There is no denying that this holiday season is for many a time of dread. Millions are counting down the days to January 20 with an overpowering sense of doom, the fate of Ukraine seems set in stone, the price of eggs is still sky high, and the fall of Balshar al-Assad in Syria opens an unexpected can of worms, among what feels like millions of other problems facing our world.
All of this may be why queer-flavored trash lounge lizards Samba Bamba invaded Martyr’s, 3855 N. Lincoln Ave., for a nearly sold out reunion show on Dec. 18 packed with glitz, camp, naughtiness and good cheer. It seems Samba Bamba has returned to save us all before things get too dour and—as is typical of them—they did it with all the class of a drunken prom date.
Monty “Sugarloaf” Mattachine (Richard Knight, Jr.), Lupe Lowenstein (Jen Zias) and Lindo McCartney (Victor Salvo) were upfront about the 30-year stretch since their last appearance in the 1990s (though Lowenstein clearly loved her more svelte figure and was having an awful lot of fun in her slinky gowns) but that didn’t stop them from jumping into a flashy lounge mash-up of Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana” and Donna Summer’s classic “I Feel Love.”
The irony of Samba Bamba has always been that their covers originally sounded like they were designed to be sent up, and their performance style—inspired mainly by Sérgio Mendes and the B-52’s, according to Knight—made their song choices oddly appropriate and comforting.
There were gems sprinkled throughout the night like confetti: Lowenstein’s alluring “One Kiss”; a deep funk deadpan workout with McCartney for an inspired combination of War’s “Low Rider” with Grace Jones’ “Pull Up to the Bumper”; a goofy “Cha Cha Heels” complete with finger wagging; a positively demonic rip through Carlos Santana’s “Evil Woman” and “You’ve got to Change your Evil Ways”; and a surprisingly tender reading by Lowenstein on “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
For older fans there were oodles of surprises from Mattachine’s talent for popping his eyes in mock shock to the way he made his pencil thin mustache wiggle with a life of its own. Not to be undone, at one point McCartney feigned exhaustion and left the stage, only to return with a life sized cardboard cut out of himself from 30 years ago.
The real kicker was the sheer joy of Zias as she had the time of her life being onstage with her new figure, and going so far as to perform a jolly medley of every Christmas song imaginable. Despite all the silliness, there were shout-outs to longtime Samba Bamba music arranger Scott Stevenson, as well as late members and Samba master Mendes. By the time Samba Bamba left the stage, after a rocking but sincere “Let’s Stay Together,” it was clear to many in the room that this reunion was just the right medicine for these troubling times.
Opener Grace Carlin (Knight’s niece) acknowledged she might have been an odd choice to break the ice for this show. After greeting the crowd she said, “I have a different vibe than Samba Bamba…I like to write about difficult shit.”
Accompanying herself on guitar Carlin displayed a lyrical talent worthy of Elvis Costello (at his best) and Billie Eilish, while her plain voice worked strongly in her favor. Her self-written song “Killing It” was a corker depicting a self-sabotaging lover. It pretty much up ended the show with its quiet tone and subtly barbed emotions, and when she sang “Please make me the villain…I’m not the better man and I won’t come clean,” one couldn’t help but feel the dagger slide quietly in.
“Catch My Fall” flipped Carlin’s script, offering her the chance to take all that chill and deliver it with a far less complicated delivery. Through her entire set, she made light of all the heaviness and finished with an off-the-wall jaunt through Icona-Pop’s “I Don’t Care.”
