Even greats bands have off nights.
That was the case Saturday at the Capitol Theatre when Los Lobos — beset by annoying, but by no means catastrophic, technical glitches — played a set filled with fits and starts that never found its groove. If there was any question about the six-piece group’s level of engagement, the answer came when they played one encore — a sloppy but endearing version of Neil Young’s “Cinnamon Girl” — and left the stage after a mere hour and 15 minutes. Not quite a cheat, but far from generous, and far from their usual.
Los Lobos, the not-quite-legends from East L.A. who are celebrating (is that the correct term?) their 45th year, are an unequivocally great band. Their set list changes from night to night, and on this night, they were feeling folky. The four original members — David Hidalgo, Louie Perez, Cesar Rosas and Conrad Lozano — took the stage and donned acoustic guitars of various size (including bassist Lozano on the plump guitarrón) and delved into a traditional Mexican tune. Then another. Then a Colombian tune.
At first, this focus on acoustic, Spanish-language songs, with the band members sawing away on their guitars, seemed to say: We are a veteran outfit confident that our fans (it was a packed house) are with us in whatever musical direction we decide. They miscalculated.
After the sixth such tune, it was clear the crowd was getting antsy. The applause steadily diminished and people started hollering out requests for more familiar fare. “You want rock ’n’ roll?” Rosas asked, as much an admonishment as a query. Then they played another Tex-Mex number. After a clumsy version “La Pistola y El Corazon,” Hidalgo quipped, “as a rule, that song is beautiful.”
In all, 35 minutes elapsed before Hidalgo and Rosas strapped on their Stratocasters and Los Lobos relented to rock. Hidalgo’s gorgeous, lyrical solo over the sultry “The Valley” seemed to right the ship. But feedback and low-end hum plagued the sound. A tech kept darting onto the stage to adjust Steve Berlin’s keyboard. The band members conducted on-stage discussions between songs. Los Lobos appeared chagrined, then frustrated, then resigned to falling short.
Even amid such an erratic show, the band delivered some ecstatic moments. Rosas’ “Set Me Free (Rosa Lee)” splintered the ceiling. Berlin laid down some fiery, committed solos on baritone sax. But Hidalgo, an under-appreciated guitar ace, appeared largely disinterested. Usually a sweet-toned, soulful singer, his vocals were half-hearted and more frequently out of tune than I’ve ever heard in the several times I’ve seen the act (dating back to the late ‘80s).
You could sense it was bye-bye time when Los Lobos played its shopworn medley “La Bamba”-into-“Good Lovin’-back to “La Bamba.”
About midway through the show, Rosas joked, “We’re going to be turning pro pretty soon” — a lighthearted admission that it wasn’t Los Lobos’ night, but not much of a consolation for fans who didn’t quite get what they paid for.
Los Lobos’ seat-of-your-pants approach to making live music, a dying art on concert stages, is one of the things that keeps rock ’n’ roll vital. But as we witnessed Saturday — or at least I did — it doesn’t always work out.
I usually time my arrivals at concerts to miss uncredited opening acts. Think of it as a veteran critic’s prerogative. I’m pleased I showed up on time Saturday night, though, or I would have missed a fun, quirky and musically satisfying 30-minute set by Someday Honey, a fairly new band based in St. Pete. The quartet is fronted by effervescent singer-guitarist Kaleigh Baker, whose powerful voice calls to mind Janis Joplin, but rangier, and with less rasp and ravage.
The group stirred together Appalachian country, blues, hints of gospel and a predilection for Tom Waits, earning a standing ovation from a good portion of the crowd — myself included. The three guys in the band chipped in rough-hewn harmonies, full-bodied acoustic bass, solid drumming, and playfully idiosyncratic guitar work. Someday Honey’s rootsy reworking of Waits’ “Jockey Full of Bourbon” induced knowing grins. They followed up with a whimsical original titled “What Would Tom Waits Do?,” before which Baker quipped, “What can I say? We like him.”
Further, Baker went beyond the call of duty cheerleading for the headliners; her exhortations about Lobos’ impending set came off as genuine and endearing. (Were the grizzled veterans listening backstage?)
Above all, Someday Honey oozed pure joy at being on a real concert stage in front of 750 people.
After the show, chatting on the sidewalk, Baker said the band turned down a regular gig for the Capitol Theatre opportunity. Someday Honey performs about once a month at the Ale and the Witch downtown, she told me. I’ll be taking them in soon.
This article appears in Feb 14-21, 2019.
