Krantz, Carlock, Lefebvre At Bop Stop

KCL: Wayne Krantz, Keith Carlock, Tim Lefebvre
Bop Stop
Cleveland, OH
February 25, 2022

Back in the late '90s, chameleon-like guitarist Wayne Krantz started building a reputation by banding together with bassist Tim Lefebvre and drummer Keith Carlock for a residency at The 55 Bar in New York. By sharing their homemade, downloadable recordings of these regular gigs, a wider audience grew beyond the home environs. A studio album in 2009 further solidified their growing reputation as a collective dynamo, the likes of which had not been heard since the days of Power Tools, the late '80s shapeshifting trio that featured drummer Ronald Shannon Jackson, electric bassist Melvin Gibbs and guitarist Bill Frisell.

Following a lengthy hiatus, KCL recently put together their "Golden Days" tour, making nine stops, including a recent two-set performance at Bop Stop. A bevy of guitarists and drummers made up the healthy crowds for both shows, anxious to see this trio in the intimate setting of Cleveland's premier jazz club. Carlock sagaciously morphed two house drum kits, a Fortune and a vintage Rogers, into his traditional set up. Both Krantz and Lefebvre boasted complex arrays of foot pedals at their feet and the subsequent volume level was much higher than is usual for this space, although not in a way that distracted from the overall enjoyment.

Clad in T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes with glow-in-the-dark laces, Krantz enthused about this occasion being the first time for him doing his own tunes in Cleveland. As they kicked off the second show, a loose and collective vibe commanded rapt attention over the course of a generous hour-and-a-half set. Carlock's locked-in backbeat was the glue that held it all together, as Krantz unleased his face-melting leads via whammy bar and pedal effects. Staking a claim aside from mere timekeeping, Lefebvre was less about groove and more about his own collection of sounds and textures.

Shifting moods and feels were part and parcel of each and every piece, making for a collective sense of investigation. Think "jam band" mentality taken up about a dozen notches. By mid-set, the tune "Marble Maker" served as a musical lab experiment. Alternating bass riffs and drum backbeats with sections of odd-metered phrases, Krantz found the challenging passages beyond his reach for a moment. Not a bit shy about it, he stopped the band and commented, "Hold on, I'm going to get this right." He ran his fingers through the motions a few times and then the band fell back in to finish the performance. With a chuckle, he then delivered the punchline-"That was almost it!"

The closing "Why" and "Soul System" stood out by nature of Krantz's vocal scatting in tandem with his guitar. The effect was much like Konnakol, a manner of singing percussion syllables as found in South Indian music. As the music developed, Lefebvre's octave bass tones complemented the microtonal phrases emanating from Krantz' guitar. Carlock's swing beat on the ride cymbal wove in and out of bone-crushing hip hop beats slamming squarely on two and four.

A far cry from the typical stadium gigs with Sting, John Mayer, or Steely Dan that are the bread and butter for these guys, it was obvious that the fodder provided by these open-ended jams served as mutual gratification for both artists and listeners alike.

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