Mose Allison Concert Review by Christopher McHale

Concert Review by Christopher McHale

Mose Allison concert review photo 2 Like the big river itself, Mose Allison effortlessly flowed through the grooves and vibes of our American soul, seasoned by the Mississippi tides and Delta blues. A long ride, a fifty-year journey of jazzy riffs stitched with a smooth, understated voice. Steadily ascending to status of legend, Mose Allison became an icon, one of our national treasures. Friday night at the Jazz Standard, the jazz aficionado’s destination on 27^th Street in New York City, the Mose Allison Trio settled in for a patented set of no fuss blues.

Mose Allison weaved his set list from whole cloth, as one tune flowed into another and the artist let the songs speaks for themselves. Only the presence of someone else’s work required a comment, otherwise he moved from song to song, his piano as economical as his lyric, his voice and instrument fused into a single tale, cynical, hopeful, observant, wry, witty and straight forward. Mose Allison’s authentic American character clearly came through.

Perhaps years ago, Allison’s voice was stronger and punchier, but it did not matter, because what mattered most, was Allison’s pursuit of the essence of his songs and the honesty of his delivery. The quintessential performer, he was up on stage, working the songs, on another night in a lifetime of gigs. Mose Allison has always showed up and he has always delivered. Artists as diverse as The Who, The Clash, The Pixies and Elvis Costello have all counted Allison as a major influence, yet when asked why he never became a superstar, Allison simply said, “Lucky, I guess.”

Popping accents on drums supplied by Tom Whaley, adventurous and strong bass lines by Ratzo Harris, the Mose Allison Trio did not waste any time, as they opened with three confident solos, drum to bass to piano, before Allison finally swung the microphone into place. With the quality of a muted horn, his voice was contained and focused, a distinct tone, a bluesy edge to the vowels, certain words held, phrased just so, until the meaning of the lyric washed over the room and drove the point home.

“I Don’t Want Much,” opened the set, “I’m so easy going, I don’t keep score,” Allison sang, and the soft style witnessed the truth of it. He followed with the old Charles Brown hit, “Fool’s Paradise,” then segued quickly into his own, “Look What You Made Me Do.” As the lyrics passed it became apparent they remained relevant, even though some of the songs were more than thirty years old. “Everybody's crying peace on earth, just as soon as we win this war,’ Allison sang, from his song, “Everybody’s Crying Mercy.” The tune “Wild Man On The Loose,” the title track from his mid-sixties release, illustrated how the artist had evolved, more playful now than years ago, more laid back, the voice edged in wistful irony as he worked through the words. Mose Allison concert review photo 1

The breathless pace of the set kept listeners from settling into any particular song or mood. A tour guide of rapid fire bursts of observations, considerations, situations, faults, sins, downfalls and triumphs, Allison introduced us to an engaging parade of passing characters. “How does it feel to be so good looking,” “The good get better and the bad get worse, hello there, universe,” “Your mind is on vacation and your mouth is working overtime,” “If you must keep talking, please, try to make it rhyme.”

Whaley’s drums locked into Allison’s strong and fluid tempos, while Harris took every opportunity to explore double stops, comping chords with a pulsing right-handed strum, arpeggios evolving into abstractions of melodies hammered down on the ebony neck of his bass. Mose Allison’s piano style is firmly rooted in New Orleans stride, Delta blues, fully exposed to contemporary jazz harmonizations and pop music sensibilities. Intellectual and accessible, challenging, but not intimidating, eighty-four year old Allison has honed his piano chops to a specific and resonant essence.

Every Mose Allison show should feature the Willie Dixon classic, “Seventh Son.” In the early seventies, Allison’s version of the tune became a hallmark, introducing him to an entire new generation of fans. At the Jazz Standard, he delivered the tune with an easy lilt, the abiding mystery of the lyric set against a breezy, whimsical interpretation. What do the words mean? What does it matter? Hearing Mose Allison’s delivery was all we needed to understand the tune.

In 2009, with singer-songwriter Joe White filling the producer’s chair, Allison returned to the studio to record a new CD, Way of The World. Allison chose to close the set at the Jazz Standard with a tune from the disc, “My Brain,” a rewrite of another Willie Dixon song, “My Babe” (which in turn was a rewrite of the gospel staple, “This Train.”). “My brain is losing power,” Mose Allison sang. “No!” shouted somebody from the audience. An evening with Mose Allison was a gift that no one wanted to end, but in typical Allison fashion, he quickly twisted the lyric. “1200 neurons every hour.” The audience laughed. “My brain it's getting pounded, pretty soon I'll be dumbfounded, my brain, cool little cluster, that's my brain.”

The entire set at the Jazz Standard became one cool cluster of words, riffs, winks, sighs, laughs, nods, revelations and just plain outright fun; sixteen songs, one after another, a night with a master performer, who is part of our history, part of our culture and part of our soul.