Review: Doveman at Mercury Lounge

Did you know that the door at Mercury Lounge from the bar to the main space squeaks? Every single time. Rrrrrrrrt.

This gives you an impression just how quiet it was for Doveman last night. I walked in a bit late, giving up seeing Mommy and Daddy at Cake Shop. I did, however, speak with the actual mommy of Daddy for a bit. Take that irony and eat it. So after having some of that delicious pizza there, I went over to the Merc show.

As I was saying… I walked in a bit late, and was just floored by what I saw.

There were a few people standing in the back, but mostly everyone was sitting to the side or right on the floor. It was hard not disturbing the stillness in the room as I found my own seat. And then. More quiet. I mean, they were playing, but I can’t remember the last time I witnessed something so fragile… so intensely still. It was like some Taoist contradiction, moving at an incredible speed, yet remaining still. The quintet played so reserved, so calculated, that they could have been reading sheet music. There were times when the banjo would be resting for a few dozen measures, come in briefly for a moment, and the exit the piece. The last song had a few chaotic nuances that were quite unexpected and just incredible. I was floored, I tell you. And not just because I was sitting on it.

Claude Debussy once said, “Music is the silence between the notes.” Doveman was able to capture it within them as well, packing so much into so little.