“Whale meat again,” said the bo’sun

I’ve always enjoyed taking in multiple shows in one night. Maybe it’s my inborn need to claim a duplicitous identity. On this Wednesday night, I happened to catch Laurie Anderson, perhaps the world’s greatest solo performance artist, at UC Davis’ Freeborn Hall. However, it was the act that followed that piqued my interest and revived the other five senses.

Call Me Ishmael, Sacramento’s latest entry into neo-psychedelia, was playing at Harlow’s, on one of local Alive & Kicking publisher/promoter Jerry Perry’s Wednesday night local-music showcases. After only a couple of months of testing the waters, it would seem that both the reception and attendance have grown considerably.

Led by lanky frontman/guitarist Brian Valenzuela, the band launched into songs off its recently released CD, Listen. Keyboardist Andy Babcock, sporting a low-rider seat, nestled himself cozily at stage left and set the somnolent vibe that characterized my favorite part of the band’s sound. Drummer Robby Dowd set up sideways, close to what a standard Medeski, Martin and Wood stage diagram might look like, and Nate Webb held court with some steady but assertive basslines.

At times, keyboard/guitar breakdowns mirrored those of early Yes or Genesis, only to be disrupted by swinging rhythms that occasionally meandered off the beaten track. However, the band’s finest moments were those where it threw out traditional song arrangements and simply let whole keyboard notes and ambient guitar noises take over. Remnants of Daniel Lanois’ more ambient moments, coupled with Pink Floyd’s soundtrack years, crept through the main speakers. Although maybe a bit mature for a typical, beer-drinking Harlow’s crowd, Call Me Ishmael’s ideas were on the right path.

When the band did kick into gear, Brian’s voice sounded a lot like Frank Jordan’s Mike Visser, or perhaps a disenchanted Jeff Buckley. Call Me Ishmael’s overall sound is quite comparable to Frank Jordan and Pocket for Corduroy’s more introspective moments; it’s as poignant as it is compelling.

This introspective and innovative band is a breath of fresh air for the Sacramento scene and should be investigated further. These guys are still young—a good guess is that their median age is around 22 to 24. But I’ll bet that Call Me Ishmael will become a major force to reckon with by the end of this year.

(SN&R)