Michigan Boogie

We found ourselves, along with many other music lovers, irresistibly drawn to Detroit's Michigan Palace on Friday, Oct. 4 by the promise of this bill-Little Feat, Taj Mahal, and Weather Report. The trouble we had with the Palace guards tracking down passes for which we'd arranged almost convinced us that this promise would go unrealized. However, after a frustrating 30-minute dance with bureaucracy, we were allowed to enter. I mention this only to illustrate that other major, operational flaw that all of us in attendance endured-that of the crippling sound system mix-seemed pretty consistent with the unprofessional air that pervaded other systems at The Palace.
In fact, Lowell George of Little Feat, the first act, was so bummed by the sound he stopped the music dead after the zinging set opener, "Rock and Roll Doctor", and decided that this was the time to demonstrate to the audience just what a sound check was all about. After a brief pause, the band rolled gamely on.
I've had a soft spot for these burnt cowboys since I first listened to their debut release four years ago, and it was a pleasure to watch them recreate their music live-at least as best they could under the circumstances. Each of the members of Little Feat is a very good musician and every aspect of the ensemble work is commendable. George was the undeniable star-best songwriter and lyricist in the group, he contributed some gritty lead vocals and great slide guitar. Ken Gradney played some strong bass and both Richard Hayward and Sam Clayton, percussion, were funky and inventive during those fleeting moments they were audible. A scant 45 minutes after Little Feat electrocharged the audience with the anarchic energy of "Trip Face Boogie", Taj Mahal was on stage, acoustic guitar in hand. The hometown crowd was feeling pretty oatsy by this time, yelling "Kick Out The Jams" and such. Magical Taj Mahal managed to cool out the openly hostile vibes by the end of tune one, with a soulful sing-along entitled "Satisfied" (I think). He followed this with "Cake-walk Into Town", and then brought on his own six piece band. They ran through a bunch of tunes from Taj's new, heavily reggae-influenced album, Mo' Roots, including "Johnny Too Bad", and "St. Kitts Woman". Taj shined throughout the set, playing variously guitar, violin, mandolin, harmonica, and piano, and moving graceful as a papa lion when he sang. His harp was aiming to blow our brains out on "Mailbox Blues". The whole band was versatile and the arrangements were subtle, pretty, and muscular as any I've heard from a non-jazz ensemble. It was a goddam shame that the whole set was marred, once again, by terrible sound.
Everyone was up and shuffling for another 45 minutes or so while Weather Report was set up. When they walked on stage it was evident that this was what most of the crowd had been waiting for, and Weather Report jumped headfirst into the cosmic crotch and never came up for air. There were clouds of merciless, fishy jazz rock funk  provided mostly by two full-handed drummers, Al Johnson, slick and greasy bass, and the bent, grinning Mr. Dom Um Romao, miscellaneous percussion. On top of this thrashing, 32 carousel colors on changing parts were ours courtesy the synthesizer sorcery of Joe Zawinul. (Wayne Shorter, very sad to relate, seemed close to unnecessary).)
However, the overall effect was stunning, and the abrupt silence that ended Weather Report's set was quickly filled with a solid, standing roar of approval and readiness. There was no encore. Balloons burst. The lights were turned on and people walked through the flowers and the garbage out to their cars. -Bill Adler