When the band is Béla Fleck and the Flecktones, however, this is not the case. When they visited Northampton's Calvin Theatre last week, their admirers included guys wearing Dockers, girls in embroidered hemp getup, more than a few middle-aged men with greyish ponytails, and children. The band's mixed audience reflects its unclassifiable sound, a blend of bluegrass, funk, jazz and rock, that has puzzled music taxonomists since the band's 1990 debut.
Still more impressive than Béla Fleck and the Flecktones' unique genre is its consistent success, which may be attributed to the incredible talent, creativity and good character of its members. Fleck, known as the world's best banjo player, revolutionized the role of the banjo by pushing it over the fence between bluegrass and popular music. Percussionist Futureman, rejecting the practice of putting the drummer and his set behind the frontman, plays a one-of-a-kind "drumitar," a virtual drum set electronically arranged on the frame of a guitar. The work of bassist Victor Lemonte Wooten rarely dissolves into a customary supporting role, and saxophonist Jeff Coffin is likely to put down his sax-mid-song-and grab his clarinet or flute, acting as the band's fifth and sixth members. Without the typical scene-stealing amalgam of vocalist and lead guitar, each member of Béla Fleck and the Flecktones enjoys a considerable chunk of the spotlight throughout each song, which makes for a thrilling live experience.
Though the band regularly tours up to a grueling 200 dates a year, it has yet to go on hiatus. "I made a commitment to myself to keep the band going," Fleck said. "I didn't foresee that we would be at harmony for so long. Even the crew stayed together."
At their Northampton performance, the harmony among band members rang true. During one of the first tunes, "Big Country," Wooten and Coffin launched into an impressive improvisation whose nimble shifts of phrase sounded more like a solo jam than a duet. As if this show of spontaneous communication wasn't impressive enough, in the second set, Fleck and Wooten plucked each other's instruments with one hand while working their own fingerboards with the other. The stunt, similar to Coffin's feat of playing two saxophones at once, was Laurel and Hardy-esque, but the band's gimmicky hijinks were surrounded by brillant layers of sound that should be taken quite seriously. Fleck's moving-foundation plucking patterns, Wooten's scale-hopping funk licks, Coffin's solid melodies and each of Futureman's fingers mastering its own drum are strata that shape a striking landscape of sound.
The only negative aspect to exceptional talent is that it threatens an excess of showy solos-sometimes it's more pleasant to let the melody develop for a few minutes rather than being constantly impressed. Every song shouldn't be obligated to highlight each musician. Plenty of audience members, however, ate it up. One gangly man in head-to-toe denim who gave each solo a misty-eyed standing ovation clearly appreciated the repeated virtuosity.
"I want the music to communicate to people, but it doesn't have to be a pop song with a back beat or a really simple melody to do that. I think people are really smart, and you can play to their intelligence rather than to their stupidity," Fleck expressed.
Although the Flecktones have won five Grammys, they seem unconcerned with popular appeal. "Some things do have a commercial sound but some commercial stuff sounds good to us. We never did anything that we didn't like. I think there was a little bit of pressure from the record companies to package things in a commercial sort of way, but how commercial could you make a band like us?"