Younger Bands Give H.O.R.D.E. Festival Heart and Soul

In the mathematics of live rock, do four hours of good stuff mixed with two hours of preliminary filler and 90 minutes of directionless jam-band dithering from the headliner add up to good tidings on the summer touring festival circuit?

In the case of the H.O.R.D.E. festival, probably not. That patience-taxing jam-rock crew Thursday at the Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre was Blues Traveler, the New York City band that launched H.O.R.D.E. (Horizons of Rock Developing Everywhere) seven years ago and seems to be its indispensable mainstay. If continuing H.O.R.D.E. means having to sit through Blues Traveler every year, maybe it’s time to give it a rest--even though this year’s lineup deserves high marks for exposing worthy young veterans (Ben Harper, Barenaked Ladies, Fastball) and two new arrivals, Bran Van 3000 and Robert Bradley’s Blackwater Surprise, who turned in striking, delightful performances on the second stage.

With its distinctive, merrily whistling harmonica tone, philosophical lyrics and occasionally hooky tunes, Blues Traveler showed promise when H.O.R.D.E. first hit Southern California in 1994. But as a concert band, it has gone nowhere fast. Each player sped through winding jams in which everybody was in such a rush to get in enough notes that nobody bothered to provide the rhythmic, centering ballast needed to give a jam shape and coherence and a sense of purpose.

That’s where Ben Harper came in, with lean, emphatic numbers firmly rooted in blues traditionalism but sparked by a rocker’s fire. One of the few ‘90s arrivals who consistently grapples with big questions of spirituality and social justice, along with romantic troubles, Harper challenged the audience by opening alone with an acoustic guitar, singing in the gentle, meditative voice that carries some of his most emotionally telling songs. It was a gamble in an amphitheater, and the chatter during his most introspective moments suggested that he’d failed; but at least he didn’t shy from representing his full musical self. He could afford to take risks, since he had plenty of crowd-pleasing cards to play, including gritty lap-slide guitar workouts and rumbling funk passages adroitly powered by bassist Juan Nelson and a drums-percussion duo.

The unexpectedness of Barenaked Ladies’ recent rise to the U.S. Top 10 was the running theme for wry but celebratory humor during the Canadian band’s hourlong late-afternoon set. But it’s not that surprising given BNL’s crowd-pleasing entertainers’ ethic, spontaneous humor and musical virtues in which Steven Page’s clear, sturdy, vibrato-powered voice (think of Morrissey on some very effective antidepressants) was supported by fine all-around playing and singing. For a while, at least, BNL gets to be the new Squeeze, with less depth and musical firepower, perhaps, but with a similar tunefulness and ability to make a show fun.

Fellow Canadians Bran Van 3000 also had a main agenda of fun, but didn’t forget to register emotionally. The effervescence of the Tom Tom Club or B-52’s came through, but so did a streak of full-on feeling whenever Stephane Moraille stepped forward to front the group with heated soul singing.

Fastball cranked with authority on Stones-based rockers with occasional country tinges, playing nothing that original but giving strong evidence of the infallibility of tuneful, straight-ahead rock played with skill, grit and spirit.

Robert Bradley, a blind, snowy-haired former street singer from Detroit, was a ragged glory with his raw, gruff, feeling-filled soul-man’s voice. The peak moments of his half-hour set captured the unbridled fulfillment of desire, but also what it is like to live in the shadows of hard times and neglect.