Word: gospels
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...pogo-ing his entire 6’6 length into the air, and the audience wasn’t long in joining him. Franti gives more to his audience than any other performer, his energy seamlessly carrying him and his band through hip hop, jazz and a strong gospel bent, evident on his last album Stay Human...
...line. But after praying to the Lord for sustenance, He provides—or so it seems. A ministering angel appears from the back of the dining hall and directs hungry patrons downstairs to a second buffet line, where, apparently, they can find the food they seek. Gospel brunchers, beware—He led us into temptation. For the first floor offers little more than some congealed pasta salad and cold, leathery leftover sausage scrags. By the time one repents and returns upstairs, the best food has already been picked over by the hungry hordes, and fresh batches are distinctly...
...then comes Rufus. Glowing like a green beacon of love (or perhaps radiation), he flows into the dining room with a rousing version of the gospel favorite, “This Little Light of Mine.” Unfortunately, trouble again awaits unwary diners. Eye contact with the purring Rufus will lead inevitably to his cramming a microphone in their faces. Speaking is enough of a challenge on a Sunday morning; an improvisational jazz solo is really beyond the pale...
After introducing himself, Rufus informs his audience that he is going to teach them how to receive the gospel choir that is about to emerge. He instructs his flock on when to cry out, “Glory!” and when they should opt for “Hallelujah!” But, just as the congregation is just beginning to get warmed up, poor Rufus seems to lose his train of thought. He never allows them the opportunity to fully demonstrate their skills. Instead, would-be parishioners are teased with minimal audience participation, which is soon abandoned...
...largely middle-aged, touristy crowd seems immune to the gospel power of their three songs. They sit inert, chewing gum and wiping away the spittle that forms at the corner of their mouths. Those who lose interest in the show can ponder the age-old question: Is the quality of a restaurant’s food inversely proportional to the number of scrunchies sported by its clientele...