Mocky's new album, Saskamodie, makes great use of the Paris studio in which it was recorded, channeling the spirit of artists who have previously recorded there -- Nina Simone, Serge Gainsbourg -- into a wonderfully warm and intimate take on '60s lounge pop. The presence of friends and co-conspirators like Jamie Lidell and Feist only enhances the Canadian musician's ample, obvious talents as a songwriter, arranger and multi-instrumentalist.
Mocky's recent performance in his current hometown, Berlin, didn't feature any of those names, and the setting couldn't have been more different from the celebrated Paris studio. The show took place at Badeschiff, an artificial beach along the banks of the Spree river, where the band performed beneath a plastic tarp while the crowd sat in folding hammock chairs or sprawled on damp sand. Berlin's clockwork summer showers had begun shortly after soundcheck and let up, more or less, right about the time the band came on stage. (Serendipity, or something more?)
This was no setting for a control freak. Gusts of wind buffeted the microphones, and the relaxed style of the ersatz beach club led to further issues. A man in the crowd blew slow bursts of soap bubbles that wafted toward the stage. As the band finished playing its first song, the speakers continued to emit the sound of music: Bebel Gilberto singing a sultry, sunny bossa nova that seemed to mock the grey skies above, as well as the players on stage. "Can someone kill the DJ?" asked Mocky into the microphone, as a promoter scrambled to find the offending fader. Pause. "Turn that music off, too."
But the makeshift environment turned out to be the perfect setting for Mocky's homespun soul. The group -- including a pianist on a Fender Rhodes, Taylor Savvy on standup bass, a flutist and a string trio -- took the stage wearing bizarre, wide-brimmed sombreros hung with a good 18 inches of dangling, silky fringe; you wondered how the players didn't get the stuff stuck between their fingers and their instruments. The hats only lasted one song, but they sufficiently underscored the concert's ever-so-slightly madcap vibe. (Pun not entirely intended. Speaking of madcap, don't miss the album's genius, Zelig-like video, "Mockumentary.")
Mocky led his group through a faithful interpretation of the bulk of the album's songs, but with lots of room left for improvisation, impulsiveness and plain old fun. Virtually every player took an extended solo at one point or another. Mocky, his curls flopping about his forehead, dug into his drum kit with evident satisfaction, expertly maneuvering tempo shifts as he played his way around the beat. What he lacked in polish, he more than made up for in enthusiasm.
The string arrangements added an extra dimension to the small-combo sound: bursts of bright, augmented chords as refreshing as a Campari on the Riviera. But the real magic lay in the interaction between players. (Mocky and Savvy seemed to have a running joke going between them; their fills felt like wisecracks in a good-natured game of one-upmanship.) As relaxed as the music was, everyone scrambled to be useful. When laying off their own instruments, musicians would shake noisemakers hung around their necks, evoking the lazy rustle of a thatched roof in the tropics.
"Goofy" might be one word for those kinds of antics, but the band had the chops to pull it off. In the show's most spirited passage, the group broke down "Saskamodie" into a loose, chugging approximation of Philip Glass or Steve Reich, turning 8th-note patter into a gauzy harmonic weave. The flutist sang her notes higher and higher, looking almost surprised herself with her final, warbly steps up the scale. Taylor Savvy slurred around the offbeats, quite possibly on the verge of laughter. No one was having more fun than the musicians were, but the audience came in a close, envious second -- damp sand and all.
Watch Mocky and the Saskamodie Orchestra performing Earth, Wind & Fire's "September" at Badeschiff here, and listen to Saskamodie in our playlist.
But the makeshift environment turned out to be the perfect setting for Mocky's homespun soul. The group -- including a pianist on a Fender Rhodes, Taylor Savvy on standup bass, a flutist and a string trio -- took the stage wearing bizarre, wide-brimmed sombreros hung with a good 18 inches of dangling, silky fringe; you wondered how the players didn't get the stuff stuck between their fingers and their instruments. The hats only lasted one song, but they sufficiently underscored the concert's ever-so-slightly madcap vibe. (Pun not entirely intended. Speaking of madcap, don't miss the album's genius, Zelig-like video, "Mockumentary.")
Mocky led his group through a faithful interpretation of the bulk of the album's songs, but with lots of room left for improvisation, impulsiveness and plain old fun. Virtually every player took an extended solo at one point or another. Mocky, his curls flopping about his forehead, dug into his drum kit with evident satisfaction, expertly maneuvering tempo shifts as he played his way around the beat. What he lacked in polish, he more than made up for in enthusiasm.
The string arrangements added an extra dimension to the small-combo sound: bursts of bright, augmented chords as refreshing as a Campari on the Riviera. But the real magic lay in the interaction between players. (Mocky and Savvy seemed to have a running joke going between them; their fills felt like wisecracks in a good-natured game of one-upmanship.) As relaxed as the music was, everyone scrambled to be useful. When laying off their own instruments, musicians would shake noisemakers hung around their necks, evoking the lazy rustle of a thatched roof in the tropics.
"Goofy" might be one word for those kinds of antics, but the band had the chops to pull it off. In the show's most spirited passage, the group broke down "Saskamodie" into a loose, chugging approximation of Philip Glass or Steve Reich, turning 8th-note patter into a gauzy harmonic weave. The flutist sang her notes higher and higher, looking almost surprised herself with her final, warbly steps up the scale. Taylor Savvy slurred around the offbeats, quite possibly on the verge of laughter. No one was having more fun than the musicians were, but the audience came in a close, envious second -- damp sand and all.
Watch Mocky and the Saskamodie Orchestra performing Earth, Wind & Fire's "September" at Badeschiff here, and listen to Saskamodie in our playlist.
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I'd never heard of Mocky, and I don't generally go for this sound, but this is very lovely music. The live show sounds fantastic as well.