| Mark Eitzel & The Magnificent Seven Gallery Theatre,Los Angeles,CA May 13th 1997 Giant disco ball lemons, firework explosions and dancers in vinyl leopard-skin pants ... When you've got six or seven of the best musicians around to back you, who needs that crap? Certainly not Tuatara, who backed Mark Eitzel (formerly of American Music Club) at the Gallery Theatre downtown on Tuesday. The band - made up of members from Luna, R.E.M., Critters Buggin and Screaming Trees - also played their own material from their Epic debut, "Breaking the Ethers." Scott McCaughey of Minus 5 was also on hand to add his unique blend of guitar and organ-driven insanity, as well as Los Lobos' Steve Berlin on flute and sax. With eight musicians on stage, outnumbered two to one by instruments, ranging from vibraphones (two of them) to an upright bass, things could've gotten hectic. But aided by years of experience in other bands, the group put on a smooth, confident performance. Plus, they were having too much fun to worry about logistics. Though known as rock artists in their respective bands, the members of Tuatara are anything but. First, the band covers everything from Latin and funk to cool jazz and what can only be called organized mayhem. Most songs also go well over five minutes. Second, the band played more to themselves than to the audience, as though in a jam session or lost in their own musical reverie. Some fans may find this unnerving, but it worked perfectly for the atmosphere of the show. It was as though the fourth wall had been broken down and the audience was privy to an incredible jam among buddies. Third, each member plays at least four or five instruments. Skerik (of Critters Buggin), the standout virtuoso of sax, also dabbles in steel drums, piano, vibes, percussion, the harmonium and the, uh, udu. This versatility and professionalism allowed the band members to switch roles constantly and hop from slide guitar to vibes to dulcimer. Aside from keeping things more interesting for them, the musical chairs gave each song a different flavor. Eitzel's "Stunned and Frozen" was a great showcase for the band, many of whom got a chance to solo. The song itself was a lilting 3/4-time piece, more upbeat than usual. The musicians took this as a cue to cut loose, and they did - going ballistic on the vibes, rendering crazed drum and sax solos that left them and the crowd breathless. "Dreamscape," another 3/4-time tune, fit its moody title, with McCaughey on organ. The steel drums, a prominent element on the album, picked up the eerie tone of the keyboard, bass and minor key. "The Getaway" couldn't have been more different. Skerik, as always, punctuated the song's dynamic funk with a "honk honk" of the tenor sax. Berlin's alto sax was soon competing for supremacy, and the two began a wild duet that ended in delicious cacophony. R.E.M.'s Peter Buck added to the insanity on electric guitar. Buck mostly stuck to electric and acoustic guitar, though for a song here and there he picked up the slide guitar or dulcimer, as on "On Desert Sky," another one of the band's best. The dulcimer's hollow twang, together with the occasional pounding of a massive drum that resembled the crack of thunder, created the feel of an Arizona lightning storm across an otherwise dead still desert. This mastery of tone and technique was the backbone of Eitzel's incredibly powerful performance. Tuatara is also the backup band on his solo debut, "West," which Buck co-wrote and produced. Again, the familiarity the musicians had with each other was apparent. Eitzel has a definite stage presence - awkward and melancholy, yet immediately likeable and surprisingly funny. He opened with, "Hello. It's like a high school auditorium in here," and dove into some sparse songs accompanied only by his acoustic guitar. After the first two songs, he said, "Why bother with the PA?" and climbed in front of the speakers to sing sans microphone. The darkness of the theater, his amazing voice - which belts as clear as a bell but also rasps - and the intimacy of one guitar made it feel like a campfire gathering. Though he used a mike for the Tuatara-backed songs, he remained at the very front of the stage the whole time, the consummate performer. Though some of his lyrics get somewhat self-indulgent and bleak, he exudes a sincerity that makes you commiserate with him rather than pity or dismiss him. He brought the band back out for the third song, "Lower East Side Tourist," which is about his trip to New York with the band Lush. Two weeks after he got home, one of its members committed suicide. Typical Eitzel material. He balanced this with humor and promises to "fuckin' rock" when he returned for his next set. Of course he didn't, but that was the point. His melancholy was a great contrast to the high-voltage jams of Tuatara, as the intimacy of his voice was to their instrumental soundscapes. His voice and delivery are much more passionate and fluid live than on record. He sings as though in physical pain, like Bono in the mid-'80s. As though his breath holds him up, he buckles his knees and slumps his shoulders and spine with every exhalation, weighed down by his own despairing words. Through much of the show, his left arm was across his chest, his hand over his heart or tucked under his armpit, as though he was shielding himself from something. This is not surprising in light of the fact that, next to Trent Reznor and Morrissey, he is the King of Gloom - a reputation he earned with the American Music Club. This was most apparent in a beautiful song that he and Buck wrote the day before the show - at a radio interview, nonetheless. Buck was hesitant, asking, "Do we know it?" as Eitzel produced a crumpled yellow piece of note paper with lyrics on it and put it on the speaker in front of him. But this was obviously mock worry, as the tragic love song went off without a hitch. Anyone else singing, "Oh, me, I don't have anyone. Oh, me, my soul is frozen" would be asking for a swift kick to the groin, but Eitzel made it work. He played most of the songs off of "West" and a few additional tunes without the aid of Tuatara. Unfortunately, one of the most beautiful ones is not on his album. This was an unusual choice, as it opened the set. He belted, "I swear you could see me if you could open your eyes," and "I'll never leave you" over gorgeous chord changes. From there though, he picked up the pace a bit. His one hit and truly upbeat song - and both of those terms are used extremely loosely - is "In Your Life," a melodic gem Buck originally wrote for R.E.M. This one closed the set, though Tuatara immediately returned to do a brand-new song - one of the wildest of the night. Skerik, in usual form, was jumping 3 feet into the air and throwing his head forward like a chicken keeping the beat. Even Eitzel couldn't stay off stage. He creeped on in the back, hurling a tambourine into the air, matching the stick-throwing feats of the drummer. At this point, the seats of the Gallery Theatre were more of a hindrance than a help. Sitting for the quiet songs of Eitzel's set was great, but during the bombastic jams of Tuatara, the seats were as confining as straight jackets or velvet ropes. Every foot in the aisle was tapping, heads of balding 40-year-olds and teenage punks alike were bobbing away. Though his name was squashed at the bottom of the show's bill, Scott McCaughey of Minus 5 (whose other half is Pete Buck, apparently the busiest guy in the business) was as big a hit. He had the charisma of Freddie Mercury and the silliness and sense of humor of Robin Williams, joking, "My turn. Sorry," as he took the mike. Tuatara backed his songs too, of course, though they were more rock-oriented. "This is our latest incarnation. You never know who's going to play on a particular night, but it's all all right with me," he commented, summing up the tone of the evening and the ultimate statement on what a show should be. His mane of frizzy, dirty-blond curls fluttered in his self-induced breeze as he jumped into the air and tore up his guitar. The two-and-a-half hour show was an example of what a show should be - no frills, no vinyl outfits, just a bunch of great musicians kicking around for a few hours, then going for beer. The audience's diversity was a testament to the band's wide appeal, especially considering they all come from rock bands that many young people haven't even heard of (with the obvious exception of R.E.M.). But if this show is any indication, that may all change soon. Reviewed by Kristin Fiore For The Daily Bruin May 15th 1997 Return to homepage here |