Nick Grunerud, a.k.a. Underwear, lunged toward the electronic music gear he had wired up on a table in front of him Sunday evening. He’d already set up the gear to lay down a sparse, somewhat moody groove. His hands worked fast over the equipment, sending out glitchy spasms of percussion. He brought the microphone he was holding to his mouth.
“You see me in the forest, baby,” he crooned, “looking for trees.” The audience of about 25 at the Ely Center of Contemporary Art on Trumbull Street laughed, and laughed more as Grunerud unleashed a barrage of noise that was both jarring and yet somehow also sounded like cartoons. The humor and surprise that Grunerud always injects into his music were in full effect. And it was only 9 p.m.
“It can just do all these things,” said accordionist Patrick Farrell after a performance he gave with trumpet and flugelhorn player Ben Holmes.
Farrell was talking enthusiastically about the accordion and the many sonic possibilities of the instrument, but he might as well have been talking about the duo, which harnessed a dazzling array of colors, moods, and stylistic references across two wide-ranging sets at the Institute Library.
To some, Sunday signals the end of the week; to others, it’s the beginning. In the dimly lit Pacific Standard Tavern on Crown Street, however, a brotherhood of musicians gathered on Sunday to lean into the now and make the night one of camaraderie and controlled chaos.
Hundreds of protesters roared outside an Elm Street nail salon accused of underpaying its immigrant workers, while the shop’s manager leaned on a parking meter and filmed the scene through his smartphone.
When Peter Chenot saw Chrissy Gardner perform her work, her utter naturalness — an ability to tell a joke mid-performance and then continue or move into the next number effortlessly — convinced him she had also to be on stage in a major part as his Mary Swenson.
The name of the retailer that will occupy the two floors of retail space beneath Yale University’s future grad student housing on Elm Street was so top secret that even the mayor wasn’t told before the big unveiling.
A plan to remove Engine 9 from the Ellsworth Avenue firehouse is dead, but the new fire chief has other plans to beef up the department’s response to medical calls, restructure its organization, and save the city money.