Concert Review by Kris Griffiths
The Shepherd’s Bush Empire, London – 11 February 2003
There is a scene towards the end of NAKED GUN 2 ½ where Frank Drebin and his sidekicks disguise themselves as a Mexican mariarchi band to get into a presidential dinner speech, but while sneaking across the stage behind the curtain it is suddenly raised, leaving them spotlighted in front of a baffled audience. After an awkward pause, however, Drebin casually breaks into a masterful Spanish guitar solo and Nordberg steps in with some skilled trumpet harmonies. This is the image that fills my head upon entering the venue and first seeing Calexico flexing their Mexican muscles.
For those not acquainted, Calexico don’t actually hail from Mexico but from nearby Tucson, Arizona, and they named themselves after a town on the Californian border. They’re not so much a conventional band as a posse of musicians formed around multi-instrumentalists John Convertino and Joey Burns, and they’ve been acclaimed everywhere from Shepherd’s Bush to San Antonio. The Empire tonight is sold out and stuffed with punters of the older variety, a testament to the fact that over commercial marketability, talent goes a long way.
This lot are a talented bunch indeed, with more instruments onstage than you could shake a burrito at. Their music, in a technical sense, may be loosely defined as alt-country meets mariarchi. To the ear, it evokes swinging saloon doors, swirling sand dunes and sexy Spanish seňoritas. Tonight they serve up selections from new album FEAST OF WIRE which, to fans is indeed a feast, but to neutrals like myself is more like a very light meal. With John in charge of percussion, deft but soft, and Joey’s vocals as lightweight as wafted tumbleweed, the live performance mirrors the recorded material in its pervading slightness and lack of strength.
This isn’t to detract from the musical mastery clearly on display, it’s just that for two hours the crowd stands mute and motionless as the ensemble ahead plays musical instruments (as in musical chairs), switching incessantly from brass to maracas to keyboard to accordion. After CLOSE BEHIND and GUERO CANELO, there are only so many instrumentals I can enjoy before drifting into ennui and imagining myself slumped in a tequila-soaked stupor at a tapas bar, listening contentedly to the background music. The new single, interestingly titled NOT EVEN STEVIE NICKS, is the only track thereafter that pricks my ears.
Bands like Calexico are classic cases of the inverse relationship between talent and image. Oasis, for example, with their basic chords and catchy chorus formula, compensate for their lack of musicianship through the swaggering attitude and image they pull off so well. On the other hand we have the expert mini orchestra that is Calexico, fronted by a balding pedal steel player and a singer sporting a classy red and white lumberjack shirt. Collectively they exude all the image and attitude of a bunch of monks at a churchyard féte.
Tonight another strange inverse relationship is manifested: the consistently quiet crowd are treated to not one, but two lengthy encores (Oasis for a long time refused to do encores, no matter how ‘mad-for-it’ their fans are). Despite putting his foot in it with an impassioned cry of “Thank you Shepherd’s Empire!” Joey appears satisfied with the melodic feast his boys have dished up, almost as much as the full-to-bursting fans. All Calexico need now is an image overhaul and they could be bigger than, er, Taco Bell.
