Quirky show at Linda can’t hide talent
By David Singer
ALBANY — Chandler Travis remains off the wall. Surrounded by the eight members of his Philharmonic at The Linda Saturday night, individually and collectively they looked and acted certifiable. Fortunately, they can play.
Opening with “Everything Can Go Wrong so Easily,” from their new release “Chandler Travis Philharmonic Blows,” blow they did, their horns weaving to a Dixieland feel most of the night, other times blowing boogie woogie, jump or just soft swing.
Dressed like a group you find in a 1950s fun house, wearing crazy hats — and switching their robes and smocks and hats through the night as if they were making real statements here — they mock danced, sang crazy choruses, but played their instruments in earnest (most of the time).
While a night with Chandler’s circus is a fun time there are serious moments, and even somber tunes like the one that Chandler did with drummer Rikki Bates and bassists John Clark, ending with the quiet line “Gonna lose that girl, she was born to disappear,” before fading to silence.
But most of it is fun if not zany, like “Drunk Angry People Shut Up.” He introduced this one
as a piece of scholarship from studying the bar scene; the lyrics were as expected, perfect. Like the lines “If you can’t say something nice, at least don’t say it more than twice,” and the plot twist at the bridge, “drunk happy people let it rip.”
He introduced the instrumental “A Camel Passing through the Eye of a Needle” as new and probably “underdone.” He was wrong. It was a pretty, well-written and under-control composition that the group delivered smoothly. It was one of the more impressively crafted pieces of the night.
“When I hate you, that’s because I love you,” sang Chandler, walking his perfect line of silly and profound during one of the tunes.
They played a ’40s big band swing straight up, the group swinging nicely, sax, trombone and trumpet getting their moments to show their chops.
They slowed things down with a ballad filled with the ironic lines that might serve as their anthem: “cast off your tragic frown … why can’t we stay away from misery,” and the chorus “let yourself off the hook.”
While only a few in the mostly filled Linda danced along the sides, the music certainly made you jump.
He played a few from the new album through the night, like the short but sweet ‘Anne,” about yearning for his neighbor across the street. He followed with Peter Pan’s “Never Never Land” alone with the pianist. He waved some wand while singing, and I can’t even describe what he was wearing on is head, but his singing was wonderful.
They ended with a few fast-moving rock-a-billy kind of tunes and their Dixie tunes, which was their most comfortable work. Not particularly distinguishable tunes, but the strong horns let them close with a bang.
Song after song, despite their best effort to sabotage their own show, they played like kooks. But when you stripped away the nuttiness, the music was refreshing and strong. The nine players could not hide their competence, no matter how hard they tried.