The Chandler Travis Philharmonic, Pete LaBonne
Union College, Thurs. Sept 27, 2001
by David Greenberger
When Chandler Travis singled me out and had me stand up at last Thursday’s Union College show I feared I would need to disqualify myself from reviewing the show. The reason for him calling attention to me was because, knowing I was there, he included in the show two songs for which I wrote lyrics. I’ve been seeing Chandler perform in his various bands for nearly two dozen years, a linked set of circumstances which led to a friendship. Having consulted various ethical compasses, I’ve been assured that as long as I divulge what I just did and make no further mention of those two songs, I stand no risk of arrest or imprisonment. On with the review!
If you are reading this review, your chance of being at the show to see the Chandler Travis Philharmonic was approximately one in 4,200.* So, I can say with some mathematical certainty that nearly all of you missed one of the best shows of the year to occur in the capital district. To lend some credence and objectivity to that assertion, just ask any of the other twenty-three people who were there.**
Since the mid-nineties, Travis, first as an adjunct to The Incredible Casuals, and now as his primary musical outlet, has been presenting his music with the eight-piece Philharmonic (give or take a player or two). Standing center as guitarist and singer, he’s flanked by Dinty Child to his right, on accordion and mandocello and to his left by the three horn players (dubbed the June Trailer Dancers). All of these frontline musicians also serve as gung ho foils or fully committed co-conspiritors joining in on choruses. Behind them were keyboard player Keith Spring, drummer Rikki Bates and Dave Zox on string bass. The entire lot were dressed with a casual exuberance that belied a purposefulness of sartorial intent, which was completely consistent with the show itself — a talented group of highly skilled professionals flawlessly playing music that seemed free and spontaneously created. Trumpet player Keiichi Hashimoto spent the first half of the show in an afro wig, then switching to what appeared to be the headpiece of a bunny costume — a sort of bonnet with long droopy ears. Both of these approaches managed to make him seem oddly regal. Of course, he’s also an astounding player, using the ambiance of the room to blow gorgeous solos up to the rafters.
The not-so-secret ingredient to this troupe is the uniformly high caliber of the players. Travis’s material and whole musical outlook offers an oasis to musicians who in other circumstances end up just punching the musical gig clock. He draws upon a range of players, all of whom are eager to sign on if they’re available. They’re clearly not getting rich from this, but they’re getting the magic of the unexpected as the night’s music rolls out of itself, for band and audience alike. Travis is an engagingly comedic presence, with his between song patter vacillating between surrealistically tilted joking and faux-Vegasisms. His songs run the gamut from the stirring fragility of “Got To Let Go Sometime” to the catchy sing along of “Chander Travis, King of the World.”
What made the set such such a compelling whole was the unswerving commitment of all eight members. There was never a moment when one of the horn players — who, as happens with horn sections, spent more time *not* playing than playing — seemed anything less than fully amazed and delighted to be a part of every single moment. They were right to feel that way for this is rare and engaging music, drawing on Dixieland, Tin Pan Alley, ska, The Kinks, and much more.
Opener Pete LaBonne lives up near Lake Luzerne, recording fractured and bluesy ditties in a dirt floor cabin. His set drew from his CD, Meditation Garden, offering these one-man band productions up in the spare setting of just him and his guitar. He pulled the room into a studied quiet which was rewarded time and again with lines like “Even Jesus hates her.” This was the blues turned inside-out and tied up with a fraying ribbon.
– David Greenberger
* Based on twenty-four audience members in attendance, and an estimated *Metroland* readership of 100,000.
** I have some of their names and, if compelled to do so, could get signed statements from them attesting to the high caliber of the performance.