Zack DLR takes In the soundcheck/photo: Erik Denno
One Day As A Lion: Inaugural Shows July 17th Pomona, Ca @ Alladin Jr’s Cafe and July 18th LA, Ca @ Eagle Rock Center for the Performing Arts:
Most of us, even the most faithful, assumed this project was dead. Although tantalizingly promised by Zack De La Rocha back in 2008 when questions arose regarding its long-term viability, the requisite follow-up tour in support of One Day As a Lion’s promising debut EP never materialized. It appeared the warm (though admittedly composed) reception the record engendered would go unrewarded. Speculation centered around ZDLR’s savagely self-critical artistic persona and his penchant for jettisoning projects when they failed to meet his perfectionistic demands (Father, Beto De La Rocha, a member of the influential Chicano art collective Los Four, once infamously set the totality of his paintings aflame in the throes of a spiritual crisis/nervous breakdown). Understandably, it is a tempting presumption to pin the blame on Zack, but without the involved parties explaining the delay, it’s ultimately unfair.
Today, almost two years later, again, as before, news about the duo breaks without warning. A couple of live dates slated not even a week away, the acquisition of keyboardist Joey Karam (The Locust) and that’s about as much preamble given. None of the customary “hey, nice to see you…how you doing?…what’cha been up too’s?” Concert-goers were asked to wait for location specifics once they procured their tickets. Day of and promoters request that divulged information about venues not be bandied about online social networks as the show spaces would be much too small to accommodate more than an intimate-setting’s worth of attendees. Naturally, one would begin to feel quite special; surely the fan-cultivation-retention plan the band and its management had in mind.
The inaugural show was held last Saturday afternoon within the suffocated confines of a port-a-storage-box sized open-mic-night room adjacent to the main dining area of Aladdin Jr’s Cafe in Pomona, Ca. No air-conditioning, and according to my infallible calculations (rigorous science employed, indeed), an approximate, tear-inducing 115 degrees F (10 degrees more unbearable than the searing sun-bathed sidewalk line-up we had to build character through for 2 hours). This veritable sweat lodge would be the crucible by which band and audience members alike would be put through the sort of distillation ritual (my loss of bodily fluids a testament to that) that reveals a clarifying, naked reality – in this case, whether or not this endeavor has lasting potential.
Donning intermediate green mechanic button-ups emblazoned with the The holloy’s abstract logo, said opening act rolled up their sleeves, slotted into their constricted performance spot with the crowd huddled around them at floor level beneath the comically under-sized stage (that would unironically take the shape of a soapbox later), and then graciously thanked their hosts before dispelling my Post-World Cup depression with their color saturated grooves. Two guitarists (a reuniting with past player Jon Gonnelli of Rye Coalition fame), two bassists, two drummers, and a perpetually smiling Jose Medeles of The Breeders doing his version of a timbalista; all bouncing up and down in response to the collective’s churning locomotive rhythm. Lead singer/bassist, Jim Brown, who sang in a distorted tribal chant that stretched out and blanketed nicely over the afro-beat instrumentation, had all my affections won when he introduced a blaring, triumphant horn line that invoked the spirit (without the bee-hive annoyance factor) of the vuvuzela. The lively crowd took to them with a beach-goer’s delight and made their appreciation known. The holloys inclusion was brilliant positioning by organizers as the spectra contrast was of mutual benefit to both bands.
Once instruments were disassembled and cleared from the floor in preparation for ODAAL, the perspiration-drenched crowd sauntered forward, hardly the type of siege-like mentality you’ve come to expect at a RATM show. I think it may have been a tempered enthusiasm that was being fashioned to preempt disappointment. This project has seemed on the ropes too many times for anyone looking to bestow their fanaticism upon it not to be wary. Are we finally getting this tour to placate us, or one of the founding members, to fulfill a contractual obligation, or to save face? How genuine is their commitment? Questions and doubts abound, but the most salient uncertainty had to do with the feasibility of sticking to drums and distorted keys minimalism in a live setting (detractors harped on the need to fill in the gaps with more traditional rock instruments); everything from here on out would probably be contingent on that.
Nervous energy was palpable in both Jon and Zack as they hit the stage, with the former looking off into the middle distance avoiding eye contact with the crowd as he nestled into the drum throne behind his stainless steel Ludwig kit and the latter looking a little jittery and out of his element behind his own stand-alone moog waiting to signal the charge. An inaudible stage cue from Zack and the instrumentalists engage instantaneously for the thrashing, high-register lead-in to Ocean View. The mini-sequence resolved into a cacophony of a rising cymbals wash that was met with expectant roars before Jon’s full-bodied pounce set the drums of war into motion. Zack pulled the pin out of his hand-grenade-masquerading-as-microphone, taking the foreground with zeal to unfurl a salvo of virulent, accusational rhymes over a droning buzz-saw synth line that the Bomb Squad’s Hank Shocklee might have sampled. You could almost see thought bubbles over the processing crowd as they took it in. Right around the end of the oddly-sung but appealing chorus is when you really noticed that an in-time physical response was starting to take hold in the audience and it was precisely at this moment that my worries were sloughed off. Shortly thereafter, I’m unencumbered enough to join my violent-impulse-bearing brethren in convulsive dance for the earth-leveling, bring-it-on-home coda, which was nicely set up with a beat dropout and a hi-hat that anchored the building suspense. At it’s conclusion, the crowd’s giddy roar inspired a round of knowing grins from Zack, Jon, & Joey.
Anyone skeptical about the stripped down sound needs to experience it live. Joey’s sparse, corpulent Dre Day bass tones, air-siren synth oscillations, and high-pitch melodies co-exist brilliantly with Jon’s deafening attack. Jon practically sounds like When The Levee Breaks at all times because his drums don’t have to compete for its own slice of the audio frequency spectrum. Both instruments have their own niches to fill and do so in a highly complimentary manner, to optimal effect. Adding more instrumentation would infringe on the space and volume the drums have been granted by this paradigm. And so guitars were not missed. Moreover, the debut of 4-5 new tracks (portending the imminent release of an LP?) highlighted ODAAL’s range, a range that was barely hinted at on the EP, and is further proof that a lot can be done with such a simple design in inspired hands (Wasn’t Orson Welles a proponent of the contrivance of imposing artistic limitations to coax creative solutions?).
The most pleasantly unexpected newness came in the form of a jazzy, Seasons In The Abyss type of breakdown where Jon put that authentic Earl Palmer swing of his to work. I could tell throughout the night that Jon took his work seriously in crafting compelling drum parts for this project; likely the product of being treated as a writing equal with songwriter’s rights. Many an admiring drummer will work at thoroughly deciphering and reproducing them faithfully. He played with a tempestuous gusto that reminded us of his considerable talent. It’d been a while since I last saw Jon with The Mars Volta and in those last shows at the end of his tenure with them, it seemed like he was going through the motions. At this show, in sharp contrast, he was clearly re-invigorated. Likewise, Zack looked like he was shedding the better part of a decade of existential angst. His tarantismic bursts harkened back to his youthful days with RATM, and then at the same time, in between songs, he was chatty and playful like I’ve never seen him. Lightness and levity, however, were dutifully allayed when, as a preface to the stalking militancy of show-closer One Day As a Lion, he (ever the protest musician) delivered an impassioned call to action against the transparent scapegoating that is Arizona’s SB1070, lending urgency and gravitas to the issue (“Between now and July 29th, it is fucking on!”). The newly conscripted (and animated) Joey Karam took to the material wholeheartedly, executing with much feel and adding tasty embellishments appropriate to the studio tracks. His status as a permanent member is unknown as of yet.
Sunday’s show was held at the Eagle Rock Center for the Performing Arts, a humble, sunlight-enshrined community space with the semblance of a church for campesinos that welcomed a slightly larger crowd (~150), which included the likes of Tom Morello, Dj Z-Trip, and Ikey Owens, all nodding on approvingly. The inspired threesome played a shortened 6-7 song set that was scant on newer material, but equally as potent. These guys are well-rehearsed, metronomically precise, and playing with overwhelming conviction. If they decide to treat us with a stateside tour after their upcoming Japan dates, a sizable groundswell would likely develop. With Zack’s recent allusions to the possibility of a new RATM record, however, one can only hope that it would still allow for One Day As a Lion’s development. Such auspicious beginnings should be nurtured.
{Gabe Hernandez lives in the celebrity-refuge of Ojai, CA where he agonizes over his writing; he also has a dichotomist appreciation for misogynist rap and chick-flicks.}
Photos Courtesy: James Wall & Erik Denno
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