When was the last time you spent a show wrapped in foot tapping, head bobbing, smiling nostalgia? Tonight Peter Calo and Company offer a tasting menu of 60s/70s singer-songwriter material. Calo has worked with most of these artists bringing authenticity, respect, enthusiasm, and an occasional anecdote to the show.
Vocalist Anne Carpenter opens with Joni Mitchell’s “Carey,” octaves sliding up and down familiarly greased. Bassist Paul Adamy smiles at Calo across her back. It’s always affecting to see skilled performers having a good time. Calo follows with “Carolina On My Mind” and the rarely heard “Copperline.” (James Taylor, a son of North Carolina) Vocal is cottony, comfortable. The musician rhythmically steps up to and back away from the microphone. Carpenter adds harmonic color. Volume rises slightly on the second, pithier song as if wishing to be heard-below. Picking is pristine.
Next we hear two by Carly Simon with whom Calo collaborated for years. “Legend in Your Own Time”
and “You’re So Vain” are aptly paired. Carpenter’s hands go to her breast, then elbows bent, open and close. An accusatory finger points. One can’t help but wish she shared, however. The performer barely looks at us. “When he goes home a-looone,” the vocalist laments…“ nobody home/He’s on his own…” Calo’s fingers flair creating heady guitar. Supportive bass adds texture.
New to me, Paul Simon’s “Father and Daughter” speaks to Calo personally as he’s father to three girls. “I’m gonna watch you shine/Gonna watch you grow/Gonna paint a sign/So you’ll always know…” he sings, heart on his sleeve. Even Adamy’s solo sounds vulnerable, not easy with bass guitar.
Jimmy Webb is represented by the lesser known “The Last Samba” and his iconic “Wichita Lineman.” Carpenter needs to take the first down a little. It’s burnished and should be shushed. That it’s part sung and part hummed is evocative. An end vamp (Calo’s contribution to the writing) is like 19th century cursive curl. The musician often adds these elegant tails. Calo’s ‘Lineman is a call into the night out a moving train. Its occasional almost-yodel manifest wistfulness. Waning sound is beautiful. (Webb was 21 when he wrote it.)
Two by the recently passed Kris Kristofferson include “Sunday Morning Coming Down” performed in Calo’s slightly lower, throaty register and a mid-tempo, traveling music version of “Me and Bobby McGee” with “la, da ,das,” very unlike Joplin’s interpretation. Adamy tips back and forth, head nodding as if facing wind out a car window. Appreciation of songs is vividly apparent.
Joni Mitchell’s trilling “Free Man in Paris” is as recognizable as “Night Ride Home” is obscure. Guitar sound on the first is like being swathed in a cape of richly made cloth – lined with bass. Carpenter opens and closes her eyes as if they control breath. String parentheses have Spanish feel. Shadows flicker. Dust kicks up in moonlight.
“Hold Out Your Heart.” co-written by Calo and Carly Simon, combines gentle strum and pluck. Helixes of melody curl round themselves. “Well if you ever want an endless night/Or you need a moon and stars to shine/Just hold out your heart my darling/And I will give you mine.” Carpenter bounces during the infectious “You Belong to Me.” Calo pats his guitar, then launches again to fly – brakes off. Exhilarating.
“Me and Julio Down By the School Yard” (Paul Simon) is just fun. Carpenter additionally whistles – and dances! Calo’s strum is sometimes dry, sometimes ripe. “We are fam-i-ly” and “Love Train” braid their way into the lyric. Audience chair dances.
Photos by Alix Cohen
Opening: Paul Adamy, Anne Carpenter, Peter Calo
Pangea
178 Second Avenue at 11th Street
