Article Library

Hot shows at the House of Blues are no great rarity, but what Michelle Shocked accomplished there on Sunday was unique. She got the capacity crowd to follow her every wild whim.

Late in her 2 ½ -hour show, the first of four nights in Harvard Square, Shocked convinced the entire crowd to turn around and wiggle and twitch their posteriors.

Then, on “Prodigal Daughter (Cotton Eyed Joe),” Shocked performed a slight miracle: She arranged a wide aisle in the middle of the jammed room, and then called square-dance steps.

At the back of the House, there are almost always a bunch of chatting hangers-on. Not this time. Everyone was involved. Folks promenaded under a canopy of joined hands. It was quite a sight.

This was a “shake-down” tour for Shocked’s new band, The Anointed Earls. “We’re working out kinks,” she said. The set was tighter as it progressed, with Shocked taking advantage of the feel of a small club. She’s had many fine backup groups before, but this may be the first time she’s touring with a band that sounds like a complete entity until itself.

The Anointed Earls jelled [sic] like a great juke-joint band steeped in funk and soul. The quartet best displayed its gospel roots on the a cappella “Can’t Take My Joy,” one of several songs from her new self-distributed CD Good News. Though keyboardist Cassandra O’Neil and bassist Jaime Brewer were aces, the fat, mossy guitar raves of Juba Smith were the night’s highlights, and drummer Sedrick Anderson created fierce and solid grooves.

The night began with a 15-minute video from Greenpeace, a protest against the vinyl industry’s presence in a black town in rural Louisiana, where activists say the high dioxin levels in the industry’s waste has caused illness. After a resident of Convent, LA, gave a short, tearful speech, Shocked sang "Good News," a soulful song about that town, known as “Cancer Alley.”

Most of her set was less serious, though she always emitted plenty of attitude. One song contained strings of profanity, but she cutely broke off her syllables in ways that made them [illegible]. “Little Billie” was sung in a loose, hot wail. One new one, “No Wonder” was a forgettable ditty in ‘60s pop mood. But most of her new songs were worthy. “Forgive to Forget” was a heart grabber about getting over hurts and grudges.

After 90 minutes of new material, Shocked dug into her catalog, with persuasive versions of “Come A Long Way,” “If Love Was A Train,” and “Anchorage,” a song that ends with the suggestion for an old friend to “Keep on rockin,’ girl.” She’s taking those words to heart.