Kansas City Blog

Rude douchebags sitting at the bar gab away through opener Sal Retta's enchanting set. The pint-sized brunette gets on stage, picks up her classical guitar, says a few words in what sounds like French, announces the name of her first song as "Carousel," then spins into a Segovian fingerstyle flurry, bouncing on her heels and nodding her head as she unleashes wave upon wave of elegant, moody arpeggios. It's one thing to learn a classical-style guitar song -- it's a whole other thing to write one.

Sal continues to impress throughout her set (and the idiots at the bar continue to talk and laugh like donkeys). Laying aside the nylon string and switching between a couple of hollowbody electrics, Sal moves into a jazzier, bluesier and loungier realm, playing original songs that could soundtrack a garden party in Paris. Her voice is an ultra-bright warble -- in fact, the only time the crowd quiets down a bit is when she finally opens her mouth on her third song and lets out a call from the back of her throat that sounds almost like a muted trumpet playing a high note. Her voice is rich and strange, and so is her music, especially as she keeps getting outrageously good at guitar. This young bird is really something.

Up next, the Jen Say Kwahs come out with a sound that fits well with the name -- hard to describe. It's orderly music, with all parts laid out like silverware at an expensive restaurant. The Kwahs make use of sparse, postpunk rhythms, classic rock guitar hooks (think a more sedate Santana), and Beatles melodies and harmonies, coming up something akin to a lo-fi, guitar-oriented Death Cab for Cutie. The blend is interesting but at times a little too laidback and meek to hold the listener's attention in a live setting. It's cool, though, to see a band that is experimental and flexible in its songwriting and instrumentation without sacrificing melody or pop sensibility. No gimmicks, either, apart from the drummer's Indian chief headdress, if that can be considered a gimmick. We'll ask him when the Jen Say Kwahs play our showcase this Thursday night, 10 p.m. at McCoy's.

Now, the marquee attraction: Richard Lloyd's Sufimonkey Trio, comprising bassist Keith Hartel and original Television drummer Bill Ficca, is a righteous-jamming rock trio that allows its leader both to play solos 'til his heart's content and also step up as lead singer. Lloyd is an old pro. The guy doesn't just "know" rock guitar; it's practically -- to risk sounding earthy -- a bodily function.

Playing mostly songs from the Sufimonkey Trio's new album, Radiant Monkey, the group sounds a far cry from the sparse, deliberate, dual-guitar interplay Lloyd achieved with Television lead singer and co-guitarist Tom Verlaine. Lloyd is a rumbling, jamming beast, providing possibly a little too much GUITAR for fans of reserved, tasteful rock and pop to handle. Those who stick around through the opening salvo, which includes thundering and funky original song "Monkey" (MP3), are treated to staggeringly loud and awesome covers of Television classics "Friction" and "Elevation." I had only ever heard those songs on record, where they sound stripped and spare, every note in perfect relief and nothing out of control. But live, as soon as Lloyd rattles off that first descending lick of "Friction," and the bass and drums begin galloping and he snarls, "I knew it must've been some big set-up," you know you're about to get your head snapped back. Same case with "Elevation," a steady, melancholic song on record turned into a wild romp live. Lloyd savors every word of the choppy, freaky chorus chant, Elevation, don't go to my head, but still lets his guitar do most of the talking.

Live: "Friction"

As promised, the Trio plays a few Hendrix songs, including "Purple Haze" and "Bold as Love" segueing into "Are You Experienced?" Lloyd is currently working on a whole album of Hendrix covers. Hopefully, for that, he'll stick to the more obscure stuff, because, really, who needs to hear any more covers of "Purple Haze," "Crosstown Traffic," "Manic Depression," etc? But as the set ends with the psychedelic guitar yowl of "Are You Experienced?" and the small crowd staggers into the night, their heads having been pummeled with an hour of pristine rock guitar wailing, no one feels the need to gripe that it was too much.

Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: I only own the one album, but I nonetheless need to listen to "Marquee Moon" at least once a week or my soul gets sore and jaded. Also, I like guitar.
By the Way: There was another opener that night, a jam band calledRutherford. I only caught a couple of their jammy blues jammy rock jammy funk jams. Their bass player looks like John Malkovich.