A band with no singer has to win a room a different way. There is no face to watch, no lyric to lean on, nothing to hang your attention on except whether the groove is good enough to keep you - which makes holding a crowd for an hour close to a magic trick. This Melbourne outfit makes soul-jazz that sounds like it was recorded in 1972 on purpose, warm and a little out of tune the way real tape is, and live it runs considerably funkier than the records let on. Quartyard is a shipping-container lot in East Village with open sky over it, which turns out to be the right ceiling for this music: the horns go up and out instead of bouncing back down at you. Somebody's dog will be there. Six on Sunday on Market Street, around $31. San Diego has a small and stubborn instrumental-soul following, and every one of them knows which taco window is still open afterward.
A band with no singer has to win a room a different way. There is no face to watch, no lyric to lean on, nothing to hang your attention on except whether the groove is good enough to keep you - which makes holding a crowd for an hour close to a magic trick. This Melbourne outfit makes soul-jazz that sounds like it was recorded in 1972 on purpose, warm and a little out of tune the way real tape is, and live it runs considerably funkier than the records let on. Quartyard is a shipping-container lot in East Village with open sky over it, which turns out to be the right ceiling for this music: the horns go up and out instead of bouncing back down at you. Somebody's dog will be there. Six on Sunday on Market Street, around $31. San Diego has a small and stubborn instrumental-soul following, and every one of them knows which taco window is still open afterward.
A band with no singer has to win a room a different way. There is no face to watch, no lyric to lean on, nothing to hang your attention on except whether the groove is good enough to keep you - which makes holding a crowd for an hour close to a magic trick. This Melbourne outfit makes soul-jazz that sounds like it was recorded in 1972 on purpose, warm and a little out of tune the way real tape is, and live it runs considerably funkier than the records let on. Quartyard is a shipping-container lot in East Village with open sky over it, which turns out to be the right ceiling for this music: the horns go up and out instead of bouncing back down at you. Somebody's dog will be there. Six on Sunday on Market Street, around $31. San Diego has a small and stubborn instrumental-soul following, and every one of them knows which taco window is still open afterward.