Charlottesville - When someone asks me to go see a cover band, I anticipate 1) a trudge down Rugby Road to a frat house, and 2) a plethora of mediocre Sublime covers.  In these expectations I am almost never wrong.  Still, even the most clairvoyant of us have off days, and Friday, June 4 happened to be one of mine.  Jamal Millner and the Comrades – definitely not frat boys, it turns out - blew my cynical formula out of the water.

To my knowledge (and to my relief), the Comrades did not play a single Sublime cover…or did they?  I could have sworn that The Hook promised me a cover band, but each time a new song commenced I had to look around to see if I was the only one wracking my brain for the name of the  original.  The Comrades, with their combined 10,000 years of experience, know  how to rock a cover so well that their audience cannot immediately locate its prototype.  The Clash is and always will be my favorite band, but even I did not recognize "Junco Partner," which the Comrades opened their set with.  Rather than adhere to a verse-chorus-verse structure  favored by composers the world over, the Comrades alternated vocal with instrumental sections - a feat only feasible for very, very good musicians.  Whereas some groups rely on melodic vocals to carry the song, the Comrades pulled off instrumental “verses” without beat ing to death f amiliar, appealing progressions.

Another refreshing departure from the norm: no guitar diva!  Somewhere along the line (I blame Jimi Hendrix), modern music decided to favor the guita r above all other instruments.  Sure, they permitted a drummer, and every now and again, a keyboardist to share the stage, but the rule always seems to go: when in doubt, play a guitar solo!  I happen to be a die-hard bass fan, and lucky for me, so is Jamal Milln er.  Though the Comrades featu red their guitarist on many an occasion, they also managed to showcase their bassist and drummer.  Also, rather than isolate an instrument during its moment in the spotlight, the rest of the group filled in the sound.  All too often I peer up at the stage, perplexed as to why the guitarist has chosen this instance, when his bandmate has a solo, to pound his beer.  Each one of the Comrades remained engaged, and actively so, throughout each and every song.  No on e ever receives accolades for exceptional background music, but that kind of comradery (hehe) nevertheless deserves a small round of applause.  

Having sung the praises of the group as a whole, I must devote this last paragraph to the female vocalist.  Before launching into “I Never Loved a Man,” she demurred, “Only Aretha does Aretha.”  Whatever.  This woman did Aretha better than I have ever seen her done before.  Who says white girls can’t sing soul?  Hillary Fox possesses one of those rare voices that stands apart from her person.  You do not care if she is beautiful or homely, fat or thin, white, black, or purple - she captivates you.  To introduce one song she purred, “I’m going to channel my inner goddess, my lusty goddess.”  I saw a  television show recently in which the population of a whole town falls under the spell of a hedonistic goddess, and everything degenerates into a sensuous bacchanal.  Ms. Fox’s performance that night conjured an eerily similar mood.  Her voice is HUGE, but she controls it without any apparent effort, and she intoxicates her audience with palpable emotion.  A singer myself, I felt humbled - nay, privileged, to see her perform.  The Comrades will impress the hell out of you, but Hillary F ox will take your breath away.

Jamal Millner official website

Jamal Millner on MySpace

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