BENEVENTO/MATHIS/DILLON | 03.11 | PHILLY
By Team JamBase Mar 30, 2007 • 12:00 am PDT

Words & Images by: Jake Krolick
Download this show here.
Marco Benevento, Mike Dillon & Reed Mathis
03.11.07 :: Tritone :: Philadelphia, PA
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Benevento barked into his mic as the trio ripped Pink Floyd’s “Fearless” wide open. The intro was drawn and quartered by Benevento’s slow, hard key pounding. He twisted the dials of his organ-mounted effects pedals sending any remnants of the original tune into oblivion. Mathis latched onto an early evening pocket, eventually pulling the trio back onto Floyd’s majestic path.
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Dillon chalked up his hands on the tabla while Benevento added a touch of fuzz to the keys. His Phantom of the Opera persona was amplified with majestic moves for Radiohead’s “2+2=5.” Reed played with a Humphrey Bogart swagger as Benevento and Dillon exchanged ragtag notes, deconstructing the song into a high-hat crashing honky tonk. Odd communication poured from Benevento’s kooky keys. His outstretched arm engaged a sampler that flung the evening into new territory. The toys on his rig included an orange front-end loader that read, “I love getting dirty,” and a smiling, glowing-eyed relaxation device. Both were equipped with knobs, which allowed for ample tweaking and freaking that made stars emerge in the twilight.
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They paused briefly before starting a slow, slinky version of “She’s Not There,” which had an intense Vanilla Fudge feel different from The Zombies‘ original. Mathis’s bass jumped at a chance to slug it out with the Zombies and trudged over it with some weighty thug boots. Benevento lit up his second tweaker toy of the night and the space around us fell out of existence. The trio traded the Rod Argent tune for the Beatles as they blew through “I Saw Her Standing There.” Funky little riffs spewed out before the three amigos dipped into a deep limbo. After a first set like that there was not much left holding us to the earth.
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Dillon had enough of the light and sneered his way back to the darkness. Mathis’s bouncing head carried us into a new era as Benevento played 1920’s speakeasy piano. Liquor was poured, the cops were clueless, and those who weren’t here were missing out. Local sax marvel Elliot Levin joined the melodious troop with a sax and flute in hand to hurl us off to something tribal and old, something ripped from the free-form space that resonated like Thelonious Monk. With a honk and a toot, the mood was wiped clean as Levin carried the group into a be-bop strut.
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Benevento sent us out with the words, “You’re not dying, you’re living.” They finished the evening with a very appropriate Carly Simon tune, “Nobody Does It Better.”
No encore needed.
JamBase | Philly
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