Brian Robinson of The New Chastity stood in front of the packed house at Never Ending Books on Friday night, his phone in his hand. He joked that he had told his therapist he was going to write more songs about sex. He hit a button on his phone, which was hooked up to the PA, and voices — Robinson’s own, in rich harmony — flowed out.
“Wait. Not this one,” he said. He hit a button on his phone again, and another series of harmonies flowed out. This time Robinson took his position in front of the microphone as the other members of The New Chastity — Rob Breychak on guitar and Jason Sirianni on drums — dropped into a slow jam. The effect was luscious and unexpected, sexy and fun, the beginning of a night that felt like a long kiss-off to 2016 and a hopeful turn toward the future.
Robinson has been gigging around town over the past few years as the composer and singer for the Tet Offensive, a band of string quartet and drummer that Robinson fronted with all the strut and verve of a full-on rock star. The New Chastity allowed Robinson to explore a different set of sounds and genres, drawing in R&B, doo-wop, and other vocal experiments along with the rock. That the band was still defining what it was capable of was a positive, suggesting all kinds of directions the project could go in, and a fresh new year in which to do it.
Host band Mercy Choir’s set (in which, in full disclosure, this reporter played bass) was coming at the end of the evening — the last installment of the year of the band’s ongoing residency at Never Ending Books on State Street. First, however, the people were treated to a gorgeous, intimate set from New Haven’s own folk legend Kath Bloom, who began her recording career in 1978 and famously had her song “Come Here” appear as the backbone of a key sequence in Richard Linklater’s 1995 film Before Sunrise. On Friday night she appeared with Flo Ness on percussion and backing vocals. Together they floated through a set of Bloom’s arresting, moving songs, interspersed with wit and wry commentary.
“Memory and time — I could think about those things forever,” Bloom said. “And that’s what it comes down to — forever.”
Bloom’s set only got more lively as it went on, as she pulled the audience into her world enough to accompany her on her final songs. “We’re going to do songs where you guys sing along. It doesn’t have to be hokey,” she said, to laughter. “There could be worse things,” she added, to more laughter. “Well, not too much worse,” she added again. Even more laughter.
But Bloom was right. Everyone singing together wasn’t hokey. It was fun and meaningful, and seemed to pull people closer together. Bloom’s set ended too soon for the people who had come to hear her, and they called immediately for an encore.
“I’d like to hear one more song from Kath Bloom,” said Paul Belbusti, host and leader of Mercy Choir. The audience agreed, and Bloom returned to the stage. When she performed a song from 1982, “Fall Again” — which she said she wrote in Grove Street Cemetery — the mood was approaching something like reverential.
Mercy Choir finished off the evening with a set of Belbusti’s originals, capped with a quick rendition of “Auld Lang Syne.” Again, and this time without provocation, several people raised their voices again to sing along.
