Hideout Block Party 2011, The Eternals, Booker T. Jones, Jon Langford & the Burlington Welsh Men's Choir | Live review

After a rambling introduction by Hideout co-owner Tim Tuten, the Eternals hit the stage before a sparse early-afternoon crowd. The forecasted rain has held off, and some rays of sunshine peek through as the Chicago threesome launch into their experimental blend of jazz, punk and dub. Drummer Areif Sless-Kitain and bassist Wayne Montana form funky grooves over which vocalist Damon Locks shouts, sings and taps out dissonant keyboard riffs. Their sound borrows from all corners of cutting edge music, touching on everything from krautrock and afro-beat.

“Thank you for coming to this lovely festival,” Locks said in between songs. The lyrical content matched the bands dark sonic textures, as Lock used his full vocal range to invoke anxiety and paranoia. Mulvenna ably switched from reggae to hip hop beats, setting the foundation for Montana and Lock’s restless experimentation. Some brave members of the crowd attempted to dance to the rhythms, which often shifted and transformed. For their last song, Locks asked the crowd, which was spaced out over the entire Streets and Sanitation parking lot, to consolidate. “Everyone step up five feet,” he requested,” the show will be much better, I promise you.” The Eternals ask nicely, but their music doesn’t claim to have any such manners.

After the Eternals, there’s a long set-up, allowing ample time for bikes disguised as schools of fish to pedal through the crowd and for a frightening number of stylishly-dressed toddlers to appear. Finally, Booker T. Jones came on stage and took his seat at the organ. The rock and soul legend band, dressed in purple jacket, lavender shirt, black pork-pie hat and sunglasses, was accompanied by drums, guitar and bass. The first two numbers, “Harlem Lounge” and “Walking Papers,” off his most recent album The Road from Memphis, were instrumental numbers that riffed on the Memphis-soul sound Jones helped create. Jones’ organ pushed the groove subtly, letting the rhythms and interplay take center stage.

The crowd was more into the hits, which Jones rolls out starting with “Born Under a Bad Sign,” which he wrote for the late blues legend Albert King. Over the tectonic bass line, Jones sang “If it weren’t for bad luck/I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” Next, the band launched into “Green Onions,” Jones’ signature song, which he recorded with Booker T. and MGs as a teen in 1962. Featuring one of the most iconic and recognizable grooves in modern music, the song still exudes a cool, authoritative confidence, 50 years after it was released. Jones further reminded the crowd of his vast influence on a wide range of genres, performing songs by former collaborators like Otis Redding and Al Green, and even fitting in a swinging instrumental version of Outkast’s “Hey Yeah.”

In a total shift of music styles, the late afternoon saw Jon Langford bring his mix of punk, country and balladry to the stage. Langford, the former singer of the Mekons, was dressed in a black silk suit and black tie, and played with a band made up of drums, violin, guitar, bass, two female back-up singers and thirty-odd elderly gentlemen in burgundy polo shirts. The men are the Burlington Welsh Male Choir, and they drove down from Toronto just for the show. Langford joked about their sacrifice: “They came in a bus from Canada for you! They bled in their motel rooms for you! They drank three pints last night…for you!”

The chorus added a welcome touch of gravity and bombast to Langford’s songs, which range from protest anthems to murder ballads. One particularly touching moment came when the band played an old Welsh song about coal mining, promising “I never again will go underground.” Other numbers had more traditional punk leanings, with Langford railing against unemployment, billboards and corporations. All in all the set exudes a sense of celebration and history befitting the 15th anniversary of a venue that dates back to the 1890s.