On Wednesday night, Cafe Nine hosted a gem of a show to a small but captivated audience. Blues and rock were the musical selling points, but the artists who shared the stage all brought an extra dimension — that of showmanship and sincerity — that can only happen in small venues like the New Haven club.
Opening the show was Connecticut’s own The Problem With Kids Today. The three-piece, composed of guitarist/vocalist Tate Brooks, bassist/vocalist Silas Lang and drummer Reena Yu, ran through an energetic set of punchy blues rock that called to mind the glory days of punk rock.
Shouting from behind his sunglasses and Joey Ramone mop of hair, Brooks led the band through their rollicking songs with an engaged audience of friends and fans interacting with the musicians. When he wasn’t taking the lead vocals, the guitarist utilized a series of 1970s rock star kicks and Pete Townshend-inspired windmills, and at one point chugged his beer before kicking the can into the audience. It may not have had the danger of CBGB, but it was fun enough.
Tuning his guitar between songs, Brooks had some choice words for the instrument before telling the audience, “why blame it on the instrument? It’s all me, I’m just a big fuck up.” The reference was to a string he broke during soundcheck. But even if it was the guitar’s fault, what The Problem With Kids Today do isn’t precision music. It benefits from a dropped beat, a missed chord, or an out-of-tune guitar string. It’s earnest. It’s just good old-fashioned rock ‘n’ roll.
Bob Log III headlined the evening in front of a stage set consisting of a blow-up raft and floating duck pool toy. His set started from behind the bar, where he played his way to the stage, and ended in a very similar manner, as he strummed his guitar into white noise.
For the uninitiated, Bob Log III plays a beefed-up, hard-rocking take on Delta blues accompanied by distorted vocals that come through a telephone installed into the jet pilot helmet he dons onstage. While simultaneously playing guitar and singing, he also accompanies himself on kick drum, foot triggered cymbal/tambourine combo, and a myriad of other pedal-prompted electronic percussion.
Throughout the set the guitarist encouraged the audience to stomp “COVID-free” balloons, drink Prosecco from his inflatable duck (which no one took up) and toast a couple slices of Wonder bread in his fully operable on-stage toaster. That, of course, was to fill the room with a scent that would enhance one his songs, which may have actually worked. He also treated every number as if it was the best song that had ever been played, standing up and raising his fist as he strummed out their final notes.
Log doesn’t need the gimmickry — he’s an outstanding guitar player alone — but it certainly doesn’t hurt, especially when his between-song banter and antics are as absurd as his image. But between his blazing finger picking, soulful slide, and ability to make his drum kit do incomprehensible things, the audience was an engaged in his musicianship as his often-comedic performance.
“I look good, I sound good,” he told the audience multiple times. Everyone agreed.
