Recording soul music so it sounds like it is coming through a wall seems like a mistake until you realize it is the whole appeal — everything smeared, the drums a little behind, a voice that never quite steps forward into the clean spot a producer would want. Hakim made his name doing that and has spent the years since getting stranger rather than cleaner, working with jazz players and hip-hop producers who understand what he is going for. Live, the band pushes it further out than the records; songs dissolve into long passages that are closer to improvisation than to arrangement. It rewards standing still and paying attention. The upstairs hall in Highland Park is a converted Masonic lodge with wood floors and real height to the ceiling, which suits music built on haze. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. The players who circulate through this end of the city all turn up at each other's shows, and this is one of the nights that happens.
Recording soul music so it sounds like it is coming through a wall seems like a mistake until you realize it is the whole appeal — everything smeared, the drums a little behind, a voice that never quite steps forward into the clean spot a producer would want. Hakim made his name doing that and has spent the years since getting stranger rather than cleaner, working with jazz players and hip-hop producers who understand what he is going for. Live, the band pushes it further out than the records; songs dissolve into long passages that are closer to improvisation than to arrangement. It rewards standing still and paying attention. The upstairs hall in Highland Park is a converted Masonic lodge with wood floors and real height to the ceiling, which suits music built on haze. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. The players who circulate through this end of the city all turn up at each other's shows, and this is one of the nights that happens.
Recording soul music so it sounds like it is coming through a wall seems like a mistake until you realize it is the whole appeal — everything smeared, the drums a little behind, a voice that never quite steps forward into the clean spot a producer would want. Hakim made his name doing that and has spent the years since getting stranger rather than cleaner, working with jazz players and hip-hop producers who understand what he is going for. Live, the band pushes it further out than the records; songs dissolve into long passages that are closer to improvisation than to arrangement. It rewards standing still and paying attention. The upstairs hall in Highland Park is a converted Masonic lodge with wood floors and real height to the ceiling, which suits music built on haze. Music at 8:00 PM at 104 N Avenue 56, a Wednesday. The players who circulate through this end of the city all turn up at each other's shows, and this is one of the nights that happens.