In most of the United States, jam bands have a fairly bad reputation. Mention to someone that you dig on the String Cheese Incident or Phish outside of college campuses, the West Coast and a few isolated, enlightened towns across the country and you will likely be branded as “one of those fuckin’ hippies who is afraid of soap.”
Although the many bearded devotees of the jam band circuit embrace these assumptions with open, fragrant arms, the unfortunate fact is that these stereotypes, deserved or not, drastically overshadow the real reason that people are drawn to the festival scene: to hear creative and intelligent music. Specifically, it’s music that does not conform to verse-chorus-verse song structure. And the artists who make it are only scared of short set-lists, predictable rhythms and the hacky-sack falling into a puddle.
Famous electronic jam-nistas Sound Tribe Sector 9 are Santa Cruz’s most notable contribution to trustafarian well-being since being named the number one pothead city in the country by Rolling Stone. And this weekend they are bringing back the good name of the acid generation with two back-to-back shows at the Roseland.
Conceived in Atlanta, Ga., in the late ’90s and reborn in Northern California as the bastard crack-child of Miles Davis and DJ Shadow, Sound Tribe Sector 9 (STS9 being the preferred nomenclature of aficionados) are not your average funky jam-band. OK, fine, they are.
But it wouldn’t be entirely prudent to define them as such. Almost completely instrumental, heavily electronic and decidedly mandolin-less, they are much more like distant cousins to bands like Yonder Mountain String Band than musical siblings; they just oddly happen to have all the same friends and fans.
A five-piece band that has been known to share the stage with many a guest musician, STS9 is superb at merging rocking out with geeking out: Everyone in the group but the drummer boasts of playing “the laptop” in addition to their practical repertoire of traditional guitar, bass and the omni-powerful midi synthesizer.
Conscious is as conscious does, and as cliché as it sounds, Sound Tribe Sector 9 must be proud of the fact that they are doing more than their fair share of saving the world. Exerting hypnotic, bongo-driven influence over their enthusiastic flower-power fan base, they use their grassroots popularity to bring attention to a number of righteous charitable causes.
This time around, STS9 is partnering with an organization called the Conscious Alliance, and collecting organic food and school supplies for the poor. Calling this tour “Art that Feeds People,” tribe-heads that bring 10 cans of non-perishable food to the concert will get a limited-edition poster and a night of über space-music to supplement the endorphin rush of giving to a charity that doesn’t suck. If the OSPIRG guys on campus could work something this entertaining into their hyena-speech, then maybe there’d be a whole lot fewer people panicking to pretend to be on their cell phone whenever they see a light blue shirt and a clipboard.
Sound Tribe Sector 9 uses a highly unorthodox methodology in the way they construct songs, but they are careful not to alienate people. Not experimental in a self-indulgent, ear-plug-purchasing way, like Animal Collective, and way too upbeat to be compared to Sigur Rós, STS9’s innovation lies in the clever way they employ the rhythm section to do what has traditionally been considered the job of the melody in our society.
Most popular songs begin their life as a simple harmony written for guitar or piano, and the poor percussionists are often left straddling the vision of the songwriter. Many Sound Tribe songs forsake this approach altogether, favoring instead a democratic, drum-driven oligarchy, replete with fast, oft-changing beats that serve as graceful shepherds to the inevitable poly-rhythmic climax. When done correctly, it can be danced to in numerous ways. Typically, their audiences seem to prefer the dance that looks like a large number of octopi gyrating under the influence of codeine cough syrup, instead of the traditional ’60s folk fest smile-and-nod, but the music is equally supportive of both.
It is not exactly a secret that for the big hippie music festivals, hanging out in the parking lot of the venue can often be just as entertaining as the concert itself. The staging grounds for some of the bigger names in free-form music can transform into a veritable patchouli-scented Mall of America once the sun goes down, complete with young progressive capitalists happy to sell you everything from high-quality lysergic acid to recycled organic vegan burritos.
Though STS9 are playing at the Roseland on Burnside, Portland’s wackest venue, you are bound to meet some interesting cats waiting for the show, and the people-watching alone can be a rewarding alternative for those of us who choose not to spend our night focusing dinner plate-sized pupils on STS9’s famous teleological light show.
Go ahead and say what you will about their politics or their lifestyle, but all the dead-head jokes in the world can’t diminish the good in the overwhelming sense of social reciprocity that you will encounter the further you immerse yourself in jam culture. More often than not, the price of a ticket will get you many hours of live music.
STS9 has reportedly played concerts lasting until sunrise, and they certainly aren’t slacking off this weekend, hosting after-parties open to the public at The Fez following each show. The truly dedicated will want to follow them all the way to Denver, where beat-box champion Rahzel will join them, further obscuring the line between man and machine.
A final word of caution, the Neanderthal security guards at the Roseland are notorious for busting people, so be smart and safe this weekend while you dance your face off to the sweet music of STS9!
Sound Tribe Sector 9Saturday, Jan. 19 and Sunday, Jan. 20Roseland Theater 9 p.m. $21-Portion of proceeds go to charity of band’s choice All ages