Road warrior

Greg Piccolo spreads his wealth

by Mark Edmonds

Anyone who grouses over their daily commute has nothing to say to a guy like Greg Piccolo who goes to extremes just to get to work. Since he left the Roomful of Blues fold some four years ago to pursue a solo career, the multi-instrument-playing bandleader has been logging, on average, just about as many road miles as your typical long-haul trucker. And few of those miles have been easy. He and his four-piece backup unit called Heavy Juice travel in the austere fashion typical to groups building their reputation. No plushly appointed motor coaches for these guys. They travel jammed into a small van with their gear.

Last week, they were expected to cover more than 2500 miles in 96 hours, playing Hartford, Baltimore, a job in Michigan, and two gigs in Pennsylvania, before heading to New York City. Following a jaunt south to the Carolinas, the band plan to show up in Worcester to play the Plantation Club on May 15 in celebration of their newest release, Blue Lights, on the California-based Fantasy label (in stores this week).

So who's to blame for such hellish roadtripping? Ask Piccolo, the band's agent, who's booked every date on the tour.

"I guess you could say that I don't really have any booking philosophy, other than I wish someone else were doing it," he admits. "The problem is, nowadays, a lot of clubs are now booked up as many as eight months in advance because the bigger agents who call them usually have 20 acts to sell. They can book these places up for 3 months with a single phone call. That makes it hard for a guy like me to get my foot in the door. So we end up zigzagging around a lot on trips like this. I just can't always get dates that are two hours apart."

But Baltimore to Michigan? "Well, the bottom line is," Piccolo says emphatically, "that if I can physically make it to a job, I take it. And if we can get there, we're gonna go."

Thankfully, all the driving hasn't blurred the 46-year-old Rhode Islander's musical vision. His latest disc -- like its predecessors, Acid Blue, and Heavy Juice -- is a musical gumbo of sorts that doesn't adhere to a strict stylistic convention. The heavy downbeats of funk and the verve of the blues flavor things, but touches of swing-era big-band jazz and the Afro-Caribbean rhythms that give reggae and calypso their infectious appeal are combined, making everything Piccolo -- the group's vocalist -- and his band take on sound hybridized.

Although Piccolo's covers of Eddie Vinson's well-known blueser "Old Maid Boogie," and Freddie Mitchell's instrumental "Moon Dog Boogie" come through with the same swingin' swagger as the originals, they also seem a step removed thanks to tiny embellishments by percussionist John LaMoia, drummer P.J. Plenninger, and bassist Ed Spargo. Though the changes are slight -- a time change here or there -- the combined effect makes what may otherwise have been banal-sounding covers sound surprisingly fresh.

The same can be said for the group's take on Duke Ellington's signature instrumental, "Blue Pepper." Although it's every bit as exotic as its Middle Eastern-inspired master, the judicious use of keyboardist Barry Seleen's Hammond organ, teamed with Piccolo's squalling alto and a spinning Leslie cabinet, help recreate the song's swirling melody in a unique way. While the band's other members build on voodoo rhythms, horn and organ lines unfold like cobras uncoiling from wicker baskets -- not your run-of-the-mill cover fare by any means.

As good as these tracks are, however, they're one-upped by Blue Lights' eight originals, where the group throw everything but the kitchen sink into their work. Fans of fellow Roomful alum Duke Robillard will dig the straight-ahead organ/bass/guitar/drums feel of Piccolo's "Rockin' Chair" (he proves he's developed into a fair six-stringer himself), while anyone into early Santana or the contempo-blues of Robert Cray will probably find "Tired of Waiting" and "Everytime I Turn Around" to his or her liking.

The disc also offers some quiet, torch-song balladry (on "My Baby's Gone"), a nod to Jimmy Cliff-style reggae pop-rock (the bouncy "Red Lights"), and even a passable try at rap on the heady "Money." With its pumped up 'Nawlins-meets-Big Apple groove and sunny refrain ("I wish money didn't mean so much"), the track is one of the best examples of the quirky eclecticism Heavy Juice are capable of once they get to a bandstand.

"Generally, we've been accepted everywhere, and I haven't heard any negative reviews," Piccolo reports. "Club owners think it's great because we're doing something that's different. And people . . . well, just let me say, that it gets over when we're in front of a crowd."

He pauses to stifle a yawn. "Once we get there."

Greg Piccolo and Heavy Juice play Worcester's Plantation Club on Thursday, May 15 at 9:30 p.m. Call 752-4666.