Great shows usually aren’t only remarkable auditory events. They tickle all five senses. The Macrotones’ debut show at All Asia in Cambridge was one of those full sensory experiences.
It’s Saturday evening, March 1, and I’m coming back from a grad school interview. I’m really looking forward to relaxing and thinking about something else than my uncertain educational future. Hopefully, the music will grab my attention and not let it go. The little I know about Afrobeat leads me to be optimistic, although when the songs get too long and repetitive, my mind usually starts wandering.
Taste. Drinks are ordered during the opening band's performance. A couple of Berklee kids entertain us with some pleasant songs while we sip on the traditional scorpion bowl. Chances are, scorpion bowls are the alcoholic version of the fortune cookie: a purely Western invention.
Visual. The Macrotones come on stage. It’s a big and diverse group of people. There’s no one style to define them. Some younger guys and some older guys, some preppier, some grungier, some intense and some chill. The keyboard player grabs a melodica and initiates the set with a middle-eastern sounding tune. Percussion, winds and guitars follow, all in solid rhythm.
Aural. Soon the instruments take a life of their own, and it seems like they are using the musicians more than the reverse. The bass is telling everyone how to behave, while the sax insists on making his point, but the trombone will hear none of it. The guitar and keyboard are discreet but once in a while show that they were just being modest and that they belong in the spotlight. The bongos settle the other instruments' differences and transform this eclectic group into a happy but lively family. Tambourines and other small percussion instruments are the small children of this ensemble. Soon enough, the Macrotones tap into your inner rhythm addiction. You know exactly how the music goes and you feel like a distant cousin at a family reunion.
Tactile. All Asia gets crowded and the ear-plugged bartender is having trouble keeping up with orders. The unrelenting rhythms compel a dozen people to start jittering in front of the stage. Soon the jittery legs become dancing legs and dancing arms.
Olfactory. A good show involves an optimal amount of sweat and spilled beer. The musicians were certainly sweating more than the showgoers, coming off of wintery Cambridge streets. The musicians' energy heated up the room, and made it reek of excitement.
Time. Some call it the sixth sense. It went by quickly. The show seemed too short, but the Macrotones' kept it sweet.
