MUSIC REVIEW | MOFRO
Out of the Swamp, Dripping With Both Wildness and Cool

 
By NATE CHINEN
Published: October 26, 2009
In the first few moments of Friday morning, J J Grey was in the middle of a lean, casually nimble guitar solo, sounding a bit like a young Jerry Garcia. His band, Mofro, had a lock on a sharply credible funk groove, playing “Ho Cake,” a tune from its 2001 debut. Some in the crowd at the Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza were reacting with gawkily un-self-conscious dance moves. For the moment Mr. Grey and his crew were doing a fine impersonation of a jam band.

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Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times
J J Grey & Mofro, with Mr. Grey on guitar, shared the bill with Shooter Jennings on Thursday night at the Fillmore New York at Irving Plaza.
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For much of the previous hour, though, Mofro had delivered something murkier, deeper and more measured, if no less assertive in its rhythm. Mr. Grey, from Jacksonville, Fla., makes a loose derivation of Southern swamp rock, with undercurrents of Memphis soul. His songs chronicle ambiguous truths and unambiguous urges, occasionally lighting on a righteous cause.

The show’s biggest singalong was on “Lochloosa,” a wistful ballad inspired by the Florida lake and wildlife area of that name. “All we need is one more damn developer/Tearing her heart out,” Mr. Grey sang in his urgent drawl.

The set otherwise drew mainly from “Orange Blossoms” (Alligator), a sturdy album released last year. And, among other things, it suggested that Mofro has one of the great unhurried rhythm sections in rock, capable of heavy track-laying but comfortable with airy fluctuation. “Move It On,” a molasses-dipped entreaty, involved sinuous bass lines doubled on Hammond B-3 organ. “Higher You Climb,” a bitter scold of a song, featured a tersely chugging groove.

Mr. Grey’s bleary take on soul singing felt winningly uncontrived, and his rapport with the six other members of Mofro, including a two-piece horn section, couldn’t have been clearer. Every now and then, during one of his pithy guitar solos, he turned to exchange grins with Anthony Cole, a terrific drummer. By the show’s final encore, a rave-up gospel version of “Got My Mojo Working,” Mr. Grey was huffing hard through a harmonica while the band, loose but driving, flailed on.

That balance of wildness and cool seemed like a can’t-miss ideal for Shooter Jennings, who shared the bill. And in stretches Mr. Jennings, whose father was the outlaw country legend Waylon Jennings, managed a good, hardheaded spin on Southern blues-rock, backed by a professionally rugged band. “Daddy’s Farm” closed the set, just as it closes a live album made in the same room a few years ago. Its air of menace made sense.

Where Mr. Jennings faltered was on most of his newer songs, including “California via Tennessee,” which doesn’t go deeper than the title, and “Don’t Feed the Animals,” which doesn’t even try. “Everything Else Is Illusion,” with background vocals by Matt Whyte (of the Brooklyn band Earl Greyhound, which opened), was a mess. And “Black Ribbons,” which Mr. Jennings played alone on an acoustic guitar, presented a heap of maudlin cliché. It sounded desperate, but not in the way Mr. Jennings seemed to intend.

J J Grey & Mofro perform with Shooter Jennings on Thursday at the Orange Grove in Asheville, N.C.; on Friday at the Valarium in Knoxville, Tenn.; and on Saturday at Minglewood Hall in Memphis. Details at mofro.net.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/arts/music/27mofro.html?_r=1