to a revelation. Faced with 20,000+ hard to please, surly Pearl Jam diehards, Harper was a folksy, funky, bluesy, hip-hop apostle. He deftly ran his band of Criminals through a short set of revved up Hendrix mutations ("Ground On Down"), dirty Delta, bottlenecked grooves ("Excuse Me Mister") rootsy, pro-hemp hip hop ("Burn One Down") and closed -- to standing ovations -- with a positive, Bob Marley-channeling-Langston Hughes gospel rocker ("I Rise"). It was a memorable, breakthrough performance. Undoubtedly helped by the rabid fans who form the online Pearl "Jamily," Ben Harper's name was soon being passed on to thousands of alt-rock fans, followers and critics within e-arshot.
Locals may remember a sold out show at The Casbah in 1996. Harper's mesmerizing performance that night, complete with jaw-dropping, slidewinder solos (on his trademark laptop Weissenborn) and show-stopping ballads, was one of the rare occasions when a Casbah performer commanded the hip crowd's undivided attention. During his solo, acoustic ode to heartbreak, "Another Lonely Day," Harper's hypnotic effect on the crowd prompted bartenders to turn off sink faucets and stop washing pint glasses - the rapt silence of the audience was that complete.
The mainstream breakthrough never really came for Harper. The critics loved his next two records -- though some saw him as an unoriginal 60s throwback. But neither 1997's The Will To Live nor this year's Burn To Shine have made him a household name. Like hometown peer Beck (both grew up playing artsy folk circuits near LA's San Fernando Valley), Harper now cultivates a cult audience, and regularly sells out B-list venues across the country, like UCSD's Rimac Arena. Unlike Beck, Harper has yet to do the MTV icon, platinum-selling "Next Big" thing which so many predicted for him. "Steal My Kisses," a beat box and 808 kick drum-infused ditty that had mild radio success, sounded great to more discerning new music fans, but it had little more than a novelty appeal to the teen, TRL-driven charts. It was soon bumped from most 91X-type stations to make way for the Blink 182s and P.O.D.s of the world.
Great. That means fans can still catch Harper in modestly sized venues and other non-arena settings -- like this weekend's Street Scene 2000. Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals headline the Best Buy Stage on Sunday, September 10th. Others will have to wait for a new, double CD live album, due in stores early next year.
This article originally appeared in D-Town 92101, San Diego's Downtown Weekly.
© Will K. Shilling, 2000.