Forget April in Paris, try January in Slambovia

By DAVE MADELONI

Midway through John Coster's opening set at The Iron Horse Saturday night, his percussionist Jeff Hendricks, asked no one in particular, "Where exactly is Slambovia?"

After a moment of awkward silence, the affable Coster answered, "Slambovia is gonna be right here tonight."

A half-hour later on this snowy night, the hallowed music hall was transformed into that strangely whimsical/mystical place by a friendly foursome from Sleepy Hollow, N.Y., with the simple name Gandalf Murphy And The Slambovian Circus Of Dreams.

Those gathered sought the kind of solace, communal enchantment and warmth that this an indie band provides through its amiable persona and groovy '60s slant on pop-folk.

Frontman Joziah Longo took the stage looking eccentrically dapper in his trademark derby, mourning coat, red tie and torn-at-the-knee jeans and quickly promised a good show for the fans who braved treacherous roads to reach Slambovia.

They opened with "Sunday In The Rain" from their recent double-disc "Flapjacks From The Sky" which featured a gorgeous slide solo from Sharkey McEwen, followed by a spirited version of "Circus of Dreams," a tune that Longo acknowledged was a "tip of the hat to those early folk pioneers, The Who."

One of the many endearing qualities of the humble quartet (which includes Tink Lloyd on accordion, cello and flute, and drummer Tony Zuzulo) is that they unabashedly wear their many influences on their musical sleeves -- their debut CD is titled, appropriately enough, "A Good Thief Tips His Hat."

Over the course of two buoyant sets, the band continually referenced the likes of The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Hank Williams and the Beatles by weaving snippets of those icons' songs into their own.

Accusing the Circus of being derivative is like charging Mario Andretti for driving too fast. They persistently pay homage to their musical heroes through their own catchy compositions, and they assimilate those inspirations admirably.

Most bands that come to the Iron Horse save sing-alongs for the end of their sets, but this outfit is fond of bending the rules. Two songs into the show, Longo was already priming the crowd to join in on "Everyone Has A Broken Heart." Shortly thereafter, "The Yodel Song" developed into a hilarious yodeling lesson that had a good percentage of the assembled warbling "Lay-dee-lee-lo-dee-lay" or variations thereof, much to the obvious delight of the band.

"Transcendent!" exclaimed Longo, with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek.

A perpetually smiling Tink declared that she is not in the band just because she is married to the lead singer and insinuated she had been about to hook-up with another group until Longo got on his knees and begged her to join The Circus. This Sonny-and-Cher-like banter led into "I Wish," a likely-to-be-autobiographical song about a bumbling husband with good intentions.

The tender "Baby Jane" was introduced as a "sissy song, dedicated to the invincible spirit of women" that was played to a crowd that was hushed silent after Longo explained that whenever an audience member talks through this song, the band hands them a copy of their live CD, so that they will feel bad about what they missed.

The self-effacing frontman mused about band members being ADD before son Chen ambled onstage to play bass on a hyper take of "Glide." The first set climaxed with "Moondog House" which sprinkled in a few lines of Jim Morrison's "Five To One."

At the break, Sharkey was never quite able to make it back to the dressing room, instead signing autographs, posing for photos, and chatting with folks -- indicative of the obvious comfort between band and fan in Slambovia. The kindly, off-beat group -- which will be returning to The Roots On The River Fest this June in Bellows Falls -- eschews the usual barrier between performer and fan. Their sincerity, charm, and relentlessly positive vibe invites an unusual bond with audience members, who are quite comfortable approaching band members and interacting like old friends.

The second set had many highlights -- "Genius" mixed Hendrix's "If Six Was Nine" and a few lines from John Lennon's "I Am The Walrus"; the catchy "Sullivan Lane" was reminiscent of the Kinks in their prime; and the epic "Talking To The Buddha" was as dynamic and moving as ever.

Perhaps the most gratifying moment of the evening was the encore. "Never Fit" was described as an "alienation song" that an anonymous Longo and Sharkey played at an open mike on this very stage a few years back, singing lines like "Yeah I don't believe/That we ever fit in anyway/We never fit in anywhere/Only here, and we know here is not perceived reality."

Now they were back for a triumphant headlining slot in front of an enthusiastic full house.

When the show ended, attendees exchanged grins and shook hands with the band members who had gathered by the front door, strolling out of Slambovia and into the snowy streets of Northampton. For the previous two hours, the genial misfits of The Circus really did fit in.

Dave Madeloni writes a weekly music column for the Arts Entertainment section. He can be reached at madeloni@aol.com.