While many Chicagoans savor St. Patrick’s Day as a welcome late-winter bacchanalia, others dread the annual emergence of bagpipes, tin whistles and endless choruses of “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”
This year, those folks can participate in a less familiar but more indigenous cultural celebration.
The Native American quartet Red Thunder will perform its singular hybrid of traditional music and contemporary pop Sunday evening at Urbus Orbis.
Formed in 1990 by singer/songwriter Robby Romero, Red Thunder combines Native American chants, drumming and stories with basic rock/pop songcraft. Along with acoustic guitar and bass, the quartet uses traditional drums, flutes and percussion.
“We’ve been inspired by many Native American musicians from Jesse Ed Davis to Jim Pepper to Buffy Sainte-Marie,” relates Romero after a recent Philadelphia radio show. “But Red Thunder is doing something unique. We’re the first native group that’s woven traditional instruments and music along with modern acoustic instruments and music into a blanket we call Native Rock.”
Red Thunder’s members mostly hail from the New Mexico area and individually represent Apache, Taos Pueblo, Pueblo and Aztec heritages. That cultural background infuses all of the band’s music and lyrics.
“Our music is a vehicle to introduce new thoughts and concepts to replace old misconceptions regarding native peoples,” claims Romero. “We want to bring our heritage into the present with the strength and power of the past.”
Romero takes exception to the way pop culture portrays Native Americans and their history. He even accuses purportedly sympathetic films of distortion and insensitivity.
“`Dances with Wolves,’ `Geronimo’ and `Last of the Mohicans’ are all one grade above a John Wayne film in their portrayal of native peoples,” says Romero. “They claim to be sympathetic, yet they continue to misrepresent us. In `Dances with Wolves’ it’s stated that the great Sioux nation ended at the turn of the century. If that’s true, then who were all those Lakota people who appeared in the film? Our culture is not a relic or an ancient myth. It’s still living.”
Red Thunder’s music aims to ensure it stays that way.
Individual listings are by Rick Reger unless otherwise noted.
Muzsikas with Marta Sebestyen, Saturday at the Old Town School of Folk Music: The group Muzsikas and the ethereal singer Marta Sebestyen are the world’s foremost performers and interpreters of Hungarian folk music — especially the variety found in Transylvania — known to many only through its assimilation in the classical works of Bela Bartok and Zoltan Kodaly. Muzsikas and Sebestyen’s earthy, energetic and authoritative performances and records brilliantly capture the music’s rhythmic complexity, uniquely piquant harmonies and gorgeous melodies.
The Fugees, Friday at the Park West: This New Jersey-based triumvirate is out to expand hip-hop’s turf by swapping the genre’s aggression and posturing with lighter, more plaintive grooves, vintage soul tunefulness and ego-deflating humor. The Fugees’ new record “The Score” generally makes good on that mission with imaginative sampling, a nicely varied delivery and some real musicianship. Though not a revolution, “The Score” flashes some fresh moves.
Collective Soul, Saturday at the Vic Theatre: Step 1: Bring rhythm section to a light boil; Step 2: Stir in a handful of sizzling guitar riff; Step 3: Sweeten with a sprinkle of light pop melodies. Voila! The Collective Soul souffle. Palatable but not exactly tasty. (This show is sold out.)
The Drovers, Saturday at the Metro: Unlike corned beef and cabbage, the Drovers are no longer just a St. Paddy’s Day specialty. Among the original Celtic-rock revivalists, these local mainstays now enliven their musical hash with moody, quasi-psychedelic rock. There’s still some fiddle-and-tin-whistle garnish, but the band’s improved songwriting is now the main course. Still, expect some whiskey-flecked jigs and reels at these shows.
Otis Clay, Friday and Saturday at B.L.U.E.S. Etcetera: Chicago’s deep soul amabassador brings his horn-leavened R&B grooves to Etcetera for a relatively rare two-night stand (expect plenty of sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor). Clay scored a passel of hits during the late 1960s and early ’70s; his biggest, 1972’s surging “Trying To Live My Life Without You” (cut nearly a decade before Bob Seger got his mitts on it), was produced by Willie Mitchell in Memphis for Hi Records, home of Al Green. Clay’s gritty, melismatic intensity is a glorious throwback to the heyday of pure soul music.
– Bill Dahl
Illusion of Safety, Friday at the Empty Bottle: Illusion of Safety intrepidly charts the terra incognita where sound, silence, noise and music intersect. Using conventional instruments, sound generating devices and random objects, IOS hews sonic sculptures that deliberately provoke, mesmerize and even affront listeners. The band’s latest release, “From Nothing to Less,” contains seven atmospheric improvisations that unfold subtly shaded noise-scapes with glacial calm. Specula also performs.
Jackson Browne, Tuesday at the Star Plaza: Like many great ’70s singer/songwriters, Jackson Browne seemed bewildered in the next decade. His lyrics began trading personal insight for social consciousness-raising, and his once expressive melodies often lapsed into perfunctory pop formula. Browne’s new CD, “Looking East,” displays a fairly recuperated melodic savvy, yet the poignancy of his best work remains a mere echo.
Wicker Man, Saturday at the Double Door: This Chicago quartet croaks up a truly bilious grunge-metal spew. Wicker Man fuses grunge at its most ferocious with heavy metal minus the cliches. The result is pure, distilled guitar aggression, a kind of aural Evian for headbangers.
Brother Cane, Friday at the Metro: Like an aromatic old bong discovered in the basement, Brother Cane’s tuneful hard rock reeks of the ’70s. The band’s sophomore CD, “Seeds,” vividly recalls the arena-rock era with its boogieing guitar riffs, power chord-padded melodic flights and mirror-ball balladry. Give these guys a 7 for rejecting grunge but only a 3 for originality.
Dan Zanes, Friday at Schubas: After an extended absence, ex-Del Fuegos front man Dan Zanes checks back into the heartbreak hotel of pop music. His new “Cool Down Time” pairs a languid soul strut with his previous band’s bare-bones rock ethic. The tremolo-soaked guitars and electric piano whispers emit a sultry, sometimes bluesy haze that’s moody, evocative and occasionally irresistible.
Sunnyland Slim tribute, Thursday at Buddy Guy’s Legends: On March 17 of last year, beloved Chicago blues piano patriarch Albert “Sunnyland Slim” Luandrew passed away. His mammoth legacy encompassed hundreds of records over half a century (both as a leader and sideman), his rumbling 88s and booming voice never wavering. This tribute reunites three-quarters of his longtime combo, the Big 4 (guitarist Steve Freund, saxist Sam Burckhardt, and bassist Bob Stroger, while ex-Muddy Waters drummer Willie “Big Eyes” Smith replaces the late Robert Covington), to play with piano masters Pinetop Perkins and Erwin Helfer, among others.
– Bill Dahl
Maria McKee, Friday at the Double Door: Possessing a distinctive voice and decent songwriting chops, Maria McKee’s Achilles’ heel is consistency. Each of her records showcases a slightly different sound and set of influences without ever quite defining her own personality. McKee’s upcoming record “Life Is Sweet” supplants her recent country proclivities with songs that mingle window-rattling guitars and strings, rugged simplicity and Bowie- esque melodrama.
Dis-, Saturday at the Empty Bottle: On its recent “The Historically Troubled Third Album,” Dis- fortifies its bruising, blackjack attack with intriguingly constructed songs and surprisingly lyrical instrumental passages. As this trio’s music grows more sophisticated, it’s lost little of its dark-hued vigor.
The Slugs, Saturday at the Cue Club: In the late ’80s this bashy power pop trio was a spirited presence on the local scene. Though dormant in recent years, the Slugs are back again, older and wiser perhaps but hopefully no less exuberant.
