The good stuff can be ingested in ponderous quantity without satiation, but like anything else, you can have too much of a good thing. After a while, the regular concertgoer inevitably craves something fresh and new, something different, something that they've never heard before. And even though they still do love the music, they have perhaps grown a bit disillusioned with it all, sometimes even entertaining notions of film or television.

Diagnosis: Jadedmusicfanitis. Prescription: the Motet.

The funny part is that if you asked me to point directly to the thing about the Motet that gives them that fresh edge I couldn't do it easily. I do know it has a lot to do with drums. The Motet presents as a funk band with jazz tendencies and a deep-rooted love for worldbeat percussion. During their shows, the entire band will trade their guitar, bass, keyboard, and horn for drums of various kinds, and bang out intricate rhythmic arrangements that borrow from all corners of the globe. Not since the afrobeat revolution of Fela Kuti has hand percussion been so masterfully woven into a modern music ensemble. The Motet's drum trips stirred something in me that had been dormant since my high school marching band days, something honest, simple, and rooted in the most basic of human functions: a love for drumming and rhythm.

Any anthropologist will tell you that drums play an important role in the community rites and rituals of many cultures on earth. An evening with the Motet is no exception. Their show suggests that the concert is just the most recent incarnation of a ritual cultural celebration, and unlike most other bands touring today, they honor these roots directly through their drumming. As would befit a band amassed in the Melting Pot, the Motet's drum trips are not limited to one musical tradition; you will hear Brazilian, African, Carribean, Cajun/Zydeco, and Modern American influence in their well-crafted percussive adventures. While that ethnomusicology elective you wish you'd taken might have provided some academic insight into the Motet's music, there will hardly be time for study while the show is happening. A word to the wise: wear comfortable shoes and workout clothes. The Motet will leave you with no choice but to shake your ass.

The Motet took the stage at Harper's Ferry on November 20th with Jon Stewart and Hope Clayburn, wind player and vocalist from Deep Banana Blackout. Thus, the night was pushed solidly in the direction of the Funk. Hope's booming baritone sax gave the music a thick low end reminiscent of Ben Eller's work with Galactic, and her flute playing quoted the smoother 70's jazz/funk tradition of Yusef Lateef, Herbie Mann, and Rahsaan Roland Kirk. Kit drummer Dave Watts pushed things from his end, as he is apt to do, often working the band into a frenzied crescendo with nothing but his snare drum. Watts and percussionist Scott Messersmith collaborated on forming the rhythmic backbone for the ensemble. While kit drummers and percussionists often compete for control of the groove or let loose a frenzy of 64th notes that become too muddled to hear, Watts and Messersmith played lines that were complex and intricate, yet at the same time highly complimentary. This is a credit to the two not just as drummers, but as musicians.

Having just lost Jans Ingber, vocalist and percussionist, many tunes in the Motet's repertoire that depended on Ingber's vocal lead may have lay inaccessible to the remaining crew. The band took advantage of the new ensemble's structure and turned songs into extended improvisatory grooves laden, of course, with heavy percussion. Soloing privileges were passed around freely from keyboardist Greg Raymond to guitarist Mike Tiernan to Stewart on sax, and bassist Garrett Sayers (formerly of the Miracle Orchestra). Sayers, a new addition to the band, was probably the most impressive soloist of the bunch that night. He proved to be just as rhythmically inclined as either drummer on his bass, laying down highly percussive solos complete with elaborate syncopation, that were also drenched in the Funk. He was locked into the groove from the first measure of the first song and bridged the critical gap between rhythm and melody as to ensure that the groove would propagate properly.

Before the show, Watts, Raymond, and Tiernan likened the Motet's playing to a conversation among six people (Hope would make it seven that night). Their set sounded very much like a communication. The Motet escaped a dangerous trap that too many disciples of the Funk fall into; they maintained the groove and at the same time they listened to each other. Bands who make a practice of 'jamming' or 'playing in the groove' will sometimes find themselves concentrating on matters external to the other members of the band. The members of the Motet, however, maintained focus on each other throughout. At times, certain members would drop out, step back, and listen to what the rest of the band was doing before re-entering the conversation and adding their two cents. This allowed parts to fit together very well, and it also gave the band unbelievable stamina. The first point at which the stage quieted was about 50 minutes after the start of the set. It was necessary. Not for the band, but for the crowd. A body can only dance for so long before it needs a break, and there were some marathon dancers present that night.

But like I said before, I can't easily pin down exactly what the Motet does that makes them stand out. They have grown from the same soil as many of the bands I listen to, and are definitely part of the so-called jamband community, as evidenced by the night's impromptu special guests Drew Sayers on saxophone late in the set, and Andrew Barr (the Slip) on drums, adding a third layer of percussion towards the middle of the set. In fact, many musicians from the local scene were in attendance at Harper's for the Motet's set, which to me, seems like a testament to their skill and appeal to those who truly listen. So yes, the Motet hits hard on that level, but they also are a highly accessible source of sonic energy, very good for dancing.

I think that if I had to name why the Motet stands out it would certainly stem from the drumming: they borrow directly from and pay homage to the cultural rituals that celebrate life and community, the cultural ceremonies that have been so integral to the human experience throughout history. The Motet's music and show fosters a sense of this community, this modern version of the tribal drumming that once accompanied harvest feasts or weddings. The music itself is highly conscious of the crowd, its community. In fact, the Motet's music would not thrive without a dancing troupe of revelers. The players attempt to blend those that create art and those that watch art being created. This is the band that will sometimes close their shows with a New Orleans style parade of drums that winds around the entire venue and might even spill into the streets. This is the band that hosted drumming workshops for concertgoers at Berkfest this past summer. This is the band that uses music as a celebration of community and humanity at large.

The Motet is successful in all these pursuits because of the honest and pure sounds of the drum. They remind us that one of the most powerful unifying forces in the world is rhythm and beat. This, to me, is the wonder of the Motet's choice to focus on drumming, and this is what separates the Motet from those that rely on their ultra-modern instruments, effects, electronic gizmos, and digital processors from a stage that sits above the level of the crowd. With the Motet, the ancient ritual of music celebrates the people that are brought together by it.

I suppose it's ironic that I found something fresh and new in this ancient formula. To be precise, the Motet borrows just as much from more recent modern musical traditions as it does from traditional drumming, but with so many bands striving for the cutting edge or new frontier, to have a group of musicians revert to the root of it all is in some ways the most revolutionary. For the music fan, therefore, who has been looking for that spark that they remember from the early days of their listening careers, the Motet's appeal is counterintuitive, yet wholly effective. The answer is not to look forward to the realm of electronica and postmodernity, but back, way back, to the days when music and community were inseparable, to the time where people were brought together by stretched skins pounding in unison. For the jaded music fan of today's age, the Motet is just what the doctor ordered.

-David Taus
-Photos by DJ 1ey