REVIEW: Don’t judge a hippie by his cover

REX COLIN MITCHELL

 

Before last week, I had never heard of Kalai. I had heard my granola-girl friend say she was excited that he was coming to campus to play a show, but, other than that, I didn’t know anybody who knew who he was. But, deciding that since we don’t often get people coming to campus to play, he was worth seeing.

I must admit, I was pretty bummed when the guy at the door didn’t care about my press pass, so I had to pay for me and my woman to get in. Seriously, I didn’t want to pay 13 bucks a ticket to see a guy that I had never heard of. I half-expected him to be some hippie-indie-folksy dude that sang about love and peace, and went out back to smoke his pot where the Mormon kids at the show couldn’t see. Let’s just say, I was pleasantly surprised.

The show was opened by a band whose name I didn’t catch, two young guys with blond hair, stylish clothes and guitars, playing sappy love songs. As this is the fad recently, I wasn’t surprised that that’s all they sang, but I did wish that the one guy wouldn’t go so far out of his way to sing all breathy and wispy. Seriously man, too much is too much. They were an average opening act, the kind that doesn’t leave you much to complain about but doesn’t leave you wanting to see them again, either.

Then Kalai came on in his sturdy tan-colored work pants and awful, green plaid shirt. His large beard was pretty awesome, but the crowning achievement was definitely the chums that held his glasses on his face. I was thinking that either this guy was good enough to not have to care how he looked, or he just wanted to appeal to all the pseudo-hippies out there.

Once he started playing, it became apparent that he was definitely good enough to not have to care about his looks. His odd clothes were matched by his off-the-wall personality, his natural ability to be himself onstage and have every person in the room rolling on the floor in laughter. His between song commentaries ranged from stories about going to early morning seminary, to “Dr. Who” references, and could be described by his frequently used comment, “All right, stop screwing around and play some songs.”

Some of my favorite of his comments were:

Speaking of falafel, “I don’t be knowin’ other people’s foods! This is America!”

Telling the story of how a girl dumped him after he farted on her head,

“If you see a chick at five in the morning, and she looks dope to you, you should marry that.”

Speaking of rumors, he said, “Girls start them, guys don’t care about them, but they will use them to get girls.”

“My beard is like my face-Brita,” — water gets purified as he pours it through his beard.

You probably now think that this guy was more of a comedian than a musician. I would have thought the same, until he started playing some music. Kalai is not just some wacky Hawaiian guy who plays some simple songs and tells jokes. Once he started playing his guitar, I was entranced. I don’t think he knows what it’s like to play simple songs. He plays finger-style guitar, but rocking-harder-than-you-would-imagine finger picking. His left-hand chops were great as well, ripping out melodies lightning fast all with his thumb wrapped, due to a problem he’s had since birth.

I was already sold on this guy’s musical genius, and then he opened his mouth to sing. It was awe inspiring. He has the kind of voice that you could just sit and listen to for hours and not get bored. One minute he was doing an excellent reggae voice a la Bob Marley, the next he was sounding like B.B. King singing the blues — with guitar skills to match — and then he’s belting out high melodies in a minor key, sounding like Middle Eastern vocals that you would expect to hear walking by a mosque. It was all eclectic and very diverse, but everything he played sounded in place and not odd at all.

Kalai is one of the best all-around musicians you can see. Period. This guy should not be touring doing small concerts in Logan, and at Timpview High — where he’s playing next — he should be playing sold-out shows in the world’s largest cities and having his albums go platinum. But if all that happened, it wouldn’t be the same experience that I had the other night, having my premature judgments proven wrong and finding a new favorite musician playing to a small crowd in the Eccles Conference Center, of all places.

I walked into the concert begrudgingly paying the discount price for tickets, but I left having bought a CD and a Kalai sticker that I will proudly display on my car.

 

— Colin Mitchell is a junior music performance major from Vernon, Utah. If you want him to review your band’s show, email him at rex.colin.mitchell@aggiemail.usul.edu.