"Are you Jeff DeRoche?" she asks. "No," I lie, hoping she'll go away and leave me to reviewing the band. But she doesn't.
"Yes you are," she says. "What do you think of Sugartown?" I don't want to tell her. In fact, this is what I've been dreading about writing a local, opening-band review column: What if I really don't like what I'm hearing?
"They're fine," I lie. But I'm digressing like a motherfucker in my notebook, writing things like, "This song reminds me of the Cranberries, but I like the Cranberries a lot better...."
It's too bad, really, because Sugartown is fronted by a strong, promising musician named Andrea Wittgens. She plays keyboards well, and sings in a fine voice, though I can't help dwelling on two reference points above and beyond the Cranberries: Fiona Apple, whom I hate, for obvious reasons; and Vonda Shepard, that lady who plays piano and sings on Ally McBeal.
"I think they're funky and folky, but not too folky," says the audience member at my right. "They kind of remind me of Tori Amos," she says. I disagree, but I don't tell her. I think Sugartown ultimately sounds like watered-down Fiona Apple--which is a good thing in one sense, because Fiona Apple is so off her rocker that it's maddening to listen to her. But then, watered-down is never really a compliment, is it?
The first song is jammy. Guitarist Vincent Gates plays with a wah pedal, an accessory that is rarely beneficial to a person's guitar sound, but he seems more invested during this song than at any other point. For the rest of the show he is nearly passionless, like a rock and roll studio musician attempting to compliment a piano-bar songwriter.
The other two band members leave the same impression on me. Though they're all obviously competent, the arrangements are unremarkable, lacking depth and fluidity. Drummer Dan Black is too straightforward, playing a constant, lazy 4/4. Bassist Andrew Scaglione is a bit spunkier than the rest of the gang, but Wittgens' playing is grounded enough that it doesn't require a bass player. He seems auxiliary.
Sugartown is definitely Wittgens' band. She has a nice falsetto, and a clear, strong mid-range that could be propulsive, though she takes no risks. I want her to play without a band, letting the focus be on the quality of her voice, lyrics, and simple keyboard arrangements.
The second song showcases her voice, but as the rhythm gets tighter among the players, I can't get Vonda Shepard out of my head, or the thought that this band would do well at a happy hour somewhere.
The show doesn't pick up much from there. The 28-member audience is enthusiastic, and, to Sugartown's credit, I doubt that all 28 of them are friends of the band. But the entire event seems dispirited. Wittgens, less frightening than Fiona Apple and less cerebral than someone like Joe Jackson, falls flat a good deal of the time.
The biggest mistake she makes is to let her band inform her sound. For all of her obvious talent, she seems relatively unmoved, and her band seems relatively uninvested. Sugartown doesn't feel collaborative, and Wittgens isn't singular enough at any point to carry the show on her own. I want her to rock out. I am tempted to give her some LSD and lock her in a room after telling her that life is really fucked up, etc.
