Pas d' Hommes & Bill Frisell : Tiny Desk Concert

It was early, maybe half an hour before Bill Frisell was set to arrive for his Tiny Desk Concert.

Already, a crowd here at NPR was buzzing around, waiting to hear Frisell make his magic and watching him set up an array of pedals. I've never seen anyone play guitar the way Frisell plays: What I hear is a man on a mission of discovery, where one chord, one note, one effect can send him in unplanned, uncharted directions. 

My palms felt sweaty the first time I saw him play. I know the stomp boxes he uses to make his loops — one of which is an Electro-Harmonix 16-second delay, a pedal I used to use in live performance in the 1980s. I know how fragile and sometimes unpredictable it can be, but it's the backbone of Frisell's bag of many tricks. With that equipment enhancing Frisell's nimble, deft fingerwork and uncanny sense of melody, it all adds up to a brilliant and disarmingly humble performer.

On this day, Frisell came to perform the music of John Lennon. Now 60, Frisell witnessed the birth of The Beatles and all that it meant to moving the world from cute, catchy songs to sonic adventures — a world of music we don't think twice about anymore. After all these years of hearing The Beatles' music, he's still discovering it, finding small phrases in the songs we know so well — "Nowhere Man," "In My Life" and "Strawberry Fields Forever."

And here comes the cliche, which is a living truth: Frisell makes these songs feel new again. I only wish Lennon himself could have heard his music through Frisell's beautiful reinventions. 

Set List: "Nowhere Man" "In My Life" "Strawberry Fields Forever" 

Credits: Producer and Editor: Bob Boilen; Videographer: Cristina Fletes; Audio Engineer: Kevin Wait; photo by: Mallory Benedict/NPR 

Lisa Hannigan : Tiny Desk Concert : Irresistible

When Irish singer Lisa Hannigan came to the NPR Music offices a few weeks ago, she not only brought along with her one of the most gorgeous voices we've heard; she was also one of the warmest guests we've welcomed.

Prior to kicking off her solo career, Hannigan made her name performing alongside Damien Rice. She just released her second album, the lush and beautiful Passenger.

Hannigan came to NPR on a rare day in which two different artists were set to perform behind the Tiny Desk, only an hour or so apart. Hannigan and her guitarist, John Smith, arrived early for her set, but rather than leave the office until it was her turn to perform, Hannigan stood quietly in the crowd, watching the first performance and graciously taking it all in.

As soon as her turn to perform arrived, Hannigan hopped up, barely able to contain a smile, onto the stool behind the Tiny Desk and immediately barreled into the bright ukulele tune "Knots" with virtually no sound check or warm-up. Her voice was astonishing as it bounded from hushed fragility to startling power; if I hadn't seen her sitting nearby only moments before, I never would have believed that she could sing like that with so little preparation. It was a mesmerizing performance, with Hannigan alternately whispering and howling her way through her songs, her eyes closed and her body rocking to the music.

When she finished, you could almost hear the whole room sigh with contentment — and a little sadness that it was over.

Set List

"Knots"

"Little Bird"

"Passenger"

Ben Williams And Sound Effect :Tiny Desk Concert

Ben Williams by Jati Lindsay

He's no Beltway insider. But in a way, jazz bassist Ben Williams owes his career to the politics of Washington, D.C. While growing up in the District, his mother, Bennie Barnes-Williams, worked for U.S. Rep. John Conyers. 

The Democrat from Michigan happens to be a huge jazz fan, as well as a noted advocate for the art form, and when the 6-year-old Ben accompanied his mother to her boss' well-appointed office one day, he stumbled upon a massive, curvaceous, wooden string instrument in the corner.

Fast-forward some 20-odd years, and Ben Williams is a rising jazz star. He won the 2009 Thelonious Monk Competition — held at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. — and (literally) went home to his mother with a recording contract for his debut album. 

State of Art was released this summer, and for a release party, he came down from his New York apartment to play two nights in D.C., stopping by the NPR Music offices in the process.

Williams and his band gave us two songs, both from the new record. 

The second was a calming, meditative ballad called "Dawn of a New Day," with the good manners of cloth on a drum head and tinkling piano. But the first tune — that's where the District comes bubbling up. First, the guitar (Gilad Hekselman) and drums (John Davis) lay down an aggressive, snappy foundation. The bass and electric keyboard (Christian Sands) fill out the polyrhythms. 

That groove, with its snappy hip-hop flavor, feels at home cruising down Georgia Avenue, then turning right on U Street NW, the historic African-American commercial district of Washington. 

Then the saxophone (Marcus Strickland) enters, and it's game on. On the day of our show, Williams' band arrived before he did — he'd come to town a day early to spend time with his family. 

So while Bennie was piloting her son down from Northeast D.C., the other musicians jocularly jammed on J Dilla beats and the saxophone riff from George Michael's "Careless Whisper."

(It was great, actually.) Once Ben Williams arrived, we rushed him upstairs, at which point he tuned up his bass and launched right into that first tune. Not surprisingly, it's called "Home."

Personnel Ben Williams, bass 

Marcus Strickland, saxophones 

Gilad Hekselman, guitar 

Christian Sands, keyboards 

John Davis, drums 

Set List

 

"Home"

"Dawn Of A New Day"