It was a time-warping evening as
summer floated away in Eugene. Thievery Corporation feels like they
have been around forever but keep coming up with new sounds. Edward
Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros are relatively new, but sound so
timeless it could be hard to pinpoint in which decade they toured. Together, the unlikely duo made for billing with a richness that Eugene rarely sees.
Whether you know it or not, there's an
82% chance you've made out to the warm, spacey beats of Thievery
Corporation. Most dedicated listeners will scoff at the mention of
“Lebanese Blonde” becoming popular from Garden State and
for that reason, I was glad to hear it played as the second song. One
of the difficulties of putting on a live show with Thievery's
repertoire is the the diversity of the musicians that have
contributed. It was a special treat, then, to find that they had a
number of vocalists and MCs tagging along to make the live versions
just as good as the album versions. Two female singers joined in (most unofficially dubbed 'pink tights' and 'peacock pants') sounding more like fallen angels than humans. “La Femme Parallel” was
gorgeous and sounded both foreign and safe. “Vampires” and “Radio
Retaliation” reminded even the stoners on the grass that there was intelligence behind the sleekness.
Once the sun had set, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros took the stage. If getting everyone together from Thievery Corporation on tour is akin to the logistic nightmare of taking the Brady Bunch on a road trip, getting the Zeros all in one spot is the ultimate hat trick. Jamming and hugging since 2007(ish), vocalist Alex Ebert created the alter-ego/persona of Edward Sharpe while in rehab. The revolving cast of a dozen musicians that make up the Zeros include “Crash” Richard, Christian Letts, Seth Ford-Young, Josh Collazo, Orpheo McCord and Nora Kirkpatrick (who, savvy culturalists will identify as Esther, Dwight's girlfriend on NBC's The Office). The voice that holds the show together, though, was Jade Castrinos. Bundled in an oversized, fuzzy jacket and a smile that wrinkles her nose, Castrinos's rich voice played duet with Ebert as easily as it joined the choir in backing up the others when it was their time to shine. Since Edward Sharpe is as fictional as Ebert's undershirt, it dawned on me as “frontman” Ebert humbly went to offer a verse of “I Don't Want to Pray” to the audience, a trumpet, a bass and other various Zeros, that maybe he only borrows the namesake attributed to him. Taking requests from the audience and trading smiles and high-fives across the stage, it seemed like anyone could take a turn wearing the name. The bright lights and psychadelic background of the show, the coeds and aging baby boomer hippies dancing together, the current in the air of fall, for a sweet moment, we were all Magnetic Zeros.