By: Ilya Ratner
It was as if Bobby Flay had served me the perfect three-course meal: Edan to start, Cut Chemist as the entrée and Lyrics Born as the funked-up desert. A smile crept onto my face as soon as my buddy drove onto the tracks of an oncoming light rail train. A great beginning to a great night. We’ll call that the appetizer.
No jacket, it was hyperborean. My fingers went numb waiting in line before finally walking into Foundation. A long staircase led to the box office. Crimson drapes hung from the ceiling, obscuring your path down the stairs. It was like a Tales from the Crypt bordello. Edan blasted from a speaker overhead. I didn’t know who he was, but he sounded great. After waiting another 15 minutes in the stairwell we finally entered the club.
Close to the stage, a shot of Stolli warming my blood, I found myself facing a squat Bostonian. His hair was new-wave bed-head. His flow was sauntering and fluid. Edan was like a Carlos Castaneda brujo armed with a pouch of hallucinating hip-hop. He was DJ and emcee, looping revolving beats and spittin’ liquid rhymes. His mic was rigged to echo and every-so-often an emphatic syllable would ripple through the audience.
Out of nowhere his pal Dagha appeared, clapping with lanky arms and swaying sarcastically to guitar and kazoo. Yes, Edan played guitar and kazoo! And if that’s not enough, he brought out a freaking theremin and covered our national anthem. Ohh say, I did not expect to see that. They kept the audience listening with songs like “Colours,” and they kept the ladies smiling when they handed out roses during “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” Together the duo dished an eclectic set, sampling soul, rock, funk and psychodelia.
A few months back Jurassic 5 threw a bash at First Avenue. Cut Chemist was nowhere in sight. He had split off. I remember thinking it was a bad move for both Cut and J5. I hypothesized J5’s devolution into another Black Eyed Peas. I mean they did collaborate with Dave Matthews, and their last album had lost that old school flavor. I didn’t know what Cut would do either. Does straight DJ work pay off? On both accounts I was mistaken. J5 blew up First Ave. and now, months later Cut Chemist would do the same.
Cut’s table was so long he needed an assistant – Igor to Dr. Frankenstein, but without the hump and the wheezing speech. Sweating, he jumped around his set-up, adjusting knobs and dials, and cutting up the break with a flick of the crossfader. From the barimbau samba of “The Garden,” to the tribal booming of “(My 1st) Big Break,” dance was essential. In the least, a half-assed robot or the always entertaining running man. If you weren’t moving, I suggest defibrillators. If you weren’t having fun, go home and read a Dr. Phil book.
This was acoustic alchemy. Cut Chemist, PhD in turntablism, was on fire. The professor sliced and diced like a break-beat samurai. Was this lesson 6? Rolling out songs from his new album, “The Audience is Listening,” he molded assorted flavors into a musical compound. A vile of funk, a splash of samba, and beaker full of hip-hop, and BAM: brilliance. After a lesson in the origins of the beat via bionic arm and turntable, Cut closed the set with fan footage – disassembled, imbued with breakneck style, and thrown on the Bunsen burner.
Just when the heat started wearing off, Lyrics Born and his funky band stepped out –androgynous guitar player and all. It was about 1:20 in the morning… on a Thursday. LB got the crowd moving. But it was time for bed. Only a few bites of dessert and me and my gang of misanthropes were off. With Cut Chemist blasting, this time we made sure to avoid train tracks.
Location Info:
Foundation Nightclub
Artist Info: Cut Chemist, Edan, Lyrics Born
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