Cleaveland Rocks

You just can’t pigeon-hole Miami-based group Cleaveland Jones – doing so would be like trying to corral a roller-skating hippo who’s tripping on peyote – but you can try to connect the stray bits of sound and see if it all makes sense. Squealing, whammy fueled guitar licks that cascade...

By John Linn

November 22, 2007

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You just can’t pigeon-hole Miami-based group Cleaveland Jones – doing so would be like trying to corral a roller-skating hippo who’s tripping on peyote – but you can try to connect the stray bits of sound and see if it all makes sense. Squealing, whammy fueled guitar licks that cascade over southern funk beats? Yep. Wacky samples and deranged laptop noise that bridge soulful grunts and moans? Hokay. Brazilian congas evoking hot Rio nights, while great explosions of brass sing the praises of Cuban Miami? Say whaaaa? And Cleaveland himself? He’s an enigma of a man, hiding behind a mess of brown-tinted aviators, butterfly collars, and vintage sport coats, all while soulfully explicating that he “just wants to be your booty call tonight.” If all this is confusing, and it should be, then just imagine what a night in the front row of a Cleaveland Jones show would entail. Better yet, find out yourself as CJ visits the Bamboo Room (25 South J St., Lake Worth) at 9 p.m. Friday night. Tickets cost $12. Call 561-585-BLUE, or visit www.bambooroomblues.com.
Fri., Nov. 23, 2007

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