Advertisement
Sound Tribe Sector 9 thrive upon the energy of self-imposed contradiction. Combining the opposing motives of repetition and improvisation, the band rejects simple classification -- developing within the jam-band scene, but aiming to win over club kids. Connecting grooves drawn from rock, funk, disco and jazz, the sound builds atop rave-like beats.
The result is an electro-organic sonic stew whose base recipe calls for equal measurements of its five main ingredients: the machine-like precision of drummer Zach Velmer and rhythmic anchoring of bassist David Murphy, the textured overlaps of percussionist Jeffree Lerner, and the vibe defining jazz-funk flip-flops of guitarist Hunter Brown and keyboardist David Phipps. The complex quintet's approach defies traditional rock structures -- eschewing hooks, vocals, and solos. Rather, it concentrates on the establishment and manipulation of atmosphere.
Friday evening at the World, centered in the commercial chaos of New York City's Times Square, the members of Sector 9 had their work cut out for them. Best known for hosting wrestling events like WWE's "SmackDown!" the club's chain-link decor offered all the warmth of a prison surveillance room, with almost as many televisions.
In the concert setting and on record Sector 9's explorations have a tendency to come off like cinematic scores. The actual movie, it turns out, is best left to the fans' imagination. Blissfully oblivious dance-floor inhabitants were spared the venue's choice of footage. Those in the periphery were not so lucky. Featuring, among other oddities, the mass slaughter of baby chicks, the images hardly jibed with the band's deliberate attempts to exude and induce good times. Eventually (and only upon the band manager's complaint) the screens displayed more appropriately abstract, though similarly distracting, visual content.
Awash in aggressive lighting and monitor spillover, Sound Tribe Sector 9 could not benefit from their surroundings, but nevertheless plied their free-form messages of peace and positivity via a mesmerizing, dance-inducing series of gradual instrumental build-ups, climaxes and releases, giving only momentary pause in between to indicate the end of one song before embarking on the next.
The band was joined by tabla player/producer Karsh Kale for "Mischief of a Sleepwalker," the final song of a sixty-minute opening set. He returned for most of the ninety-minute follow-up, adding a complementary world music vibe to the already motley influential mix. Kale's contribution was even further augmented during the second set when Vishal Vaid provided exotic Indian vocal wails to the opening number, "Baraka."
The show, which began at 11:24 p.m. and ended after 2:30 a.m., rightly mimicked club culture timing, but rejected DJ-style constant BPM assaults. Sector 9's unostentatious stage stance and the subtlety of their calmer interludes at times seem to affect the group's overall potency, particularly in the later hours. The music therefore is vulnerable to audience distraction. Sector 9 are quite adept at luring wanderers back by going full-force. But the real challenge, and even an ego-less band needs one every now and then, is making even silence vital.
ROBIN A. ROTHMAN
(September 17, 2002)