Everyone on stage smiled when they locked eyes, mid-groove, almost as if they were getting away with something. But bathed in the cool purple light of the State House’s stage, the musicians in The Jam — musicians Jeremiah Fuller’s and Paul Bryant Hudson’s monthly gathering of the best of New Haven’s homegrown R&B talent — weren’t getting away. They were getting down.
The State House’s normally wide-open space reserved for standing concertgoers and dancers had been converted into a living room-cabaret, with the wafting scent of mouthwatering brisket from Nexas Barbecue adding an olfactory note to the many musical ones circulating the space. The DJ’d set break music mixed mellow and funky, with many folks greeting and hugging each other as they all showed up to the party. For a Tuesday night, this was the place to be.
“How many musicians are in the room?” The band started with an upbeat jam, with Fuller dictating the grooves of the rest of the band — Hudson, Pete Greco, Andwele Coore, Travis Hall, Albear Sheffield, Stephen Gritz King, Dylan McDonnell, and Trey Moore — and they all started the elaborate conversation that is jamming at the highest level, trading licks and traversing a landscape of textured sound. The tell-tale bass line of Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition” wove itself into the conversation, and the room was up and dancing as Hudson gave a masterful, almost mysterious rendition of the standard.
The cosmic grooves, dueling drums, crashing yet agile keys, and reggae-esque basslines transitioned into what can only be described as an inside-out rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Beat it” and, after treading into territory so funky it can barely be described, the group collectively paused. Hudson leaned into the mic with a smile, explaining the second set’s procedure. This was a jam, not an open mic.
“We value fluid transitions and organic chemistry. If you want to play, come up, and we’ll all figure out how you fit,” he said.
It was in the second set that the night became transcendent, as a seemingly all-star cast including Thabisa, Ro Godwynn, and many others materialized and converged on the State House to take the crowd on a journey. Hands were raised in praise in the audience: whoops and screams and affirmational swaying to the beat. Hudson floated on and off stage, tending to the jam like a loving gardener tends a prized flower, letting it grow, but making sure it had all it needed. He came on to duet a masterful, slowed down version of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy,” in which the entire room got up to dance and groove. At midnight on a Tuesday. The jam ended with an intense discussion in percussion between two drummers, with driving keys punctuating each line of rhythmic dialogue. That brought the audience members from dancing to standing on the edges of their feet, leaning forward to see what each new phrase would bring, getting as excited as the musicians were, gleefully sharing the smile that perhaps the entire room had gotten away with something very special as the night came to a close.
On this eve-eve of Thanksgiving, the Jam is a striking reminder of all there is to be thankful for in New Haven. That there are musicians dedicated to nurturing this jam into the holy communal experience it has become, that there is a venue such as the State House that “gets it,” so to speak. That there is a seemingly bottomless well of talent born and raised in New Haven that continues to thrive in this city. That a venue downtown will highlight graduates of Co-Op and Amistad High Schools on its billings, that even as people like Grimes might remark that live music will be obsolete in 40 years, there’s a very lively heart of music beating in New Haven that proves her wrong every night of the week.
Hudson noted right as he stepped off stage that the next Jam would be Dec. 20. Another holiday for the season.
