QUEEN DESSA & KING PARI CHARM & CHUCKLE THE LODGE ROOM IN HIGHLAND PARK
WORDS BY BRETT MCCABE. PHOTOS BY STEPHEN BROWNLEE.
Dessa’s solo discography has been described as melancholic, heartbreaking, and wry. As we dig deeper and reach into the bottom of this hip-hop Pandora’s box what remains is hope. Her new album shines brighter with this new color, reflecting onto each stage of this tour.
The two-act show opens with King Pari at the Lodge Room, the former Freemason banquet hall in Highland Park. They're a duo formerly of Minneapolis, now situated here in the city of Angels after signing a deal. They already have an L.A. sound similar to native Thundercat. It's the soundtrack to what you'd hear at a woman's Culver City apartment at 1:00 a.m. that smells like stale weed and lush bath bombs, whose bed is littered with papillon fur. The sound mix for the falsetto is so piercingly high that it must be an effort for Big Earplugs to make money (they're a buck at the bar). Their set’s highlight is the trumpet during their yet-to-be-released pensive number "Bad News." Shows my intelligence that I love when the sing-y man blows the shiny tubes.
The bouncy “Warsaw” opens up the set of Doomtree’s warrior princess Dessa. Before starting the “Hurricane Party” she announces that she's been on vocal rest for the past month due to laryngitis. The doctor’s prescription: no talking unless her feet are on a stage. She remains cheeky and energetic confessing that all of her in-between song banter is her "Rumspringa" from having to compactly tell her bandmates in the van "food, now" to fulfill her Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.
To accompany Dessa on this tour are musicians Josh Holmgren on keys and Aviva Jaye on harp, both backing up the vocals. Cameron Kinghorn from King Pari comes out to help croon when needed.
"Call Off Your Ghost" is introduced as a time of “paralytic isolation” and Holmgren’s added keys mix in with the original track as deliciously as whiskey and ginger beer.
A cluster of songs are played as stripped-down renditions to aid the recovering vocalist. Dessa requests that the audience refrain from starting fistfights until afterward. Jaye plays the harp conservatively. "MORE HARP," I want to yell. I’ll wait until after to start a fight.
The shopping cart-riding anthem "I Already Like You" marks the “unplugged” chapter as over. Holmgren ends the jam by playing a (SPOILERS!) SAXOPHONE SOLO.
Get Some’s own photographer Stephen Brownlee gets called out from the stage "I can see your LED screen, and I get it, you're working, I'm working. But can we fake some shots to make sure my hair is on point?" the frontwoman asks, proceeding to pose like she's mid-song.
The intermission of "Terry Gross", a song titled after a radio host of a station where many of her newer fans have discovered her, is celebrated with a round of white wine as the lyrics request.
As a working-class musician, of course the artist needs to plug the merch booth. "This is the dish towel song" referring to the opening lyrics of "Decoy" which are printed on striped vintage-style 100% cotton. "Not a sidepiece/ Or a wifepiece/ I'm a thinkpiece/ If you're done then/ Take your dishes to /The sink please".
“Shrimp” is introduced with "This one's only 45 seconds. You guys have the last line— don't fuck it up." The audience follows the command. "Always a bridesmaid, NEVER AN ASTRONAUT!"
The poem "How to Stage Dive" is performed on the banquet floor after the house lights are killed and the audience holds up their phone torches like Lady Liberty trying to find a signal. Dessa struggles with the lines about being a hungry musician and having to go through years without seeing a single paycheck while her friends buy dogs and houses. Like the piece, and like the very act of a beloved stage-diving musician, the crowd carries her.
The set’s highlight is again Holmgren pulling out the sexy sax to play the lead for "Tell Me Again" as everyone on stage syncopates their steps.
The ingredients to a Dessa Darling concert consist of heart, humor, and stir-fried honesty. If there were any notes outside her usual range, the relief team got her back without the audience noticing. Laryngitis be damned. Dessa stomped its ass.
