MUSIC REVIEW: Chesterfield Kings, Everdream

By Jen Graney on November 14, 2008

So last night I bashed up my knees after a fall in an alleyway, six-pack in hand (heels are a hazard), and everything hurt when I headed over to the WXXI studios to see the Chesterfield Kings perform for the last installment of the OnStage series. The producers hoped for a wild turnout, and they got it.

Singer Greg Provost charmed the cameras from the get-go, executing a high-kick into one of them, and then later staring down another. Mike Boise (drums) looked just ecstatic to be playing (a smile seemed always to tease at his lips), and lead guitarist Paul Morabito's toy-soldier stance (while he tore through his solos), lent to the playful, but no-nonsense air.

There was a little start and stop, and some instrument switch-ups (we had to leave during the second break), but if nothing else it's always fun to be in the crowd at these tapings. It's like a live show, but not. In-between song banter was nixed by Provost, who had a fuck-it, it'll-just-get-cut-anyway attitude. I liked when he kicked the mic stand around on the floor, over by Morabito's pedals, and Morabito kicked it back toward him. Antics like that made the show.

Later Thursday night, The Jukebox in Spencerport was - believe it or not -- a wilder scene. The building oozed something wicked and heavy. It was Lowkey, a tight Rochester metal band worthy of larger venues, but with a modest crowd of its own at this spacious, well-appointed club that used to be Josie's, with an all-country format.

I spotted Rose Mack from Everdream before she took the stage - her flowing gothic dress and leather bodice, heavy eye makeup, and black drawn-on tear made her hard to miss. Her look played up Everdream's theatrical side, and her vocals (she's trained in opera) soared over the heavy guitars and eerie, pretty keyboard. When the band launched into a cover of "Phantom of the Opera" I worried it was gonna get too cheesy for me. But as I tilted my head up in the bathroom (to put some red-eye drops in), I heard Mack hit this crazy, glass-shattering shriek of a note. At the same time, I noticed the doll-and sunflowers-covered wallpaper border (presumably from Josie's days) at the top of the ceiling. It was like worlds colliding. Really, no matter the song or the atmosphere, that kind of a voice demands respect.

As we left, we noted the motel handily located next door. It would've been a welcome stop for me and my sore knees...except after all the music and excitement, I kind of forgot they hurt.