Nate Smith at The Cleveland Museum of Art

Nate Smith
Cleveland Museum of Art
Cleveland, Ohio
February 19, 2025

When it comes to drummers who can seamlessly traverse multiple genres, Nate Smith stands in a league of his own. Effortlessly shifting from hard-swinging jazz to the tightest hip-hop grooves, he makes it all look easy. His musical journey accelerated at 16 when he discovered Art Blakey's Album of the Year (Timeless, 1981), a revelation that set him on a path of deep study. That path led him to a pivotal mentorship with the legendary Betty Carter during his brief but formative tenure in her band. A three-time Grammy nominee, Smith has spent the past two decades refining his craft as both a performer and producer, with his group Kinfolk earning widespread critical acclaim.

In the fall of 2024, Smith embarked on a short tour alongside bassist Tim Lefebvre and keyboardist Jason Lindner, a trio whose undeniable chemistry was forged over several years of shared performances going back to 2022. Lefebvre, well-versed in the trio format, has worked with the likes of guitarist Wayne Krantz and drummer Keith Carlock, while Lindner has evolved from his '90s big-band roots into a more experimental, groove-driven approach—one that aligns perfectly with Smith's artistic vision.

Back on the road for a string of shows in Kalamazoo, Traverse City, Indianapolis and Cincinnati, Nate Smith and his trio took the stage at the Cleveland Museum of Art's Gartner Auditorium for a fully improvised set that stretched just over an hour. As Smith remarked after the first extended jam, "You never know what you are going to hear. You have to be in the room to hear it." That spontaneous spirit yielded a performance both exploratory and hard-hitting, even as it leaned more on texture and rhythm than melodic development.

Flanked by an arsenal of keyboards and electronics, Lindner served as the evening's pacesetter, weaving a dense tapestry of sounds. At one point, siren-like effects and pulsing disco beats sent Smith leaping from his seat, grabbing a shaker in one hand while using the other to jangle a string of bells draped over a cymbal. Meanwhile, Lefebvre alternated between acoustic and five-string electric bass, adding unexpected layers to the groove far beyond traditional timekeeping.

Smith, for his part, responded intuitively to his bandmates, his playing centered within a tight, groove-driven framework. His signature clapstack and high-tuned snare created intricate micro-divisions within the beat, while a deeper snare to his left provided thunderous backbeats on two and four, punctuated by cymbal crashes and the occasional tom fill. If there was one caveat, it was that Smith—despite moments of brilliance—might have opened up more during his solo moments. A touch more structural planning, with melodies playing a greater role alongside the sonic textures, could have added variety to the set. Still, the trio's "tightrope act without a net" approach delivered a singular, unrepeatable experience—one that rewarded those lucky enough to be in the room.