Removing the dance floor from a concert by either Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings or Black Joe Lewis & the Honeybears is like taking out the banter from a Woody Allen movie, or the Second Amendment from a gun show.
The lack of booty-shaking space Tuesday night when the two retro-soul/R&B bands met up at the State Theatre was a negative, no question. However, it helped focus the spotlight on something besides the insatiable funk that makes them two of the most exciting new live acts of recent years: showmanship. Or showwomanship, if you will.
Pint-sized Jones, 55, used the theater's grand stage to showcase her James Brown-ian dance moves and electric personality. And opener Lewis, 28, helped his Honeybears make an especially strong impression on the near-sellout crowd with his sly call-and-response routines and cool bluesman demeanor.
While they come from very different locales -- Brooklyn, N.Y., for Jones' crew, and Austin, Texas, for Lewis & Co. -- the bands have similar DNA, with proud African American singers, mostly white backing musicians, three-piece horn sections, hip rock audiences and records that at once sound timeless but also suit modern playlists.
Both also ended their sets Tuesday with some well-chosen covers: The Trashmen's "Surfin' Bird" in the Honeybears' case, which brought a little Minnesota pride to the proceedings; and Brown's "It's a Man's Man's Man's World" for the Dap Kings, which brought a lot of womanly flavor to the ironic anthem.
Before that, Lewis and the Honeybears tore through the highlights off their two Lost Highway albums with wham-bam abandon. They started off fast and furious with tunes such as "Living in the Jungle" and "Booty City" and then broke down the tempo with the gritty, grinding "I'm Broke" and a slow-swaying cover of the R&B standard "Since I Met You Baby." The 45-minute set fell way short of their two-hour meltdown at the Cedar Cultural Center last month, but it had a similar impact. Audience members filing in late were right back on their feet once Lewis hollered out his modern boogie classic "Sugarfoot."
Jones' feet never stopped moving from the moment she walked on with the torchy "If You Call" to the pre-encore finale "100 Days, 100 Nights." With the fringe on her black-and-white cocktail dress shaking wildly, she must have left divots in the stage demonstrating the dance moves of her West African and Native American ancestors. She dug into her family again by talking bittersweetly about her mom before "Mama Don't Like My Man."
Her band was inexplicably without its leader, Bosco Mann (the female replacement bassist was a nice touch, though). Equally curious was the show's weak sound system, soft enough for audience chatter to be a problem. Even at low volume, though, Jones was as loud a presence as any frontman or frontwoman of recent memory.
chrisr@startribune.com • 612-673-4658 • Follow him on Twitter: @ChrisRstrib
