For some reason, Gov't Mule is often grouped with the jam-band movement that emerged in the nineties. The chronology makes sense: the band was formed during that decade and improvisation remains central to its identity. Yet that label has always felt incomplete. At its core, Gov't Mule is a rock band, albeit one with an unusually broad musical vocabulary and a deep knowledge of the traditions from which it draws.
Spend a few minutes examining the band's ever-expanding list of cover songs and the picture becomes clearer. Warren Haynes approaches American music with the curiosity of a collector and the enthusiasm of a lifelong student. Blues, soul, hard rock, psychedelia, jazz and country all find their way into the repertoire, whether through borrowed material or original compositions. The result is a concert that feels less concerned with genre boundaries than with exploring the connections between them.
Which makes the seated format all the more puzzling. Once again, the audience spends the evening confined to chairs despite music that practically invites movement. Gov't Mule's grooves are built to be felt physically, and there are numerous moments throughout the concert when the urge to stand up seems almost collective.
To be fair, the set leans more heavily toward the band's slower and more exploratory side than toward its harder-rocking material. That may be the only real surprise of the evening. Not that the performance lacks intensity. Haynes remains a captivating guitarist, capable of moving from lyrical phrasing to searing lead work without sacrificing either emotion or precision.
Among the highlights are a superb rendition of Jeff Beck's "Freeway Jam" and a particularly potent "Thorazine Shuffle." For the encore, the band is joined by former Whitesnake guitarist Bernie Marsden, whose appearance adds another welcome voice to the evening's extended guitar conversations.
The music itself leaves little to complain about. The seating arrangement is another matter. The first time I saw Gov't Mule, at the Bataclan, the audience reacted instinctively to the grooves, the riffs and the improvisations. Tonight, much of that energy remains trapped in place. This music deserves room to breathe, and perhaps more importantly, room to move. This isn't classical music. This isn't Sunday mass. This is rock and roll.
