Paul Lester 

Southern fried boogie

Little Feat Forum, London Rating: **
  
  


There were three groups who vividly chronicled life in post-Woodstock America. The Band sought refuge from the psychedelic intensity of the period in the country's roots. Steely Dan had at least one eye on the future. Then there were Little Feat, who seemed to be the most comfortable in the here and now, making a new kind of party music out of blues, country, funk, R&B and rock'n'roll.

Their good-time boogie was offset by the idiosyncratic vision of mainman and former art-rocker Lowell George. Without Lowell (he died in 1979 from a heart attack), however, Little Feat are a headless Southern-fried chicken of a group - an exemplary bar band, no more, no less. Here to promote their latest album Chinese Work Songs, there is no denying the technical excellence of the six experts in their chosen field (keyboards, two guitars, bass, drums, percussion, plus gutsy, ballsy vocalist Shaun Murphy - a woman, by the way), five of whom have been playing with the band for almost three decades. But singer, guitarist and de facto leader Paul Barrere, who joined the Feat for their highly regarded third album, Dixie Chicken, doesn't have George's eccentric sensibility. Instead, he simply acts as cheerleader for a two-hour display of dexterous musicianship.

If only they could ally their polish and professionalism to the sort of succinct melodies they used to knock out during their heyday. Tonight, the titles merely provide parentheses within which each player solos to the best of his ability. There is a studied, scientific precision to this sloppy, loose music, and yet the audience clearly finds it all quite tasty.

Barrere and bassist Kenny Gradney do some formation strutting. Barrere and Tackett contort their faces. Shaun Murphy hollers and whoops like Bonnie Raitt. A touch of slide geetar here and honky tonk piano there unleashes the spirit of the Grand Ol' Opry. It's all very impressive. Still, you can't help feeling they are playing more for each other than for us, intricate cross-rhythms, slap bass, duelling lead guitars and all. This ain't communication, it's masturbation.


***** Unmissable **** Recommended *** Enjoyable ** Mediocre * Terrible

 

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