Thousands lined up outside of Brandeis University's Shapiro Gym, seeking refuge from the below-freezing air. Others wandered around in desperate search of tickets, blatantly ignoring the handmade "SOLD OUT" signs taped to the gym's walls. Amidst the promise of ensuing mayhem, human rights protestors handed out cherry lollipops, buttons, and cups of matzoh ball soup. The chaos would soon be silenced by the astonishing talent of Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals, the four-piece soul-folk-rock outfit that has astonished both critics and fans for years.
First, singer-songwriter Jack Johnson warmed up the crowd. Both his vocal and guitar styles were sincere, but Johnson's drummer overplayed his role. Bassist Merlo used a unique style of playing high on the bass's neck, an octave above its normal range. Johnson included songs from his recent debut, Brushfire Fairytales, as well as the hit "Rodeo Clowns," which he "wrote with [his] friend, G. Love." This more familiar number got the crowd dancing.
The Innocent Criminals took the stage shortly after 9 p.m. Each member brought his own unique persona to the group's undeniably powerful stage presence.
Bassist Juan Nelson trundled onstage. A short, stocky African-American man who weighs about 300 pounds and sports an enormous afro, Nelson evokes comparisons to Eddie Murphy's Nutty Professor. His constant hip-shaking and intense facial expressions add credence to the comparison; Nelson knows how to use his personality and appearance to wake up a crowd. But his incomparable skill on the five-string bass is what any concert-goer will remember about him.
Drummer Dean Butterworth climbed up behind his tremendous drum kit. Wearing his long black hair under a headband, he waved to the crowd from between rows of shimmering cymbals. Butterworth never comes onstage wearing a shirt. In fact, his incredibly muscular body and decorative tattoos make him look more like a porn star than a drummer. Like Nelson, however, it is Butterworth's phenomenal drumming ability that replaces any preconceptions the audience may have had.
David Leach waved to the already-charged crowd and joined his incomprehensibly large array of percussive instruments: cowbells, cymbals, wind chimes, steel drums, a strap-on conga, and more. Wearing a bright red T-shirt, eyeglasses, and his hair in dreadlocks that reached down to his chest, Leach looked like a Rastafarian preacher. For the two-hour set, Leach's accessory percussion added punctuation to the group's songs, while helping to power Butterworth's drum solos.
Once the talented band had assembled onstage, the group's true star emerged. Wearing his puffy hair in a red, white, and blue headband, Ben Harper smilingly walked onto stage in a 1970s vintage American Basketball Association T-shirt. Though he had not yet played a single note, the crowd roared deafeningly. He laughed and waved, climbed up onto his signature chair-on-a-platform, and launched into the first part of his two hour set.
Early on, Harper included an extended version of "Burn One Down." The screaming crowd sung along to every word. Teary-eyed fans shouted and jumped against the steel barricades that held them back from the stage. After the ending of this mellow number, Harper traded in his acoustic guitar for a double-necked Gibson SG. He played an amazing slide-guitar intro on the top neck, then launched into his smash hit "Burn To Shine" using the lower neck. The Shapiro Gym, filled with a mix of college students from local schools as well as a considerable number of older fans, ignited. Concert-goers screamed, shouted, jumped, and sang, only to find their intense energy level matched by the performers onstage.
Harper interrupted his set when an inflatable penguin hovering above the heads in the crowd caught his eye. He requested that the penguin be passed forward to him, then told the crowd a story about being repeatedly nibbled on by a penguin while swimming in Australia.
"He was a cheeky little bastard; he kept coming back," Harper said. As much as he appreciated the inflatable gift, he humorously made sure that he remained the center of attention: "I'm not gonna let the penguin steal the show; I'm not gonna put it up on the amp or anything."
After the penguin episode, the band launched back into its electric set, which culminated with "I'll Rise." The powerful number included a joint solo by Butterworth and Leach. As Leach demonstrated a deep-rooted knowledge of his instruments, Leach utilized his double-bass pedal to fill the Shapiro Gym with a thumping rhythm. Everyone in the building felt the aural pummeling in their chests, and Butterworth's steadiness on the bass drum remained steadfast even as he completed incomprehensibly fast rolls on the toms and snare. Suddenly, strobe lights began to flash in sync with Butterworth's beat. Just when the multi-sensory assault began to disorient the crowd, the band launched back into the song. Harper's down-tuned lap steel and Nelson's five-string bass resumed their rumbling, almost heavy metal melody.
Suddenly, Harper put down his lap steel and stood up, his right fist clenched and extended into the air. He incited the crowd to chant "I'll rise" with him. After a minute or so of chanting, the band left the stage amidst a wall of feedback.
Without waiting ten seconds, the crowd began pounding the gym's floor, desperate for more. Harper came onstage alone and picked up an acoustic guitar. He played a 25-minute acoustic set that included a handful of his more delicate love songs, as well as "Indifference" by Pearl Jam. The crowd remained silent and still for each acoustic song, then roared when Harper finished playing them.
"You guys are the best; I'm just gonna keep playing," Harper said. However, he left shortly thereafter.
The house lights didn't go on, and the audience knew it was in for an incredible finale. Soon, the Innocent Criminals joined Harper on stage. Leach and Butterworth laid down the beat for smash hit "Steal My Kisses," and Nelson, using the palm of his hand on the strings of his bass, mimicked turntable scratching. Harper joined his rhythm section, but it was Nelson's bass solo that stole the show. He demonstrated every single bass technique - from slapping and popping to bending and sliding - with the utmost expertise.
Knowing he had the crowd's full attention, Harper then articulated his views concerning the spiritual side of his songs.
"There's one voice I answer to, and that's God," he said. "There's no one denomination, no religion, no race, no gender. I'm down with Judaism, I'm down with Buddhism, I'm down with Catholicism, I'm down with Christianity." Musicians often become bombastic and arrogant when addressing their audiences, but Harper's brief speech was heartfelt, even moving.
For the show's finale, Harper pulled out an electric lap steel and launched into "Faded," a rollicking hard rock number. In the middle of this song he inserted his now-famous cover of Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love." Harper slapped and pounded the strings on his instrument as he played every note of Jimmy Page's challenging guitar solo. He even went so far as to include a verse from obscure Led Zeppelin song "Hats Off To Harper" before returning to the last verse of "Faded."
Clutching a watercolor portrait of himself that an audience member had given to him, Harper left the stage, seemingly oblivious to the ear-splitting roar of the audience and his still-screaming lap steel. The Innocent Criminals walked across the stage, tossing out drumsticks and towels to the waiting crowd.
After pounding the gong on Leach's percussion set, Nelson was the last to walk offstage. The stunned, sweaty crowd, now sure that the performance had finally concluded, filed out into the cold of the February night.
