Sundance 2009: Music Round-Up

Justin Nozuka

Justin Nozuka is a name that you will be hearing a lot in the coming months. A Canadian of Japanese and American descent who’s still just 19 years old, he comes across as a bizarre blend of Michael Jackson and Jeff Buckley...in a good way. His set at Tatou was a stunner, and certainly a harbinger of great things to come. Nozuka has a gift of being sensitive without cloying, pleading without whining. His vocals have a beautifully immediate quality; there’s no artifice to be heard. Every now and then you don’t have to choose between the guy with the stunning talent and the guy who can give you a platinum hit. Nozuka is both, and as close to a sure bet as there is in the music industry. See him now in the club before you can only see him in the arena. Recommended listening: "Golden Train."

Cee-Lo

Cee-Lo is best known these days as the vocal half of Gnarls Barkley, thanks to the inescapable 2006 single “Crazy” and a pair of hit albums. But he released a couple of truly brilliant solo albums in his own right, and of course before that was a driving force in the seminal hip-hop group Goodie Mob. His show at Harry O’s was somewhat hampered by his having to use Big Boi’s band (and by his not being able to rehearse with them until that afternoon), but his talent and charm are undeniable, carrying the set. The aforementioned “I’ll Be Around” was a highlight, with one of the funkiest hooks in recent years and one of the greatest opening couplets in hip-hop history ("How can I possibly be inconspicuous / When my flow is fuckin' ridiculous?").

David Ryan Harris

David Ryan Harris may just be the country’s greatest performer who’s not a household name. The voice, the songwriting, the guitar playing: he’s a three-pronged threat to be sure, and excels at all three. John Mayer knows enough to take him out on tour whenever he can. Watching Harris build an entire song (percussion, bass, rhythm guitars, and lead guitars) with just his guitar and a delay pedal, then adding his own inimitable vocals to the mix, is something magical. His show at Tatou was an acoustic one and didn’t feature such theatrics, but the setting was a perfect one for his warm, soulful vocals to shine. “America the Beautiful” was a real highlight; I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it so lovely.

Big Boi

Big Boi’s set (also at Harry O’s) was easily the best of an outstanding group all week long. You’d think that, given the magical chemistry between Big Boi and Andre 3000 in Outkast, that the stage show might suffer with only half the team present. Not true. First of all, Big Boi has found a worthy foil in Black Owned C-Bone, a fellow Atlantan who fills in masterfully. Part of the effect is visual: C-Bone is tall and lanky and strolls the stage with a Snoop Dogg-like swagger, while Big Boi is shorter, stockier, and is constantly walking in a ninja crouch, gesticulating powerfully with his hands. C-Bone holds his own in the flow as well, and should end up being a star in his own right. But Big Boi is a force of nature on stage. His staccato delivery never flagged, was always perfectly in time and stunningly effectively accented. He even sounded great doing many of Andre’s parts. With all due respect to Andre, who is one of the greatest in hip-hop history, Big Boi comes close to that kind of genius.

The Cult

Sometimes you spend years waiting for something, then you turn around and see that it's popped up out of nowhere, right in front of you. Of all the bands I regretted having never seen, The Cult was very near the top of the list. For one thing, no one else sounds like them: that crazy blend of rock, metal and goth. They also play music that always seemed to me to be perfectly suited to a live venue, and especially to the sense of Dionysian craziness that can grip a rock crowd in those magical, inspired moments.

So when I rounded a corner only to come face to face with The Cult doing a soundcheck, my knees actually buckled. Ian Astbury was singing 20 feet away from me, and I was one of a dozen people in the room. I sat mesmerized and watched, feeling like a kid again. It was like being turned loose in Disneyland after hours.

The show was a wonder as well. The drums still thundered, the guitars still screamed and strutted, and the vocals still wailed. Well, kind of wailed. Astbury's crazy-brilliant voice isn't all it once was. But Billy Duffy's guitar just blew the top off the place. I think he's better now than he was then, and his eerie-yet-rocking riffs and powerful solos were a thing of beauty on this night. It really was like being 18 again.

Nas

Nas occupies a strange place in the annals of hip-hop. Even casual fans know his name and a few songs, but it’s generally only the hardcore fans that put him in his rightful place in the pantheon of the five or six greatest MC’s of all time. And you get the feeling Nas is okay with that; he’s making records for the informed, not for the masses. His show at Harry O’s had all the majesty and mystery that an appearance by a legend should have; no one left that venue feeling they’d seen just another good hip-hop act. The highlight was the murky “One Mic,” when Nas’ quiet intensity on the verses led to the fist-pumping power of the chorus. Nas may have had a few missteps since Illmatic, but as his set showed, the number of bullseyes he’s hit is stunning.