The Pearl is open and the outdoor patio was thumping on an unexpectedly sundrenched Friday afternoon after Josh & Friends posted up against the beautiful Wellfleet Harbor backdrop for a couple hours.
It was shoulder to shoulder on the patio, a server had to shout her way through the crowd with a loaded tray, and the shucker was, in fact, ON ONE - dancing his face off, behind the his station but was not afraid to let the spirit possess him when he’d hop onto the floor and pull whoever was game to shake and bop with him.
As anybody who spends any time going to see even the smallest sample set of live music out here by the rotary will tell you: when Josh is surrounded by a collection of talent you are in for some true grooves. Listen closely, there will be top shelf indicators.
Goin' Down The Road Feelin' Bad
This one fits nicely into a first set (which is also a nod to the artillery they’ll keep loaded for subsequent trips to the stage). Like Usher’s Birkenstocks, this one's easy to slip into … ample blues to turn inside out and backwards, when it shows up in the first 30 mins of a show, it’ll usually pull some people who’re sitting up to their feet to get their swivel on. This Friday was no different - all spinners report to the front.
Franklin’s Tower
The crown jewel in one of their live sets. This is a pure spiritual descendant of the original and, not only does it get just about everybody in the room singing along, dancing along, or pulling out phones, it taps the musicians on stage to lean all the way the fuck in. George on lead vocals drives the volume, Brad, back there on a mini kit, crafting goth chapels out of popsicle sticks and paperclips, and Josh using the neck of his acoustic like some black throated hippy Leonard Bernstein.
Mark Usher had a field day. Channeling his inner Drew Bledsoe, he stood statue-still and proceeded to rip through not only the Tower solo but one another that blew the wigs back off of anybody within earshot. I saw joggers through the screen who pulled second or third takes. Apologies to Usher here but just more reason to get yourself out there and see for yourself. He doesn’t disappoint.
Another highlight was drummer Brad Conant and the unknown (to me) bass player finding a wave for the rhythm section to ride alone. Brad’s a talent of De Stijl proportions who will walk off stage and into the sunlight after playing a Levon Helm standard and take up with an orchestra before nightfall. He and his bass counterpart teased a breakdown I was perked up and ready for. Gimme a Moby Dick inspired rendition of that, kind sirs.
As anybody who’s seen Josh solo a time or two will tell you, he’s got a heater in the arsenal called Sanctuary; it’s an original that he usually harbors until late into the second set before growling it out. Worth mentioning here because he’s been busy lately and saw fit to break out a new, as yet unreleased, track for us all to sink into. As much as it’s worth shining a light on the blues jams, the ‘stand up and throw your hair around’ dance tracks, the emotional tear that comes when he closes a show with The Weight, it’s with the originals that you can see the pure talent come through.
Yes, the blues, country, and maybe even pop and soul influences are there, but the songwriting, the command over the changes, the seemingly simple understanding of structure and how to lay the audience back comfortably to tell them his story, in his voice & style … his busted-nail-because-he-doesn’t-use-a-pick fingerprints are smeared all over the track, his character emerges in those moments, when it’s easiest to glimpse that you’re not only watching a fun bar band pull some meat from the cover-song bone but likely watching a real original take shape right there on the deck between the boats and the booze.
I Shall Be Released
To put a point on it, one of the finer moments of the afternoon was a song the Friends played for the recently lost Bruce Maclean. The first and the last time Josh & Bruce played together, they played this classic by Dylan and The Band and Josh dusted it off for the folks on the patio at the Pearl.
Hearing George's take on Garth Hudson's unmistakable lines was really something. Wrapping up a verse, Josh gave the keys player a hand signal and, in swift, second nature burst, George dialed, twisted, and pedal adjusted his rig before diving into those so-distinct chords and riffs in between. George can hit the Brent Mydland 80s Dead right between the eyes, it can be striking if you're at the bar with your back to the stage - he's really dialed it in but ... this turn he took around Garth's arrangement was a chef's kiss all by itself.
The fact that it’s this song, with meaning and symbolism so clear it sits up in front of you like olive oil in a pot of water, that binds these two friends is a fine wink the fates gave them both. To hear Josh play it in this context was endearing, a most earned emotion. We’ll include a busted down recording of it here to hold you over until you can get yourself to a show - cross your fingers you’ll Be Released.
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