MYTH: This "swing craze" is phony ... A bunch of kids who wouldn't recognize real jump blues if it kicked them in the crotch have started imitating their grandparents to avoid turning into their parents.

REALITY: When the Brian Setzer Orchestra pulled into town, the kids stayed home. Sponsored by New York's classic rock radio standard bearer, WNEW, this show was definitely intended for mature audiences; the average spectator age was just shy of thirty. Most had your typical midsummer weeknight apparel on; only a few lone weirdos had the Duane Eddy-cum-Morrissey thing going on.

MYTH: The music is canned, novelty nonsense, played by disgruntled punks or clueless hipsters in inexcusably tacky clothing. By the time you read this,they'll probably all have moved on to other fads.

REALITY: Setzer, once the leader of retro-greasers the Stray Cats, has been doing this current routine for almost six years now. His orchestra --featuring three saxophonists, three trombone players, three trumpet players, a drummer, a stand-up bass player, and Setzer's own fluent guitar style -- looks weathered enough to prove that they're not just in this for the moment. Novelty was rampant, however, right from the hard-twanging rendition of the 007 theme that opened the show. The horn section played up the kitsch appeal of the music with holler-response backing vocals and synchronized dance moves,and the clothing was indeed tacky, but not inexcusable. It was all in winking good fun.

MYTH: Go to a nouveau-swing show, and you'll find a floor full of certifiable dancing fools, people endlessly repeating the two-move lindy hop repertoire that they learned from a Gap commercial.

REALITY: The floor was full, and the Orchestra's rendition of "Jump, Jive, n'Wail" (recently popularized by, yes, a Gap commercial) was one of the best received songs of the show, but no one was even attempting to core the apple or do a Texas chainsaw. True to their age, the audience didn't do much more than bop about placidly. When Setzer altered the lyrics to the Stray Cats classic "Rumble in Brighton," singing "There's a rumble in New York tonight," the crowd let up a shout, but stayed in place with sedate irony.

MYTH: The Brian Setzer Orchestra is another tiresome entry in this tiresome swing thing: forgettable, insignificant, and boring.

REALITY: Without question, those words are too harsh to describe the Brian Setzer Orchestra. And whatever else can be said of them, they certainly cover more of the map than any narrow redefinition of Thirties swing. Visually, they were a mix of styles: the band entered in shiny sharkskin jackets, but they were flanked by luau-ready tiki idols. The cheesy grins and the way the drummer mugged and rolled his shoulders like original Spinal Tap drummer Eric "Stumpy" Pepys suggested the weekend-at-the-Hamptons band, but twirling red lights and ominous shadows gave the whole stage a sinister noir look. Fittingly, this was indicative of the performance, an entertaining pastiche of various musical styles all within the vague, retro lounge-y rubric. "Jump,Jive, n' Wail" and "The Dirty Boogie" (the title track from the BSO's new album) both laid claim to the more honest, believable side of nouveau-swing, while "Sleepwalker," an instrumental surf-lullaby, proved that Setzer is still a cat to be reckoned with on the guitar. Just as easily, they shifted into mambo mode for a Latin-flavored cover of the Beatles' "Got To Get You Into My Life."

Indeed, while the Brian Setzer Orchestra is talented and versatile, Setzer himself was the musical centerpiece of the group. Though his voice often had problems -- particularly on the high notes of ballads like "Since I Don't HaveYou" -- it was lean and muscular enough to suit the street savviness that his performance maintained. It was his energy and blazing guitar work, that kept things hot during rave-ups like "The Dirty Boogie," after which he surveyed the crowd and licked his lips before launching into the similarly jumping "(The Legend of) Johnny Kool." Stripped to his muscle-T, classic Gretsch slung low, sweaty and thrashing, Setzer gave a lot more than the calm but appreciative audience seemed to require.

But the high point of the evening was the BSO's take on "Stray Cat Strut," Setzer's old band's theme song. Fueled by nostalgia, the Orchestra gave this song their all, with horns blaring gloriously and Setzer snarling appropriately. It didn't matter that it was a new wave retread of rockabilly done by a big band incorporating swing and myriad random styles. And it didn't matter that it really wasn't all that impressive. It was fun, a night out at a show, and in spite of the myths, it truly moved the crowd. And that's the reality.

NOAH TARNOW

(July 23, 1998)