"The Jefferson Starship, the Surrealistic Omnibus: 4 sets covering 4 decades," read the box on the B. B. King calendar. Led by Paul Kantner and Marty Balin, the Starship hit the stage for its first set just minutes after 8:00pm and closed the elaborate celebration almost four hours later. Although no one can fault the effort or the retrospective aim of the Starship, this performance might have been a case when less would have been more.
Through the course of the evening, a few things became clear: Kantner can still lead a fiery band; Balin can still wail; Slick is irreplaceable - despite the competence of the sometimes too bubbly Diana Mangano; and, on balance, Kantner's and Balin's best work was with the Airplane, a band whose whole was much better than its parts. None of the numerous Airplane spinoffs matched the artistic or commercial success of their progenitor, whose urgency and vitality led to 5 Top Twenty albums (3 in the Top Ten) between 1967 and 1969.
Organized chronologically, the first set featured the music of the Airplane, with specific focus on what many consider their finest lp, Surrealistic Pillow. It was a set of highlights. Song after song proved durable: "She Has Funny Cars," "Today," "D. C. B. A. - 25," "Martha," and more. "3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds" raced as feverishly as ever, driven by Kantner's rhythm guitar and Slick Aguilar's stirring lead work; "Won't You Try/ Saturday Afternoon" emphasized its raga rock tinge; and "Plastic Fantastic Lover," Balin's serenade to the television, had a chunky funk rhythm pushed forward with the singer's maracas and, though Jack Casady was missed, solid enough bass lines from Chris Smith's keyboards.
While the set had to include "Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit," the band might have found a substitute for "Lather." In an impossible spot, Mangano lacked Grace Slick's sense of irony, and although she reshaped the vocal lines slightly, the performance fell short. Mangano, however, was effective throughout the evening in assuming Slick's supporting vocal parts.
The band brought the set to a close with the late Dino Valente's "Let's Get Together," a song written in 1963 but not a major hit until the Youngbloods' re-release in 1969. Dino's son Jolie took the stage and traded lead verses with Marty in a spirited and refreshing climax. Thankfully, the evening, for the most part, shunned nostalgic gimmickry, despite the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love. The stage was bare with the exception of a hex sign leaning on the bass drum and sunflowers tied to Mangano's microphone stand; at a couple of points, unnecessary swirling lights tried to add atmosphere. The evening's emphasis, however, remained on the music.
Marty Balin, one of rock's finest voices, then commanded the stage for an approximately forty minute solo set. Beginning with the soulful "Comin' Back to Me" and the heartfelt "With Your Love," the balladeer's set quickly grew tired, however, from the similar tones of songs like "Run Away" and the blandly retrospective "Summer of Love" from his 1991 solo cd Better Generation, "The summer of love was something special..." The set concluded with "Hearts," which with its only mildly interesting ending jam made me feel as if I were in a Las Vegas lounge. Despite a still powerful and moving voice, Balin alone lacks the angst of Kantner and the ironic humor that his partnership with Kantner and Slick added. Too often his soulfulness veers into sentimentality. When Kantner returned to the stage, he expressed some envy at not being able to write like Balin, but then added, "Marty has written some of the corniest songs, but he believes them."
Beginning his solo set with an electric version of "Kisses Sweeter than Wine," which was more sexual than sentimental, and then "The Ballad of Carlos Montoya," Kantner provided an immediate antidote to Balin's syrup. In a well-paced and varied set, Kantner featured songs from Sunfighter (his 1971 release with Grace Slick), and Baron von Tollboth & The Chrome Nun (1973, with Slick and David Freiberg - the title of which comes from Freiberg's nicknames for his then collaborators). The strong set implicitly called for a reassessment of these perhaps overlooked works. From the Biblical overtones of "Harp Tree Lament," which featured the still beautiful voice of Freiberg, to the hard driving rhythm of "Million" and the mid-tempo rocker "Sketches of China," which featured the stellar guitar of Aguila, Kantner was solidly rough and potent.
Before Balin and Mangano returned to the stage, Aguilar had a chance to lead the band through an instrumental version of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," which seemed unnecessary, uneventful, and too flashy, especially given the exquisite lead work that Aguilar demonstrated throughout the evening.
The Starship set featured muscular rockers and favorites from Dragon Fly ("All Fly Away," "Caroline") and Red Octopus ("Fast Buck Freddie") and an inspired and irresistible version of "Miracles." Surrounded by sturdy riff rockers, Balin's majestic ballad seemed plaintive and hopeful, warm and urgent, rather than purely sentimental or "corny," as Kantner might say. While the crowd-pleasing "Ride the Tiger" closed the set, much of the Starship segment seemed redundant as several of the songs seemed similar, lacking the inventiveness of those featured in the evening's first set. The encore, a spirited version of "Volunteers," underscored this point, reminding us of the Airplane's authority and superiority.
All in all, it was an eventful night, at times absolutely compelling and inspired. However, I can't help feeling that a shorter, more selective set would have left me more satisfied, even wanting more.