LIQUID SOUL 12/25, DURTY NELLIE’S; 12/27, DOUBLE DOOR; 12/31, the roxie If you weren’t inclined to see this hard-gigging, upbeat local funky-jazz outfit earlier in the year, you’re probably even less so now, since there’s already enough good cheer in the air to choke a reindeer. But a Liquid Soul set could be just the thing on, say, Christmas night–especially if you’re already in the suburbs and looking to escape the family for a few hours. Among the bits that won me over, from this past spring’s mostly live Make Some Noise (Ark 21): a witty intro that addresses “the expectorant crowd,” a slinky hip-hop take on Dizzy Gillespie’s “Salt Peanuts” with a cameo by Kurt Elling, and “Cookie’s Puss,” an original that incorporates a sample from 70s freak-funk fave du jour the Jimmy Castor Bunch.
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TERRY CALLIER & BEYOND, SWIMMER, FUNKADESI, PELVIC DELTA 12/26, DOUBLE DOOR Terry Callier, one of the few real soul men in acid jazz, started out by bringing a little swing to the Old Town School folk scene–and warm fuzzy memories of the 60s notwithstanding, his role as a mold breaker wasn’t always easy. But the world has caught up to him at last: in perhaps his lowest-profile gig of the year, he headlines a release party for Novo Records’ Chicago Rapid Transit compilation, which features one of his tunes as well as slightly stiffer second-gen contributions from acts like the others on this bill.
SUGARBUZZ 1/2, METRO The good news is that on its second album, Submerged (Parasol), this Chicago indie-pop duo achieves the sound of a full band; the bad news is that the full band it sounds most like is Bryan Adams’s. There are a few nice but obvious moments–like when on the line “You set your sights incredibly high,” from “Halo,” vocalist Brian Leach hits a cracking falsetto–and the harmonies are sweeter than average. But like cotton candy this stuff melts away before you can really get the taste of it. Less sugar and more buzz is what I’m after. The bill features three other acts on the downstate Mud and Parasol labels, including the Great Crusades, described by Rolling Stone’s usually sharp David Fricke as a “roughneck Tindersticks” whose singer has “the tubercular pipes of Tom Waits and Axl Rose’s love child.”
