JIM INFANTINO AT NORTH ADAMS STATE COLLEGETuesday, Feb. 20, 1996
by Seth Rogovoy
That was just one of several defining moments in Infantino's show, moments that overflowed with multiple layers of meaning, post-modern suggestion and cultural resonance.
In solo numbers and backed by his two-piece band, Jim's Big Ego, Infantino combined the literate sensibility of a neo-Beat poet with the densely textured, genre-hopping antics of a new-folk version of the Beastie Boys.
Infantino borrowed elements from Laurie Anderson's spoken-word performances, Lou Reed's neo-Beat hipsterese, the Beastie Boys heavily- dusted mix of punk and rap, the grunge rockers fuzzy guitar mixed with Beatlesque pop melodicism, mixed them all together with his own considerable humor, charm and deft wordplay, and came up with a unique, compelling brew all his own.
Due to dangerous travel conditions, Infantino's band was late for the performance, so he treated the audience to a solo acoustic set for the first half-hour.
As it turned out, this was a blessing, for it afforded the audience the chance to grow slowly accustomed to Infantino's somewhat eccentric approach. While on the surface he may have appeared to be just another acoustic guitar-strumming, goateed, alternative folkie, it was clear from edgy, acerbic numbers like "Punk Junkies From New York" and "Desperate Times" that this was no run-of-the-mill folk singer. In fact, the intimate acoustic followed by fiery electric set worked so well that Infantino ought to make it standard operating procedure.
When the band first joined him, the singer offered a spoken-word piece about undergarments atop a wash of synthesized sound from the Chapman stick player, betraying Infantino's acknowledged roots in Laurie Anderson's performance style.
He followed with "Someday Cafe," off the brand new Jim's Big Ego album, ``More Songs About Me'' (Tangible), a funk-blues with harmonica and ambient noise over which Infantino rapped about the contradictions of a fashion where "alternative is so mainstream."
"Lionel Say" was one of Infantino's great first-person character sketches, in this case one in which the singer assumes the persona of a loathsome, egocentric, self-satisfied capitalist. An easy target, no doubt, but Infantino followed that with "Under the Atrium," in which he sensitively portrayed the depressing inertia of white-collar office life, emphasized by a Velvet Underground-by-way-of-Cocteau Twins guitar drone.
Other compelling numbers included "Butthead," a post-Gen Xers lament, "Bite Me Hard," a ferocious, frightening piece of first-person hardcore, "Stress," which examined a caffeine-fueled, '90s-style addiction, and an hysterical parody of Joan Osborne's Grammy-nominated "One Of Us," which dug much deeper than the original in truly wondering what the world would be like "if God were one of us."
Infantino's performance was a whirlwind of sound, dynamics and emotion, raw and unpolished yet totally captivating and inspiring. The best gig so far that this critic has seen in the Tuesday night "NASC Cafe" series, it was also one of the most exciting performances I've witnessed anywhere, anytime.
In "Someday Cafe," Infantino says "Everybody's trying not to be just like everybody//And I don't want to be like that."
Hey, no prob, Jim. Don't worry about it. Never happen. Not in a million years.
(This article originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on Feb. 22, 1996. Copyright Seth Rogovoy 1996. All rights reserved.)
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