The Cat Empire

Jim Bianco
Chris McFarland

Knitting Factory - May 26, 2005

Live Review by Adam McKibbin

The Cat Empire are gigantic in their native Australia, a platinum act that packs houses and leaves crowds sweating and swooning. They have a long distance to go to replicate that success in the States, but they did get a medium-sized audience at the Knitting Factory eating out of their hands. Skepticism is understandable upon first look and listen; they’re six dudes who look like TAs at your alma mater, and they play the sort of jazz-meets-reggae-meets-hip-hop fusion that at least two bands on every American college campus play in an assortment of student unions and microbreweries.

It’s nothing new, but, damn, when it’s done right, it can be a good time. From the moment they came literally bounding out onto the stage, The Cat Empire set themselves apart by going full tilt, never phoning in a song or looking like they’d rather be elsewhere. Up front, the charismatic Harry Angus flexed his versatility, singing, scatting, rhyming and blowing his trumpet like he wanted to blow out the speaker system. Angus and his mates clearly thrive in the live setting, playing off each other while kicking up a Latin-flavored ruckus. They clearly continued to absorb some musical heritage during their recording time in Cuba (where the new album, Two Shoes, was recorded). Without resorting to lame, “Clap your hands, L.A.!” tactics, The Cat Empire incited the crowd with their primal rhythms and hedonistic enjoinders (and big smiles), getting them bobbing, bouncing, and, hey now, even dancing outright.

Opener Jim Bianco started out promising, and came highly (absurdly?) recommended by LA Weekly, who didn’t just compare him to Waits and Costello but pronounced him their equal. Not so much. Bianco led his band through raspy cabaret and twisted tales, some cleverly written, but as the set wore on, the freshness faded fast.

Out in the front room, Austin singer/songwriter Chris McFarland deserved more of an audience for his stripped-down set, highlighted by a ramshackle, deeply felt spin on Leonard Cohen’s “Chelsea Hotel #2.” He plays a combustible style of folk-rock that allows breathing space for temper and tenderness. His latest album, Given, is available online.