Richmond - The lovely lady in the black dress was a pearl amidst the sparse crowd, dancing so freely and seductively while Blue Haven secured the audience like a fastball into the catcher’s mitt.  For the first time that night, my friends and I weren’t the only people gyrating to the eclectic waves that crashed before us at the National.  Kim James, of her own Turning Point Productions, put together this event aptly titled “804 On the Rocks.”  It was basically a gumbo of local talents throwing down for their friends and family that purchased tickets in advance.  The crowd was not large, but a personal and vibrant aura surrounded the event instead.  The Canary Promise was the headliner, preceded by the Rift (formerly Caught in the Rift), Jill Montoro, Grinding Stone, and Blue Haven.

As my head repetitively turned from the stage to the dancing “black dressed woman” like a kitten following a sweeping yarn, I felt compelled to speak to her.  Long, dark hair with distinguished facial features - she was older, full of zest, and bold like a fine claret.  She symbolized grace, class, and was increasingly sexy with each burst of motion.  However, just as I was brewing the courage to approach her for a dance between songs, the front man of Blue Haven gave a warm-hearted shout-out to that same very enigmatic femme fatale… his mom.  Oops.  I retreated back to my lonely jig and gave myself a pinch – even wistful drunks must discipline themselves every now and again.

The band we saw upon our arrival was Grinding Stone.  This six-piece bluesy ensemble flushed out any unnecessary toying of their genre and lent us a rather fresh and southern arrangement of rock and roll remedies.  It was traditional in a sense - guitar-strong and satisfying to anyone with an ear for classic rock.  However, their flavor was braised with a jaunty bounce which nicely perpetuated momentum that kept them interesting and set them apart from the average white southern blues band.  It would have been nice to have heard more, but we arrived halfway through their set.  Needless to say, they set a precedent for the evening.

A Jill Montoro project followed.  I’m not clear on what they call themselves.  Now this was interesting.  There was no drummer, a general faux pas where I come from.  Although, in its place was an MPC-2000XL with dude working pads and knobs with one hand while handling his brew in the other.  It geared the band toward a more street-influenced theme, providing dirty drum rhythms and thumping bass to accompany its many synthesized sounds and measures  for Jill to harmonize with.  Jill - a sensual songstress with red hair, clad in a black leather skirt, velvety pumps, and a tight top with a single strap slung over the shoulder - crooned her soulful sugar and moved slowly and lovingly, accepting of all vibes that were offered to her on stage.  She was difficult to turn away from, commanding with her urban elegance.  Her young daughter, maybe four years old, ran up to the stage and waved to her momma.  “I can’t cuss because my daughter is here,” she addressed the crowd, perhaps reminding herself.  Her daughter then began running in circles, like doughnuts in a parking lot, and then vanished back into the crowd behind me.  The band continued on, sometimes with two guitars; one of the fellows with a long scraggly beard alternated between guitar and bass.  To sum it up, their direction was admirable and the singing was sensational, but as much as I dig the MPC and all of its magic, there was still a gaping whole that only a drummer could fill.

Next up was the Rift.  The first thing I noticed before they started was the abundance of stellar guitars they had set up for them.  Full of melody and thick instrumentals, the Rift consumed their set with a mellow, smooth tasting blend of elaborate jams with acoustic and electric guitar, a sax, and drums.  The sax man definitely gave the band the pepper it needed, although that could be stating the obvious.  They were certainly seasoned with experience and c hemistry, but most of their material I found too easy to categorize into the Dave Matthews file, a trait that I wish people would either step away from or make their own.  Not to say they weren’t talented, because their skill kept me in focus the entire set, but I’m constantly looking for a fresh edge, and I believe it is still on the horizon for this band.  The singer has the gift to connect with the crowd through his music, and I’d like to see how he and the Rift progress together.

When Blue Haven arrived, it brought the event to life.  Another large ensemble, I think six players, was comprised of at least two members from the Jill Montoro set, including Jill herself and the bearded rocker now wearing a jester hat.  The jester hat was indubitably relevant, being symbolic of this man’s wild and eccentric stage persona.  He was a treat to peep as he threw himself about the stage, exploring his space and levels, often jumping up and down or crawling around on the ground.  The front man (I believe his name is Noel) strummed his electric guitar furiously, shredded his solos, and projected a suave showmanship.  Suave also accurately describes the bass man in his cool burgundy suit with the blue beret and the braided brother blowing on the trumpet.  The drummer was loud, which was key, and the crowd was now loud (also key).  Jill and Noel shamelessly shared harmonies and vocals, ma king their entire repertoire more addicting with each tune.  The music was fun, it rocked, and I want to see it again.

The night's final act, the Canary Promise, stepped up to bat to move the mass.  The dry-humored lead singer was anything but pompous, often rambling a bit between songs with clever musings about who they are and what they do, a somewhat precursor to the dry and straight-forward rock they indulge in.  Playing with a grungy chip on their shoulder, no holds were barred as the strength of the lead guitarist guided them through the set like they were still utterly pissed  off that Kurt Cobain killed himself.  Spiderman owned the bass with his shaggy long locks flopping around his dome, getting down to the raging rhythms that ensued.  I loved the curt attitude of their rock, but felt they lacked a certain flair.  Je ne sais quoi.  Perhaps no flair is the whole idea behind the act, but again I was searching for something to set this band apart.  However, their altered cover of the Doors’ “Love Me Two Times” was certainly a treat.  They bravely changed the lyrics to “Leave me two times, babe, so maybe I’ll go away.”  I liked it because in my mind I could see Jim himself changing the lyrics on some shitfaced night in ’69, but just the fact that they did the Doors made me a happy guy.

Kim James put together a very fine and eclectic feast for us locals to enjoy.  I only regret that more people weren’t there to enjoy it with us, but maybe now that the word is out her next venture will summon more happy heads to dirty the dance floor.  Blue Haven was definitely my personal highlight, and I sit here scratching my head still wondering why they weren’t the headliner.  I thoroughly enjoyed each band that graced the stage that night,some more than others, but ultimately I walked away from the National in anticipation of my next chance to dance the night away with Blue Haven… and I hope it’s not just a subconscious plea to once again lust after the “black dressed woman.”  Sorry Noel.

By Correspondent: Ben Cokeley

Ben was born in Pittsburgh during the summer of 1983 (the year Roxy Music disbanded).  He has since inhabited Chicago, New York, and several Virginia cities including Richmond, where he prefers to spend the majority of his time.  His interest in music sparked at age three when he began taking piano lessons.  A passion for theatre and film would soon follow; he was known for acting in high school and college productions while focusing on the independent film scene in Richmond.  Nowadays, you're likely to catch him at a bar in the Fan or commuting to Fredericksburg where he works as a high school teacher/behavior specialist.  Ben enjoys a variety of music - some longtime favorite musicians/bands include: Tom Waits, Elvis Costello, the Doors, the Isley Brothers, Buddy Guy, Tom Petty, David Bowie, and George Clinton.

More Featured Articles