Alluring musical twists and improvisations from master bassist Palladino and guitarist Mills

Does that fairytale Japanese flute playing really come from the guitar? And that melodic squeaking door that is then rammed shut on opening track ‘Taka’? Is there an invisible distorted string instrument somewhere?

With master bassist Pino Palladino and guitarist/producer Blake Mills, a lot happens on stage. It’s not always clear what exactly or why on earth you would do it – cutting off the drum patterns halfway through, Mills’ musical saw fascination. But as elusive as it is, it sounds so tempting and easy. In TivoliVredenburg they are also reinforced by drummer Chris Dave and experimental saxophonist Sam Gendel.

The twists and improvisations sometimes make you almost forget Palladino, the man of basketball height who is huddled under a cap and playing bass. But he’s the one who makes your head nod, who holds everything together with unorthodox funk runs. The Welshman could completely hide behind the stack of albums on which he played as a session musician, from D’Angelo to The Who, from Eric Clapton to Beyoncé. But four years ago he decided to step forward as bandleader with Mills, the guitarist who produced albums for John Legend, Alabama Shakes and Perfume Genius, among others. The collaboration resulted in two impressive albums that cannot be captured in one genre.

Gadgets on stage

This quickly sold out concert around the album ‘That Wasn’t Just A Dream’ by this ‘musicians’ musicians‘ brings a remarkable number of musicians from Dutch jazz, indie and experimental music to the hall. Both before and after the concert, the audience flocks to the stage to geek out about effects pedals and instruments. Because what should the drummer do with those two clumsy high spiral cymbals? And how does the ‘aerophone’ with which Gendel turns his wind instrument into a synthesizer work?

Zoom in

The nice thing is that all those gadgets are played on stage by four men who do not go for effect or applause. They show up in ill-fitting T-shirts, take their seats without saying hello, remain silent between the eleven songs and leave again. When Mills does turn the microphone towards him, it is to use his voice as an extra instrument, with the vocals moving along with the notes played. Mills speaks once, only to say that they are doing the encore straight away, without the ritual of walking away and coming back.

It is precisely the casual virtuosity that reduces the distance to the professional audience. When there is a consistent melody on the dreamy ‘Just Wrong’, it is quickly provided with a broken beat. And when Mills’ squeaky moaning guitar finally gets really annoying, on ‘Ekute’, he plays a few unexpected rock chords, just because he can.

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