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Colonel Les Claypool's Fearless Flying Frog Brigade |
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Somerville Theatre
Somerville, Massachusetts
09.01.00 |
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review
In exchange for a small fee, a few hundred fortunate fans found themselves floundering before the phenomenal force of bass wizard Les Claypool and his Fearless Flying Frog Brigade. Throughout two distinctive sets and a one-song encore, the quintet pumped boundless energy and vibrant color into the Somerville Theatre, a quaint venue in downtown Somerville, Mass. Adorned in splendid outfits—probably peeled from the racks of some discount novelty store—the Frog Brigade launched into a series of spirited jams revolving around the slapping, popping, and deep gurgling of Claypool's ornate, wood-finish bass. The mustachioed madcap bounced around the stage in an orange jumpsuit, performing his customary one-legged jig, while dueling guitars sizzled and squealed in a flood of overdriven effects and ethereal atmospherics. At various junctures, the supremely skilled musicians spiraled off on exploratory tangents, until Colonel Claypool, with a bone-rattling thwock from his bass, pulled all forces back into one. The Frog Brigade shifted effortlessly between phases of meandering psychedelia and earth-shaking stomp with awe-inspiring timing and precision.
After scorching the crowd with this initial set of jams, the Frog Brigade quickly became a fierce and rambling wreck, fueled by a concoction of mind-blowing musicianship, fertile experimentation, and the eccentric wit of Colonel Claypool. Throughout the majority of Claypool's various projects, the guitarist's purpose is to blend free-flowing riffing and edgy leads into the already complex bass and drum interplay, which is the main engine driving the music. Early Primus collaborator and Sausage guitarist Todd Huth, dressed in denim coveralls and a flimsy cowboy hat, stepped into this role quite nicely alongside a forceful rhythm section that included Ratdog and Sausage drummer Jay Lane. The rhino-helmeted Lane was flawless throughout the set, tactfully playing winning hands of jazzy pitter-patter and thunderous mayhem. Huth's counterpart, a rangy, dreadlocked, unknown guitarist, brought an explosive, hard rock-oriented style that complemented Huth's subtle chord inflections and swirling, high-end digressions.
During a brief lull in the musical circus, Claypool engaged his microphone and spoke the lyrics to "Riders on the Storm" in a hurried, nasal deadpan. Soon thereafter, he delved into the Primus hit "Wynona's Got A Big Brown Beaver," spouting the words as if presiding over an auction. The highpoint of the first set was undoubtedly the shortened, enthusiastic Frog Brigade version of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond," which, unbeknownst to the audience, was a telling sign of things to come. Claypool and his two stringed comrades sang this famous tribute to the original madcap with brimming vigor, as keyboardist Jeff Chimenti, also of Ratdog, succeeded in capturing the song's majestic mood. After a short break, Huth returned alone to his spot on stage with an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. He proceeded to gently strum the instrument, producing a simple, hopeful rhythm that soon became recognizable as the Roger Waters-penned "Pigs on the Wing." Claypool soon returned wearing a grotesque pig mask, offering up the mournful lyrics in a voice that was surprisingly true to Waters' original recording. The rest of the Frog Brigade then returned, joining Claypool and Huth in an unexpected performance of Pink Floyd's 1977 conceptual opus, Animals.
The Frog Brigade built their performance of Animalson a potent blend of accuracy, timing, and an obvious enthusiasm for the music. Claypool nailed the high-end bass line that introduces "Pigs (Three Different Ones)," as the guitarists joined forces, perfectly capturing David Gilmour's dirty chords and transcendent lead work. The entire band was in a state of euphoria-in the midst of a fully-realized teenage dream-wailing the opening lyrics, "big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are," in unison. With such an amazingly precise performance of one of the Floyd's most musically ambitious albums, the Frog Brigade came about as close as possible to turning back the clock to 1977. For a little over forty minutes, they had the crowd frozen, reminiscing about a time when progressive concept albums and arena rock ruled. Visibly drained by the intense performance and the suffocating humidity inside the theatre, the Frog Brigade exited stage left, only to return for an encore of "Riddles Are Abound Tonight" (from the Sausage album of the same name), allowing Claypool the chance to gleefully thump his bass one last time before the night came to an end.
by Dan Cullity
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